#fuck me going to sleep in peace apparently

[peachdoxie]

Some neighbor is blasting very loud music at 12:23 am. Why. Fuck you.

[youronlydarlin]

warning: Horny Simon ig, your kitty kat coded on this one, there's smut at the end btw

M' thinkin bout a Simon Riley who's darling has cat mannerisms.

Simon's always found it ironic how you claim to be a dog person. Even going as far as to owning one while literally being the physically embodiment of a cat.

He thinks it's cute though, how you just plop yourself on his lap like it's yours it is. Stroking his pretty baby's back, amused at your satisfied moans. Other things he's observed about you were probably your lack of energy on almost everything. You'd rather sleep the day away, your eyes, down turned n' half lidded even as you convince him that your not tired.

Your feisty too, you like to bite. Giving him the most nonchalant look on the planet as if you hadn't just bit his bicep for no apparent reason. All in all, he appreciates how chill you are with most things. Hell, he doesn't even know if you give a shit about anything that goes around you, as long as it doesn't disturb your peace.

Simon calls you his, pretty kitty. Bratty to everyone, but not as much with him. But he's gotta admit how hot it is seeing you pliant, n' submissive.

"T'aww... pretty kitty. Y' lost all your bite, n'd your bark.." he laughs at you cause he's a meanie like that. Big arms wrapped around your neck as he fucks you in a headlock, all cause you got the zoomies. By zoomies I mean you got incredibly horny, n decided to suck his dick while he was asleep. S' not your fault he was hard >:(

He'll switch positions eventually, flipping you on your back, n' he's bullying his massive cock in you not a moment later. Puts you in a mating press cause he likes how you claw at his back when he drills himself in so deep, that he sees the outline of it in your stomach. Your sharp nails drawing thin red lines on Simon's back, and it fucks him up, reduced to just babbling "yea–yes. Jus' like that kitty. Jus' like that......mark me up. Fffuck.."

a/n: I was in a somewhat lazy mood when I wrote this, so meh. N e ways, hope u enjoyed this darlings! Take care of yourself always!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[mellowswriting]

new perspective

pairing || Din Djarin x f!Reader

word count || 2.8k

summary || teaching the infamous Mandalorian to slow down and enjoy life isn't easy. it takes planning, patience - and silken sheets apparently.

content || SMUT, domesticity, simple pleasures, shower sex, sensual massages (i'm incorrigible), p in v sex, cowgirl position 🤠, slow sweet sex, post-orgasm planning for the future (this is din, after all)

a/n || i know, i know. i can hear it all now. "mel, where the fuck have you been???" celebrating my graduation and then immediately devolving into an existential crisis. but that's okay! not only have i figured out my direction in life, but i've returned with everyone's favorite topic: simping for Din Djarin.

Din Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library Blog

Din Djarin is not a man who knows how to take his time. He’s a workhorse, constantly on the go from one job to the next. He simply never learned the skill of savoring the little things in life. A good meal, a hot shower, a full night’s rest, leisure time. All of those things are simply a stranger to him. Any pleasure he takes, usually at his own hand, is perfunctory at best, a release of tension for its own sake.

Until you.

It starts simple - a set of silken sheets that you bring onto the Crest. Din returns to find you sprawled out on the small bed you share with a sleepy smile that makes his chest feel funny. Your fingers fan out against the soft material.

“Come feel.” You murmur. He doesn’t hesitate to tug off the thick leather gloves and brush the fabric with the back of his fingers. You watch as his shoulders soften, his head tilting as he takes in the foreign feeling. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” He says contemplatively. “It’s soft.”

Your smile widens and you shift over, making room for your lover. “Join me?”

“In a bit,” Din promises. The chill of his beskar soaks into your skin as he presses his forehead to yours. His warm palm cups your cheek and he holds you there for a breath before pulling away. “I have some more work to do.”

It isn’t hard to convince him to strip down when he joins you later that night. He’s exhausted, body aching from a long day’s work. He lets you strip away his armor and flight suit until he’s left in his briefs. You’re used to him falling asleep the moment he collapses into bed - but tonight is different. His eyebrows raise in surprise when he relaxes back into the pillows, his fingers rubbing circles against new sheets. Din is a man of few words but it’s obvious how much he likes the new addition to the bedroom.

“Come here,” He whispers, beckoning you to join him. The tension melts from his body as you curl up against his side. He tilts your chin up and kisses you softly, a wordless offer of his thanks that you eagerly accept. Surrounded by the cool sheets and the woman he loves, he falls asleep within minutes. That morning, Din lingers in bed for those first drowsy moments after waking. He wakes you with a few gentle caresses of his hands over your shoulder and arm and a murmur of your name. He looks more rested than usual.

You make sure to buy matching pillowcases the next time you’re out.

With every passing day, Din learns how to slow down and savor the morning. It doesn’t take much to keep him in bed with you a little longer each morning - a few soft touches and sweet kisses, and Din sinks right back into your arms. He rubs his face into the crook of your neck and drifts in and out of sleep, practically purring with every brush of your fingers through his hair. His voice, so deep and rough first thing in the morning, rumbles low in his chest as he murmurs his love into your skin. It’s simple, this early morning peace the two of you share. So simple, but so important.

You slip into the shower with him one random evening. You can’t help it. He’s been gone for two days straight on a bounty hunt and you’ve missed him. His eyes light up with interest as they trail over your naked body, his hands finding your waist and tugging you against him. A shiver of desire arcs up your spine - but you didn’t come here to get fucked silly in the shower. Well, not yet at least. You loop your arms around his shoulders and press up on your toes to kiss him properly. Din groans against your lips, already moving to press you against the shower wall. A gentle tug on his hair is enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Can I wash your hair?” You ask, looking up at him like the picture of innocence.

Din blinks at you, confused. “You want to… wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” You say softly.

There’s no need to over-explain. The two of you have mastered this silent communication over the months you have spent together. He searches your face for a moment before his expression softens, implicit permission given in the way his eyes shine for you. You gently lather shampoo into his thick curls and let your nails drag along his scalp in the way he loves. His eyelashes flutter under your touch but his eyes don’t close. He’s too intent on watching you. The grip he has on your hips tightens as you work, little groans falling from his lips at the simple pleasure of your hands on his body.

He lets you maneuver him and tilt his head back into the water without a hint of resistance. For a man so used to keeping everyone at arm's length, the trust he holds for you is plain as day. His cock twitches against your belly as your fingers meticulously work the suds from his hair. The barest hint of your skin against his is enough to get him riled up, but this…? The press of your slick, bare body pressed against his? His body language begs for more. He leans into the press of your fingers and cants his hips forward, slowly grinding against you with stuttered breaths.

The moment the water runs clear, Din lifts you by your thighs and presses you against the cold shower wall. You can’t help but admire the bulge of his biceps as he leverages you up and nudges your entrance with the head of his cock, searching your face for permission. The hungry kiss you drag him into is all the permission he needs. A new rush of adrenaline seizes his body as he sinks into you. He fucks you hard and fast, pace faltering at the pure heaven of your body. He wedges his hand between your bodies and rubs insistent circles against your clit. He just knows your body too well - within minutes, those frantic bursts of pleasure built into a powerful orgasm that leaves you trembling and weak in his arms.

Din buries his face in the crook of your neck as he spills inside of you just seconds later. Every moan and panted breath echoes through the small shower. You shiver at the feeling of his lips pressed against your neck. He always knows just where to kiss and touch to leave you like putty in his hands. He goes willingly when you guide him in for a real kiss, lazy and slow as the water streams against you. Careful not to let you slip, he lowers you onto your feet and maneuvers you until the water pounds against your back.

You should have expected him to return the favor. Din doesn’t take no for an answer.

“It’s your turn.” He murmurs, too adamant and stubborn to be swayed. You’ve always loved that about him, even when it gives you grief.

You melt into his chest as he works product into your hair, his fingers massaging at your scalp in a way you didn’t even know you needed. Little sounds of satisfaction fall from your lips with every touch. Sometimes you forget just how big his hands are. He palms the back of your head and draws you close enough that your noses brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. He just watches you for a moment as he thoroughly washes your hair. He takes in the way you look up at him with an expression so full of love that he aches.

“I love you,” His voice is so low that it almost gets lost in the thrum of water, but you hear it. He can tell by the way your eyes light up, by the soft smile that curls your lips.

“I love you, too.” You whisper back. Din kisses you softly before tilting your head back and rinsing the suds from your hair.

Slowly but surely, you introduce Din to a life he never realized was possible. He learns how to revel in the attention and care you give him. He learns how to give it in return. His thoughts always return to you when he’s on a bounty, knowing he has to return to his little love waiting for him at his ship. Every now and then, he finds something to bring back to you - a little trinket, some sweets, a new book. You always look at him as if he’s placed the entire universe in the palm of your hands. Fuck, he would do it, too. Anything to see you so happy.

Din returns from a week-long bounty exhausted, sore, and with a little gift in hand. It’s just a new robe, something soft and airy for you to wear on those long nights in hyperspace. You gasp softly when he hands it to you, your fingers exploring the silky fabric as if it’s precious - and to you, it is. Not because it’s some rare or expensive treasure. Just because it comes from him.

Allowing you to remove his armor is as easy as breathing. He eagerly accepts every touch and kiss you give him, more than happy to let you do as you please. You set every piece of armor aside with care and neatly fold his flight suit. It doesn’t take any convincing to get him into the shower with you. The burning heat of the water soothes some of the aches that linger in his muscles. A dull throb still follows his every move but he powers through, not wanting to spoil such a pleasant evening with his lover.

He never really learned that he can’t hide anything from you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as he eases himself onto the edge of the bed.

“Just sore,” He concedes, slowly rolling his shoulders in a vain effort to ease the tension. Your eyebrows furrow as you look him over with a keen eye. All you wear is that scrutinizing expression and the pretty robe he got you, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful. He sighs and reaches for your hand. “Come on, let’s just get some sleep.”

“You can’t sleep if you’re this uncomfortable.” You squeeze his shoulder, frowning when you feel how tight his muscles are. “Let me help.”

Din meets your gaze, your eyes so earnest that he doesn’t even think to deny you. He lets you maneuver him as you please until he’s laid out on his belly with you straddling his hips. A low groan rumbles through his chest when your hands bear down on his shoulders. Every pass of your fingers brings a strange combination of pleasure and pain that leaves him melting into the bed.

Even after all these months, he just isn’t used to the feeling of your skin against his. A simple passing touch is enough to have him shivering, but this? It’s overwhelming, all-consuming in the best possible way. It doesn’t take long for that pain to melt away into pure pleasure. Breathless, needy sounds follow every pass of your fingers. He can't help but rock his hips, grinding his cock into the silken sheets.

By the time you've finished working your thumbs into his lower back, you've reduced the Mandalorian beneath you into a desperate, hungry mess. He goes without hesitation when you urge him onto his back. His hands immediately find your hips and he grinds up into the heat of your cunt. The only thing that stops him from flipping you over and fucking you into the sheets is the gentle hand you place on his chest.

“Let me.” You whisper. Your voice carries a soft thrum of need that leaves him aching. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers tighten at your hips at the mere brush of your fingers against his cock. That grip becomes bruising as you slowly sink onto him. Pleasure curls through his belly at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him, so hot and slick and perfect - it would be so easy to lose his mind in the rapture of your body. It isn’t easy to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of pleasure, but it’s well worth it. He’s rewarded with the sight of your jaw falling slack and a shiver wracking your body. The stretch, the angle - it’s all new to you. You aren’t used to taking him this way. He isn’t used to letting you.

You sigh a breathy, pleased little sound that makes his heart skip a beat or two. Fuck, you might just be the death of him one of these days. It’s a demise he welcomes if it means meeting his end at your hands. That first roll of your hips has his head tipping back into the pile of fluffy pillows, yet another addition of comfort you’ve brought to this bed. You can’t take your eyes off him - the flex of his biceps, the clench of his jaw, the sheen of sweat that glistens on his tan skin. A delicious vision of the man you’ve come to love so dearly. You lean down and press a kiss to his chest, his collarbone, to that sweet spot where his pulse thrums in his neck.

Your fingers comb through his curls, bringing his pleasure-clouded gaze back to your own. His lips part as you set a slow, steady pace. Every rise and fall of your hips makes his eyelashes flutter but he doesn’t look away. He’s too entranced by this, by the pure newness of it all. Heat pulses and courses through your belly with every grind of your clit against him, grows stronger with every needy sound you pull from him. His chin tips up, an obvious plea, and you kiss him. Soft and slow, full of tongue and teeth.

Din doesn’t think he’s ever experienced anything quite as overwhelming as this. He isn’t a stranger to the feeling of your body or the love you somehow hold for him, but this is all new. Every slow rock of your hips sends honeyed pleasure slinking down his spine. There’s no need to rush. He can take his time and truly feel you, revel in the plushness of your thighs and the wet heat of your cunt. For the first time, he lets himself explore your body unhurried. His hands drift up and palm your breasts, his fingers rolling your nipple with a gentle touch. Your head tips back as you hum a pleased little sound.

Din can’t help but press his hips up, rising every time yours fall. He doesn’t take control, doesn’t try to set a faster pace. He just moves with you as fluid as rushing water. His hands shift to cup your ass, his fingers digging in and spreading you out for him. Desire clouds your gaze as he grinds his hips at that perfect angle that makes you see stars. You’re so close - he can feel it in the telltale rhythmic pulse of your cunt, in the way your thighs tremble. Slick drips in little rivulets down his thighs.

“Perfect, so perfect,” He rambles between rushed breaths. “My sweet girl, all mine.”

“Yours,” You promise. “I’m yours.”

All it takes is one perfect rock of his hips to have you falling apart for him. That tension finally bursts through your belly, your cunt tightening around him with every aching wave of pleasure. You lose all sense, all ability to keep your pace, but Din is quick to take over. His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you down, spilling himself as deep as your body can take him. You let yourself melt into his chest, a wave of pleasure shuddering through you with every twitch of his spent cock.

Din locks his arms around your back, all too content to keep your body against his. No complaint comes from you. You just tuck your face into his neck with a spent sigh. The two of you float together in that sweet, exhausted haze. He doesn’t know for how long, but he never wants it to end. He never wants any of this to end. He wants this forever, for every possible moment of his life to be soaked in this contentment. Surrounded by soft sheets and the smell of your perfume. Unhurried and easy, with you.

Months ago, such a realization would have thrown him into an existential crisis. But he didn’t have you all those months ago - this sweet, bright-eyed, spitfire of a woman currently taking a cat nap on his chest. He didn’t have the sweet scent of your shampoo infused in his sheets. He didn’t have your soft exhales ghosting along his throat. He just didn’t know that life could be like this. The moment you shift as if you’re making to get off of him, his arms tighten around you.

“Just a little longer,” He murmurs, his voice sleepy and pleasure drunk.

You're more than happy to indulge him.

[kannouo]

Ticklish?

fandom: obey me pairing: demon brothers & dateables x gn!reader warnings: suggestive on asmo's part summary: in which they find out you are ticklish. prompt by anon: The brothers + dateables reaction to the MC being ticklish because ik most of them are menaces about it A/N: lol rest in peace. good fucking luck mc. also i swear to god i know there's more to satan's character than his love of cats it just fits guys pls forgive me

LUCIFER

• Lucifer likes to appear as this super-serious macho man figure who, although he has his moments of going along with his siblings' antics, isn't a very playful guy. He's unlikely to find this out because he was trying to tickle you. Rather, it'd be by complete coincidence.

• When he offered to teach you to dance in the privacy of his room as classical music played in the background, you weren't expecting his hand on your waist to bother you as much as it did. Try as you might, you can't hide from him how you're biting your lip and stifling a giggle.

• "Is something funny to you?" He asks, unamused. You shake your head.

• "No, sorry. It just... tickles a bit."

• The only reaction you get in the moment is a hum and a nod. You're admittedly a little suspicious, but mostly grateful the dance lesson continued normally until you were able to return to your room.

• He's so unbothered by this new information, in fact, that you may even dare to think he'd all but forgotten about it when a few weeks pass by. Little did you know, he remembered. He was just storing it away for later use.

• Even the student council's representative of the human world was not immune to falling into Satan and Belphie's schemes, it seemed. After a failed attempt to capture a pic of a sleeping Lucifer, you find yourself trapped between him and the wall as he looms over you. You desperately hope that, just maybe, Satan or Belphie would come to your rescue — but alas, you had been left abandoned in the lions' den.

• "Bold of you to attempt to sneak up on me in such a vulnerable state," he clicked his tongue, agitated. "I'd assume you would know better by now."

• "I'm sorry, I—"

• "'Sorry'? Yes, you will be." He closed in on you.

• The shrieks that emanated from Lucifer's room that night could only be described as unholy as he unleashed his brand-new punishment on you. Out of everyone in the House of Lamentation, you hadn't expected the mighty first-born to be the one to tickle you half to death, but it was effective. If that was what was waiting for you, you were more than willing to give Satan and Belphie the cold shoulder the next time they suggested a new, ingenious prank to play on Lucifer. Sorry guys. It's not worth it.

"Come on, MC, this'll be our best work yet," Satan trails after you you down the hallway, clearly not keen on letting the matter go. He had taken the liberty of convincing you of the Anti-Lucifer League's newest escapade, as Belphie apparently refuses to be of any help. "We've planned it all out. It won't go wrong this time. I swear." You turn to look at Satan, catching a glimpse of Lucifer a short distance away over the fourth-born's shoulder. All it took was a knowing smirk and a mildly threatening gesture with his hands for you to turn pale. "MC?" "...I'm good, Satan, thanks."

MAMMON

• Unlike his older brother — Mammon would absolutely find this out on purpose.

• He's the spiritual eldest when it comes to playing around with his siblings, so he's experienced in tickle-fighting. You, unfortunately, only realised this while wrestling with him, when he suddenly starts tickling your sides to gain the upper-hand. It works, and now you're flailing around beneath him.

• "Hah! Take that!" You hear him laugh triumphantly above you as you struggle to force his attacking hands away from you. "Ya give in?!"

• "Yeees! You win, you win!"

• After your rather humiliating fake-wrestling defeat, he only gets more annoying with abusing your weakness as the days go by. As he learns all of your worst spots, he gets more and more bold, until not one day can go by where you aren't tackled and tickled to tears by the Avatar of Greed.

• Eventually, you're going to have to set some ground rules with this guy, because he just will not stop. For weeks after that initial incident, you find yourself constantly on edge no matter where you are, because he could be anywhere. Just planning the next tickle.

• Sure, it can be fun at first, but he always manages to take his play-fighting just a little too far. You don't have the same tolerance as his brothers, being a human and all, and he needs to remember that.

• Being tickled by Mammon is nowhere as unfair and torturous as it is with Lucifer though, mostly because unlike his older brother, Mammon is ticklish too. This means you can fight back and potentially even gain the upper-hand. It's unlikely you'll win in a chase, however — no matter if you're the one running or if he is — he's just too damn fast.

• He's the definition of being unable to take what he dishes out. Not only does he cry 'uncle' as soon as you land on a weak spot, but he'll be super pouty and embarrassed afterwards too. As if he wasn't the one who initiated it.

"Mammooon..." You poke his cheek, trying to provoke any sort of response. He huffs and turns his head away, but still doesn't say a word. "Mams... Babe..." "That ain't fair," he finally speaks, his cheeks tinging with red. "Ya can't call me that when I'm tryin' to be mad at ya." You can't help but smile at the demon before you. "I'm sorry for tickling you, Mammon." "Yeah? Well... I think I'm owed some compensation for that. 5,000 Grimm, at least!"

LEVIATHAN

• Levi wouldn't find this out on purpose. Or, rather, at all. At least not on his own.

• He freaks out and backs away every time his hand manages to accidentally brush against yours when he hands you something. He apologises profusely and feels like the absolute perverted scum of the earth when he happens to bump into you in the hallway. He refuses to hold hands with you beyond intertwining your pinkie fingers together, because anything more than that is too lewd for him.

• So yeah. He's not going to tickle you. Not even accidentally.

• He only ends up finding out when he catches you and Mammon having a tickle fight in the living room one day, to which he promptly leaves before either of you can notice him. Both to quell the jealousy bubbling in his chest, and to avoid Mammon roping him into his shenanigans.

• After that, he... does nothing, really.

• See, here's an interesting fact about the Avatar of Envy: He's ticklish too. Very ticklish. And his siblings, especially Mammon, tease him for it all the time. He absolutely hates it and it's just not funny to him. So even if he was able to touch you without taking 6000 points of damage to his psyche, he still wouldn't tickle you, because he understands how it feels.

• Instead, you could say that you two form an alliance of sorts. You defend him when one of his brothers (MAMMON) starts chasing him — using your pact if you have to — and he allows you safe refuge in his room if somebody is after you. His door has a lock on it after all, and knowing the consequences of trying to force their way inside the resident hermit's safe abode, your pursuer is unlikely to look for you in there.

• He might make fun of you a little for it, but that's the most he'll do. He won't lay a finger on you. Good guy Leviathan.

You restlessly chap on Levi's door, moving back and forth on your toes as you desperately hope for him to let you in. The seconds count down before your attacker will find you, when finally... Click. The door unlocks and you grab the handle, swinging it open and nearly hitting Levi in the face in the process. "Sorry, sorry!" You profusely whisper-yell apologies as you shut the door behind you. He locks it, and you can finally breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you... You saved me..." Levi's cheeks burn red at your words. "Y—yeah, well... don't make a big deal out of it, normie. If you're staying in my room, then you're playing games with me too while you're here, okay? So... make yourself useful or I'll kick you back out!"

SATAN

• Maybe this is just me, but have you ever had a cat on your lap that just won't stop moving around and it sort of tickles? Yeah.

• A simple date to a cat café went from good, to better, then to worse in a very short span of time. Most of the kitties were awake and lively, wandering around and allowing you to pet them. So when one of the cats jumped up on your lap, both you and Satan were ecstatic, cooing endlessly at the little ball of fur that had made itself at home on your legs.

• The only problem was, the cat seemed to be unable to find a comfortable spot. You were trying to stay still, you really were, but the cat's paws constantly moving against your thighs made you really need to move around in your seat. Satan noticed how you had to force yourself to stay put by gripping onto the table in front of you, and he also noticed how you were biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling like an idiot, but he didn't say anything at first.

• The first time Satan tickles you, it comes completely out of nowhere. To you, at least. Some exams were coming up and you agreed to let him tutor you, but the material was just so boring, and Satan's delivery of it certainly wasn't helping to keep you engaged...

• You were abruptly brought back to reality by a sharp jab to your side. You jumped and looked around, as if searching for the culprit, only to see Satan, with his eyes narrowed at you. "Pay attention."

• "I was!"

• "No you weren't," he poked you once in the side for each word to enunciate his sentence, and then grabbed you by the waist to prevent you from escaping. "Are you going to listen to me now?"

• "Ye-ees!"

• "Are you sure?"

• Satan's kind of a dick about it, to be honest. He'll tickle you to convince you to do things with him. You don't want to partake in his newest prank against Lucifer? Uh... yes you do, remember?

• He's also a hypocrite. He is ticklish but he hates it just as much — if not more — than Levi. So if you do it back to him, he'll shove you off or yell at you.

"Fi—fine! Fine!" You yell, and Satan's attack on your sides ceases. He looks down at you with an eyebrow raised. "You'll do it?" "Yes!" You nod furiously. If getting him to stop meant agreeing to prank call Lucifer, you suppose you'll just have to do it. "Now get off!" "Good," he smiled and moved off of you from where he had you pinned. "Now, about the plan I had prepared..."

ASMODEUS

• ...You know the deal. There is going to be a struggle keeping these headcanons SFW.

• He can find out one of two ways: the first being that he was doing your makeup and somehow found out by brushing too close to your neck or jawline, the second being that you two were leading up to... other activites.

• We'll be going with the former for my own sake lol. He realises what your reaction was for after the first time you tilt your head away from him, and can't help but tease you for it right away.

• "Oh darling, how did I not know this before? Are you keeping secrets from me? ♡"

• Somehow, Asmo ends up being one of the worst for how he takes advantage of this. He will tickle you anywhere at any time and for any reason.

• If he thinks you're not paying enough attention to him, he'll tickle you so you're forced to focus on him. If he sees you using makeup wipes on your poor, delicate skin, he'll tickle you as a "warning" to never do that again. Eventually he just starts making up reasons.

• You can tickle him back, but he enjoys it and will try to use it to lead into sex. So, unfortunately, that won't work to dissuade him.

• Don't think for a moment he's embarrassed or ashamed of his behaviour in public settings, because he isn't. He has no qualms with tickling you in a restaurant with strangers around, and doesn't care how much attention you end up attracting. It's hell.

• He's another boy you're going to have to set boundaries with at some point just because of how frequent it is. The tipping point came when he squeezed your leg in the middle of a student council meeting and you hit your knee so hard on the table you were convinced you broke something.

• He'll back off if you tell him to. You just need to actually tell him to, otherwise he won't realise how much it bothers you.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry..." Asmo pouts as he gently rubs your aching knee. "I didn't realise you'd react like that." You huff and turn your head away from him. "Don't turn this on me." "I'm not!" He shakes his head and leans forward to look you in the eye. "I swear! I just didn't know that'd happen. Can you forgive me, honey? I promise you I won't do it again. I can't have you bruising that beautiful skin because of me..."

BEELZEBUB

• Beel, similar to Levi, isn't likely to find out on his own. For different reasons, though.

• Beel isn't afraid of physical touch, but he is scared of hurting you. He's so big and you're so small. He's fully aware of his strength, and even if he has good control over it, he tends to treat you like how one would handle a delicate China plate. It's not that he doesn't touch you at all, but he's so careful when he does that he probably won't even unintentionally find out that you're ticklish.

• The only way he'd find out is if he stumbled across you in the midst of a (usually very one-sided) tickle fight with one of his brothers. In which case, he will usually step in to save you.

• As the second-youngest, he's used to being teased in a similar manner by his older siblings. So if he sees you pinned down, he'll intervene so you can catch your breath and get away.

• If you run to him for protection, much like Levi, he'll take you back to his room and won't let anyone else except Belphie inside until it's safe to assume whoever was after you has given up. You don't have to, but if you thank him by bringing him a few snacks from the fridge later, he'll be happy.

• Such a sweetheart and probably won't ever tickle you. He really doesn't want to upset you.

• The only time I can see him tickling you is if you're having a bad day and he decides you need cheering up. He'll be sat next to you, staring intently at your frowning face as the gears turn in his head. He doesn't know what your day was like or why you're so peeved, but he knows he wants to see you smile again.

• He'll scoot closer, trap you in a hug with one arm and use his free hand to (very carefully) tickle you until you give in. He'll apologise, but as long as that smile is back on your face, he's satisfied.

• "Do you feel better?" He asks, a sweet smile on his face as he pats your head. And you have to admit, you do.

You could swear you saw Beel's eyes sparkle as you offered him the box of chocolates in your hands. You were saving them to eat yourself at some point, but... seeing as Beel valiantly defended you from Asmo earlier, you figure he at least deserves this. He manages to pry his eyes away from the chocolates to look at you. "...Why?" "Because you saved me from Asmo earlier," you explain and hold the box of chocolates closer to him, urging him to take them. "This is my 'thank you'." Finally, he takes the box from you. "...You didn't have to." Despite his words, he opens the lid and starts devouring the chocolates inside so quickly that you don't even have time to remind him to take the wrappers off.

BELPHEGOR

• There are a few scenes in-game where he tickles or tries to tickle the MC, so yes, he'd absolutely find out very quickly.

• Belphie is not only a little shit — he's also spoiled and likes getting his way. So, like Satan, he'll tickle you to convince you of things. Usually it's when he doesn't feel like doing dinner duty or cleaning his room, or if he can tell you're hiding something from him.

• The first time he tickles you, it's because he had an assignment due the next morning. One he had procrastinated on for weeks. You had reminded him time and time again to start working on it as the deadline approached, but he ignored you, and the situation he's in now is, quite frankly, his own fault. So even as he whines to you about how sleepy he is and tries to butter you up so you'll do it for him, you don't give in.

• That is, until he has an idea. With an exaggerated pout on his face, he moved up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in a hug, lazily slumping against your back. Just as you were about to scold him, you felt him start to ruthlessly tickle your sides.

• With his body weight on you, there was little you could do. And even as you fell to the ground, he simply followed you, taunting and teasing you the whole time. When he thinks you've had enough, he hovers above you with a smirk on his face.

• "So? Do you feel like doing it now?"

• Little fucker. He cuddles with you later to "thank" you, but you're still salty about it.

• Like most others on this list, you can get him back. He's the baby of the family so of course he's ticklish. Expect him to use dirty tricks to win any tickle fight you initiate, however. Like "giving in" only to immediately attack once you stop, or using the fluffy end of his tail to catch you by surprise.

• Beel tends to come to his rescue a lot as well, so beware of that.

"I—I give! I giiive!" You smirk in triumph as the youngest demon brother surrenders beneath you, and you let up your tickling assault. You roll off of him, fixing your ruffled hair. "See? That's what happens when you challenge me," with your back turned, you're too busy congratulating yourself to notice Belphie slowly sitting up behind you. "Anyway, you need to— AH—!" You shriek as you're tackled down to the bed again, cursing as Belphie grins down at you, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic light. "Belphie! That's cheatING—!!" And so, it starts again.

DIAVOLO

• Diavolo likely finds out in a similar fashion to Lucifer. Only it might be at a ball rather than in a secluded area.

• He's confused at first. He knows what tickling is, but being extremely sheltered, he's never received much affection like that in his life. As a result, it takes him a moment to put the pieces together. Once he does, he smiles fondly down at you and apologises, and that is that.

• ...For now.

• What he didn't show right away was just how giddy this discovery made him. What an adorable trait to have! And one he had to see more of. He'd missed out on tickle fights his whole life — he had to wonder what they were like?

• He made a mental note to experiment with this information the next time you came around to the palace. And that he did.

• Literally yells "tickle fight!" before pulling you close and going to town. You have to yell for him to be gentler, because inexperienced as he is, what should tickle actually kind of hurts at first.

• "Ah, I'm so, so sorry," he relaxes his fingers a little, no longer digging into your skin. "Is this any better? My sincere apologies."

• His apology would seem a lot more genuine if he didn't continue to tickle you while saying it.

• That, and he doesn't quite understand the concept of a tickle fight. What he's doing to you is more like a tickle beat-down. It's so one-sided it's almost comical. Unable to fight back or escape, Barbatos has to come and tell him to stop before you piss yourself.

• This was fun! He decides completely on his own. We should do this more often! He says, as you are gasping for breath on the fucking ground.

• After this first experience, he incorporates more minor tickling into your daily lives. Instead of trapping you like the first time, he'll sneakily poke you while walking by, and then look back at you with a wave and a completely innocent smile on his face.

"MC? Apologies, you seem to be in the middle of something. It won't take long," Diavolo smiles as he enters the empty student council hall. Indeed, you are in the middle of sorting some letters, but it isn't as if you can deny an audience to the Demon King. "I have a question for you. It appears... as if you've been avoiding me lately. Why is that?" You blink, trying to discern if he was serious. The look on his face said yes, he was. "...Diavolo, whenever we sit next to each other, you keep reaching over to tickle me." He meets you with a surprised expression as if this is somehow news to him. "I did not know it was such a problem," He confesses. "Very well, then. I'll stop. If I do, will you start sitting beside me again? I quite miss it."

BARBATOS

• He already knew. Lol.

• He officially "finds out" for the first time when he just happens to walk in on Diavolo tickling you half to death and saves you from his grasp. In reality, he already knew this was going to happen and planned to show up just in time to clean you off of the floor once Diavolo had his fun.

• You're thankful he showed up, though. If not for the fact he rescued you, then for the tea he served you afterwards to ensure you wouldn't have had an entirely terrible experience that day.

• As for what he does with this information? Well, not much. At least, it doesn't seem like it to you.

• Barbatos knows how to be sneaky with how he uses this to hear you laugh throughout the day. He'll brush his hand against your skin while reaching for something, "accidentally" touch your back and make you jump while walking by you, and it will always seem unintentional. At first, that is.

• Red flags start to raise when these accidents seem to happen multiple times, every single time you're around him. He knows when you're starting to get suspicious too, and that's around the point he stops even trying to pretend like it isn't intentional. He'll keep doing it, but flash you an infuriating, coy smile after each time.

• Now it's war.

• If this is the game he's playing, you might as well participate.

• The only problem being... it's Barbatos. He knows when you're planning something and exactly how you're going to execute it. You can't even land a hand on the bastard.

• And even if you did somehow manage to (AKA he lets you), you genuinely have no idea if he's even ticklish. He won't react to anything you do to him, but he also won't give you a straight answer if you bluntly ask him if he's ticklish or not. He just looks at you with that signature poker-faced smile. And with that, he turns and walks away. YOU NEED ANSWERS.

• Eventually you become convinced that he isn't actually ticklish at all, but he lets you think he could be because he enjoys seeing you so determined to catch him off-guard.

"B—Barbatos!" You jerk your body away as his hand "somehow" manages to pinch your side while reaching for the utensils drawer next to you. He smiles. "My apologies, it was an accident." He says, and you call bullshit right away. With a newfound desire for revenge, you latch onto his side and start to tickle, but frown when he doesn't react at all. In fact, he simply opens the drawer and takes out a few of the cutlery inside like he initially intended to do, as if you aren't even there. He meets your eye with another, slightly more amused smile, before turning and leaving the room. You stand there, dumbfounded. Though... you could've sworn you saw him flinch a little when you first touched him.

SIMEON

• Simeon is also ticklish and is another example of someone who knows how it feels. He's not likely to tickle you often.

• That's not to say he doesn't find it amusing or cute — he absolutely does — but his first thought when the back rubs he gave you with the intention of being soothing turned ticklish wasn't that he should take advantage of it, rather that it's just something new he now knows about you.

• Simeon won't ever intentionally tickle you because it's, well, mean. He'll only do it if he gets "permission", meaning if you do it to him first.

• He enjoys seeing you smile and laugh, but he doesn't ever want to go too far. Most of the tickle fights you initiate are won by him — don't let his appearance and sweetness fool you, he's still much stronger than you are — but they also don't last long. He'll stop, apologise, and offer to make up for it with anything you want.

• "Sorry, sorry," Simeon smiles as he helps you back to your feet, brushing your hair out of your face. "Are you alright? Come on, let's sit down together. No more tickling, though."

• He... tries to be a protector of sorts if Solomon or anyone else is after you. I can't say it works out well for him though, and whoever was after you just ends up with two victims instead of one.

• Bless him for trying. At least you're not suffering alone.

• When you come around to Purgatory Hall, depending on your friendship with Luke, you two may have playful tickle wars that go on. He won't interfere, but Luke does tend to use Simeon as a shield or claims that you're "bullying" him. Simeon never takes it too seriously and you can usually continue your playful tickle-attack uninhibited.

You lay, breathless and sweaty on the floor. You stare up at the ceiling as you pant for air and slowly sit up, wiping at your forehead. You turn to the man sprawled out on the floor right next to you, the both of you having just endured the same tickle-attack by Solomon. "...Are you alright?" Simeon slowly turns his head to look at you and meets you with an exhausted smile. "Yeah, I'm fine... you?" "...Yeah." You sigh. Silence fills the air for a moment, interrupted only by your heavy breathing. "...Wanna get him back?" As angelic as Simeon still is... even he can't refuse that offer.

SOLOMON

• This shady sorcerer absolutely finds out on purpose.

• After one too many times where you've outright banned him from the kitchen to prevent some kind of national tragedy, he decides he's owed some kind of penance. So the one time you allow him in the kitchen while you cook — under strict supervision — he sneaks up behind you and...

• "Solomon!" You squeal, nearly dropping the ingredients in your hands as he hugs you from behind and uses the position to start furiously tickling you.

• "What? Why are you laughing?" He asks cheekily. "You better be careful. You don't want to ruin dinner, right?"

• After the first incident, it gets much, much worse.

• He'll tickle you at any time, anywhere, whenever he feels like it. It doesn't matter how busy you are or how important what you're working on is, he will interrupt you out of nowhere to tickle you until he's satisfied. Prick.

• He thinks it's funny to tickle you in inconvenient or inappropriate settings, too. If you're sat in front of or next to him in class, you can expect him to start repeatedly poking you or enchanting a few items to tickle you as you desperately try to hold back any reactions because then you'll be the one embarrassing yourself.

• He's also ticklish, but will go to great lengths to avoid you ever figuring that out. Probably drinks some kind of potion that dulls his sensitivity before seeking you out to tickle you just in case you try to get revenge on him.

• Of course, you can still catch him when he's unprepared. And when you do, it's war.

• At least Purgatory Hall is never boring with you two around.

You stare down Solomon as you face one another at opposite ends of the dining table. He's grinning at you, and every now and again tries to rush over to where you are, at which point you circle the table to keep the distance. "You can't keep going forever." He taunts. "Watch me, motherfucker," you curse, but it's true. You're already out of breath. He tries to charge you again and you react quickly, hurrying back around to the other side of the table. Just as you do, however, he changes direction. You're unable to turn around in time and he catches you, damn near lifting you up into the air with how he grabs you. "Solomon! Stop it!" "You started it," he argues. "Now suffer the consequences."

[unearthly-doting]

finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

[mydarlingclaudia]

I could be mom (unless you want to be dad)

note : divider is from @/grlselle. handful of paragraphs before smut sowwy. I also just wrote this spur of the moment because I finally had a bit of motivation and this is the winner of that poll I did last week and I was bored so the smut isn't that long and I'm remembering that I never really knew how to write smut soooo. mdni

wc : 1.4k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : whiny husband. smut!! - unprotected p in v, riding. established relationship, little bit of fingers in mouth whoopsie, you've got a daughter, fem!reader, vendetta!Leon, not proofread

You unbuckle your daughter’s seatbelt and pick her up out of her booster seat, housing her up onto your hip while you straighten your purse on your shoulder and walk to the front door. Leon’s motorcycle is propped up on its kickstand in the driveway, you didn’t know he was supposed to be back yet. He told you he’d be getting home late, but you got home later than him, apparently. At least your daughter wouldn’t jump up on him now that you’re home, she’s out cold, he’s probably drunk or asleep.

New York had been hard on him. You were upset enough when he told you he was going to Colorado for a week three days beforehand, but having him come home and tell you he didn’t even get to relax as much as he wished because he got pulled into work just made you annoyed. You loved your husband, truly, but he could piss you off like no one else. You know his work is messy, you know he can’t be around all the time, you know he’d rather ease his problems by drinking rather than opening up to you. And you know he's trying to protect you and your daughter, you just can't really help but want something normal.

Maybe you had to work on actually planning things with him, though. Dinner was often between five and nine p.m., you and Leon haven’t been on a date night in like, what, a year now? You know it’s not about him not being attracted to you, your schedules are just so busy that there hasn’t really been enough time for the two of you to go out on a dinner date or something like that.

The house is dark when you step inside, you don’t smell any alcohol, either. You kick off your shoes and take your daughters off as well before you put your keys into the tiny bowl on the kitchen counter, you’re not going to bother to change your daughter into her pajamas, she’s already in shorts and a shirt, that’s good enough and you’re tired, anyway.

Her room is always messy, you’re lucky you don’t trip over any toys even when you turn on the light. You spend maybe ten seconds tucking her in and kissing her cheek before you shut off her light and head to your bedroom, Leon’s asleep on the bed, he doesn’t even smell like beer, which is a good thing.

Leon always looks more peaceful when he’s sleeping, you wish you had offered for him to come over to your friend’s house with you and your daughter tonight, maybe letting him rest was good, though. So you change into pajamas and lay next to Leon, who instantly stirs.

“Hm…?” Leon murmurs when you wrap your arm around him.

“It’s me,” You whisper against his bare shoulder, you immediately feel him relax.

“When’d you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Have fun?”

“Mhm,” You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, he hums and readjusts the pillow under his head before he finally decides it's to his liking and rests against it again. "Love you."

"Love you, too." You hardly hear him say it, but you squeeze him a bit tighter, hearing the soft chuckle he lets out before he falls back asleep a few seconds later.

—

You and Leon shift around in bed a lot at night, you're never in the same position you went to sleep in when you get up in the morning.

Tonight, though, you wake up to Leon grinding against your hip at one in the morning. You're not mad, he was doing it in his sleep, anyway. Doesn't stop you from waking him up and climbing on top of him after you pull his boxers down.

"Christ, Leon, shut the fu-fuck up!" You hiss at him, continuing to slowly ease yourself up and down on his cock. You've never heard him so whiny before, could've been because the two of you haven't had sex in a little bit.

"C-Can't help i-it-" He gasps out, digging his fingers into the plump flesh of your hips while he bucks up into you. You've been doing this for maybe five minutes now, trying to tell him to be quiet and that you aren't forgetting his needs, but his face is so flushed and his chest is heaving and you can't really tell if he's even trying to do as you say.

His mouth remains open as he continues to let more and more lewd noises escape his throat whenever you sink back down onto him, you don't know how he isn't getting cramps in his hands from gripping onto you so tightly.

But you continue on, squeezing around him tightly because it made him feel even better inside of you. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, your eyes screwing shut while Leon's stay glued to where you're joined, watching as your cunt sucks him in over and over again.

His expression is nothing but pleading and needy and you're so in love with it, your hands rest on the soft fat of his pecs, his trembling hands can't stay in one spot anymore.

"Sweetheart, God, p-please." Leon's voice only gets louder and you have to shush him again, your eyes staying open long enough to shoot him an angry glare.

"If you wake her up-"

"I won't!" He cuts you off, his hips bucking against yours again while his head falls back against his pillow. You're probably not much quieter than him, hearing him whine and moan only triggers something in your brain that makes you mimic him, and there's the soft plap plap of your bodies to go along with it.

You've tried kissing him to swallow up his moans, but your mouths never stay connected for long due to lack of oxygen or he just can't hold your head in place. But his lips are still glossy with his drool and yours, and there's a few hickeys on his neck that he'll stare at for the next handful of days to come.

You know he's close, you're not far behind. Though, you know that when he cums he won't shut up.

But you continue to push your hips up and down, trying to keep your eyes from rolling back when you sink down onto him fully. It only adds more fuel for him to get increasingly louder, muttering about how good you feel and how he needs to cum inside you.

A few more thrusts and he'll be done, you know it. So before he can wake up the whole neighborhood, you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you so you can kiss him. You know that's not enough, of course. So when you pull away from him, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen lips to his, you push two fingers into his open mouth, trying to not his the back of his throat. Leon waits for only a second before he realizes, biting down on the base of your fingers lightly only to then suck on them.

And you're right, as always. After a few more thrusts he cums inside you, moaning around your fingers. The sight of his drool coating your knuckles and eyes lidded with pleasure almost does it for you, but you meet your own release after you raise yourself up to get him balls-deep a few more times.

You sit there on top of him for a few more minutes, looking up at your ceiling while you catch your breath. Leon has yet to tip his head back and slide your fingers from his mouth, trying to catch his breath, same as you.

You're the one to pull away from him, he looks a little annoyed when you pull your fingers out of his mouth and wipe some of the spit onto his chest, but you know he loved everything the two of your just did. Leon smiles at you after a few seconds, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you down onto him for a kiss.

"When did you get so whiny?" You whisper against his lips, then press a few soft kisses there.

"Don't tell anyone," You snort and pull back from him, your hand cups his cheek and he smiles against your palm.

"I wouldn't, that's only for me, right?"

"Only for you,"

[coriosbunni]

꩜ .ᐟ - just lay there

pairing: bestfriend!coryo x fem!reader

warnings: degradation, breeding kink, dom!coryo, sub!reader, nasty morning sex, cunnilingus, spitting, masturbating, instructions, slight nipple play, possessive, size difference, pet names

summary: after a party at felix's mansion, you wake up next to your hung bestfriend and your thoughts start to go crazy as he wakes up. he acknowledges his problem and comes up with a solution.

you shift around in the bed as the bright sun invades your peaceful sleep. you and coryo went out last night as a last minute decision. the president's son had thrown a party not to celebrate anything special, but just because the boy wanted to.

you open your eyes, squinting against its golden rays as they flood your vision.

dehydrated from last night's posca, you spotted a water bottle at coryo's desk.

you slowly pulled the covers off of you, as to not wake coryo up, and took light steps to his desk. he was a light sleeper and you didn't want to disrupt his sleep. you knew he was a grump early in the morning and you certainly didn't want to feel his wrath.

you opened the water bottle as you headed back to the bed, missing the comfort and softness of the bed already. though you came back to a sight that was the opposite.

the covers laid slightly above coryo's thighs exposing his boxers and his apparent morning wood.

this never happened before. what were you supposed to do seeing your childhood best friend's hard on for the first time during a sleepover?

you and coryo always had sleepovers but you never saw him have a morning wood. as you looked at his cock peeking through his boxers, your eyes widened and you covered your mouth as you realized he was thick and long.

fuck. you never knew that he was that big. hes at least 8 inches or more. you've always wondered how long he was but you never thought too much about it.

god it was embarrassing how you were thinking about your best friend dick. but he's big, you couldn't help yourself.

god! you were getting lousy dick when you couldve just went to coryo and maybe he couldve helped you out.

you composed yourself and drank your water. you set it on the bedside table and settled back in bed. pulling the covers back over your body to invite the soft and comfortable environment to lull you back to sleep.

but it wasn't working

your mind was filled with how you want coryo to fuck you. him gripping your hips as he pushed himself in and out of you in a rough pace. his hand on your throat as he looked at you, whining and begging underneath him. your hands settled on his chest for stability as you rode him, feeling him hit your g spot over and over again.

you were getting wet at every dirty thought your mind came up with. and you were cursing yourself at how your mind had endless thoughts of how you imagined your best friend to fuck you.

as you desperately tried to go back to sleep, coryo started to wake up. he noticed your eyebrows scrunched up and he wondered if you were already up.

"are you up already?" coryo asks in his deep morning voice. your heart skipped and your body went still, his voice had scared you and pulled you of your thoughts. "yeah, i just got some water. did i wake you?" you opened your eyes to look at him for a second before looking away. you were reminded that you were just thinking the nastiest thoughts of your best friend. "mm only a little but it's okay" coryo yawned out

he stretched his body out and realized he had a hard on. "oh fuck i didn't notice that– wait you didn't see that right?" he asked, worry filling his voice. you didn't expect for him to bring it up. fuck how are you supposed to respond?

"well–" you let out but he interrupted you "you were up before me, no?" he asked, getting you off guard once again.

"um yeah, i was honestly surprised to see you hard" you said, deciding to acknowledge it and to not be awkward with the topic.

"its the morning what do you want me to do"

he's always been a little sassy and you'd be lying if you said you weren't too.

you thought about what he said and realized what he implied. "you have one every morning??" you asked him, you never knew he was hard in the mornings. was it because he was always up before you?

"i can't help it y/n, i was just sleeping."

"damn, it was because me wasn't it?" you joked, you might as well make fun of him for it. you started laughing at him and your question made him flustered

"shh no it wasnt. i wasn't doing anything recently–"

"you know you were making noises and pushing your hips up" you lied to him, making fun of him even more. this was a defense mechanism to the fact you were dreaming of ways he would fuck you.

"i was not! now you're lying to me i wasnt fucking—i usually have to jerk off in the morning" he was getting annoyed at your lies but this new information didn't help the growing ache your cunt had.

he jerks off every morning. fuck you never had a clue he did.

he noticed your reaction and he continued to defend himself "i have to, i have to jerk off before i go to sleep and when i wake up or im gonna be insane all day, im gonna be terrible all day if i don't. and i didnt jerk off last night cause we passed out." images of him relieving himself every day and night flashed in your head and it grew your desire for him.

"you're always hard in the mornings?" you softly asked him, looking at him with a new way you never did before. the way his muscles were visible, the untamed curls on his head, the veins in his hands. you looked at him with so much need and desperation for him.

"i don't even know what i was dreaming about, but it wasn't because of you" your coryo was never one to crudely reply to you but today he was. you knew him well enough to know he was trying to hide something.

"you know what, just lay there i'm going to take care of this" he sighs and he starts removing more of the covers off of him. he slides off his boxers letting out his heavy dick and it flopped onto his stomach and he held it back up. he was so hard and he needed to relieve himself. your eyes widened at the sight of his cock. god you were practically drooling at his length.

you looked at his movements and heat started to rise on your cheeks. he saw the look on your face and explained his actions, "i have to, just don't watch" you couldn't believe it. he would jerk off and you couldn't watch?! what kind of bullshit is that?

"you're gonna do it now? right here??" you were in disbelief, trying to understand what was going on. you looked away pouting. he wasn't going to give you what you wanted and he was evil for that.

"yes i'm going to.. you were watching me earlier so why should you care if i touch myself right here” he knew you. he knew you liked what he was doing and that you wouldnt mind if he jerked off right beside you. he started stroking his pink tip and a string of moans came out of him. he sounded so good and you were so desperate for his touch.

he takes his hand off his cock and brings one up to your mouth “here spit in my hand” he demanded and you didn't think twice before spitting on it. "there you go baby" he lets out when you look him in the eye as you spat on his hand. he started using your spit to stroke his cock up and down. the sounds he let out was heavenly. it wasn't fair. if he could decide he could just masturbate next to you, whats stopping you?

you start to take the covers off of you, the cool air of the room hitting you and the heat coming from your body from being pent up was going away. you start sliding off your shorts and your panties. your legs spreading wide once they were off and you didn't hear a word from coryo and you pretended to not care. he was looking at you so intensely, eyeing your body, noticing your nipples poke out of your shirt.

you started touching your slick and playing with it in your hands to tease coryo. he could see how wet your cunt was as it glistened under the rays of the sun. he continued pumping his cock faster as he watched you.

"who said you can watch snow?" you said, not even looking at him once because you knew he was watching you. he directs your chin to make you look at him. you take a peek at his cock before looking at him in the eyes.

he connects your lips and he starts kissing you with so much passion and lust. the way he kissed you was intoxicating and you needed more. your chest was heaving slightly as you chased your breath, drowning in his kisses. he starts stroking your nipples under your shirt making you moan into him. he rolls the bud in between his fingers and the pleasure wasn't enough.

"touch me please corio" you pulled away from his kiss, desperate for him to fuck you. your mind was going hazy from his kisses and from him teasing you. coriolanus smiles softly at you. he lifts your chin gently, "beg for it" he said making sure to not touch you unless you obeyed his order.

his response was so unnecessarily hot but you weren't in the position to decline his order. so you obeyed like the good little girl you are.

"please corio i need you so fucking bad. touch me please."

coriolanus's eyes darkened with lust and desire at your desperate plea. he captured your lips in a fierce and passionate kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth, possessing and claiming you as his own. "you're such a good girl for me hm" he broke the kiss for a second to praise you. he can feel his restraint slipping as his need for you grows, consuming him entirely.

he pulls you closer, his body pressed tightly against yours. you could feel his cock between your bodies as he settled himself in between your legs, and his arms were by your side, encaging you. "my girl." he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "do you want me inside you bunny?" your heart races at his words, your desire reaching fever pitch. "yes please oh my god please" you desperately replied.

he moans softly at your words, his breath hitching in his throat. "look at you desperate for me to touch you like you weren't just making fun of me earlier. you wished i was thrusting into you hmm?" he asked loving the control you gave him by letting your desires get the best of you. truth was that he was thinking of you in his dreams. but he wasn't going to let you know that right now; not when he has you underneath him begging for him to touch you.

"i did, i saw how big you were and i couldn't stop thinking about you." you confessed, tired of him teasing you.

your response turned him on like no other and he decided to finally give you what you begged for. he trailed his fingers down your body, stopping once he finally reached your wetness. he groaned at the feeling, he stroked your pussy before grabbing his cock and teased your entrance with it; rubbing his tip with your slick before slipping in. you both moan at the feeling. your cunt enveloped his cock like a vice. god you drove him insane. he knew he was big so he slowly pushed all of himself inside, getting greedy at the feeling your cunt around him.

once all of him was inside, he gave you a moment to adjust to his size. your eyes were furrowed trying to regulate your breathing. "such a good girl for taking all of me," he hummed stroking your hair out of your face as he was on top of you. he then lowered himself to give you kisses on your neck and face. he was comforting you during this intimate moment. he was your best friend after all, he cared about you. you wrap your arms around his neck letting him cover you in his kisses. once you were ready, you caught his attention and gave him the nod of approval to starting moving within you.

he pulled out slowly and back in. he was hitting that spot that made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "fuck you feel so good baby" he continued with a faster pace and the pleasure was too good and you needed more of him.

"harder please corio" you whined, loving how he fucked you but you needed more.

"such a good slut f'me" he praised you as he picked up his pace and started to properly fuck you the way you wanted.

the room is filled with the wet and slapping noises as he thrusted hard and fast. "you take me so fucking well princess" he moaned out, absolutely drunk off the feeling of you around him.

it felt so good. your brain was hazy. the pleasure was all-consuming. his soft groans and grunts combined with his comments about how good your pussy felt and how good you were for him was driving you crazy. you clenched his cock every time he thrusted into you and called you a good slut. he found your pleasure spot so easily and was hitting it so many times.

"fuck! y-you're gonna make me cum please!" you moaned moving your hips against his.

"please what baby?" he teased, wanting you to beg for him to let you cum.

"p-please... l-let me cum! cum with me oh my god" you cried out, trying your best to hold back on cumming unless he gave you permission. you were such a good little slut for him.

"you want me to cum inside you huh bunny? a-ah fuck" he was surprised when you said to cum with him. he started fucking into you harder as he thought about filling you up with his seed.

"y-yes! cum inside me please! i need your c-cum" you shamelessly said, finding it hard to hold back your orgasm and desperate to have him fill your cunt. this drove coriolanus crazy so he decided to stop teasing you as he was nearing his peak too

"be a good girl and cum for me baby" he said thrusting into you even harder as he let you cum. you finally let go, clenching down on his cock so hard that it released his own orgasm.

he continued fucking into you as you both came down from the feeling. the sensation made both of you so sensitive. he stayed inside you as he let his cum coat your insides. he kissed your neck as you both try to catch your breath.

"mm fuck" you said breathlessly, fucked out from the activity. he chuckled at how tired you were. he looked at you and decided to be devious and move inside you. you were still sensitive from cumming but god he felt so good. "mm no corio.. 'm too sensitive" you said softly, brain mushy from how he just fucked you but you didnt want him to stop.

"does it feel good baby?" he asked still rutting inside of you, loving the way your cock drunk right now.

"yesss corio feels so good" you moaned out and it urged him to start fucking you again. god he has the stamina of a racehorse, maintaining a powerful and relentless pace so early in the day.

"you feel so good bunny" he moans, his voice almost a growl. "perfect and tight and mine." he lifts your hips slightly, changing the angle and increasing the pace even more. his possession over you showing.

the new angle hits the spot and your grip on his shoulder is tighter, he knows how to make you feel good on your first time and it surprises you. your brain still hazy and you let out a string of moans at the new angle and he knows he's hit the spot so he continues to thrust harder and faster, aiming at that same spot each time. "there you go baby" he grunts, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"you're my perfect slut" he lets out. the way he calls you his makes you wet like nothing before. you didn't know it would have such an effect but you don't think too hard about it for now, focused on how good his cock is making you feel.

"you're taking me so well" he groans, his voice thick with desire. "so tight and perfect for me" he could tell you were nearing your orgasm again. it didn't take long as you were already sensitive from earlier.

"let go for me bunny," he commands, his voice low and husky. "come for your best friend." his thrusts become more erratic as he nears his own release, but he refuses to give in until you cum.

he makes you cum on his cock again and leaves you way more fucked out than earlier. coriolanus moans as he feels you tighten around him again and he can't hold back any longer. with a final, deep thrust, he finds his own release. "you did so good baby" he praises

you laid in his arms tired and overstimulated. "thank you corio" you mumbled out trying to ground yourself.

your fucked out state was absolutely adorable to your best friend. coriolanus gazes down at you, his eyes filled with love and adoration. he gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch soft and tender.

he holds back on saying anything that might jeopardize your friendship so he presses a gentle kiss on your forehead and pulls you close, holding you tightly in his arms.

you finally come out of the dazed out state you were in and reality hits you. your best friend just made you cum twice and he came inside you twice. you know there's going to be a talk about this but you want to savor the moment.

so you kept your head on his chest loving the feeling of how tight your best friend is holding you.

[buttercupblu]

Studying with Choso🌱🫧🌷

Student!Choso x Reader|One-Shot

the deets: Poor Cho - he's been best friends with books and binders for weeks on end with little to no time for his favorite subject; You 🥺. With his finals just around the corner, his cram sessions are in full swing... and affections absent. So, being the angel that you are, you decide to give him a helping hand. w.c: 3.8k tags: fem!reader, fem!top/switch (kinda), teasing, nipple play, breath play, choking, handjob, praise, pet names, Ph.D student Choso|mention of: rough penetration, bruising, throat fucking, 18+ MDNI angel's note: what began as a daydream turned into my 1st (completed) JJK fanfic - go crazy, go stupid|don't talk to me about the latest spoilers ... pls 🥲

Sigh.

He’s been at it for hours now. 

The clock ticking against the silence in the room made that obnoxiously apparent. 

Hums of Lofi coming from the living room is your only saving grace. The peace and tranquility he needs to concentrate starkly contrasts the infectious heat growing in your lower body. 

Nibbling on your nails proves meek, as your thighs, acting as hand warmers, begin to ache. You couldn’t help but palm your pussy while trying to resist the urge to interrupt Choso’s study session.

Again.

Your cunny kept speaking to you with a raging heartbeat. Begging you to march in there and demand attention as he’d been home for hours with little to no sprinkles of affection. 

You groan, burying your face into your pillow. 

“Baaabe,” you call out, a pout forming on your lips. 

As much as you wanted to quell your growing pains, you knew this was a really important exam for Choso - one of his last hurdles before wrapping up his Ph.D program. Knowing how much it meant to Choso, you feel a twinge of guilt. 

Your little man was on his way to wearing white lab coats and curing diseases, saving lives one cure at a time. A faint smile finds your face thinking about it. You could see him clearly, donning goggles and blue gloves; his signature spiky buns (adding to the charm) are truly adorable. His little face is a picture of concentration, completely absorbed in his work while taking measurements and recording data; you could almost hear the sound of his pen scratching on the notepad. 

The image of him so absorbed in his work is both charming and impressive; it always makes your heart flutter.

You just knew that those bitches he’s going to be working with better watch themselves. 

Choso in that element alone was enough to make you fold; you could only imagine working so closely with him for multiple hours and taking more than your fair share of quick glances—clenching your thighs to steady your desires to have him bend you over the metal table just to feel the coolness against your nipples. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” Choso whines back. It breaks you out of your jealousy-filled fantasy. Yet, you find your fingertips damp from the arousal between your legs. “I just need a bit more time.” You hear the fatigue in his voice. Knowing your love is so tired and hard at work breaks your heart. 

But that’s all he’s been doing as of late, and you felt as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages. Between his hours-long sessions at the lab and catching up on sleep, you barely had time to cuddle at bedtime. You missed his warmth, his strong arms instinctively bringing you closer to him as he slept. The way your bodies formed a perfect C as he kissed into your neck.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And you are surely suffering at the moment. 

The multiple attempts to dissuade his attention from his books were fruitless. 

Casual walk-bys in his favorite silky shorts of yours, the ones that hug above your plump undercuff, went unnoticed. You were sure he could feel the wind against his face as you swished by, making sure your cheeks lingered in his air for a second or two. 

He paid it no mind.. 

It wasn't until you stopped dead in front of him that he finally turned his attention to you, pausing to follow his wandering eyes around the wavy rim of your shorts. The design stretched around your plush thighs creating an imprint on your body, marking your velvety skin. Your arms crossed firmly on your chest push your tits into full view; the accompanying pout on your face made his dick jump.

He sighs, trailing his hands up your thighs to the small of your back, and pulls you in between his legs. A deep breath follows as he inhales your rosy scent, savoring the fragrance he wishes he could bottle and horde.

His chin rests on your lower belly as he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “An hour. I promise.”

He peers over the rim of his reading glasses, looking on with a furrowed brow and pouty lip, squeezing at your hips.

You couldn’t resist melting when he’s like this.

His eyes beg for patience, but his hands, wavering under the cuffs of your cheeks, say otherwise. A gentle squeeze on your inner thigh confirms it; you bite your lip at his firm grasp, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Fawk me. 

"Hmph.” you lower into his lap, perfectly molding your body against his. Resting your head on his shoulder, your hands find solace at the nape of his neck. He's so warm. His arms find home around your waist, a sensation that always makes you feel so secure, so small. So needy.

You rock into him, the smell of his hair drugging you as you try to be as close as possible, barely able to control the need to dry-hump him for relief. 

Oh, how his heavenly thighs would be a perfect candidate. 

“One hour? You promise, Cho?” your whine, coupled with the dampness of your shorts, incites a bulge between your thighs. The friction of which alone could get you off if you kept up the pace.

This doesn't go unnoticed of course, and it took all of Choso’s restraint to keep him from dragging your hips back and forth himself, letting you use him like a fucktoy against your clit.

Or better yet, take you like this. It would be so easy for him to snake his arms under your legs and prop you up to bounce on his dick. He was sure the chair was sturdy enough to handle him abusing you.

The thought was mind-numbingly irresistible. 

He tugs at his bottom lip, swallowing a moan and holding you a bit tighter.

“I promise.” pressing a kiss on your ear, his fingers float down your spine. You could stay like this for the rest of the night if it were up to you, but you knew his studies were critical. Besides, maybe your patience would come with a reward—a nice fat one. The one sitting neatly in his shorts, threatening to poke out from under you at the present moment. 

But that was almost an hour ago.

The hour he promised he would be done by. 

And lying in bed with your head hanging off of the side, picturing Choso ramming his dick down your throat, certainly wasn’t helping the throbbing in your core. You pull your hand from your shorts, marveling at the webs between your fingers. Frowning immediately after.

Fine. If he wouldn’t come to you…

You huff, sitting up to head to the living room only to be met with Choso’s back turned to you—his head buried in papers and woe. A mischievous grin plays on your face as you tiptoe behind him.

Your arms wrap lovingly around his neck and drift down his chest. He jumps a little, feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt. Your icy hands slip underneath and palm his chest before he can argue. 

“You keep it so cold in here, Cho,” you nuzzle into his neck, “How am I supposed to stay warm?” 

Your hands snake around his torso until they brush his pink nips. The rhythmic beat of his heart picks up against your fingers. A slight tug elicits a groan from his lips. “Babe,” he winces, “What are you doing?”

You giggle, twirling them between your fingers before pulling out to caress his scalp—a certified soft spot of his and your favorite place to play.

To help him concentrate, of course. 

You tumble through his brunette locks like gentle waves. It’s almost comical how easily his head falls back against your breasts. The sensation mixed with exhaustion turns him into putty in your hands. You gaze lovingly at his bliss-ridden face and softly closed eyes. Slow, shallow breaths escape his rosy lips as if he’s lost in a peaceful dream.

His naturally dark under-eyes show signs of how busy he’s been. anyone else would assume the purple hue came from sleep deprivation (partially true), but you loved how the blush features coveted his face. To you, they only enhance his already striking features, making him all the more breathtakingly beautiful.

Even without an impossible schedule on top of it.

You were enamored with his unwavering commitment to his ambitions, aspirations, and most importantly, you. It was impressive seeing how he seamlessly balanced his pursuit of success and his affection for you, always making time for meaningful moments together. On top of caring for his younger brother Yuji, the cutest little manic dumpling in existence, you couldn’t help but awe at his ability to juggle everything and still find a way to make you feel cherished.

The thought of it all sends butterflies from your tummy to your toes.

His exposed neck begs for attention. You lean, brushing your soft lips against the skin. Careful to ghost over his collarbone, sending trimmers to his ears. The temptation to swipe his earlobe with your tongue flashes through your mind, a feat you know would send his dick through his pants. 

Instead, you slowly wrap your hand around his jaw, pulling his head back further. His eyes lock on your playful smile; his stunned face makes you nuzzle your thighs together. 

“Y/N-” he starts but your lips silence the protest. He melts into your hand feeling your tongue dip into his mouth. His feeble attempt to object fleets like seconds on a clock. 

Mint chocolate fills your mouth tasting the sweet treats he nibbles on to get him through the night. You couldn't stand the taste of chocolate-flavored toothpaste, but you would swallow a barrel full just to sample it from the lips that always took your breath away.

Quelled by your touch, Choso softens in his seat. How could he resist? Your tongue was nectar on any given day, and he was your hummingbird. 

Your hands travel down his chest, lingering on his waist and treasured v-section. Something he worked on sculpting 2 to 3 times a week, though you swore it came naturally. A waist this slutty simply could not be built in a gym. It was your favorite playground on nights when you could not resist the urge to sink your teeth into flesh.

Followed by whines from Choso.

And your knees shaking and shoved against your chest for tempting him.

You pause before his delectable thighs, capturing an involuntary mew when you glide over them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m such a slut—battling between needing to study and needing your touch. 

What began as mischief morphs into something brilliant, feeling your boyfriend writhe in his chair.

Pulling away from his pillowy lips, a smile forms on yours. He looks on, dazed, almost upset that you stole away.

“Cho..,” you breathe, “What is the central dogma of molecular biology?” His eyes pop open. Your fingers on his thigh slow. You hold a lustful stare, watching his mind search for the answers. 

“Um, the flow of genetic information within a biological system?”

You nod happily, resuming your strokes. His lips twitch in response. 

“What isss… the role of CRISPR-Cas9 in genome editing?” You inch closer to his inner thigh. His eyes flash to your hand.

“Aht aht,” tilting his chin, “Look at me when you answer.” Your fingers press deeper into his jaw, the result of which makes his dick strain against his shorts and stretch the fabric. Pulsing thumps vibrate through your other hand when you cup his length to still him. 

Heat finds your face as you palm the growing tent. The boy had been blessed with a toe-curling gift that shot stars into your eyes every time it sank into your core. Your dainty little hands paled in comparison to the massive limb - it was a wonder how he ever managed to fit inside you - let alone between your fingers. 

Yet, you still managed to take him so well, he thought. Stretching around him with ease, bringing curses to his mouth every time he bottomed out. Always so wet and ready for him at the simplest touch. It was more like your pussy always craved the challenge, sucking and swallowing him like a pure essence. 

“Cho.”

The words catch in his throat. “It-it’s a genome editing tool that comes from bacterial immune systems,” he wets his lips, clenching his fingers, “It uses a.. guide RNA to target specific DNA sequences and Cas9 enzyme to introduce precise changes, like a um, gene knockout or uh….insertion, in various organisms.” 

“Good boy,” you coo, pressing a plush kiss onto his lips again. He blushes red at the sound of praise. The words stimulating a part of his brain that makes him docile and dumb.

Raking nails and plump lips battle for his attention. He feels breathless at your touch. You barely had time to kiss each other before starting your mornings. And now, here you were, toying with him like a trinket.

The questions come with ease, a result of genuine curiosity and random peeks over his shoulder during long nights of cramming.

Difficulty increases as you rattle them off. The look of astonishment on Choso’s face says he didn’t know that you had been paying such close attention. You were no stranger to flashcards and practice quizzes yourself, having become accustomed to them during your undergrad studies. And though those four years may have driven you close to insanity, the habits proved permanent. And were being put to good use on your overworked boyfriend.

“Mmmm,” a thumb dances along the rim of his shorts, “What kind of stem cell research uses Patient-derived iPSCs?”

His brows furrow feeling the elastic stretch around his waist, “Umm, regenerative medicine, no, disease modeling and drug discovery.” skimming his hips sets his nerves on fire. A quick pop of the waistband sends him into outer space. The look of defeat is adorable, his glasses fogging a little. 

He was so cute, so easily coaxed into trembles from the slightest touch. 

You chuckle, nodding, “And if they can model human diseases, then?”

Searching for the solution sends him into a panic. His mouth gapes, but your fingers do not waver, pressing between his thighs, patiently awaiting his answer.

You can tell he’s overthinking it, second-guessing even. My poor baby, you think. Your eyes soften watching him. A gentle expression that reminds him why he tries at all.

With a soft tug of your thumb on his bottom lip, the answer is clear. 

 “...They can be used to help researchers save lives”.

The simplest answer is most often the best.

You smile, “Correct.” In one swoop, his shorts fall just enough to allow his dick to spring out. It slaps against his stomach, thumping against the cool air. A slick of arousal glistens from the head down to the shaft. You fixate on the lip-licking sight, hungry for a taste.

Choso’s hazy eyes are a close second; his struggle to keep them open is noticeably appetizing. The devil may be the most beautiful fallen angel, but it’d be a run for his money if Choso had wings.  

Your hands are careful to tease his length, lightly drawing long lines and circles. Pressing your fingertips into him on correct answers, slowing when he hesitates. Pure agony wouldn’t come close to describing the restraint Choso is using to keep himself grounded. 

Oh, how easy it would be for him to take you into his lap and fuck you senseless for being such a tease. To wrap his arms around your waist and bully you down onto his cock until you both gushed and mewed.

Truthfully, he was spurred on by your newfound dominance—each thump of his dick attesting to the ache and self-control he’s sustained over days of rigorous scheduling.

Tension had been building for weeks. Every encounter was filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. Brushing fingertips as you left in the morning. Sleepy hugs, that could’ve lasted longer, at the end of the day. The air was thick with a mix of desire and frustration as repressed affection hung heavy in the space between you. Every moment was a delicate balance of longing and limits.

You never considered taking matters into your own hands, literally. 

Choso was so lost in the sauce that you thought it would be cruel. 

But the way he folded under you like origami awakened something inside of you. Like fire to a flame, this newfound desire to take what you wanted was exhilarating. “Are you still with me, Cho-baby?”. 

Choso has always been known for his exceptional memory. Whether it was recalling a complex molecular chain in the lab or remembering your favorite order at all the eateries in town, he never had any issues with recollection.

But now, he was sure he would forget his own name if you asked him. His short-circuiting brain grew increasingly useless against your skilled hands. “Hmph,” pulling your bottom lip with your teeth, “No?”

Grazing his mushroom tip turns his words to mush. His stringy pre-cum is a delicious lubricant for the circles you draw. "Mmm," you moan, imagining sucking it down your throat.

With a gentle press, it spills over your thumbs, soaking your hand and eliciting another stifled moan from Choso. You grin. It’s music to your ears and hell on your soaked panties, fueling a primal hunger that intensifies with every gasp and tremble. 

Your throbbing cunt is an undeniable testament. Cursed with an insatiable need to be sopping and full.

It’s impossible for Choso not to arch into your hand, betraying his own body for more of your cunning touch—seeking more of the intoxicating pleasure only you can provide. Resisting was foolish—if you were a drug, Choso was an addict.

“Oh?” transfixing on his soft grind, “Does that feel good, Cho?” he blushes beet red, this time looking away, but you’re quick to bring him back, steadying his jaw between your fingers and instructing him not to move.

Fuck. He could cum just from the look on your pretty face towering over him, stern and seductive. “Answer me baby, use your words.”  

His lungs feel cloudy as you wrap your hand around his length, his mouth falling open in tandem as you stroke up and down his length with ease, increasing pressure from the base to the tip as if trying to coax the words out of him. How you wish you could straddle him and do the same with your pussy—use the desk for leverage and ride him into oblivion until you milked him dry.

His breath matches the rhythm of your strokes in a needy way, sending waves of electricity from your chest to your toes. You can't help but press your breasts closer, cradling his head between your pillows like a second home. “Does. This. Feel. Good?”

He swallows, “s-so good… so. fucking. good,” it drags out of him.

It was a sultry vice grip, swallowing him with your stroke, stealing his breath. His last cling to sanity was his grasp on the seat of the chair, almost turning his knuckles pale white.

Despite being the giver and not the receiver, your own arousal equally intensifies with each desperate moan, shudder, and gasp that escapes his lips—the wetness between your thighs becomes almost unbearable. Every sound consumes rational thought, only leaving a craving for more.

Forgetting your impromptu questionnaire, you decide you’d like to see how long he can go like this, having been days since your last quickie in the kitchen, hips roughly pushed into the counter as he fucked into you. The sight of you reaching into the fridge, exposing your pretty panties, brought on the occasion. And suddenly you were very familiar with the cabinets as he spread you open for a taste. You wore the bruises for days like a badge of honor for taking him as long as you did.

But now, as you rolled your thumb over his supple slit, you were sure he could come undone in a matter of seconds.

He groans feeling you suddenly lick and nip at his earlobe, your devilish thoughts from earlier coming true. You kiss heat into him, twisting your hand up and down; he twitches with every pump, ears growing hot. "Aww baby," you purr, listening to the wet sloshes of your hand. 

You bite the inside of your lip feeling your throbbing clit match the raging heartbeat in his dick. You'd slip your fingers into your soppy pussy and curl them until you came if they weren't so occupied with holding Choso's eyes on you. "You've been working so hard," you whine, "Are you gonna cum for me, Cho?" dipping down now and then to caress his balls, the squelching sounds battle for dominance over the serene Lofi beat. His only response being whimpers and a slight head nod lets you know that he’s close.

Your other hand slides down from his jaw to his throat, locking with a light squeeze. “Mmmph,” the restriction drives him closer, beginning to mindlessly pump himself into your hand. You squeeze at the base as if to milk him of all his worries. “I’m gonna…” 

“You’re gonna what?” your pressure increases on his neck, matching the growing knot in his stomach. His face flushes, but you wait for his tell. He fucks into your hand, following a string of silent curses, when you see it, that familiar thigh twitch.

His mouth falls wide open, sucking in air, “F-fuck i-i'm cu-” you shove your tongue down his throat making sure he tastes you completely, stealing the air from his lungs as he cums. His hand entangles in your hair, the orgasm cracking like lightning through him as his seed spills over your fingers, shuddering from his hips down. 

But you don't stop—continuing to pump, making sure to milk out every last drop. His pulsing dick provides a steady stream of hot spurts until his thrusts turn sloppy and his abs begin to ache. Your sloppy kiss silences his guttural moans until his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Finally, you pull away, a string of slick connecting your tongues, letting him breathe. The cool air soothes his heavy pants and heaving chest. You watch his spent face, his eyes following your fingers to your mouth as you lick them clean. The act stimulates his softening dick, adding a final spurt to the mess you’ve created on his lap.

You giggle, removing his glasses and setting them aside to plant a kiss on his forehead and blushing scar. A familiar ring chimes through the air. The sound you had become accustomed to on early mornings that started your day.

Hmm, he really was keeping up with the time, you think. 

You lean down, smiling against his cheek, “Looks like your hour is up, babe.” You rub his surely sore neck and peck it.

His hand, still grasping your hair, catches you before you can pull away. Your eyes widened at the sudden shift. You gasp when he pulls you back, meeting his gaze as his lips curl into a sinful smile—watching his dick slowly thump back to life from the corner of your eye. He leans closer and whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and dry but very, very clear.

“Yours is just starting.”

art credit: mu_kmijj on twitter

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter eleven

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): fighting, mentions blood, more angst lol

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The three of you sit in varying states of unrest beside Ron's hospital bed.

Hermione was still gripping his hand, as if her touch would entice him to wake up; Ginny was throwing a ball against the nearest wall as she quietly chatted to Mione, ignoring the glares of annoyance from the matron every time her ball made a thwack sound against the stone; you were sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a copy of 'Mythical Lore' in your lap, your eyes darting to and from Ron's chest to check that he was still breathing. Harry was Merlin knows where, but you knew he'd be back soon, never willing to leave his friends in distress for too long.

It had been like this for hours. Your tears had dried up and your anger had simmered away slowly; all that was left was the hollow feeling of helplessness and despair as you sat there.

Helpless against the poison that was slowly leaving Ron's bloodstream.

Helpless against forces that harmed your friends.

Helpless to whatever was happening to you.

A monster is what you were. A mythical, dangerous monster. Your gut churned with unease.

The somewhat peaceful atmosphere was interrupted as the doors to the Hospital Wing behind you burst open in a flurry that alerted Madame Pomfrey instantly.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said to whoever had appeared in the doorway. You swivelled in your seat to see, noting Ginny's incredulous look and Hermione's annoyed one, which could only mean one thing.

"Where is my Won-Won?" the squeaky voice of Lavender Brown sliced through the calm. "Cormac McClaggen told me he was here but I didn't believe him."

Madame Pomfrey tutted at her dramatics and pointed the girl in the direction of where you were all sat. You tensed at the blazing heat simmering in Lavender's eyes as she looked between Hermione's hand in Ron's.

"Y'alright Brown?" you say with a grimaced smile, discontent with the fact that you knew the other two wouldn't dare to speak. "Ron's been out for a few hours. Should be cognisant properly in a week's time."

Apparently you'd taken to snarky remarks to cover up your terror at the fact that he had not so much as stirred from his dreamless sleep. She turns to you then, her features betraying how worried she was for her boyfriend, but she had let jealousy rear its ugly head.

"And what is she doing here?" she hisses, pointedly looking at Hermione as you and Ginny share bewildered looks.

"Well-" you say, awkwardly glancing between the girls, "Well they're friends aren't they?"

"Yes well, you're friends with Theodore Nott, but it's so obvious that you're fucking each other behind closed doors." she snaps and you gape at her in disbelief. "Forgive me if I don't think that Granger's intentions are any less pure."

"I am not fucking Theodore." you jibe, throwing a whithering glare at Ginny who had let out a loud snort at Lavender's self assured statement.

"I've been friends with him for longer than he knew of your existence." Mione snapped, not letting go of Ron's hand, scowling as Lavender lets out a catty laugh.

"You're joking right? The two of you haven't had a civil conversation in weeks. But I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting." she says shrilly and its Ginny who whirls on her this time.

"You call being poisoned interesting? Are you that dim?" she questions and Lavender's resolve jostles only slightly.

Suddenly, Ron's features contort in discontent.

"Oh look at that." Lavender says smugly, eyes flicking to Hermione's grimacing face. "He senses my presence."

You yelp as she practically shoves you away from where you are sat, leaning over to peak at her boyfriend's face as it twitches with his dreams. He begins to mumble something that you can't make out and Lavender begins to encourage him to speak up, as if he'd be able to hear her.

You just stare at the back of the girl's head in annoyance until she staggers away, mouth agape with shock. You're confused until you hear it for yourself.

"Her- Mione. Mione. Mione." he chants her name like a siren's song.

Hermione smiles gently and her thumbs caresses his hand softly as he continues to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Lavender lets out a broken exhale and promptly flees the ward. You pity her in that moment. Not even the most incorrigible of people deserve that kind of betrayal.

The three of you are silent as you watch Ron. But he's sound asleep again. Still, as if it had been a combined figment of your imaginations. You stand to make the matron aware of this development, playfully shoving Ginny away as she taunts you.

"I can't believe she thought you and Nott are fucking." she laughed. "Unbelievable."

"Shut up." you berate her and she lets out a giggle before replying in a barely hidden whisper.

"Wrong Slytherin Prince, right?"

She smirks as you throw up a middle finger towards her as you reach the matron's office on the other end of the Hospital Wing.

~∞~

Somehow you've mastered the accute art of stealth.

In the week that has passed, you have managed to drift through the castle halls without so much as crossing paths with any of the Slytherin group. Partly due to the fact that you spent your time in the Hospital Wing with a near-cognisant Ron, in classes or in your dorm. You didn't dare go to the Room of Requirement or the library and you were eternally grateful that it was not your week to do the nightly Patrols.

Ancient Runes proved to be a difficult feat, but you somehow coerced a fellow Ravenclaw to switch seats with you in exchange for completing the next essay so that they could focus on training for the quidditch match at the end of the week. Under normal circumstances you would've abhorred the idea of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You could feel his eyes practically burning holes to the back of your head in all your shared classes, and you felt him in the corridors, but you didn't dare give in. You didn't want to see him. Couldn't bare to face him.

Mattheo was restless and agitated. All week long you wouldn't so much as look at him, let alone deign to spend an ounce of time with him. He was worried.

When you slammed the common room door in his face a week ago, he had reluctantly confessed to his friends about what the two of you had discovered; each of his friends were wholly willing to help him find a way to help you, if only he could tell you the good news.

And he'd tried. He'd reached over the tether that had connected your mind to his, but each time he was met with an offensive wall of dark stone. You'd blocked him out completely, and he would've been impressed if he wasn't so desperate to hear your voice.

Now he knows how you must've felt all those weeks ago, but it's different now. Now there are feelings involved. Now he doesn't know how to cope without your snark and sarcasm.

When he found Jeremy Stretton sat in your seat in Ancient Runes he found his reigned in emotions snapping. Especially when he saw that you were sat in the front, happily chatting away to Hermione and one of the Patil twins, waiting for Professor Babbling to turn up. He doesn't know why the sight of the Chaser makes his blood boil.

Mattheo slammed his hands onto the desk, bringing his face level with Stretton's, who had looks up in startled alarm. Mattheo was seething, and he didn't particularly care that everyone was beginning to peer curiously at the scene that was beginning to unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing at my table, Stretton?" he snarled, eyes narrowing as his hands tightened around the lip of the desk.

To his credit, Jeremy shook off his stupor and looked at Mattheo obstinately.

"I'm sitting in my seat, Riddle. Problem?" the Ravenclaw chaser replied, challenge flaring in his oceanic eyes.

Mattheo's glare became venomous.

"That...is not...your seat." he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. He could see you standing up in his peripheral, looking as if your going to intervene, but Granger stops you with a hand to your shoulder, a look of incredulity on her face. "I suggest you move, before I move you myself."

"Well actually," Stretton says with a barely there smirk, "I think you'll find that it is my seat. I don't know why it's taken her so long to do so, but Meadow practically begged me to swap and I can only oblige to her wishes."

He sees red almost instantly and Stretton's shirt collar finds its way into the clenched fists of Mattheo's hands, his hot breath fanning over the Ravenclaw's smirking face. He now knows why fury coats his every being with a tiny detail that whispered to his consciousness. Stretton had taken you to the Yule Ball two years ago. This was a product of pure jealousy as well as rage.

"Oooh did I hit a nerve?" Stretton says. "What could dear, sweet Meadow possibly see in you, Riddle?"

Mattheo doesn't register the feeling of his fist untangling from the shirt collar, until he feels the soft cartilage of Stretton's nose breaking beneath bloodied knuckles. He can vaguely hear Theodore and Pansy telling him to stop, can barely hear the sounds of people jeering and gasping at the scene. But what he does hear is your blessed voice.

"Mattheo stop it." you say, and it's like the sound brushes away the feelings clouding all his senses. He lets go of Stretton, who flops to the floor unceremoniously, but he doesn't pay him another glance. Not when you're looking at him the way you are. With bewilderment and what he thinks is unease. His breathing is ragged as he steps towards you, but you step back.

"Are you insane?" you hiss at him and to his utter horror, you turn your gaze to the blubbering boy on the floor and kneel down to help him instead.

"Jeremy?" the way you say his name with a soft tone grates through him and he's about to step towards you again, when Theodore's firm hand on his chest stops him.

"Let it go. You've already caused quite the scene brother." his voice is a gentle caress to his ears and his graciously listens to Theo who sighs in relief, pushing Mattheo out of the door, ignoring the shouts of Professor Babbling, who had just entered the classroom.

~∞~

Wordlessly, you heal Jeremy's wounds as Professor Babbling meanders in, unaware of the turmoil that had occurred only moments ago. Jeremy was hissing and cursing as your magic washed over his skin.

"You can take your godsdamned seat back, Meadow." he spat. "It's so not worth getting another beating over."

You smile grimly at him, guilt clouding your eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, Jeremy."

"Not your fault, love." It's nearly impossible for you to hide the way the nickname makes you cringe. "Can't say I won't miss the opportunity for some extra quidditch practice though."

He bats your healing hands away as Professor Babbling stands above the two of you.

"What on Earth is going on?" she says, voice stern. "Does it have anything to do with why Masters Riddle and Nott are notably absent?"

Jeremy nods immediately at the same time that you freeze, not willing to give them up so easily. He stares at you incredulously. You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Uh, yes. Yeah." you say in a muted whisper. "But it's been sorted."

Jeremy throws you a look, which you adamantly ignore as you rise and go towards Pansy's table, taking Theo's empty seat. She doesn't so much as look your way, tense as you sit down. You close your eyes and sigh.

"Look I'm sorry that I've not spoken to you." you mumble without turning to face her.

"Ignored and neglected more like." she retorts in response. "I had no idea about Ron, Meadow. You have to believe me."

You reach over and squeeze her hand in your's. "I do believe you, Pans. I do. But it doesn't mean that the others didn't. And I-"

You're cut off by Professor Babbling's introduction to the lesson's topic, but the squeeze that Pansy's hand gives your's is all you need to know that you're both okay. And that's enough for now.

"For what it's worth," she mumbles almost imperceptibly. "You're doing an awfully good job of avoiding him. I've never seen Mattheo so ruffled."

Instead of satisfaction, that statement only brings you an aching sense of pain. And whether you do it unconsciously or not, you'll never admit, but your mental walls break down the smallest amount.

Enough for him to know that you're in as much agony as he is.

~∞~

As soon as Pansy leaves your side after you've walked out of Ancient Runes, Hermione is there immediately.

"Okay, what in Merlin's name happened in there?" she asks incredulously.

"We both know Riddle has a short fuse, Mione. It's not that abnormal to see." you retort and she gives you a disbelieving look.

"Maybe so, but it can't be just me that's noticed that he hasn't resorted in bloody fist fighting in months." Damn her and her brilliant observation skills. "And why was Stretton in your seat in the first place?"

"I asked to swap." you say with a shrug and when you don't give her the answer she's no doubt looking for, she pins you with a glare.

"You've been avoiding them all week. Parkinson, Nott and Riddle. You've spent more time with me, Ginny and Harry this week than you have all year."

"Tired of my presence already, Mione?" you say with the ghost of a smirk of your face. When she doesn't return your humour, you sigh. "I've been a little busy with visiting Ron. And maybe Harry's spiels have been getting to me."

"What?" she questions before lowering her voice. "You think they're Death Eaters?"

"I don't know what to think." you say. "But I can't talk to them. I won't."

"You spoke to Pansy, just fine earlier."

"She's not the one I'm avoiding."

A brief glance into her mind shows you that she thinks you're speaking about Theo. And while the thought of speaking to him after what he no doubt had a hand in helping orchestrate, seeing Mattheo, speaking to Mattheo, makes your heart want to drop right down to your stomach.

You can still feel the phantom of his power all this time later. Though that could just be you imagining it; you don't doubt that the brief feeling you got was exhilarating. It terrified you.

"Are you coming to see Ron after lunch?" Hermione asks as you part ways for your differing classes.

"Yeah. I'll find you in the Great Hall once I've finished Astronomy." you smile in farewell as she makes her way towards her Arithmancy lesson.

Your smile slips immediately as you turn the corner, because you find yourself trapped between a cold stone pillar, and his strong, muscled chest, his arms straining as they pin you to the hard structure. You don't look up to lock eyes, instead glaring intently at his loosened Slytherin tie.

"Hello, Princess." Mattheo spits menacingly. All he gets in response is a huff from you. "Still intent on avoiding me, are you?" he lets out a dark chuckle that sets your skin alight, and you can tell without looking that a sinister smirk paints his gorgeous face.

You feel as he sensually caresses your mind, and it has you keening into him.

Let me back in. His deep voice is demanding and assertive. At your blatent refusal he growls. Why won't you let me in?

I can't. You say back, your inner voice a mere whimper in comparison to his. He tilts his head down to look at you, chasing your eyes with his own. He can feel your fear and self hatred like it was highlighted in bold colours for all to see.

"What are you so afraid of, darling?" he asks out loud in a low and raspy tone that makes you melt. Your eyes shut on instinct, squeezing away the light until your dizzy.

"I'm going to be late for Astronomy." you say, deflecting and he scoffs, pushing you further into the wall.

"It's barely eleven o'clock. I'm sure you're not going to miss a change in star pattern any time soon."

"That's not even the point and you know it." you argue, trying in vain to evade his strong hold.

"Stop avoiding us. Stop avoiding me." he begs. "Do you know how insufferable Teddy has been?"

"What a horrible thing to say about your best friend." you retort halfheartedly. But Mattheo is only partially glad that you're returning his words with quips of sarcasm. He sighs.

"I don't blame you for what happened in my dorm, love." Unlike how you cringed away from Stretton, your heart sings at the nickname. "'S not your fault."

"I could've drained you to death, Théo." you say quietly, and his face heats at the shortened nickname. One that he had not heard in years, since the passing of Theodore's mother. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."

You're still evading his eye contact, so he lifts a hand from the wall and gently cradles your chin, moving your gaze to his; bloody knuckles contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.

"You're not a monster." he says resolutely, like he truely believes it. "You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, not to my friends, not to your friends, either."

Your brow furrows and your eyes line with unshed tears.

"I went to Dumbledore." you say and he stills. "After I left your common room. I went to him and he said I was a weapon. Because I can detect certain magical objects and people."

Mattheo's body lit up with fury again. You were not a weapon to be used and discarded. No, you were a person who did not belong on the frontlines of war.

"And what did you say to that?" he asks you, onyx eyes narrowed in anger that was not directed your way.

"I told him that I didn't know how to control it. That I wasn't interested in being fated to die." you say, and it feels good to talk about things you're too afraid to speak to your friends about. "I asked him to grant you all safety too."

At this, Mattheo's gaze snaps right to your own. Incredulity lacing his features. "Why would you do that?"

"He could see right through my shield." you defend yourself at his tone. "He refused anyhow. Said you had to ask for yourselves, and he knows that you won't."

He admired your ire for his friends. But he almost winces at the glare you send his way.

"You knew that he wouldn't help any of you no matter when or how I asked. Didn't you?" you couldn't believe him.

"You learn to expect nothing less from the people who expect nothing but bad intentions from you, sweetheart." he replied with a shrug. "Though I wish they'd help the others, no matter if they associate with me or not."

His face is dark as he lets you go. But you don't move away. Instead you tilt your head and stare up at him, eyes moving across his features: from his onyx eyes framed by gloriously long lashes; to the bridge of his nose, crooked from previous fights with a long scar stretching across the middle of it; to his perfect mouth that pouts slightly as he gazes down at you.

Keep looking at me like that and I'll take you in this very corridor. He snarls in your mind and you smirk.

Kinky. But I draw the line at exhibitionism. You pat at his hard, muscled chest and make to move away and run towards the class that you are no doubt now late for. But he stops you with a firm grip to your bicep and he spins you around to face him again.

"Tease." he mutters with his own smirk as he presses his lips to your's. It's as euphoric as the first time, and every time after that as his lips fight against your's, ultimately winning your miniature battle for dominance. You mewl into his mouth as his tongue brushes against your's, hands clawing at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he pushes you into the wall once more.

You're so lost in eachother that you don't hear them when they turn the corner. Ginny and Harry stop dead in their tracks as they stare at the two of you wide eyed. The former smirks at the thought of finally catching you out but it drops immediately when she turns to the boy beside her who is visibly fuming. And she can't steer him away fast enough to save you from his wrath.

"Shacking up with Death Eaters now, Meadow? I thought that was below you." the spitting sound of your best friend's voice breaks you from your daydream like state and you force yourself away from Mattheo's wondering mouth to gape at your two friends.

Ginny is sending you an apologetic look which you bypass in order to face the scathing eyes of Harry Potter.

"Harry-" you say, stepping out from where you're trapped between Mattheo and the wall, and you're so grateful that he doesn't keep you pinned there, instead he stands slightly infront of you, arms folded, a glare set on his face.

"Don't." Harry says, eying the way Riddle stands infront of you protectively. "All this time, I thought you were only tutoring him for Nott's sake. But, of course you just had to get in his bed, too."

The hand on his bicep is the only thing stopping Mattheo from launching at the boy.

"Watch it, Potter." he snaps, his position infront of you turning defensive.

Harry lets out an incredulous laugh; Ginny's attempts to persuade him to leave it alone, are ignored.

"I overheard you." he continues as if Mattheo had not spoken at all. "In Dumbledore's office. Begging him to help your friends."

You don't know what to say. Starstruck by his anger. But you understand why he's angry at you, and that ache burns ever brighter in your chest.

"The same friends who have tormented us, tormented you for years. How can you even ask such a thing?"

"They deserve to be helped just as much as the rest of us." you say at last, your voice quiet and on the verge of cracking with emotion. The lump in your throat gets bigger with every word you speak. "You know what it's like to grow up in an unwanted home Harry. You know that no one deserves that."

"That's not the point Meadow." he snaps and he visibly delights in the way you recoil at his words. "They're all Death Eaters. Working for his–" he points a steady finger to the boy stood beside you, "-father. Did you ever stop to think that they were buttering you up to take to him once they got wind of your powers."

You blanch at that and turn your gaze to Ginny. She gapes between the three of you and avoids Harry's eyes. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise you, Meadow." her resolute tone is the only thing grounding you to reality right now.

Harry shakes his head. "Dumbledore told me that you can siphon people's power as well as perform Occlimency. When were you going to tell us?" his anger gives way to betrayal as he looks you up and down. And the way he spits out the word 'siphon' tells you everything you need to know. He thinks you're a monster.

"I was going to tell the rest of you." you promise, not looking at Ginny again. "But only when I had a better grasp of it."

Harry scoffs and steps towards you. Rolling his eyes when Mattheo stands directly ahead of you.

"Back off Potter. If you know what's good for you."

The way his venomous lilt travels through you should make you ashamed, but it only sends sparks of arousal to your core.

Harry only looks at you from over Mattheo's shoulder, distain painting his pale face as he utters a heartbreaking sentence before he leaves, with Ginny following quickly behind him, with a silent promise to find you later and apologise for Harry's (entirely justifiable, you think) words.

"Don't go to see Ron later, and don't you dare seek us out again. I don't trust you, and I don't know if I ever will again."

Mattheo is onto you the second the pair depart, wrapping you in his arms as you collapse from the onslaught of emotion that crashes down on you.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? You say over and over and he does his best to comfort you, going as far as to sit against the wall, cold floor stinging against the fabric of his school trousers, cradling you into his chest.

It's okay. I'll fix it. I promise. Is all he can muster up in comfort as you crumble before his very eyes, sinking into his embrace.

~∞~

i love writing angst lol i hope you enjoyed this shortish chapter (lots of time skips im sorry)

the coming updates will probably be slow since i've gone back to uni - i have to complete three presentations and come up with a product idea and a lab report in like 5 weeks 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i've tried to fix it and i've reported the bug but i'm still incapable of editing pretty much all of my posts (not the serendipity masterlist post though, thankfully) and its getting quite frustrating now but we move 🫡

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

[car1y-quinn]

Wednesday: Enid shut up I’m trying to get some sleep!

Enid: I didn’t say anything!

Wednesday rolling over quickly: well then who keeps making that sound cause it isn’t me!

Enid’s eyes going wide: this place is fucking haunted! *throws blankets off and runs to Wednesday side of the bed* hold me!

Wednesday: hey hey hey! Who said you could sleep with me!?

——————-

Enid: and that’s how we found out Goody was still with us

Bianca: that doesn’t explain why Wednesday is holding onto you like your her lifeline

Enid: oh… Wednesday just loves to cuddle

Wednesday: no! It’s because you’re apparently repellent to that ghost witch and she’s been teasing me all day! I need some peace and quiet!

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule: Season 2 Prologue

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: happy halloween! 🎃

Masterlist Epilogue

"You'll open your stitches, Yoongi-ah," Kim Seokjin noted with a monotonous tone, his eyes still trained on the tablet he was holding when he heard a rustling of the sheets, the first ever sign that the man was truly alive. The mafia prince that turned medical director was sitting comfortably, his long leg over the other as though he had gotten a good night's sleep since the mayhem that happened. It was the eighth day since Yoongi was in a coma, and similarly, it was the eighth day since you passed.

Since then, numerous things transpired- and they were all of violent nature. The five of them shed volume of blood, more so by the youngest of them. It was too bad for the traitors that Jeon Jungkook was frustrated because he almost found his wife. She was almost within his grasp when he was urgently needed back in Korea because unshockingly, one of their brothers was trying to kill the other. And well, the organization needed cleansing of traitors.

Additionally, it was worse for the traitors because the moment he returned was the moment he found his sunshine gone.

Yoongi was physically healing, as evidenced by his vitals that Seokjin was diligently monitoring. It was expected. Yoongi was not likened to a cat for nothing. They all physically saw him fall from the third floor, stood up, and brushed his hands as though it was nothing when they were younger. There was not even an ounce of doubt in their minds that he would wake up one of these days.

That was the thing, Yoongi was healing. But now, Seokjin wondered what would happen once he knew what happened to you. 

He didn't have to wait long.

"W-where is she?" Yoongi asked with apparent effort, his hand clutching his shoulder with a barely restrained pain flashing on his face. "I need to go to her. She must be so scared," He sat up and waited for Seokjin to say something, anything.

And he waited, and waited- yet, Kim Seokjin didn't answer him. He merely regarded him with a somber expression on him, a foreign look on his usual jovial face. Jin's jaw was clenched, and he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Yoongi blinked, looking at the older man's eyes with quick realization. He couldn't have gotten any paler even if he wanted to, his eyes widened at what he already knew.

"No. Hyung, no. Fucking no," he shook his head, his movements quick as he pulled the dextrose harshly from his skin, blood now dripping on his hand. He stood up as he aimed for the door, every step he took was shaky, yet his determination to see you was strong. "Take me to her! Where is she!"

Jin tried as best as he could to contain the man, and that was how Kim Namjoon found them. He should have known, he was no match to a man who just lost the only person he ever loved. Namjoon immediately helped his hyung, securing Yoongi's other arm on his side. But the mafia leader was like a wounded animal, thrashing around as it tried to find reprieve. In this case, it was you who was his peace.

"Hyung, stop it! You're going to hurt yourself," Namjoon ordered as gently as he could, but it fell on deaf ears. Yoongi looked at Namjoon, his dark eyes filled with panic and unshed tears. He thought that maybe Namjoon would take him to you.

You were just hurt, right? You were just resting that was why his hyung couldn’t take him to you…right? You were somewhere here. He just needed to ask more, to impose more, and if needed, he just had to scream louder for you and you would come to him…right?

You were alive, right?!

"Namjoon-ah, where is my angel, hmm? Take me to her!" his voice were shaking as he fisted his hands on Namjoon’s shirt, trying to get the taller man to look at him, to listen to him. He was close to pleading, and he wasn’t above it.

Why were they quiet?

Why were they looking at him as though they pity him?

He wasn’t pitiful, he thought. He had you.

The two men shared a downcasted look. Both men didn't know how to tell him that you didn't survive, that not even your remains survived. But they had to.

"She didn't...survive."

Yoongi blinked, and the two of them were quiet as they waited with bated breath for his reaction. Yet, Yoongi just straightened up while chuckling. “Stop lying, Namjoon.”

“He’s not lying,” Jin stated before showing you the necklace he kept in his pocket…your necklace. “This was the only thing left in the scene. You’re the Chief of Police. You know what this means, Yoongi-ah.”

Yoongi smirked before marching to the door. “T-that’s not hers.”

“Hyung, where are you going?”

“To find her. She’s not dead. She’s not gone. S-She promised me she would never leave me. She never breaks her p-promise,” he struggled to say each word as his body had not yet fully recovered. His determination was commendable, but seeing him reduced to denying your death broke what was left of the brothers’ hearts. “Angel needs m-me. I cannot fail her. N-not this time.”

Yoongi’s body swayed to the side, yet he remained steadfast, walking to where he thought you were. And if he needed to crawl, then he would. If he needed to kneel just to see you, then he would be down on his fucking knees, begging for your forgiveness.

His body failed him the moment he opened the door, his barely-recovered form crashing on the ground that Jin had no choice but to contain the thrashing man the best way he could. With a small prick on his neck, Min Yoongi lost consciousness.

The last thing he called for was you.

Even in his dreams, you never came.

Chapter I

[kaiso-woo]

A Fan of the Fiction

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Masterlist

BONUS #3 - This has connections to ‘Stay Series’! Let’s just say… ‘I don’t want to go to sleep now, I’ll be making a masterpiece now”… by which I mean the creation of Bahng Alexander Korain.

!Minors - istg, do not interact. Go away!

WC: 2.3k

Synopsis: Uh. You read smth unholy for the first time in a while, and holy guacamole you can actually fulfil this fic because your husband is legit Chris? Haha…

Notes: SMUT, Thigh Grinding, Multiple Orgasms, p in v - dear lord (don’t be an idiot, wrap it ffs), breeding (with results obviously T-T), Choking, Bulge… kink?, Degradation…? Dom-Sub-Switch-Who-What-When-Where-Why, Oral (F Receiving), Traffic Light System, Fluff?, Second Person Narration, Swearing, Idol!Chan, Fem!Reader

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

BONUS #3

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

--

You drop your phone down onto your chest, breathing heavily, your mind whizzing with sin. Tentatively, you sneak a hand into your pants and tap at your underwear, retracting it immediately with a groan when you realise how soaked you are.

You shouldn’t have read that fic. You shouldn’t have at all. All it did was place dirty thoughts in your mind because, you realise, you could recreate that scene right here, right now.

Chris is currently sitting on your bed in another room, working away on a song. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen after he cooked dinner, and upon seeing him busy at work, decided to lie down on the couch and give him some peace.

Somehow, you had wandered onto Tumblr for the first time in years and you had forgotten just how atrocious your feed was. With a nervous bite of your lip, and a check to make sure that Chris was still in your room, you thread your hands back below your waistband and rub a slow line up your folds.

“Fuck,” you whisper, as you pulse around nothing, “Shit okay, am I doing this? Am I going to?” You say this even as you get off the couch and wander over to your room, where the only things illuminating the place is Chris’ computer, reflected eerily onto his face, and his bedside lamp.

“Chris…?” You squeak, words beginning to fail you already, “How busy are you honey?”

Chris looks up and rubs his eyes, peering at your cowering figure over by the door. “Relatively busy, why? You okay? Need me to do something?”

You swallow nervously and walk over, suffering even further at the sight of his dark eyes watching your every move. “No… no it’s okay, you just… stay there,” you breathe, hesitantly stripping yourself of your shorts and crawling onto the bed. “Yeobo…?” Chris asks, his voice dry.

“You can keep working babe, do you mind if I just… ride your thigh? Please?” You beg staring at him with wide eyes. Chris inhales sharply and his eyes flicker away from you. He blinks, in a daze, at his computer screen, and when he doesn’t reply you prompt him again. “Please baby? I need-”

He interrupts with a breathy “Yeah, yeah of course”, and shifts his computer to rest on one knee. Relief washes over you, and you crawl onto his lap, immediately beginning to grind into his thigh.

Chris breathes deeply and returns to his laptop, clicking here and there and apparently refocusing on his work. A sultry groan leaves your mouth as you slow the pace, but make your grinds longer, and Chris curses under his breath.

“I want more…” you moan and remove yourself from him to take off your underwear, “Keep working baby, please don’t let me distract you.”

Immediately, the friction of Chris’ jeans on your clit makes you whimper, and your pace quickens, your juices beginning to drench the fabric.

Chris’ thigh flexes underneath you, and you gasp at the action, your mind half wondering whether he’s doing it involuntarily or not, but too far gone already to properly consider it.

“Shit baby, how am I supposed to-” Chris chokes out, and you look down at him for the first time in a while. He’s not looking at his computer anymore but is fixating on your pussy grinding desperately on his thigh.

“How's it feel baby?” He whispers, glancing at you through his eyelashes. You whimper and grab his shoulders, his computer sliding off his knee sadly. Chris’ hands sneak around your waist, and as he helps to guide you and the slightly new angle works its wonders, you feel that knot beginning to pool tightly.

“Chris-” you groan, mouth hanging open in pleasure. “You like it, huh? Look how easy it is for you to get off on my thigh, baby. Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

Chris has purposefully slowed your movements, returning you back to the long hard grazes, and his irises have blown out with desire. “Baby, Christopher, harder- please I need more-” you choke out, nails digging into his shoulders, and Chris’ head falls back in pure bliss.

“Jesus fuck. Are you gonna cum for me sweetheart? Cum all over my thigh?” You nod eagerly and he tilts his head questioningly, hands squeezing your hips sharply. “Words baby. I need to hear you. Speak for me.”

“Yes Chris… yes I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, I’ll cum for you baby.” “Fff-huck,” he moans, pushing you down harder and flexing his thigh at random intervals. You lean down to kiss him, tongues immediately swirling, your pants mixing with his deepening breaths.

“Shit I’m gonna-” “Come on baby. Come on. Ruin your pussy on my favourite jeans, hm?” “Chris- Chris Chri-”

You convulse on his leg and your forehead crashes into his shoulder as your orgasm washes through you, cum leaking out everywhere and thoroughly soaking his jeans. “God you’re so good for me.” Chris gently pushes you off him and stares in awe at the stain you’ve left, but his attention returns to you soon enough.

“You can handle more right?” He asks, sitting up on his knees so he can hastily remove his soaked jeans. You laugh and shift over to help him, smiling at his hasty actions and flushed face.

“Of course I can. Who do you think I am?” “Mine,” he grins back, and at his words you push him back into a seated position, much to his surprise.

“Sure honey, but you’re also mine.” Steadily, you sink down onto him, eyes rolling to the back of your head at how quickly he fills you. “Sh-shit. How’re you still so-” he stutters, hands flying to your waist again, “You’re still so fucking ti-ight.”

You groan and grind down onto him, and he hisses at the action. “Come on darling, don’t play. You either ride me, or I’ll fuck you into the bed.”

You take a shuddering breath and start the agonising journey towards heaven, or maybe it’s hell, watching in satisfaction as Chris unravels beneath you, his hips thrusting up to meet yours erratically, chest rising and falling unevenly.

“Just like that baby- god you’re al-always so tight for me. So perfect,” he groans, and you clench around him at his words, a string of profanities escaping his mouth.

“Shit. Love if you keep doing that I’m not going to- I'm not going to last long,” he groans. You lean down and tenderly brush the hair off his sweaty forehead so you can plant a kiss there, still unrelenting with your pace. “It’s okay baby, come undone for me. I never said you had to last long.”

His head falls back and smacks against the headboard, but the impact apparently doesn’t bother him. “No- I need to- yeobo, I need to pull-” “It’s okay, I want it in me.”

Chris’ hips stutter to a slow stop, and you whine, trying to continue, but his hands tighten around your waist, preventing you from doing anything.

“You what?” He breathes, staring with wide eyes. “Fill me up. Please,” you beg, and his eyes cloud over.

“You want that huh? You want me to spill my seed in you? Soak your walls white? Does my baby want that? Does she want a fucking kid?” He growls, thrusting up into you harder, and you mewl at his sudden ferocity.

Eagerly, you try to reposition yourself so you can help him, and in a daze grapple at whatever you can to ground yourself. Your hand tightens around his throat so you can hoist yourself up better and Chris splutters as his cock twitches inside you, his hand flying to your wrist in a panic.

“Well fuck that’s new,” he rasps, after you remove your hand swiftly, scared. “Sorry- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“I said that’s new baby, not that I didn’t like it,” he glares, and with a gentle assertion and raised eyebrows, he drags your hand back to curl around his throat, cock twitching again as you squeeze a little tighter.

“I didn’t know you-” you begin, as he picks up his pace again, matching with you.

“Yeah? Well neither did I-” he chokes out, knuckles white on your wrist, holding your hand in place, “Shit. Fuck. Ah you bastard. That’s my girl- shit cum with me baby,” he cries in between gasps for air, and the sight of him struggling to breathe thanks to you causes that building heat to snap.

You collapse forward and bite desperately at his shoulder, trying to instinctively muffle your ludicrous sounds of pleasure. You can feel Chris ejaculating thoroughly into you, his warm semen flooding your insides while you milk him through his high, your own juices coating him.

When you pull away, you rub at his shoulder where you bit him apologetically, thumb carefully stroking his neck too to make sure he’s okay, but his eyes are wild, and it’s only after you refocus on yourself do you realise that he’s still hard, nestled safely inside of you.

“Oh wow… no way…” you chuckle in amazement, as Chris pins you down onto the bed a little haphazardly.

“Don’t you ever- fucking silence yourself,” he growls, thrusting roughly into you. You gasp at the overstimulation, walls clenching despite your writhing. You absolutely know everything is a mess down there, his cum mixing with yours down your legs and his.

“Now unless your colour changes, I’m going to fuck you until I make you scream. I’ll fuck you into the next week, you won’t be able to walk for days you fucking slut. What’s your colour?” He demands, thrusting harshly into you again.

“Green- it’s-” your voice dies in your throat as Chris slams into you, again and again, the tip of his cock finding its way back to all those places that make your insides feel gooey. You’re trembling underneath him, and when he pushes your legs up for better access, a drawn-out whimper escapes you.

“You want more of my cum in you sweetheart?” He whispers harshly, and you mumble incoherently in agreement, “Oh… you don’t know what you’re getting into. ” “I do. I do-”

Chris places hot kisses all down your leg, his adoring actions contradicting his relentless abuse of your cunt, his foul mouth.

“Do you really? Because I’m going to breed you baby. I’m going to pump you so full that you’ll be pregnant by the fucking end of this.” You whimper and grip desperately at the sheets in response, and Chris pays it every bit of attention.

“You want that, huh? Want me to fuck you with my fingers as well? Make sure it stays in? Look at yourself, darling. Look at your stomach,” he commands, and with a gulp you look down to see his bulge disappearing in and out of your gut.

“Shit- Chris- you’re so- you’re so deep fuck- I’m gonna-” “I didn’t say you could,” he growls, nipping slightly at your skin. “Chris- but I- please.” “Beg harder,” he demands and you break.

“You’re a fucking shit,” you snap. “Only for you~” he coos, and it’s this that reminds you that he’s still the teasing Chris, still the same sweet man who wanted to learn how to make coffee with you all those years ago.

This version of Chris disappears in seconds though, his deepened voice returning, “I’m a shit because someone’s a brat,” he spits, reaching between your legs to grab your hand and place it on your stomach so you can feel how far his cock is plunging inside of you. This immediately destroys any remaining sense of self-preservation and dignity, and you resort to begging and pleading for your life, the effort of restraining your orgasm getting to your head.

“Okay slut. Cum for me,” he orders breathily, panting sporadically, his shirt soaked through with sweat. You groan in pleasure and finally allow yourself release, twitching and gasping underneath him. Your high makes you press down on your stomach unknowingly, and Chris’ breath hitches at the increased sudden pressure.

“I said- I said cum for me. Not make me cum,” he chokes out, his second orgasm of the night crashing into him unwillingly, his voice dying into an almost silent whimper.

He curses his way through it, rutting shallowly into you a few more times before he completely stills, his hands squeezing your thighs, needlessly babbling dirty words of affirmation and praise. "Amazing baby... so good f'me... so warm... fuck stop clenching- god you're fucking beautiful, my beautiful... absolutely perfect."

He releases your legs and they flop back around him, sore. Chris crawls up your body, trying to control his breathing, and rests himself gently onto you, peppering your neck lovingly with kisses and soothingly caressing your thighs.

“You okay honey?” he asks, eyes wide with worry at your silence. You smile at him and wrap your hands around his neck for a passionate kiss, mind blank at the feeling of him buried comfortingly inside you still.

“What happened to fucking me with your fingers afterwards?” You hum, knotting your hand into his sweaty hair. “No way are you still up for that. Your colour hasn’t-” “It’s green, love. I’m okay. I’ve only orgasmed three times.” “Only three. Jesus Christ only three?”

“Your colour, Chris?” You ask, kissing him on the nose. He pauses, a little shocked at being asked the question. “I’m- what- I mean- that system was meant for you-” “What’s your colour baby? Just answer the question.”

“Green,” he eventually mumbles, slipping out of you and sliding back down your body to replace his dick with his mouth and fingers.

After about a minute of you squirming and moaning loudly for him, he stops, looking at you with concern. “Yeobo, are you sure about this? You know how bad I am with self-restraint when I’m eating you,” he asks, licking his lips nervously.

“Then I’ll be just as bad when you’re buried in my throat too,” you grin, spreading your legs wider for him. “Shit," he pauses, "I’m not going to need to go to the gym tomorrow, am I?” He groans, returning back to your folds and attacking your clit with renewed gusto, his tongue lapping eagerly, three fingers already pumping into you.

“What do you mean? You can still go-oHHhh!” Chris hums in acknowledgement (and you die just a bit) and extricates himself from you long enough to say, “This is a workout in itself,” before returning to his task at hand.

And this night, my friends, is the night that Bahng Alexander Korain was brought into this world.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> Bonus #4 -> Masterlist

A/N: If you don’t mf know who Alex is then you should be going back and reading the series smh. That’s why this is called a BONUS because if you read this after reading the series it is 10x better, trust.

Until next read! -Kaisowoo

[therealpie02]

Peace through struggle

Pairings: Yunho x fem! reader

Summary: You had a fight with your boyfriend. But you haven't seen each other for a long time, and if words can't resolve your conflict, then another way will help.

Genre: smut 18+

Word count: ~2k

Warnings: it’s just a fiction! soft dom!Yunho, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, cum eating, squirting, let me know if I missed something

A/N: friendly reminder English isn’t my native language <3 my first work on the new acc ^^

———————————————————————

You haven't seen each other for about three weeks. Constant departures and training, Yunho stayed in the dorm with Yeosang because it was more convenient for him to get to his bed to sleep for 4 hours at most and start a hard day again. You've missed him so much these days, but that didn't mean you'd let him act like a complete jerk.

And after your quarrel, you were lying on the bed with your back to the window and hugging your pudongie. Yunho remained sitting in the kitchen finishing his dinner. "Well, go to hell," you thought when you heard sounds from the next room. Yes, your boyfriend is the best, sweetest and most gentle in this white world, even a golden retriever is not as good as him. However, there were days when (as you say) his stubborn Aries nature breaks out and he insists on his own.

Maybe it's because you're both tired, you came home after a hard shift at work, Yunho just recently got off the plane to the ground. Nevertheless, you didn't want to think about anything, just look at the darkening sunset.

After a while, you heard Yunho's footsteps coming into your bedroom. He dragged his bag, put it on the sofa and began to put his things on the shelves of the closet. During all this time, you didn't even turn to look at him, although you felt his burning gaze on your back. At some point, the mattress of the bed bent and you heard the sound of unlocking the phone. Anger was raging in you, the blood was boiling in your veins. You lay there and slowly went crazy, no one knew how much longer you could hold out like that, so that right now you wouldn't lie on top of him and start asking him to fuck you while he was just listlessly flipping through his tape on the phone.

It was already dark outside the window when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You instantly jerked and threw your boyfriend's hand off you. Your body's reaction was the opposite, you wanted Yunho to touch you again, but you couldn't let him get out of this situation so easily. Yunho moved to your side of the bed so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. This feeling ignited a fire inside you that demanded attention, but you couldn't give up so quickly.

His fingers began to slowly stroke you from shoulder to hip. Why was it so unbearably pleasant? You squeezed your eyes shut and brought your legs together, almost lying on your stomach. You let him stroke you further until his fingers got under your T-shirt and traced circles on your back, which made you exhale loudly. Gathering up his courage, Yunho approached your ear.

"Y/n, look at me, please," he whispered, starting to kiss your ear, face and neck. A long kiss on the neck knocked all the air out of you, and his bite after that made you moan softly. But you immediately fell silent, pretending that you didn't care about his manipulations.

"Y/n," he said again and tried to turn you around so that you could look at him, but your grip on the pudongie was strong enough for him to be defeated. The fingers finished their machinations with you, and his warmth next to you evaporated in the same second. Well, apparently he decided to talk to you tomorrow.

Thoughts of sleep were already creeping into your head when suddenly strong hands grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to fly into the air and kneel. Pudongie fell off the bed altogether. Out of surprise, you didn't even notice how those same hands got under your T-shirt and were already squeezing your boobs quite hard.

"You're so stubborn," your boyfriend's deep voice came from behind. Yunho pressed your back against his chest so that you could feel his hard cock with your ass even through your clothes. You swore under your breath, damn it, you really wanted him, and he knew it perfectly well.

"Honey, I don't need your words today, so you can keep quiet as long as you want while I fuck you."

With that, he bent you down so that you had to get on all fours. He left kisses on your neck, long fingers hooked the elastic band of your pajama pants along with your underwear and pulled down. He waited a bit to get a reaction from you that would allow him to do what he was going to do. You nodded at him without looking. The cold air made you shiver and clench your legs, which your boyfriend didn't like. Yunho didn't bother to take off your pants and underpants to the end, but forced you to spread your legs wider with the force of his hands. He froze for a second and stopped doing anything to you, thoroughly enjoying the view. You wanted to turn around and look at the expression on his admiring face, but his hand on your neck stopped any of your attempts.

"I'm going to fuck you so that you forget the reason we had a fight," he said, taking off his clothes along the way. To tell the truth, you've already forgotten what you quarreled about, but you won't spoil your pleasure. It wasn't every day that Yunho found the strength to have aggressive sex. But when he found it…

"Oh.." you moaned when you felt two of his fingers enter you and quickly move deeper. You were already wet enough, but the lack of constant practice could hurt you. However, no matter how good your boyfriend's intentions were, you desperately wanted his cock. The other hand was tracing circles on your clit, and this is the symphony you missed these days of separation. It seems you whimpered, realizing that you wouldn't last that long.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to say anything anymore, I just want you," Yunho whispered into your back and straightened up. He took his fingers away, and you could have cried on the spot, until a strong push into you almost knocked you off balance. You could have sworn that you tore the pillow you were clutching into when Yunho gave another quick and deep thrust.

"Fu-.." another one, his big cock felt so good in you, he filled you all over, the speed of his thrusts did not allow you to think clearly. You fell on your elbows when Yunho grabbed you by the waist, holding you in place, and continued to push into you with the same frantic speed. Your screams and his moans filled your bedroom, you were both wet with sweat, besides you couldn't control your tears from the approaching orgasm.

"Tell me when you..."

"Yunho, now!" He pulled dick out and continued to fuck you with three fingers. More, more and more, you were stunned by the pleasant feelings that rolled over you, so you couldn't hear how loudly you screamed, stopped feeling how violently your pussy was squeezing around Yunho's fingers and completely did not notice how everything became wet under you.

You were still regaining consciousness when your boyfriend gently turned you over, laid you on your back and whispered right into your lips.

"I missed you" his moist and soft lips were so close to yours, but he barely touched you. That son of a bitch was being played by you when he was so devastatingly handsome, wet hair stuck to his forehead, ears turned charmingly red, and his bottomless eyes looked straight into your soul.

"Me too," there's not a drop of pride left in your body after this round. Your hands stroked his broad shoulders, you put one hand on the back of his head, slightly squeezing his hair into a fist, trying to pull him towards you. He smirked insidiously, but obeyed and kissed you the way you wanted.

A second later, you feel how he directs the head of his penis back into your orgasm-sensitive entrance. The kiss was interrupted by your prolonged moan. You squeezed your eyes shut from the intense stimulation, it was between unbearable pain and complete bliss. Opening your eyes, you found Yunho kneeling and looking down at you. He looked at you with a face full of satisfaction and power. His hands took your hips and pressed them against his waist so that you could fix them. You could tell by his look and smile that your end was coming. He grabbed you by the waist again, but this time his grip was much stronger so that traces could remain and began to pound into you with all his strength. A stream of curses came from your mouth, your sensitive pussy sent waves of his thrusts all over your body. You wanted to hold on to the blanket so you wouldn't try to escape, but the man pulled your arms over your head with one hand.

"Fuck Yunho," you continued to scream and moan incessantly. "I can't take it anymore!"

His response was a deep and fast thrust into your sweet spot, then he repeated it again and again, again.

"Yunho, I..."

"Come on," he replied, pressing his thumb on your clitoris, which made you feel like you were breaking into fucking pieces of the remnants of your consciousness.

After a couple of seconds, you could feel his cock expanding inside you and shooting hot cum. Yunho moaned and tried to catch his breath with deep breaths, drops of sweat dripped on you and his hands threatened to crush you.

He pulled out his cock and you felt cold and empty, as well as his sperm began to pour out of you. With his fingers, he gathered what came out of you and brought it to your mouth. He lay down next to you and watched as you licked the cum off his fingers under the onslaught of his dominant gaze. He smiled wearily.

"How about falling asleep in a hug now, we'll think about a shower tomorrow?"

You couldn't do anything but kiss him gently, hug him and fall asleep on his chest.

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x f!reader.

part two to this fic.

after inviting blitzø to stay the night in your bed, the two of you (and the rest of i.m.p.) deal with the sudden change in the dynamic between the two of you.

features blitzø typical language, pure fluff, and sexual innuendo. the man really has a thing for your boobs, okay? 1.4k

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You wake up before your alarm, eyes opening reluctantly against the red light of a hellish morning. It takes you a moment to remember the events of the night before, but the shifting of the sheets over you as another body in the bed moves brings it all flooding back.

Both you and Blitzø had moved in the night and his hand is no longer wrapped around yours. You vaguely remember falling asleep after him, your hand still enclosed in his as his breathing had slowly evened out into a soothing, steady rhythm. His back is to you now, his body curled in on itself almost protectively. You take a moment to study him, the curve of his horns and the slim line of his back as it peeks out from under the blankets. Eventually you make a move to leave the bed, switching off your alarm and intent on a steaming shower.

You stop as something tightens reflexively around your leg as soon as you try to move, and you lift the sheets with a brow raised in curiosity. Blitzø’s tail is wrapped firmly around your calf, and as you watch, the spade of his tail twitches slowly back in forth against the underside of your knee. It’s oddly soothing, and you press your lips together against the smile that threatens to bloom on your lips. With a soft exhale you let yourself fall back against the mattress, turning your head to look at him again.

“Blitzø?” you say his name softly, almost unwilling to wake him up. You weren’t sure of the last time he’d seemed so… peaceful. You reach out to touch a gentle hand to his shoulder. “B? We’ve gotta go to work.”

The imp groans, rolling onto his back. He squints up at the unfamiliar ceiling, apparently confused. “The fuck…?”

His eyes snap fully open as the night before suddenly comes back to him, and he grimaces, slowly turning his head to meet your eye.

“Christ on a stick, I really spent the fuckin’ night here, didn’t I?”

You nod, amused by the almost bashful glint in his eyes. “You did.”

“Please tell me I at least got to bury my face in those sweet—”

“No, you didn’t.” you say bluntly, rolling your eyes before he can finish. Still, you feel a tingle of warmth through you at the suggestion. “How’d you sleep?”

He shrugs a shoulder, rubbing a hand over his face and groaning. “Fuck, my head hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you drink your weight in booze two nights in a row.”

“Bitch.”

You smirk at the lack of venom in his voice. “You wanna shower first? I don’t know if I’ve got anything you could wear, but I guess you could borrow a shirt or something if you need it…”

Blitzø groans again, more dramatically than before, rolling into your side and burying his face in your neck. You freeze as you feel the warmth of him press up against you, his face almost nuzzling into the curve of your collarbone. The sensation makes that warmth reappear inside you. The softest of cat-like purrs sounds from him for a moment before he stiffens, suddenly aware of the position he’s in.

He jerks away from you, falling off the side of the bed with a loud thump and a string of curses. The move tugs your leg across the bed, and his swearing continues as he realizes he’s effectively tied himself to you in his sleep. “Fuckin’ – ASS!”

His tail detangles itself from your leg as you sit up, and you swear you can see a pinkish hue to the scarred side of his face.

“…You good?”

“Shut up.”

“Nope,” you reply childishly, smirking when he flips you off. “Now, did you want to shower?”

Blitzø tries for seductive, raising an eyebrow at you from where he still sits on the floor. “You joining me? ‘Cause I gotta say the idea of you all soaped up and gag—”

“Blitzø.” you deadpan, climbing out of bed. His eyes drop over your figure as he realizes what you had been wearing in bed with him – just an oversized tee shirt and your underwear – and you swear his pupils dilate. “Are you sober yet?”

He blinks up at you, swallowing heavily before clearing his throat. “Judgin’ by the titty-fuckin’ brass band shovin’ its collective dick up my brain’s unlubed ass right now, I’d say yeah.”

You wrinkle your nose at the metaphor but squat down in front of him, studying his face for a moment. You nod as you make a decision, reaching out to wipe a spot of dried drool away from the corner of his mouth with your thumb. “Okay.”

Ignoring the part of you that reminded you that this was a bad idea, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his in a chaste kiss, his cheek still cupped in your hand. Blitzø freezes for a moment before kissing you back, his hand finding your knee and sliding up to curl around the bare flesh of your thigh as he leans up into it. You feel his breath catch against your mouth, his tongue touching your bottom lip for a second. The kiss is soft and it’s brief and when you pull away Blitzø still looks surprised.

Giving him a small smile you stand, fingers curling in the hem of your shirt. “I’ve gotta shower. The coffee machine should start brewing in a few minutes if you want some.”

“I… what?!”

***

Loona doesn’t say anything when she climbs up into the van beside you, trapping you between the hellhound and the imp driving, but her raised eyebrow speaks volumes.

“Nothing happened.” you tell her defensively.

“Uh-huh.” Loona replies dryly, already focused on her phone, and you can basically feel Blitzø’s smirk on the other side of you. By the time you were showered and dressed he’d managed to summon up much of his usual bravado, and the fact that he was currently wearing your favorite 666 Wrath Radio tee shirt was serving as basically a spotlight broadcasting the idea that the two of you had fucked.

You suspect that that was the whole reason he picked it.

You jump as you feel Blitzø’s hand slide over your thigh as he reaches between your knees to shift gears. He touches you again as he withdraws, claws grazing along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Goosebumps follow after them. You shiver and he snickers, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you’d chosen to wear shorts.

Loona eyes you as she notices the touch, and you roll your eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure.”

***

“Is Blitzø wearing your shirt?” Moxxie asked as you entered the I.M.P. office, drawing Millie’s attention too. “Why is he wearing your shirt?”

A smile forms on Millie’s lips, her eyes shining with possibility. “Did you two…?”

“No!” you reply, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. “For Satan’s sake, no!”

Moxxie seems to be still stuck on the obvious. “But he’s wearing your shirt.”

“Aw, come on, Moxx.” Blitzø says, wrapping an arm obnoxiously around the other imp and pulling him unwillingly into his side. He ruffles Moxxie’s hair with his fist, grinning as he tries to shove him away. “You know if we’d fucked Y/N here would need the day off just to get those sexy little legs of hers workin’ again after all the shakin’ they’d been doin’!”

“Shut the fuck up, B,” you tell him as Moxxie finally manages to wrest himself Blitzø’s grasp, and the taller imp grins at you. “Or I’ll tell ‘em what actually happened last night. Okay, boss?”

“Ooh, ‘boss’? Tits, you’re gonna go and make me all tingly.”

You roll your eyes, but his smile widens from teasing to more pleased as he notices you trying not to smile yourself. “Can we just… go kill someone? Please?”

Blitzø claps his hand together, turning on his heel to face Loona. “Now you’re talking! Looney, what have we got on the books for today?”

Millie takes a seat beside you, leaning into your side to speak quietly enough that only you would hear. “What did happen last night?”

You shake your head, avoiding her eye. Blitzø catches your eye again as Loona goes through the day’s agenda in a detached tone of voice. He winks and you feel yourself flush. Millie’s eyebrows shoot up as she notices.

You clear your throat. “I… honestly, I've got no fucking idea.”

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder. 

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up. 

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day. 

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times. 

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful. 

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards. 

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.” 

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?” 

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone. 

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant. 

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone. 

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle. 

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall. 

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder. 

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day. 

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well. 

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies. 

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing. 

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you. 

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place. 

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay. 

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.” 

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words. 

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison. 

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek. 

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with. 

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished. 

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit. 

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway. 

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.” 

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’. 

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[aakeysmash]

ok ok, another one here:

reader being afraid of some insect and sukuna just teasing them cause of it but still taking the insect out of the house.

sukuna calmly walks into your room after hearing the highest scream he's ever heard someone make. he leans on your doorframe, one of his eyebrows raised and his hands in the pocket of his sweats.

"are you trying to permanently damage your vocal chords?" he asks your trembling form. you scream again, caught by surprise since you didn't hear his footsteps, then turn around. he's stunned when, in a matter of 0.2 seconds, he finds you curled around his leg.

"you look like a fucking toddler. you sounded like one, actually. are you a toddler?" he says while shaking his leg, trying to get you to stop gripping him.

"why didn't you come sooner if you were home?" you whine, still gripping his leg with all you've got. you've got that toddler strength in you, apparently.

"because i didn't want to have to remove blood from my clothes in case you were getting killed," he deadpans. you still, then get off of him and stand up.

"why don't you love me anymore?" you pout.

"just tell me where the fucking spider is, woman," he tells you, sighing, while rubbing his face. you gasp, pointing at his chest.

"so you knew!"

"girl, you've done this shit at least once a month since we started dating," he states. silence. you frown.

"we've been together since high school," he continues. silence, again. your frown deepens.

"we're 25," he finishes. you raise your hands in the air.

"okayyyy maybe i'm a bit dramatic. sue me for wanting to be saved by my egotistical, mean, big boyfriend who simply doesn't like me enough to come rescue me every time i need a knight in shining armor," you say, closing your eyes and placing the back of your hand on your forehead. you hear him huff and you open one eye. then he nudges you away, getting a napkin from your nightstand and catching the microscopic eight legged arachnid from the wall.

"there. happy?" he says, looking at you, bored.

"thank you babyyyy," you gush over to him, finally at peace, kissing his cheek sweetly.

suddenly, he gets far from you. you don't even have time to react: he straight up launches the napkin at your face, then hurries out of the room, laughing.

"SUKUNA RYOMEN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

that night, he sleeps on the couch. karma is a bitch, indeed.