#finished moving it all around. its actually way better like this

[rarespawnwrites]

WIP Wednesday

A loud clatter and an ominous change in the room’s orientation brought Danny’s attention back to his surroundings. His body had been harshly throwing itself against its bindings, and the gurney had knocked into a mobile medical cart placed too close to it. Something had fallen on him—a tray, spilling medical tools as it fell—and the way his body had thrown its weight, the bed he was strapped to was now tilting in the opposite direction from where the tray had come from.

Danny had better not be about to die ag—WHOA!

One hand had twisted in its restraint to catch a scalpel as everything fell. After his rough landing, Danny found himself hanging sideways from his restraints. He stared at the scattered tools and fallen tray in front of him while the hand with the scalpel worked to cut through the wrist cuff.

Was… was that intentional? Was this body really just working off instincts? What the hell were these instincts?!

Of course it chose to be hypercompetent now instead of earlier, in the middle of traffic, in the scenario that would have prevented any of this. Well… at least his body was taking care of the restraints; Danny just had to figure out things on his end.

After scanning his system for options, he saw that he’d missed system messages. One was from a sender he’d never seen before. These names were all overlapping, though. Nothing about this afterlife game could be convenient. “System Support,” huh? Right.

So, there was a “Transmigrator Support System”, which he accessed with his screen. That seemed automated by comparison to the email-looking message he’d gotten from Peerless Cucumber. This “System Support” was probably… like customer service? Support for users having issues with the system itself. That was promising.

Danny read the message. His account was no longer under review, so he could actually buy things from the system store now! He really needed to find something that could remove the debuff.

【System Message】 Your preferences have context-sensitive advertisements set to “off”. You can change this setting in the options menu.

And now the system was giving him attitude. Great. Well, it was also hinting that it had a solution, which would be actually great. Since his body was doggedly sawing through his restraints, he should probably find something sooner rather than later.

Actually… why had no one come to check on him? That had made an incredible amount of noise. Why was everything so quiet? Someone had strapped him down and just… left him here? With a bunch of tools?

Danny was pretty sure you didn’t need restraints on people you thought were dead. If most dead people were in his place, the restraints would do nothing because their corpse wouldn’t try to escape. In Danny’s case, the restraints would have done nothing because he was dead. Well. If this irritating system weren’t so fixated on nerfing him, anyway.

Danny’s body thumped to the floor as his mind browsed through pages of items in the system store. His body finished freeing itself and stood. It shivered in his hospital scrubs, and his eyes fixed on the sheet covering the table on the other side of the room. He found himself ambling toward it, and refocused his attention on the world around him.

‘No,’ he thought at his body. ‘Bad! Do NOT take the sheet off a corpse! I don’t care how cold we are!’

The good news was that Danny did not have to wear a sheet plucked off a corpse in the morgue.

The bad news was that it was because whatever was under the sheet started moving before he could get all the way across the room.

But hey, there was more good news! Danny couldn’t control his body, so he didn’t let loose with a high-pitched squeal of terror when presented with this horror movie development! You really had to appreciate the little things when the big things were all terrible.

For instance: his human body was always cold from the way his unreleased ice powers cooled his core temperature, and it wasn’t helped by the cool air of the morgue. That was a terrible, big part of his reality. The small bright spot? Apparently, the chill that ran down his spine at the unexpected movement was even worse than the overall cold, because instead of continuing toward the sheet to warm him up, his body instantly changed course to sprint for the exit.

He couldn’t see whatever was going on behind him, but from the scrabbling noises and soft thumps, he didn’t think that whoever that was had been restrained. Because of course they hadn’t. Why would you put restraints on a corpse?

Danny wished he could punch just like, one thing. For, uh… survival purposes.

[gorgynei]

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent years perfecting my splits. After about two months, I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

[inkskinned]

you were raised in comparison.

it wasn't always obvious (well. except for the times that it was), but you internalized it young. you had to eat what you didn't like, other people are going hungry, and you should be grateful. you had to suck it up and walk on the twisted ankle, it wasn't broken, you were just being a baby. you were never actually suffering, people obviously had it worse than you did.

you had a roof over your head - imagine! with the way you behaved, with how you talked back to your parents? you're lucky they didn't kick you out on your ass. they had friends who had to deal with that. hell, you have friends who had to deal with that. and how dare you imply your father isn't there for you - just because he doesn't ever actually talk to you and just because he's completely emotionally checked out of your life doesn't mean you're not fucking lucky. think about your cousins, who don't even get to speak to their dad. so what if yours has a mean streak; is aggressive and rude. at least you have a father to be rude to you.

you really think you're hurting? you were raised in a home! you had access to clean water! you never so much as came close to experiencing a real problem. sure, okay. you have this "mental illness" thing, but teenagers are always depressed, right. it's a phase, you'll move on with your life.

what do you mean you feel burnt out at work. what do you mean you mean you never "formed healthy coping mechanisms?" we raised you better than that. you were supposed to just shoulder through things. to hold yourself to high expectations. "burning out" is for people with real jobs and real stress. burnout is for people who have sick kids and people who have high-paying jobs and people who are actually experiencing something difficult. recently you almost cried because you couldn't find your fucking car keys. you just have lost your sense of gratitude, and honestly, we're kind of hurt. we tell you we love you, isn't that enough? if you want us to stick around, you need to be better about proving it. you need to shut up about how your mental health is ruined.

it could be worse! what if you were actually experiencing executive dysfunction. if you were really actually sick, would you even be able to look at things on the internet about it? you just spend too much time on webMD. you just like to freak yourself out and feel like you belong to something. you just like playing the victim. this is always how you have been - you've always been so fucking dramatic. you have no idea how good you have it - you're too fucking sensitive.

you were like, maybe too good of a kid. unwilling to make a real fuss. and the whole time - the little points, the little validations - they went unnoticed. it isn't that you were looking for love, specifically - more like you'd just wanted any one person to actually listen. that was all you'd really need. you just needed to be witnessed. it wasn't that you couldn't withstand the burden, but you did want to know that anyone was watching. these days, you are so accustomed to the idea of comparison - you don't even think you belong in your own communities. someone always fits better than you do. you're always the outlier. they made these places safe, and then you go in, and you are just not... quite the same way that would actually-fit.

you watch the little white ocean of your numbness lap at your ankles. the tide has been coming in for a while, you need to do something about it. what you want to do is take a nap. what you want to do is develop some kind of time machine - it's not like you want your life to stop, not completely, but it would really nice if you could just get everything to freeze, just for a little while, just until you're finished resting. but at least you're not the worst you've been. at least you have anything. you're so fucking lucky. do you have any concept of the amount of global suffering?

a little ant dies at the side of your kitchen sink. you look at its strange chitinous body and think - if you could just somehow convince yourself it is enough, it will finally be enough and you can be happy. no changes will have to be made. you just need to remember what you could lose. what is still precious to you.

you can't stop staring at the ant. you could be an ant instead of a person, that is how lucky you are. it's just - you didn't know the name of the ant, did you. it's just - ants spend their whole life working, and never complain. never pull the car over to weep.

it's just - when it died, it curled up into a tight little ball.

something kind of uncomfortable: you do that when you sleep.

[frantic-fiction]

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman." 

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 

"Astarion, fuck!" 

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

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[erwinsvow]

can we have rafe try to grovel ?? :((((( shy reader deserves better !!! <3 https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/751213087399510016/what-if-rafe-ever-hit-shy-reader-from-built-up?source=share

he will grovel!! side note i dont know how i feel about this its just for the sweet anon who wanted part two

the moment rafe shuts the door and traps you in the room, between his body and the wall, you know some part of you has just broken that you'll never fully be able to fix.

everything in your body tells you to look up at rafe and do something. slap him back, push him away, turn around and storm out of the room and try to at least show him you're just as mad as he is—but none of that actually happens.

hot tears keep spilling down your cheeks, and you stay frozen like that for what feels like forever, staring at the floor of rafe's bedroom. the sound of rafe's heavy breaths fills the space, though you can barely detect it over the way your heart is pounding in your ears.

you want to leave. but you don't know where you even would go. before the events of the last hour, there was no where you wanted to be more than wherever rafe was. and now, staring at the floor instead of up at the boy who you had gladly given your heart to only for him to snap it in half with his bare hands and deliver it back, you stay frozen, waiting for rafe. you are always waiting for rafe.

"kid, i-" you finally look up, through wet lashes and almost painful eyes fluttering slowly, and rafe stops talking the moment you do. you don't know why, but it doesn't take you long to figure it out. there's a mark on your cheek the size of his hand, probably an imprint from his ring too.

it's such a shame—you always loved that ring.

you snap out of your thoughts when rafe keeps talking, though there's still blooding rushing in your ears. he sounds muffled, his mouth moving and expression looking, you can only imagine, somewhat close to yours—sad and angry all blended together. you keep blinking slowly, listening but not really listening, waiting for him to finish so you can leave.

how stupid you must seem to him, and to yourself, you think pathetically. he just hit you, and you're waiting for him to finish, so you don't impolitely interrupt. you should drive straight from tannyhill to a therapist's office—though you think not even a licensed professional could help you figure out what exactly is wrong with you.

the thought makes you laugh, corners of your mouth turning up and a rush of air leaving your throat. half a laugh, half a sob. the gutting realization has just hit you—whatever was wrong with you, rafe was the only one in the world who seemed to understand you.

"baby?" rafe asks, and you actually snap out of it this time—looking up at your boyfriend, wondering if he knows you haven't heard a single thing he's said so far.

"i think i should go home," you reply, wondering where your keys are and where your wallet is. you don't keep track of these things anymore, usually since rafe drives you everywhere and pays for everything.

"okay. i'll bring you, just let me go get-"

"no, i-" you stop yourself—about to apologize again. everything running through your mind makes you choose your words carefully. "i'm gonna go home."

"you didn't drive here, kid. i picked you up, remember?" rafe looks back at you and you feel a fresh wave of tears take over. you hadn't remembered.

"oh."

"listen, kid, i'm so-"

"i'm going home," you repeat firmly, mostly to yourself. "i'll just-i'll walk."

"y'not walking. it's dark and-"

"rafe, stop." the way you say it, he actually listens. you don't sound like yourself, you can tell from the way he looks at you, rafe's face doused with concern and apprehension. you look away, turning to face the door. "i'll be fine. i need to go."

"c'mon, kid, don't go," he says, and every bone and muscle inside you wants to listen, to do what he says like you always do. you feel more hot tears coming up, stopping them seems impossible yet you know crying is useless. it already happened and the damage is already done.

you turn around from your position, knowing it's a mistake. rafe gets closer, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. he holds your face like he always does, except there's one big difference—you flinch the moment he starts moving.

"baby," rafe says quietly, and everything in you stops for a moment. brain lagging, breath catching, even the tears stop for a second while you look up at your boyfriend. "i'm so sorry. i am so sorry. i fucked up, okay? i know i did, but please don't go."

"rafe, i can't stay," it comes out just as quietly, a notch above a whisper. "you hurt me." it comes out wrangled in a sob. rafe wipes away some of your fresh tears with his hands.

"i-i know. and i'm gonna regret it forever, but-" rafe stops, and you stop too. you chew on your lip nervously, realizing it's going to bleed from how much you're biting down. "can-can i at least bring you home? please?"

"okay," you give in-but you shouldn't have.

you don't even know how you're gonna explain the mark on your face to your parents, or why you're home so early when you said you were sleeping over. every movement feels exhausting—grabbing some of your things and walking down the stairs to getting into rafe's truck. the drive to your place isn't very long, only ten minutes, and you stare out the window the whole time. it feels like hours with the way rafe looks at you at each red light.

rafe pulls into your driveway and you look up at him expectantly, though you're not sure why.

"can you-can you turn the headlights off? i don't want them waking up," you say, after what feels like ages of silence.

rafe turns the lights off but doesn't say anything. it's not until you reach for the doorhandle that he does—it's almost muscle memory for him. he leans over you to pull the handle and open the door for you, but you flinch so hard when he moves that he can't even get the door. instead he looks back at you while you stare up at him. without any words, you both know what the other is thinking.

"goodnight, rafe," you say, your own hand on the door now.

"wait, kid," he says, and you stop your movement immediately. even in this situation, you can't help but listen. "can i see you tomorrow? please?"

"i don't think that's a good idea."

"c'mon. we-we have to talk about this. i can't just.. not see you. i'm gonna go crazy."

"i need to go rafe." the second you say it, you start feeling bad about it. it's so engrained in you—trying to avoid hurting rafe in any and every way possible, that the very idea of not giving him what he wants makes your chest ache painfully. "i.. i have to think about it."

he leans over, slowly this time so you don't get scared again, opening the door for you like he always does. you climb out, getting your bag and trying to pretend everything's fine until you get inside your room.

"good night, kid. i'll talk to you tomorrow."

without replying, you walk inside. rafe's truck stays in your driveway until you lock the door, and he doesn't drive away until minutes after.

surprisingly, you make it to your room before you start crying. and you don't stop crying until the sun comes up.

[7brownsuga7]

Principal taehyung fucks reader after manipulation

This actually took me so long I’m sorry. I hope you like it though :) 💕

Wc: 2k+

Genre + warnings: smut/drabble - minors DNI! Unprotected sex, infidelity, taboo, principal x fem student. Age difference. Oral/face fucking.

Taehyung has always had a way with words. He knows just what to say in order to get what he wants. Not that he has a problem in getting what he wants, he’s a charmer after all. He’s always been known to be charismatic. Most people were fond of him and found themselves to be drawn to his personality and charming ways. Almost everyone falling at his feet, even the students. And that’s why he was so liked as the school’s principal, because he knew how to win people over. He made it his right to build a relationship with his students, however he went the extra step with you…

He’s had his eye on you for a while now. You were one of the students that stood out. You done well in school, you got along with everyone. You maintained to uphold such a good image. He was intrigued by you. The student that kept to herself, but still got all the attention. The innocent student... Well that’s what you had everyone believe, the confident girl who got along with everyone and stuck to her studies, who didn’t really say much unless spoken to. But he knew who you were. He knew what you wanted, what you needed, what you was missing. He saw it in your eyes. You were hungry for attention. Not the attention you usually get, praises and hidden jealousy from other students. You wanted the attention that he knew he could give you. The type of attention that makes your skin feel hot to touch, breathing increase, mind fog as the pleasure overtakes your body so much that your toes curl. You needed to be touched.

So when he sees you crying in the library after school hours, is when he knows just what to say to make you feel at ease. To make you lean into his touch, to make you let him take away your worries and stress with the smoothness of his words and the gentle touch of his fingers as they caress your bare thigh. Your skirt haven risen to the perfect length to expose the goosebumps on your skin as he continues to stroke the surface.

You wipe your eyes, muttering how stupid you’re being and that you should go home. But his words allure you like a siren in the ocean attracting its prey. It lures you to stay put, to let him keep you company, to let him take care of you. He wouldn’t be a good principal if he let his students go home in a state, even though he hopes he leaves you in another type of state when he’s finished with you. The type of state that has your cheeks flushed with colour, your skin glowing, your lips swollen and your mind racing.

You’re in a vulnerable state, he knows that. Your tears are full proof, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he passed the opportunity of getting closer to you. All his efforts over these years and months to get to know you, to have you feel comfortable around him, would be for nothing. So he allows his fingers to run up the rest of your thigh, under your skirt and to the hem of your underwear.

A smirk makes its way to his face when you make no move to stop him. No sudden reaction, no attempt to curse him out. No, not at all. Instead you shift in your seat so he has better access to your clothed pussy. You look at him, with your wet eyelashes fluttering, and he can see the desire behind your eyes. The want that he knows you’ve been craving.

His cock twitches just at the thought that you want this too. He wonders if the times you would come to his office or you would ask to talk to him about this and that were just little ways for you to get closer to him too, just as he’s been doing with you.

You hold your breath when you feel his fingers brush against you, adding pressure as he rubs them up and down your clothed pussy.

You continue to watch him, his eyes low as they study your face. Half of his face contoured by the shadows caused by the dim lighting of the library.

He captures your lips with his own, an action that has your hands gripping his shoulders. His tweed grey suit rough beneath your fingers, despite his touch on you that is soft and reassuring.

His fingers slip past the fabric and brush against your folds, his mouth twitches in what you assume to be a smile when he feels how wet you are. He’d love to take his time with you, to feel every inch of your body. To savour every moment. But just the feel of your wet folds has his imagination going crazy, he needs to feel more.

You deepen the kiss, eager to feel more. You’ve always known that you’ve craved another’s touch, but knowing you’re receiving it from Taehyung who isn’t old, but he’s older than you does something to your insides. Not to forget that he’s the principal of your school. This whole situation has your pussy soaking. This isn’t like you at all, if someone was to walk in right now you’d be screwed, but you can’t help but to pull him in closer and moan when he stands you up without breaking the kiss.

You feel the coldness of the table on the back of your thighs as he places you on top of the flat wooden surface. Your books and bag discarded around you, proof of your failure to do what you was here to do, study.

His hardened clothed cock rests in between your legs as you both continue to kiss, his large hands fondle with your breasts, slowly working their way to your waist, to your hips. You clench around nothing as he pushes his hip up against you. His buldge growing larger by the second. You look at him expectantly when he breaks the kiss and watches you with dark, lowered eyes. Your own eyes have dried up, your tears a ghost memory to the night that has unfolded.

“Spread your legs open for me” his tone dark, totally different from his kisses and touches. You comply, feeling nervous about what’s to come.

“That’s a good girl”. His hands work on his belt, eventually pulling himself out. Your legs mindlessly close as you see the size of him. The thickness, the length, the vein. It all seems to much, from his cock to the reality of your situation, so you close your eyes.

You feel him rub his cock up and down your wet folds before he enters you, stretching you out completely. He takes his time working in you. Taking the time to feel how tight your walls are around him, how warm and wet you are for him. He doesn’t need to enter you fully to know that he won’t be able to fit all of him inside you, just the realisation has his cock throbbing inside of you.

You cry out, unable to take all of him, even though he hasn’t entered you fully yet. Still, you close your legs as his thrusts quicken in pace, your juices helping the process.

“Keep them open” his tone is demanding, another reminder that he is your principal, and this is real and wrong.

You try to steady your breathing but it’s too much. The tears in your eyes reappear and you’re fighting to keep from crying out in both pleasure and discomfort. He notices this and caresses your cheek with his hand while the other one rubs your clit.

“Shh, I know I know. You’re doing so good” he watches half of his dick enter you, your juices leaving a ring around his cock.

The feel of his fingers on your clit help ease the discomfort you was feeling. Your thighs still fight to close every now and then, his stern gaze reminding you to keep them open. But it’s hard for you, when he fills you up so much, stretching you out. You feel him brush against your walls, his vein prominent with each thrust.

“Just like that. Good job” his voice warm and encouraging.

“Please, please it’s too much” your hands fly to his pelvis to restrict his movements but he only holds them away.

“Shhh. I know, I know”

Your skirt is bunched up around your waist, the sight alone has him fighting the urge to turn you around and fuck you from behind. Your skirt fighting to cover your ass with each harsh jolt in your body. But he doesn’t, he reminds himself to take it easy on you, you’re not experienced, and certainly not used to his size. He doesn’t want to push you further than you can go.

In this given moment, he’s not worried about people coming in and finding you two. He’s not worried about the fact that you’re his student. All that’s on his mind is the feel of your tight walls that are wrapped around him. Your juices sounding throughout the room as his cock works its way in and out of you. The way his cock glistens from your slick and cream. He doesn’t care about anything because seeing you a whimpering mess in front of him is enough to have his mind free from any worries at all.

But still, a part of him wants to make sure you both won’t be seen or heard, especially with you being so vocal. So he puts his thumb in your mouth to drown out your cries.

You being the good girl that you are comply and look him in the eyes as you suck on it. The moisture of your mouth coats his thumb, making him fantasise about how your lips would feel around his cock. Struggling to breathe as he thrusts inside of your mouth , hand holding your head so you can’t escape, so you can take all of him.

But he doesn’t. He tells himself he’s lucky he’s managed to finally fuck you. The student that he’s had his eye on for a while now. So instead, he focuses on the moisture that comes from your pussy. Loud as it squelches every time his tip hits your spot.

He would have taken you in his office if he knew how loud you would be. Not just your pussy, but he should have figured you’d be vocal.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this” he coos as you continue to suck on his thumb. It not really making any difference as he can still hear your pleads and whimpers.

You lay there as he uses you. Babbling about god knows what. It doesn’t matter to him, seeing you under him with that soft frown on your face as he is positioned between your legs is enough.

“You’re going to have to be quiet before someone hears you. You don’t want people finding out about this do you sweetheart?” You shake your head. This would ruin you, just like he’s ruining you now in this very moment.

Still you can’t help but to mewl out. You try hard to be silent but it’s hard. Especially when he’s using you like this, using your pussy to his full advantage.

It won’t do, you’re too vocal. He loves the way you moan for him and plead for him. He does, fuck he does. He will replay this in his mind for days on end. But like he said, both of you are at stake here.

So he stops his movements as he begins to undo his tie around his neck.

The pause in his movements allows you to fully adjust to his length as it’s positioned inside of you. He fills you up completely, totally stretching you out. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, vein prominent. His tip brushes against your cervix, and when you look down you still see an amount of him isn’t even in you at all.

He feels so good but this is all so wrong. You let your needs get the better of you. This wasn’t like you at all. Fucking the principal? That’s a type of taboo you never thought you’d take part in. The fear inside you creeps up and forces the tears out of your eyes again.

“Shh, don’t cry” he strokes your cheek before he places his tie in your mouth to stop the sobbing and whimpering.

You was a good girl, but you didn’t listen. He couldn’t blame you for crying out though. You were so full of him. The feel of him barely managing to fit inside of you is full proof.

His thumb brushes your clit watching as your juices coat your folds and cover his cock. The sounds that fight to leave your mouth come out as a muffle.

Eyebrows furrowed and tears falling out of your eyes. He almost can’t believe he’s got you here under him taking him like the good girl that you are.

“You’re such a good student” he coos as his thrusts continue. Your thighs fight to close but his hands force them open.

“Keep them open, that’s it well done” you can feel your orgasm approach. Knot in your stomach forming and pussy clenching around his cock as he continues his thrusts. Your hands fly out to stop his movements again, hands resting on his pelvis. Your head is shaking no and your cries are muffled by his tie.

“You’re doing so good. You’re always so good. In your classes, and now for me” his hand combs through his hair as you clench around him again and again, causing his loves to be restricted.

“You’re so tight sweetheart” his hand holds his cock to help the movements. Your juices creating the perfect coating for his cock.

“You got this. Good job” he watches as you cum undone around his cock. You’re a mess, your eyes are tightly shut, legs fighting to shut around him, and pussy throbbing. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve got chills running down your body, you shudder uncontrollably as you feel overwhelmed with the feeling that’s consumed you.

“Look at you taking me like a good girl” he feels his orgasm approaching too, soon very soon. He doesn’t want it to end just yet but having you clenching around him and seeing you look so tired and fucked out underneath him is enough to make him want to release his load inside your mouth.

He’s never seen you like this. You’re usually so well presented. But seeing you like this, knowing that he’s gotten you, his student to be like this has his cock twitching and him muttering out curses. He pulls himself out and pulls you up, quickly taking the saliva soaked tie out of your mouth. You breathe heavily as he tells you to open up. You comply, watching him through your wet lashes as he shoves himself inside your tired mouth.

“Just like that” he comments as he watches your plump lips wrap around him. Your cheeks hollow as you suck him. He lets his head fall back as he lets you do your thing. Tongue swirling over his sensitive tip. Tasting the cum spill out of it.

His groans fill the room, hands placed at the back of your head as he face fucks his way through his orgasm.

You choke on his cock, only some of him inside of you. You mainly paying attention to his tip as you suck him dry. Your hands come up to repeatedly tap his toned stomach, as you struggle to breathe.

“Fuck. What a good girl. You’re so good. Well done we-“ he gulps. “Well done.”

Taehyung always gets what he wants, and in the end he got you.

[onyourowndaisymae]

don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer // mammon // levi // satan // asmo // beel (you are here) // belphie -- others coming soon, NSFW warning below, gn!reader

beelzebub, who doesn't have the capacity to get to know you in the way he should. it seems that every season of his life comes with heartbreaking turmoil, and he just has to get used to that feeling of emptiness in his stomach. first, with the celestial war, he lost lilith. now, as the exchange program began, he had to say goodbye to his twin brother for an entire year. he hopes you don't take it personally-- he just can't spare the mental or emotional energy to embrace your arrival like he should.

beelzebub, who can't thank you enough for the way you've repaired his family. he never would have suspected that you had been forming the pacts with his brothers to release belphie from the attic. a small, nervous part of him wonders if you had been nice to him just to get his pact, that you didn't mean all those things you said-- but he knows you. even if you had been lying, you did it for the right reasons. and after all, everything worked out, right? you're here, belphie's back, and the months since his twin's return have been nothing but happy. you have single-handedly stitched his patchwork family back together. beel can't find a way to show how important all you've done for his family really means, but he'll keep trying anyways.

beelzebub, who likes you a lot, actually. he's never been too keen romance. most of his interactions had been spurred on by the other party. he's been attracted to people who are kind yet self-assured, seeking him out first. all of his experiences in crushes, in romance, in bed, have all been a game of follow the leader-- not due to a lack of interest on his part, but because of trauma-ridden aloofness that caused him to focus on the things he still had. romance never topped the priority list... at least, not until it came to you. beel saw you as a member of the family for a long time, longer than he maybe should have. but there's something special about you. something about you that makes him love you differently than he does his brothers. he just wants to have you around, always, sharing meals and movies and glances across the dinner table that make his brothers squirm. he's finally found someone special in his life-- someone he's going to give romance a try for.

beelzebub, who has never been good at controlling his appetite. it hits him at the worst of times, constantly, gnawing at his insides until he can't ignore it. that was why he is stuck in this position. a hunger brews in him, all adrenaline from the latter half of the fangol game and lust, and-- fuck, he needs relief. water beats loudly against the tiles, disguising the deep growl in his throat as he tugs impatiently at his aching cock once, twice, listening hard to make sure no one else was still in the locker room. he listens until he couldn't anymore, until his hand began to move impatiently on its own, another growl rumbling in his chest before he relents and begins pleasuring himself. his mind wanders to you, on the railing of the bleachers, screaming your lungs out in support of his team, feet pounding against the metal steps as you jumped about. you were there for him, cheering for him, watching his every move. he imagines you creeping in to reward him after everyone else left, perched on your knees on the locker room floor, wide eyes watching him with so much love as you swallow his cock, plush lips wrapped around his shaft as you take him as far as you can. just the thought makes his cock throb in his hand. he didn't have long to finish himself off and head out, but his mind couldn't help but linger on the image a bit longer...

beelzebub, whose date night just got a whole lot better. the two of you had spent the evening at hell's kitchen eating your fill (or in beel's case, eating them out of stock) then coming back to the house of lamentation for a movie. but your hand began to wander during the movie-- not towards the snacks, which he offered you several times as your gaze began to wander, but to his upper thigh. your fingers creep in further, until you're brushing against the seam of his pants. he hardens at your touch, your gaze, the steady sound of your breathing next to him. he shoots you a curious look. he quietly warns you that yours fingers are touching him in a particular place-- surely you know that already? you nod. he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap. his view of the screen may be obstructed, but it's obvious that the movie has fallen to the wayside for now. it's him that takes the initiative to guide your hips into a steady grind against his own, little gasps escaping yours lips as he watches you more intently than he ever did the screen. grinding turns to kissing and kissing turns to grabbing, his big hands grabbing at your sides, your ass, your thighs, spreading you open for him. his fingers slip past the waistline of your pants and begin to toy with your sex through your underwear. you begin to tug at his sweatpants, desperately reaching for his cock while rutting into his hand. his cock springs free-- fuck, he's massive-- and you whine for it. you tugged your pants off in a few hurried movements. he tries to warn you about needing more prep, but his words die in his throat as you whimper for it, tell him how much you need him. his eyes and mind both glaze over with lust as gathers your juices and scissors them inside of your entrance, reaching deeper and deeper as you grip his broad shoulders and moan. when you're ready, he lines you up over his cock and lets your sink onto his length. you're so tight and soft and his head is spinning. fuck. the drag of his cock through your insides makes him groan. he doesn't even realize he's pinned your back against the couch until you look up at him with wide eyes and murmur his name. he starts to pull back, but you repeat his name-- your tone is laced with lust, hands reaching for him to come closer, and he does. he hovers close enough to brush his lips against your ear and apologize. you're a strong human, right? you can handle a little roughness? his hips pull back then thrust roughly into you, making your vision blur for just a moment, before he begins a truly sinful pace. a new sort of appetite brews within him-- and you know he's never been good at resisting his gluttonous urges.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable

[coeurify]

I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real

UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!

⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)

⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)

⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.

⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”

⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”

⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”

⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.

⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.

⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.

⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.

⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.

⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.

⋆˚���˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”

⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.

⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.

⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.

⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.

⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”

⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.

⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.

⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.

⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”

⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”

⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.

⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.

⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”

⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.

⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.

⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.

⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?

[dcxdpdabbles]

God, I love the Cave Boy series. Will the batfam manage to find him after he dips. Will they ever find out about his powers. So many questions

Danny stays underground for days.

He doesn't know the exact time frame because he only goes to the surface to grab supplies. He makes sure to only fully emerge when there is no light out.

It was a bigger risk to be caught by the Waynes, who only operated in the dark, but it ensured fewer eyewitnesses were around. Danny Kane was still a very hot celebrity for taking down the Joker- he would be surrounded by a mob of fans if he walked down the street.

He moved his ship into a deeper cave by phasing the large metal and all his equipment through solid rock, which was not easy. It was a miracle he found a little pocket to set up shop.

Danny thinks the little pocket- surrounded by stone with no opening at all, was formed after a cave-in at one point. It was large enough to work on his ship and had just enough space to set up a sleeping bag and a tent for rest.

He rarely uses that space nowadays.

Danny had stolen from a camping store- taking with him an entire box of lanterns that he placed strategically around his space. They threw light to the large four walls of stone- making him feel trapped inside a midevil dungeon, and somehow, it also made him think incredulity alone.

That was the worst part of this whole change of scenery. He doesn't want to admit it, but he got used to Wayne Manor and the colorful characters there.

He hadn't even done anything besides lay around but he missed the sound of people. Even before Bruce had found him, Danny would see people often as he wandered around gathering a sense of the city.

Now, he was genuinely suffocating alone. He didn't feel the loss often, but there were times when it felt like being hit by a truck.

It's when his own ice powers reach into his bones, causing his teeth to clatter and curl up into a smaller ball on the cave ground, that Danny misses the Manor the most. He stole food from the stores- but without any way to cook or heat it up, it's limited to the packed food.

Sometimes, while eating packs of dried fruit, he thinks longingly of Alfred's warm meals. Then he remembers how they looked at him when his lies got so out of hand that they believed Bruce's parents lived in his world and he could suppress the longing to return.

Danny has made leaps and bounds on building his ship since he no longer pretends to be Brucie. He no longer filled the hours with nonsense, only being awake to work or stealing what he needed to continue working.

Unlike before, Danny had developed a tunnel version of finishing his project. He no longer wanted to give himself time to ensure everything was fine.

He just wanted to go home.

He's gotten better at wielding using his own ghost laser, and now his ship had its full body. It was missing seats, a window, and even a steering program that actually turned when he wanted- but he was getting closer and closer every day.

All the small technology pieces he stole from the Waynes were on one side- ripped apart for the needed parts. He would spend hours carefully opening everything to check what he could use and what he could melt down to repurpose.

Danny carefully pulls out some small wires from the electric candle he took from the Wayne Dinner table when his vision blurs. He takes a moment to blink rapidly, trying to let the sudden burst of lightheadedness pass him.

Sadly, it was only a few seconds before he crumbled to the hard ground. He gasps, the cold coming back tenfold, and he can do nothing but lay there and pray the pain passes.

Danny hadn't felt this weak since his ice core first developed. Even the first Ghostly Wail hadn't made his limbs feel this heavy.

He knows he has been pushing himself too far lately- barely eating or sleeping- but Danny can't risk any wasted second. He saw the resources the Bats have.

It was only a matter of time before they found him- even if they would need to drill through the solid stone for hours to reach him- and he didn't want to face them after the guilt of lying to them was slowly eating him alive.

He had kept the Wayne at arm's length the entire time, living under the pretense of being Bruce Wayne's counterpart. He told himself he wanted nothing to do with their nightly battle against evil- and he didn't!- and that he could care less if they treated him as family.

He took everything they gave him without hesitation, telling himself they were fools for letting anyone in and stealing from them. Danny thought it would not matter as he would finish his ship and be flying home long before they realized he wasn't Bruce.

Until they stop treating him so warmly after killing the Joker. Danny wasn't sorry about it, but suddenly, he was a stranger in a crowd to them.

Danny had no right to be upset. He lied. He didn't want to be Brucie to them and had actively made Tim look bad by being as Unproactive as possible, going along with changed narratives of his world.

Danny had used the Waynes.

Yes, he did so, believing they were a cult or an evil madman, but he learned that wasn't the case early on. He could have ended the lie at any moment, but he didn't because he figured it would be harmless.

Then he realized that Bruce's parents were killed in front of him- the story wasn't hard to find when he actually bothered to look into the Waynes at a local high school library after hours.

Not only did he find the horrific story, but he found out that almost all the Waynes had a tragic story. Dick's parents were murdered in an accident that wasn't an accident at all.

Tim's parents were killed by a madman with boomerangs. Jason's father died in prison, and his mother overdosed before Bruce took him in. Duke's parents were patients with no working mind because of the Joker (Danny should have made his death last longer).

The only ones that didn't seem to be Cass and Damian, but he knew it was likely due to Bruce not wanting the public to learn that they came from abusive households- he figured that much out by their reactions.

Even Alfred had a history of PTSD from his time in the army. There was an article about a scandal when Bruce had actually been a child- apparently, someone had thought to release firecrackers under the servant's table, and Alfred had panicked. People had mocked him about it for months.

Everyone had a reason to be a villain, yet they all had opened their home to him and been nothing but kind. They were good, and they treated him like family.

Danny felt sick with himself, for being so self-centered he never bothered to really get to know them. And now he never could.

A few tears rolled down his face as his vision started to blur out more and more.

No use crying over it now, Fenton. Though the haze of exhaustion doesn't let him get up from the floor, he thinks bitterly.

He'll rest for a little bit, then get back to work. Only for a few minutes/

Danny doesn't notice his body has shifted in his Ghist side, slowly redirecting his energy to his core, so that his healing could help overcome the unknown days.

He is not aware his heartbeat stops at the same time.

_____________________________________________________________

"I can't hear him anymore!" A young boy screams, pressing his ear against a stone. Horror clouds his voice as he turns to stare at another boy. "His heartbeat....it's not...."

"We must make haste! Breakthrough now!" The other boy snaps.

"But that might cause the cave to fall on top of him." The other rubs his hands together nervously. "I think we may be too late to save-"

"Every second we waste is a second that Brucie gets closer to death!" His company growls savagely, though the tears in his eyes make him less scary. "We have to at least bring his body home- we-I can't- he needs to be buried properly."

Not even a second passed before the other boy threw his shoulders back, yanking out his phone and pressing a speed dial two.

His father picks up two rings. "Jon?"

"Dad! We found Brucie! He was stuck in a cave underneath the tunnels leading to Gotham Cemetry. Can you come help me get him out?"

"I'll be right there."

[g-hughes]

Bite Me - Q. Hughes

hockey masterlist | g's graduation celly

synopsis: When one of Quinn's teammates asks if their sister could stay with him to bounce back after a break-up, Quinn said yes. But six months later, Quinn feels like he has met his matched. Or when Quinn Hughes falls for his roommate, who happens to be his teammate's sister.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: smut mentioned! friends with benefits situation, Boeser!Reader, nudity, cursing.

Quinn Hughes thought of himself as being a “good guy”. He held doors open for people, swapped seats on airlines when asked, donated money to various charities, and spent time, when he could, coaching the Canucks Youth Team. He was a good guy and an even better teammate and captain.

He prided himself on being the one on the team the guys could go to when they needed advice or just someone to sit and listen to them rant. He would give his teammate the shirt off his back if one of them asked. So when Brock Boeser, Quinn’s best friend, asked if his younger sister could crash with him for a few days, Quinn said yes without even really thinking it through. 

“It’ll be a few days,” Brock assured Quinn as he brought in one of her suitcases, “Her dick head ex cheated on her and threw all her shit in the driveway. She was gonna spring for a hotel, but I couldn’t let her do that. I’d let her stay at mine, but we’re remod-” 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Quinn assured his winger, “I know you’d do the same if it was one of my brother’s. She can crash here as long as she needs.” 

“She swears it’ll only be a few days.” 

But a few days turned into a few weeks, and a few weeks into a few months. Now it's been six months and Y/N Boeser has become Quinn’s official unofficial roommate. And he hated it. 

Quinn didn’t want a roommate, nor did he need one. He actually loved coming home to a quiet apartment after weeks on the road. He liked the solitude of being able to hide away from the cameras and the press in his face and following his every move. He liked to be able to walk around damn near naked and not have to worry about being walked in on. But having a roommate, all those privileges had been taken away. 

“Quintin! You parked in my fucking spot!” Y/N yelled as she slammed the front door shut. Quinn smirked to himself, as he finished mixing around the vegetables in the pan. He knew exactly what he did and he knew it was going to piss you off. Quinn had two parking spots, one for himself and one for a guest (which had become Y/N as of late), and he decided that tonight, he was going to forget his driver’s ed training and park in the middle of the two spots. 

“Quintin,” Y/N groaned, coming into the kitchen, setting down her bags from work. Quinn looked over his shoulder, trying his hardest to fight the urge to stare at your breasts. 

Yes, Quinn hated having a roommate, but it did come with its own perks. Such as, his roommate was very, very attractive. 

“Oh hey sweetheart,” Quinn smirked, “Did I miss something?” 

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest, pushing her tits up even more in the tight tanktop she was wearing, “You know what you fucking did, you parking in the middle of the spots again!” 

"Oh, I did?" He feigned innocence, "Well, maybe if you didn't leave all your damn shoes by the fucking door!"

"It was one pair! One pair, Quintin!"

"Quit calling me Quintin!"

Y/N groaned and grabbed her bag, stomping her way out of the kitchen. Quinn turned back towards the dinner he was cooking, his mood sour. He had such a good day too. Practice went smoothly, Toch only yelled at them for an hour instead of two. Things were finally starting to take a turn after a losing streak that put everyone on edge. Quinn felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, his first season as captain after a disappointing season. He had to prove himself, he had to prove that he was worthy of the captain spot. 

Oh, and waking up with Y/N’s mouth wrapped around his cock was an added bonus. 

Quinn hated to admit it out loud, it made him feel dirty and wrong about it, but there was nothing dirty and wrong about it. It seemed to have happened naturally, the tension between them building since the moment Quinn first saw Y/N. He had done his best to ignore her for the first week she was occupying his guest room. She had just been broken up with in a horrible way, and was trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered years-long relationship. But then she started to come out of her room, and she was like a storm, Quinn had no idea how to brace for. 

She was sassy, and smart, and beautiful, and stubborn, and messy, and so fucking sexy when she was pissed off about something work or at Quinn for parking over the line of his parking spot. 

It was bound to happen, the tension and animosity growing between them as the days went by. It turned into more than Quinn bitching about the shoes by the front door, which he had repeatedly told her to stop leaving them there. It turned into her bitching at Quinn for leaving dirty plates in the sink. Then it was Quinn bitching about how she would take the full garbage bag out of the can and leave it by the front door (in her defense, the dumpster was in the alley behind the building and Quinn didn’t feel very comfortable with her taking it out late at night). Then it was Y/N bitching about Quinn leaving his travel bag, unpacked, in the laundry room between roadies. 

The final straw for both of them was when they both came home, unsatisfied in different ways. Quinn had come home from a long roadie, the majority of them being losses. All he wanted to do was take a bath and relax and regroup for the next series ahead. Y/N, had come home from yet another shitty date. She insisted that her date didn’t need to walk her to the door, but he wanted to make sure she got in safely, or so he said. Quinn could hear her fake laughter from the other side of the door, as he stood at the kitchen counter, waiting for the tea kettle to whistle. 

“I had a good time,” She said, “Thanks for walking me back.” 

“No problem,” A male’s voice sounded out, “Ya know. . . this doesn’t have to end here.” 

Quinn grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to know that Y/N wasn’t interested. 

“I uh. . . I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Quinn could almost picture her nervously pushing her hair behind her ear, “I’ll give you a call.” 

“C’mon,” The guy was sounding desperate, “We both want to end the night right.” 

It was silent for a moment, and for some odd reason, anger flowed through Quinn’s body. Was the guy kissing her? Was she seriously considering letting him in? Quinn had never brought it up, but he assumed that Y/N wasn’t having people over. Not that she couldn’t, he guessed, it was her place too. But for some reason, the idea of her having a man in her bed pissed him off. 

“You’re right,” Y/N sighed. Quinn’s body seemed to move on it’s own accord as he walked over to the front door, his hand wrapping around the knob, “I better go see if my vibrator is charged. Night, Marcus!” 

Quinn jumped back startled as the front door was pushed open and Y/N charged in. He could see the confused face of the man, Marcus, behind the door as it slammed in his face. Y/N groaned as she kicked off her shoes and tossed her purse on the couch. Quinn wanted so badly to make a comment about her shoes, but instead he said;

“You have a vibrator?” 

Y/N looked at him, one eyebrow raised, “I am not a 16 year old. Of course I have a vibrator. Almost every woman has one.” 

“You use it?” 

“Yes, perv,” Y/N scoffed, and reached for her purse, “Boe said you were quiet, but I didn’t know quiet meant stalker. Night.” 

Quinn blinked several times as she walked down towards her room. His mind, again, thinking of other things to say, like apologizing for asking her such a vulnerable question, but instead, once again he blurted the wrong thing. 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house.” 

Y/N paused in her walk, holding still for a moment and turning around to face him, “Excuse me?” 

“I don’t want you having sex in my house,” Quinn stood firm on what he said, even though he regretted it the second he said it. Even though her name wasn’t on the lease, she was still living and paying rent (Quinn told her several times her money was useless, but she cried and told him she had to contribute somehow). 

“I am not.” 

“Good.” 

“Good?” 

“Mhm,” Quinn nodded. It was silent again as the two of them stared each other down, tension thick in the air like smoke. 

“Need anything else?” Y/N asked, breaking the silence. She folded her arms under her chest, pushing her breasts up in the tight black dress she was wearing. Quinn gulped, taking in her appearance; short, tight black dress, black leather jacket, black heels that made her legs look like they went on for miles. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, a dainty good chain around her neck. Quinn gulped, thinking and praying of anything that would keep the blood from rushing south. 

“Nope,” He shook his head. 

“Good,” Y/N responded, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to end my night right.” Quinn felt his boxers grow tighter as she turned on her heel, and walked down to her door. She stopped just before going inside her room, “Ya know, a gentleman would ask if I need help.” 

Quinn watched as her eyes seemed to turn a shade darker and looked him over from head to toe. In two quick strides, Quinn was pushing her against her door, his lips on hers. Her hands were in his hair, pulling on the locks she told him not to cut. His hands roamed her body, pulling her as close to him as she could possibly get. He shamelessly rutted her hips against her, his cock begging for release from his pants. 

“If I fuck you, will you stop leaving your shoes by the door?” Quinn mumbled, his lips leaving a trail of searing hot kisses on her skin. 

“If you do a good job, I might consider it.” 

From that night, their friends with benefits relationship blossomed. One would think with the among of orgasms they gave each other, that the animosity would be nearly nonexistent. But it only seemed to up the ante between them. The fights were louder, the pranks were almost near nuclear, and the sex. . . the sex was downright rough and dirty. It almost became part of Quinn’s pregame ritual, to fuck Y/N or jerk off to a video of her. 

Y/N clenched her jaw as she threw her dirty work clothes into the hamper, getting ready to shower the day off. She grabbed her speaker, making sure to turn it up loud enough to annoy Quinn down in the kitchen. He hated her taste in music, and she was well aware of it, always taking the aux cord from her when they would drive to Roger’s. Quinn also liked to eat his dinner in silence, claiming it was one of the only times of his day he had to himself. 

Smiling, she turned on Taylor Swift, letting the bass hit her ears as she stepped into the hot stream of her shower. 

Quinn was mid bite when the all too familiar intro to “SLUT!” started playing. He groaned, slamming his fork down, “One dinner. One fucking dinner in peace.” He pushed his chair away, storming down the hallway towards Y/N’s room. He wasn’t surprised to find her bedroom door unlocked, almost as if she was expecting him. He was about to push the door open, when he heard another all too familiar sound coming from the other side, the blood in his body rushing south. He smirked, imagining how deep her fingers were inside of her to get that kind of reaction. 

Quinn could tell she was getting close by the way her moans got higher pitched. He knew now was the time to strike. Pushing the door open, he walked right over to her shower and yanked back the curtain. 

“Quintin!” Y/N squealed, pulling her hands away from her core and covering her chest, “What the fuck!?” 

"Don't be shy, sweetheart," He smirked, looking up and down her soaking wet body. He licked his lips, and she scoffed, turning away from him, "Oh come on, it's not like I haven't seen it before. Turn back around, lemme see the girls again."

"Oh bite me, Hughes!" Y/N turned the shower head towards him, affectively soaking him. Quinn turned his body away from the water stream that was not only soaking his t-shirt and shorts, but the floor. 

"No," Quinn grunted and grabbed the shower head, turning it back towards her, "You'd enjoy it too much."

Y/N looked over at him, "You're all wet."

"That makes two of us now, huh," Quinn shot her that megawatt smile. Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched the shower curtain from his hand.

"You just lost your invite!"

my requests are open!! :)

[i-2hoon]

can u write hc's for sub!enha and their first time w their bf :00

no need to ask me twice ugh i love this

enhypen & their first times

pairings ᱖ sub/switch!enha x dom/switch!male!reader

warnings ᱖ explicit content, established and implied relationships, subtle sub/dom dynamics, conversations of virginity, underlying corruption kinks, sub!enha, dom!reader, subtop!heeseung + jay + jake, subbot!sunghoon + sunoo + jungwon

important notes ᱖ hi!! thank you so much for suggesting and i love this so much! you never specified top/bottom, so i did follow my personal preference. the oldest three are sub!tops, and the youngest three are sub!bottoms, however they are all still subs, i hope its not an issue!

heeseung 박희승 : patient

heeseung, compared to other members, may need a bit more time to be ready for anything sexual beyond making out and greedy touches. needless to say, you two will be taking it slowly and patiently. he has trouble relaxing and relinquishing any control to you, but with the way your fingers scrape against his scalp and the tone of your voice when you whisper in his ear.. ah, even if he wasnt ready, something switched in his mind. he wouldnt be one to lean back and let it happen; you would speak him through it all for him to be comfortable. this includes whispering sweet praises and reassurances as your fingers wrap around his cock, and interlocking your fingers with his when you move your lips to bite at the pale skin of his neck. just know that the moment youre actually on him he might fall into some sort of.. daze, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let you do all the work. you would have to be slow as to not overwhelm him or make him overthink, but itll be beyond heavenly for the both of you.

jay 박정성 : intimate

see, for him, jay never exactly wishes to be out of control. but theres something about you—his beautiful boyfriend—that allows him to give in. running your hands down his chiseled chest and nipping at his ear, it seems like majority of the night would be calculated foreplay. youd trace a line up his jaw and fuck would he have a hard time keeping his hands off you. simply send him that one glare, however, and hed put his hands behind his back if he had to. its your eyes that make him melt like that. hes never seen you like this before and that in itself was a turn on. when you ride him for the first time with a hand around his throat and lips against his (well, barely. your minds are too fogged you think you may be missing his lips when youre kissing), he thinks that theres nothing better in this world but to be like this with you.

jake 시재윤 : need

have you ever seen a man genuinely so eager to get you off that he forgets about his own raging hard on? ah right, thats jake. the second your makeout session morphed into something more, this man was putty in your hands. grinding on his thigh with your hands tangled in his hair.. well its certainly far from a romantic first encounter with sex, but the desperate whines and curses slipping from jakes lips are enough to make it worth it. you seriously could mold this man into whatever you wanted with your hands. when you told him to suck you off? he was on his knees before you could even finish the second. due to all the pent up frustration in him after a few months of not having any sort of sex, just know that hed come untouched in his pants just from blowing you.. and hed have zero shame about it.

sunghoon 박성훈 : lust

while a lot of people assume that sunoo would be the most of a brat or tease, i disagree. sunghoon is the definition of bratty when it comes to these situations, and youd only just get a taste of how he can be when it is your first time. it was like there was zero warning for how he would be, but part of you isnt complaining. how pretty he looks against the sheets, giving you that smirk and lidded gaze as you have two fingers knuckle deep in him. maybe you partially wanted to give up and give into him, but the way he taunted you with his words and his body was far too great of a reward to give up. overall, itd feel more like a game than anything; a back and forth until you snapped and pressed his face into the sheets. who said anything about first times being gentle? you probably only did it because he pushed your sanity just a bit too far this time.

sunoo 김선우 : playful

really, it started as a cute make out session. no more than pressing teasing kisses to each others lips and jokingly tugging at waistbands. so how did you end up here, with sunoo on his knees in between your legs? well, regardless of how, just know that itd all be lighthearted and playful. teasing insults, gentle bites, and maybe a bit of humiliation. it was more casual than you were expecting for your first time, but you werent complaining. the way he giggled when you bit his thighs was enough to ease any of your nerves and insecurities, truly. no need to even begin to speak about the way he looked at you and spoke meaningless insults to motivate you; some comments along the lines of "well? if you havent messed up my makeup already, you really arent that good."

jungwon 양정원 : affection

on the contrary, your first time with jungwon would be quiet and intimate. the only words that would leave your lips would be 'i love you''s and sweet nothings filled with praise. despite taking it slow, it was truly nothing but love and trust. he trusted you with his body, shivering at the way your cold hands felt against his bare waist. and you? you trusted him with your ego here, but that would be a topic for another time. gentle kisses against his chest that trail down to his hips and his feet resting on your shoulders—you were never a religious man, but you swore that this was heaven itself.

[kalims]

˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "who i like? do you seriously think I'm gonna tell you that? anyways its—"

大好き

premise. someone asks who you like.. and you respond with their name—said person right beside you!

characters. all dorms and their prominent students

includes. gn reader

note. after a long wait! and the almost month this has been on my 'to be added' category it's hereeee.. fun fact.. I actually finished another work because I liked the idea of it more even though this was my prioritized.

was 20 mins late because I was fixing my posts aksbja

heartslabyul

looks at you like you're insane. I'm confident everyone can envision riddle's face like that. it's in between the verge of being flustered and being appalled by your lack of filter. heat practically steams out of riddle's ears as his movements stutters, clearly struggling to comprehend what you said. maybe you should get ready for an earful but you're pleasantly suprised when riddle sets aside his.. passionate emotions to shyly ask a confirmation. (with admitted aggression as if he's in denial)

trey's eyebrows shoot up but the action looks way more casual than it should be. I mean, surprisingly he's pretty calm on taking it into account but he ends up just being a smiling fool beside you as you continue your conversation with your friend. he's like... ‎◜◡◝ beside you as your friend looks between the two of you in a hurry before breaking into a laugh. should be be worried that you're this bold..? well, it did work in his favor so he can't say a thing.

happy go luck cater looks even more happy than you've ever seen him in your life. hanging lowly by his sides, his hands twitch and he itches to pull out his phone to basically renounce to the world that his feelings are very much reciprocated and probably lowkey shitting on the people with one sided loves because, ha! he wins!! you bet he's gonna settle for screaming in his private account and then proceeding to scream in his pillow.

before he could foster up a grin and break out of the 'calm and responsible' honor student, deuce had to keep his lower lips under his teeth lest he looks like a weirdo smiling uncontrollably tinged in flush. the whole time he was just staring at you goofily.. like he's on cloud nine, which I concur. because he is. the one who gets gaslighted (not by you) into thinking that you both now are in a relationship like.. deuce be for real you didn't even ask me on a fate. (actually both of you might think you're in a relationship because of the way you're acting like yall are)

contrary to beliefs I think ace would be on the more casual side. you know? throwing an arm around your shoulder and shattering whatever personal space criteria there was. clearly there's no need when you 'like' him so much. he's using your words as an excuse to do whatever he wants, like leaning strangely close, letting a hand linger longer than it should. whatever restraint he had before is gone now because now he's moving onto a new level of personal. you'd either hate or secretly like the change. hate because ace wtf we're in class and like because,, who wouldn't want your crush to be overly affectionate with you?

savanaclaw

you'd think leona wasn't listening at all just from the indifferent look on his face but you know better just from the way his eyes perk up, tail sticking up in dormant but still a signal of alert and attention. for once he doesn't quip a tease, or a smart-ass remark that would want you to shovel your way to the ground on embarrassment. he just.. sits there, staring seemingly into the void of thin air itself. maybe it's because he's feeling particularly sentimental or sensitive today that his heart feels like it's encased in warmth. it feels good.

a laugh too shaky for his preferences, ruggie hopes he didn't look too nervous for his sake. I mean, this is literally his suprise of the century and when I tell you that it's a big shock to him, it's an understatement. come on, if he did think you had feelings for him ruggie imagined the confession going normally. either buttering him up or going straight to the point—the latter, which he prefers but when he said to be direct he certainly didn't expect this! the hyena runs away with jitters and a skip to his steps but he comes back a few minutes later looking more relaxed than you've ever seen him.

once again. contrary to expectations which the savanclaw boys had practically shattered those, many would think jack would go all shy. from the previous savanaclaw boys you'd think I'd go against expectations again but you're.. wrong hehe. i don't know how to explain other than he wills himself to show a reaction other than fluster, maybe it's just in his pride to now show you an ounce of weakness but literally how could be when you're the weakness? he doesn't know if you making him soft is good or not.

octavinelle

if it was real and possible to actually happen without a third party force, azul's glasses would've definitely shattered the moment you said the direct confession. he's torn between wanting to excuse himself to scream like a school girl or intent to not let the fluster show. well, either way he does both. keeping his emotions hardly in check, sometimes slipping up multiple times but when the time comes where you both part ways you know he's silently smiling to himself when he turns round a corner. the twins are suspicious and curious as to why azul had been in a good mood nowadays..

either jade maintains his cool, natural closed eyed smile or he crinkles his eyes when he breaks into a large sharp toothed grin. of course both has the lingering ominous feeling around it because it's jade.. and even you have to agree that him openly cracking a grin isn't exactly a good sign of peace, rather so a harbinger of trouble. if you were bold enough to say that in his presence I wonder how that previous confidence will fare when he's practically picking at your earlier words to gouge a reaction. no jade, I only said like. not love (yet).

no one other than floyd would be more than ecstatic. he didn't hear it at first, blinking then tilting his head to the side when he pauses to register it. so when he finally processes it you bet he's giggling in his head but in real time? he's practically sweeping you off your feet to hug you in the air. figures with the strange merman strength.. you find out that floyd is quite clingy when he's immensely happy, he even refused to let you go through classes and when you insisted he just sat down next to your seat and promptly kicked out whoever sat there before! floyd atleast hide! I mean the professor would surely notice the eel that's not in supposed to be in their class.

scarabia

if there was an option where he could purchase everything in the world then giving it to you without expecting anything back kalim would surely choose it. you got him so happy to the fact that he's willing to do practically anything that you ask. he doesn't mean to be over the top but.. he just wants to make you happy, which is more than you deserve. no matter how many times you tell him that you don't need any gifts but rather him only, it seemed like it only did worse since he practically fell a hundred times harder which brings us to the conclusion that he wants to give you the world a whole lot more now..

a complete opposite of kalim. jamil merely blinks and casts you a side eye. for the record, he is a little impressed you're that bold because if it was him he would've just brushed this person away or claimed that he liked no one but here you are. completely obliterating the concept of secrets. perhaps that's why he likes you in the first place, your personality is certainly a force to reckon with.. but sometimes you just have to tone down the chaos.. *please* 😐

pomefiore

vil is no stranger to bold proclamations but he can't deny he's a little startled. well, he didn't pick you out to be that type of person. either way usually he'd plaster a quick smile, the words not hitting anything other than the skin of his heart. strangely enough he can't keep the smile wider than he'd like off his face, he's immensely pleased by your words and pomefiore has never been so happy by the obvious good mood their dorm leader had. cause he left them alone for the whole day to practice stick to your side.

his eyes immediately crinkle in joy, rook has to look away and cover the lower part of his face to shy away the flush in his cheeks that would give away his thoughts. rook wouldn't mind if you knew how he felt, but this time he feels as though he's doing this to contain the excitement off his face. you can practically hear the tremble in his voice as he giggles out. "oh tricheur ! mon coeur bat pour toi dans ma poitrine!" it looks like rook completely forgot to existence of the person right next to you. if he got madol from the amount of times he practically sang of his love for you rook would be rich.

just like any other time where you say something off handed epel quickly goes out of character and nearly screams. asking, shaking your shoulders, out of breath by the amount of times he aggressively shook you for the answer of "really?!" his voice becomes that of a boy you aren't used to, but if he's really that willing to show you the person he truly is it makes you like him more. if you do agree, admittedly with your surroundings growing distorted he yells out a happy "YESSS." then coughs and resumes to his soft persona like he wasn't the complete opposite a minute ago. (the person that asked was shook)

ignihyde

it's hard to say if idia is actually gonna be next to you since,, he's idia and do you really think he'd entertain the thought of being in a conversation with someone who he doesn't know? so let's just pretend his tablet is floating next to you, it's better than nothing you guess. you spared a glance to the electronic when you literally confessed your type, idia himself fitting the category perfectly. you swore you heard a squeak but ehh.. maybe it was a rat or something.

meanwhile. ortho comes inside idia's room expecting his elder brother to just be sitting on his bed, gaming chair or something but no. idia shroud is on the floor, with his headphones hazzardly over the floor like it fell over when he did. his hair is sprawled around the floor, heating into a concerning passionate pink as he rolls around and... squeals..? just from the headphones ortho can vaguely hear a "my type..? oh you know idia? I'd kill to have a boyfriend like him." playing on repeat.

diasomnia

he would be like: ˘ ˘ and then: ‎◜◡◝ after he hears you. if there a sound for a big, happy dragon malleus would be excluding them. when I tell you he wishes nothing but to just whisk you away on spot he's not kidding, unlike everyone else who unintentionally forgot the person who asked. this man forgets them intentionally because he can't keep his eyes off you like.. 'hey other human. me and my child of man are having a moment here. will you please leave now. did you not get the sign'

giggles but with his deep voice it sounds kinda weird, but nice to the ears nonetheless. lilia labels you as his main target now, perhaps scaring you shitless at the random times is his love languange because he does it a lot. don't worry though, he always says a half hearted apology with a smile and showers you with affection right after. how could you be mad with how he treats you? even though he cares for you after you can't help but pray that the glint you saw in the ceiling was just some shiny thing.. maybe malleus got it from him because he doesn't care for the other person too.

sebek scolds you period. not only have you mentioned his name (which he's embarrassingly torn between being disgusted and fluster) but you've also mentioned that he's your type?? but I honestly think he approves your taste. "OF COURSE I am the ideal man! I applaud you for once human. not everyone can see the value of loyalty and devotion to waka-sama!" he says but with the increasing pink in his face you know better than to think that it's for the sole reason of malleus.

with the increasing time you've both spent together, silver has practically devoted himself to following you around whenever he's awake. (sebek says something about him always needing to be by malleus' side but quickly shuts up after silver comments that sebek is more than capable to look after him) the surroundings are growing hazy when you say it but he hears it nonetheless. he's happy to say that he dreamt a pleasing dream he's ever gotten in a long time. and since you were in it, it's safe to say that he's positively infatuated now.

clarifications

translation for rook is,, "oh trickster! my heart beats for you in my chest!"

I connected ignihyde parts since I REFUSE to leave out ortho!!

I really liked how those ^ parts came out. my favorite actor cause I think it's cute for idia to be freaking out like that lolol. especially with the idea of recording of your voices to listen to cause he's that down bad

[moonstruckme]

Hey girl. I saw you were asking for whimsical!reader. The one that you did with James was so cute!!! Could we get another part to that? Also you’re one of my fave authors on here.❤️❤️

Hey babe, so honored! There are so many amazing writers on here, so I really appreciate you taking the time to read my stories :) Thanks for requesting love!

cw: hurt (not direly) animal

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 846 words

“Jamie, do we have any seeds?” James hears you enter through the front door. He turns down the TV to hear you better. 

“Seeds?” he asks. “Like, for gardening? I don’t think so, love.” 

“No, like sunflower seeds.” Your voice fades as you move into the kitchen, cupboard doors opening and closing. “Or actually, kale would do. Can I use some of your kale, please?” 

“What?” He gets up to go to you. “What are you making?” 

James finds you standing in front of the refrigerator, trying to tear open his container of kale with one hand and cradling an alarmingly complaisant-looking bird in the other. 

“Sweetheart,” James says slowly. You tilt your head at him. “Is that a baby bird?” 

“Of course not.” You smile guilelessly, eyelashes kissing at the corners. “Don’t be silly, I know better than to take a baby bird away from its nest. This is a bullfinch. It’s an adult, they’re just small.” 

He nods. “And why’ve you brought it inside, lovie?” 

“Because something’s wrong with it,” you say softly, as if wary of the bird overhearing. “It flew into Mrs. Hutchinson’s window—you know, the older woman down the way? Anyway, it’s alive, but I think it’s in shock or something. See how it’s letting me hold it in my hand?” 

James says that he does. 

“It shouldn’t be doing that,” you finish somberly.

You’re telling him. 

“But I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to touch wild birds,” he worries, fighting vigorously against the urge to take the thing from your hand. “They carry diseases, don’t they?” 

“I’ll wash my hands.” You finally get the kale open, taking out a few leaves and holding them in front of the bird. “I couldn’t just leave it, Jamie. Mrs. Hutchinson has a cat. What if it had found it all frightened like this?” 

James takes a breath and forces himself to remember that these are the things he loves about you. Though he does prefer when your kinder traits don’t come at the risk of avian disease. 

“It’s not eating,” you fret, watching as the poor thing’s reddish belly pumps with quick, tiny breaths. “Do you think we should give it some water too?” 

“Can’t hurt,” James agrees, grabbing a small dish and filling it from the tap. “Why don’t you bring our little friend outside? We can put this stuff on the ground and see if it’ll eat then.” 

He doesn’t add that despite its equanimous facade, the bird is probably scared shitless sitting in your hand like that. You take to his suggestion happily, leading the way out to James’ small porch. You set the bird down gingerly. James does his best to match your carefulness, placing the little dish of water and a few pieces of kale in front of it. 

“Come on, lovely,” you coo, voice extra soft and sweet for the small creature. 

James’ chest aches at the sound of it. If this bird dies, he’s going to have to arrange a whole funeral for your sake. 

“Let’s give it some space,” he says gently, wrapping his fingers around your waist to encourage you back towards the door. “It might be too scared to eat with us around.” 

You press your lips together as you nod. James nuzzles your hair compassionately. The pair of you sit on his doorstep in silence, you gnawing your lip raw and him reminding himself repeatedly not to hold your hand. After what feels like hours, the bird moves. 

Its head twitches towards where you sit, and then, without even touching the meal you’d set out for it, it flies off. 

Ungrateful prick, James thinks. 

The sigh that leaves you is so loud that he starts to panic before he sees the relief on your face. 

“It’s okay,” you say, not quite teary but looking dangerously close. 

“It is,” James affirms. He’s unable to keep from smiling, you look so adorably thrilled. “It may not have had much appetite, but you saved it, angel.” 

“Did you see the way it looked at us?” You’re awed, looking up at him with huge eyes. “It knew. It could tell we were the ones that helped it.” 

James isn’t sure he can get fully on board with that theory, but he’s not going to burst your bubble. 

“I’m sure it did,” he says, standing and taking your wrists in his hands. You get up too, and James holds your hands out away from you, shouldering open the door to go back inside. 

You follow him gamely. “What are we doing?” 

He leads you over to the sink, forcing you to keep your hands in front of you like a surgeon’s the entire way. “Washing your hands,” he replies. “Don’t need you falling ill from some rare bird disease.”

“I don’t think our friend would have given me any diseases,” you say, though you don’t resist when he holds your hands under the hot water, pumping soap into them. ��It liked me, I think.” 

“Oh, I have no doubt it did, sweetheart. But just to be sure.” 

[moonshine-dan]

crossfade

oh god this was supposed to be for a collab but anyway

He said he could handle a little smoking. Maybe he lied. Maybe he's also hard. Either way, help him out.

Contains: recreational drug use (weed), mildly dubious consent (due to the drug use), dry humping, coming in pants

Sounds – smoke – voices –-  

It’s overwhelming until it cuts off.  

Tanaka's raucous laughter muffles abruptly as you pull the bathroom door shut behind you. Compared to the makeshift hotbox you’ve been spending the last half an hour in, the cool air of the hallway almost hurts to breathe, suddenly much too sharp and dry. The shock makes your eyes water. You screw them shut but vertigo warps you side-side-sideways until you’re certain the floor must be rising to meet you. It nearly lays you out, but the wall thankfully catches you. Your eyes open blearily after the impact, now less dry but just as bloodshot.  

There was no need to worry that Kei had left you behind. He also hasn’t made it very far. He's walking, or trying to, forearm braced on the wall as he steps very deliberately down the hall. You open your mouth to call for him, but you cough, buckling slightly.  

eugh. It's impossible to try to multitask until your body finishes adjusting. You force your thoughts to collect around what feels like a plank of wood lodged squarely in your forehead.  Focus: Tsukki is going back downstairs. The rest of the party is down there. Walk. You've done this before.  

You wrangle your senses and focus on your boyfriend's back. Vertigo doesn’t strike as hard with a visual anchor, you remember, temples pulling lightly as you try to mentally bully your body into submission. You catch up to him fast. He's barely made it farther than you. He either smoked more, which is unlikely – he was coughing so much he was probably getting most of his secondhand- or he was much more affected than you were.  

“I can handle myself,” he had said. The memory of Kei’s self-assured monologue on the front step bounces around your skull as you watch him finally make it to the stairwell. He looks down and pauses, blinking slowly. He raises a shaky foot, but stops again, frozen in what looks like a sloppy beginner’s yoga pose.  

Several seconds pass.  

He doesn’t move.  

“Tsukki?”  

If he was startled by your silent approach, it doesn’t show. There’s a slight tremor in his raised leg.  

“Are you... okay?”  

He doesn’t respond. Music drifts up from the stairwell. Muffled sounds of conversation leak from the door behind you.  

There’s no tension in his bloodshot eyes when he turns to face you. His mouth is hidden by his outstretched arm, but you still just barely catch his reply:  

“.... I don’t think I can make it down the stairs.”  

He stays frozen by the banister, staring slightly past you.  

You’re starting to think he may have overstated how experienced he actually was.  

The couch in the spare room took Tsukishima’s weight easily, but the force of his graceless collapse sent the purse resting on it to the floor. You follow him down with a little more thought, perched on his splayed thighs and nestling into his neck. The fabric of the jacket underneath both of you is plush under your knees. Kei’s pulse beats sluggishly against your cheek.  

“'s’this better?” you slur into the hollow of his neck.  

He huffs out a breath before replying, voice still thick and hoarse from the smoke.  

“Easier. Than the stairs.”  

His tone is much lighter than usual, and this somehow makes him twice as funny. You giggle belatedly, cheeks tingling with the cicada buzz of nicotine. He’s spread out on the couch like a scarecrow, not even trying to move, just laying where he fell. The steady rise and fall of his chest against yours is the only movement he’s making at all. You nose at the pulse point in his neck and try to burrow deeper, chasing the warmth. He smells bad, but also not? His cologne and smoke and more sweat than usual. Eventually, your previous train of thought works its way out of your mouth.  

“Pfft- too fucked up to move. I thought, I remember you, uh- said you’ve done this before?” Your tongue feels so heavy in your mouth. Thickly, you push it through your lips to swipe at the sweat on his neck.  

Tsukki hums. He lifts up his arm, wrist limp. You track it lazily from the corner of your eye without moving your head. The edges of it seem to blur like long exposure film.  

“I-- it wasn’t this much. Before, I mean.”  

You hum a thoughtful noise back at him as he jerkily twists the arm, hand flapping at the sudden movement. The palinopsia trails behind it like a comet.  It’s so odd, you think hazily, seeing him like this. He’s always so in control. The thought drifts off as fast as it arrived while you watch his hand flop gracelessly. You rock in his lap idly, captivated by the display.  

“I can think. I can move, it’s just... It feels like my body is… brand new.”  

His voice has a rasp to it still from the smoke.  His arm suddenly drops like a stone, pressing you deeper into him. It’s a clumsy attempt at a hug.  

“No–o muscle memory.”  The word drags on longer than he’d normally ever allow it to.

Despite knocking the breath from you momentarily it is comforting. You squirm, vying for a more comfortable position. Tsukki huffs, squeezing his arm tighter.  

“Stop moving.”  

You do not stop moving. The slick fabric of whatever jacket is trapped beneath the two of you is making you lose your position every time you get situated.  

“Slipp’ry,” you explain as articulately as you can.  

He grunts, twisting under you. His thighs press into yours, bucking your legs open wider slowly.  

hh -  

The breath is lost in the slick hiss of his jeans running over the jacket below. You match his movements and press down harder, unthinkingly chasing the feeling. There are too many layers, it’s rough and the zipper of your pants is digging uncomfortably, but you’re too gone to care. You clamp your thighs and buck, trying to press in close enough to-  

ah, he breathes.  

To get that reaction. Fuck. You sluggishly calculate the worth of removing your pants. Buttons and a zipper. Times two. Plus belt, not including getting the waistband down...  

There’s a pressure unrelated to the booze or the weed on your head suddenly, holding you still. Tsukki’s free hand rests there, his foolproof method to keep you in place. It usually is. He's usually not 4 drinks deep and crossfaded on whatever blend of dirt was in that sandwich bag you had rolled up. It's easy enough to slouch out of his grip and capture his arm yourself.  

Tsukishima's eyes are glazed but the look he gives you is sharp.  

"Hey."  

You stop. He blinks. He blinks again.  

"... I'm not taking my pants off."  

"Oh, good," you huff, "We're on the same page."  

The weed may have temporarily burned away most of your finer motor skills, but all you need right now is instinct. Your hands grab his shoulders and fall onto him, sending the both of you slipping sideways. He chuffs, sliding against the coat and your thighs to get more friction. The jacket below you protests every movement with a zwip .  

"This okay?" You mumble into unscented cotton. Your abs squeeze and your hips drop, dragging you closer to his crotch where you can feel his erection straining the front of his pants. From this angle you can't quite see his face, half-buried in his Henley. But you can hear his breath is beginning to go ragged.  

"Yeah," he croaks. His breath hitches as he grinds the heat of his erection into your thigh.  

"Yeah, fuck, I’m okay, it’s good..."  

Both of you fall back on baser impulses and rut, palms catching the fabrics of each other's shirts, thighs squeezing around each other's legs. Vertigo makes your head swim just as much as pleasure does. The two of you pant, pressing against each other uncoordinated in the drunken haze. The slick fabric of the coat under you makes keeping any position hard. Every movement is a struggle against your heavy limbs and the impossibly slippery coat, but getting up to move it seems like much more trouble than it’s worth. zwip. zwip.  It seems to mock you when you move. It’s easy enough to ignore as your mind tunnels in on coming.

In the constant struggle to stay on the couch you’ve somehow wound up firmly beneath him. Your fists grab his shirt, rucking it up and letting your other hand roam the hot skin underneath. On your back, dizzy now with no anchor, he thrusts against you shallowly, breath catching in his throat.

'fuck, fuck -" Tsukki whines, too gone to be embarrassed about how it sounds. You could hardly make it out through the staccato  zwip-zip of the jacket below you. He's close? Probably. So are you? maybe? Your legs think so, clamping down hard against his sturdy thigh, dragging deliciously into the friction.  

It urges him to chase your heat, thrusting harder into your thigh. His hips stutter, pressing and dragging his thigh against you deliciously. It breaks the rhythm of your cresting orgasm, sharp and sudden and peaking the pleasure in a way that makes you gasp.  

"uhh- fuck," you choke, climaxing unevenly, room spinning in time with your heavy breaths. Kei isn’t far behind, lips trembling as he loosely mouths your shoulder. He shudders against you, pulsing with every shot of cum into his jeans.  

Ugh, you think. He's gonna hate that tomorrow. You giggle, thrusting against his solid thigh, chasing aftershocks instinctively. His movements are slowing, the time between thrusts increasing as his orgasm fades. The jacket hisses when he does.

You press your hands into the warm skin of his back, feeling his chest move as he breathes loudly above you. He hums, making your palms vibrate as he nests clumsily halfway above-halfway beside you on the cushion.

Neither of you move much for a moment. The room is strangely silent until the ac kicks in and begins to cool your flushed skin. You groan, trying to squirm further under Tsukishima to get away from the bite of it. He breathes an annoyed hnn- when you accidentally press against his softening cock through his pants. Through his wet pants.  Oh yeah.  

“Oooh, Kei,” you lilt, woozy. He grunts.

“You made a messsss,” you continue, singsong, pressing gently into the wet stain with your leg.  

He chuffs half a laugh, burrowing his nose into your shoulder and tucking you in against his free arm. “‘sgusting,” you hear him whisper back.

Neither of your eyes are open. The pair of you stay there, quiet and unmoving, until your phone buzzes with a text from Noya.

whered u go, you read on the overly bright screen.

You move to untangle yourself from your boyfriend and mentally prepare yourself to finally, finally, make it down the stairs.

---

The crowd downstairs swallows the pair of you readily.

The party is less rowdy for the final few hours. The remaining time is mostly spent sobering up and talking, queuing up music requests and stupid youtube videos, calling rides and digging sports drinks out of the back of Tanaka’s fridge.  As the night truly winds down, individuals break away, heading upstairs for their jackets or belongings before leaving. When Suga comes back downstairs to leave with Daichi, the all too familiar zip-zwip sound follows him.  

Oh, shit. You catch Tsukki’s eye. He nods at your grim expression and it’s instantly, silently, decided.

He can never know what you did on top of his new winter jacket.  

[vhagarlovebot]

gwen, i need ur thought on dilf/older!aemond !!

MEAN!DILF AEMOND — NSFW, MINORS DNI.

♡. ── pics credit. ; ( aemond targaryen masterlist. )

pairing: dilf!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+, explicit content, aemond is in his late 30s, reader is in her early 20s, dubcon, somnophilia, mean!dilf aemond, marking/biting, edging, possessive!aemond, dacryphilia, degradation, praising, aftercare.

note: sorry it took me so long! if there are any mistakes i apologize but english is not my first language. reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!

aemond targaryen and you met after you answered his anonymous ad looking for a babysitter. you were struggling with college and paying rent, so it was something you really needed. and so aemond needed it too.

aemond emailed you an address for your first meeting and you almost fell off the chair when you googled the place; a very fancy restaurant in the upper side of town.

you dressed in your best clothes, a decent dress you knew would help you make a good impression, and made your way to the restaurant, so anxious you had to stop at the entrance and take a deep breath.

when the host led you to the table, you were met with the last person you were expecting. there, on a table for three, was sitting aemond targaryen—the ceo of one of the biggest corporations in westeros and member of one of the most renowned families—next to a silver haired girl clinging to his arm.

after you got over your initial shock and learned that he was actually really kind and easy going under that ‘dark’ facade he always showed to everyone—not that you really knew him, it was all based on the countless interviews on magazines—you were able to relax and answer all his questions.

you were also able to ask him anything and clear all doubt you had. you even talked to the little girl, vaella, who was no older than four years old.

your first weeks you didn’t see aemond. he told he was closing a very big deal and that you would need go stay at home to take care of his little girl. and you had no problem, everywhere was better than living with your very annoying roommate.

but once that job was finished. you started seeing him at home more often which only made you more nervous and uncomfortable. because every time you turned around, he was there leaning against the door watching you play with vaella, or simply looking at you from behind the newspaper while you feed vaella her breakfast.

the intensity in his gaze made your skin burn. every time you caught him checking you out, a shiver would roll down your neck as a warmth pooled in your lower belly at the thought of him finding you attractive. it made you feel good.

aemond made the first move one night after vaella fell asleep and found you next to her, asleep too.

aemond took you in his arms, wanting to leave you on the guest room and retreat to his own to rest, when he heard you mumble his name in your sleep. “what was that, kid?” he asked you, fingers caressing your cheek, aware you were dreaming. “oh fuck—aemond,” you moaned, and he couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto his face.

it didn’t matter to him that you were sleeping. after all it was of him you were dreaming of and he would not let that slide.

you thought you were having a very vivid dream, his hands on your body felt a little too realistic but you were enjoying it; you knew it was wrong and fucked up even in your subconscious but it feel too good to made yourself wake up. if you couldn’t make those fantasies come true, you will have him in your dreams.

aemond squeezed your breast, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and cupping your cunt. you moaned, eyes slowly fluttering open. it didn’t scare you seeing him so close, eyes so dark you couldn’t see his irises anymore. “was it a good dream?” he teased you, lips attaching to your left breast. it feel even better than your dream.

aemond wasn’t gentle that night.

but you like when he manhandles you and uses you for his own pleasure. if you’re a good girl and take everything he gives you, he lets you cum.

aemond likes to tease you. even more so when you are at one of the events he’s hosting at his house. you are always around because he likes to keep his daughter around. and he’s not going to lie, he likes seeing you all flustered when you caught him looking at you from across the room.

he would introduce you as his daughter’s babysitter, a hand on your lower back, thumb caressing your bare skin as he keeps a straight face as if he didn’t made you cum until your legs were trembling just a few minutes ago, hiding from everyone behind a bookshelf.

aemond would see you trying to hide the bite marks he left on your neck with a smirk on his face. he has to bite his lips to stop himself from chuckling when he sees people eyes darting to the place where the marks are more dark and visible, your face heating up at noticing it too.

he’s not an idiot, he sees how some of the men look at you, even asking him very inappropriate questions about you. aemond tries his best to hide his anger, clenching his jaw and excusing himself.

you end up bent over his desk on his studio after one particular men tried to flirt with you. “parading yourself like a slut. can’t even leave you alone for one minute.” he grunts, pulling down his pants.

when you’re watching a movie with vaella, aemond likes to have his hand on your thighs, squeezing and caressing just inches away from when you need him. you look at him, pleading, but he doesn’t even look in your direction, pretending to pay attention to the movie playing in the background.

and when he notices that you’re not able to keep still, parting your legs and bucking your hips up, trying to make him touch you, he slaps your thigh, nails digging onto the soft flesh making you whimper. “pathetic slut, you have no respect for my daughter.” he laughs at you, removing his hand.

aemond punishes you for being so greedy, edging you all night until you’re a crying mess and can’t think straight.

you sob, hot salty tears streaming down your face. “please, please!” you don’t even know what you are begging for. aemond feels bad for a second until he feels you tighten around his fingers, a dark laugh falling off his lips. “you like this, stop being a fucking baby and take it.”

and when he finally slides in, it’s too much. you’ve been at it for hours, and you’re too sensitive so you try to push him away but he pins your hips to the bed, frowning down at you and forcing you to take him to the hilt.

aemond has to put a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. “you need to keep it down, sweetheart. don’t want to wake vaella up, do we?”

aemond likes praising you, especially when you’ve been such a good girl for him, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with you.

“doing s’good for me, sweetheart.” he says, brushing a strand of hair out of your sweaty forehead and hips thrusting into you.

when he finally lets you cum, it’s devastating. it leaves you trembling, muscles going limp.

aemond always asks you where you want him to cum and your answer is always inside. he likes to hear you say it, he cums hard every time, painting your walls white.

after you both come down from your high, he does not hesitate to wrap you in his arms and kiss your temple, whispering soft words in your ear.

aemond cleans you up, gives you water, runs a bath for you and even gives you a massage. he lets you rest on his bed while he makes something to eat and checks on his daughter. he spoils you.

“you were such a good girl, it’s the least i can do.” he says, softly kissing your lips, after you try to get up and help him. “you need to rest, sweetheart.”

and the next morning when he sees you having trouble to walk straight or even sit, he needs to hide his smile behind his hand. seeing you that way only helps to feed his ego.