#god idk i just feel so helpless

[gotyouanyway]

probably multiple year waitlist for assessment at the eds clinic meanwhile i simply have to cope 👍 awesome

[backpackingspace]

Okay so I've been thinking about @nonbinarylocalcryptid Astyanax lived/daddy odysseus au. Which is some good shit in general. Yall should check it out. But specifically I'm think about what it would be like for this child to grow up on calypso's island. He would have been what ? 3-10 there??

[hiodoshi-ao]

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[catchmewjsn]

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[taatdragun]

God just need to scream into the void real quick because I am so fucking tired of the state of the world currently

[entitled-fangirl]

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Jasper Hale x human!reader

Summary: The reader sees the scars on Jasper's arms, prompting him to tell her the truth.

Words: 1,646

Warnings: talk of murder, vampire stuff idk, scars, cursing

Author's note: God this is angsty. Someone get 8th-grade me in here right now because this is what she thought she was reading at her age.

Masterlist <3

.......................................................

Jasper sat in the bed placed in his room, his mate resting her back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his face found its way into her hair. Her hands were placed on top of his on her waist, relishing in the feeling of comfort he gave her.

They were a strange pair, the two. The bloodthirsty vampire fighting his instincts to feed and the helpless human girl who wouldn’t be able to fight him if she tried. 

But she trusted him with her whole heart. It had been hard at first. She had to marinate in the knowledge of the existence of vampires, and he suffered the constant smell of her sweet scent, calling out to him every second.

It was so hard for him, even on a good day. Her smell of her blood always drew him in. 

The only thing holding him back from draining her was the feeling he knew he wouldn’t fight the minute her body became lifeless: dread.

But now, they laid in each other’s arms in complete trust. 

Her hand wandered up his forearm, stopping at the unevenness of his skin. She looked down, pulling his sleeve up briefly.

Bite marks and scratches laid all up and down his forearm. She didn’t want to know how far up his arm it went, thankful for the sleeve.

She felt him shift. He felt uncomfortable. Scared of her reaction. But above all else, he cared for her. She could practically feel his gift poking at her emotions, intertwining them with his. A sense of calmness fell over the two of them before words could form.

Her hand still laid against his arm gently, her thumb brushing one of the bites to comfort him in her own way.

She felt his head move away from hers, leaning back against the bed frame. She used this opportunity to turn in his grip, now facing him. Once there, she pulled his arm into her lap, her eyes inspecting the scars in front of her. 

He simply watched. He couldn’t hide them, and he would never lie. Not to her. So, he simply sat there to let her ask him or draw her own conclusions.

She finally looked up, her eyes locking on his. She’s thankful of his gift, because otherwise, she may have been teary-eyed. “T….Tell me, Jasper?”

His eyes softened. God, she was so good to him. So perfect. So innocent and pure. Everything he knew he wasn’t.

Her blood would be so easy to take. The feeling of adrenaline would be worth the-

“It’s… a long story, Princess. I don’t think you wanna hear it.”

She was visibly hurt by his answer, her hand retreating from his. “Oh. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry… I just… just thought…”

He chuckles to himself, teasing her, “Thought what, Princess? You really wanna know?”

She nods, her eyes glossy, holding an unreadable expression.

He sighs. He wanted to hold off from telling her this. That was his plan. But now, she had ruined the perfect plan in his head. Not that he could be mad at her. His heart couldn’t do that.

He pulls his sleeve up his other arm, showing her the scarring. “D’you know much about the Civil War, Darlin’?”

She nods, her eyes never leaving his forearm. 

He smiles, “Good girl. Knew you would.” He took a deep breath, not that he needed to, but it allowed him to collect himself and decide what to say. “I was turned during the Civil War. A woman named Maria convinced me to help her train a vampire army. I was foolish and naive. I thought she was doing the right thing.”

He looked up at her to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at the scars, her head low in thought. He took this as a sign to continue.

“You know.. I was, uh, a major, in the war?”

Her head perked up at that, her eyes meeting his. “A..a major?”

He smirked, “Yeah. Major Jasper Whitlock.” As he said so, she felt a wave of pride come from his body. She didn’t need Jasper’s gifts to sense it, for it had come so plain. 

He continued, “I trained them myself. Her army, I mean. I know you don’t know much about us, but newborn vampires are more dangerous. More deadly. They’re stronger than most.” As he said this, she could feel his tone becoming sharper. 

“Stronger than Emmett?”

He nods, “Yes, Princess. Much stronger. You stay away from a newborn.” It had meant to be advice, but it came out a demand. “They’re more deadly than you can imagine. I’ve watched them do…” his eyes look off in thought, “…unspeakable things…”

A small silence overtakes them before she breaks it. “And you trained them?”

His eyes quickly move back to hers, the amber color glowing, “Yes, ma’am.”

“How?”

“Not easily. They don’t take too well, as you can see,” he said, his head motioning forward at his arms. “I punished them, too. Killed them when they got out of hand or weren’t what we needed.”

He feared to look up at her, but he couldn’t resist. Her gaze was on the window. He didn’t often wish for a gift different than his, but at this moment, he wished he could read her mind. See what was going on in that lovely little human brain of hers. But he couldn’t. He sensed she wasn’t distressed. He had to see her eyes to be sure. Not for his gift’s sake, but for his own. His hand outstretched to grab her jaw gently, pulling it towards his own. “Are you scared of me?”

Her eyes catch his, their faces a foot apart. “…Sh…should I be, Jasper?”

He considers her question quickly with a nod, his voice low. “Really fucking scared.”

She blinks at his wording, her brain struggling to comprehend everything in front of her. 

He wanted to joke, take the dark mood away, but he knew this was serious. “I killed before this,” he gestured to himself, “I killed during this…. I’ll probably have to kill sometime after this. I’ve murdered many with no remorse, their bodies laying at my feet. Innocent lives and murders, too. I overpowered the strongest vampires with ease, ending them mercilessly. My heart holds no mercy. So, I’ll ask again. Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t put it into words. Was she scared? She supposed so. Any sane person would be. But she trusted him. She trusted him. She trusted him. “You… You won’t hurt me, Jasper.”

He wanted to laugh at her sweet response. How naive of his little lamb. She said it so sure of herself. Of him. She didn’t know of the constant, deep thirst of blood he fought back every time their eyes met. She didn’t know of the pain he felt when she parted from him. She didn’t know of the horrors he had endured. And most importantly, she would never understand the terrors he had caused.

“You don’t know that, Princess.”

She took a quick breath in at his response. Every reasonable thought she ever had was gone. She should run. She should hide. But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her body remained here, on the vampire’s bed, his hand gripping her jaw while staring at her like she was prey. Every reasonable thought was gone.

She reached her hand up to place on top of his on her jaw, flinching at the cold feeling of his skin on hers. “You won’t, Jasper.” She began to even sound confident.

He smiled at her, his sharp teeth peeking out. This girl believes in him that much. What a stupid girl. Too trusting. Too hopeful. Too pretty. Too good. Too perfect. He could absolutely ruin her. But he wouldn’t. “C’mon, Princess. Admit you’re a little afraid.” He needed to hear her say it.

Her hand gripped his, pushing it down her jaw lightly until it rested over her throat. His hand now wrapped around her neck, her hand lightly resting on his. 

He was speechless at her touches. Her movements. Her willingness. Her loyalty to him. His eyes stare at his own hand, admiring the view in front of him. Her hopeful eyes staring into his while his hand rested above her only source of oxygen. It was intimate. It was scary. It was perfect. She was perfect. 

His thumb brushed her throat lightly, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his touch. He could practically feel the blood running through her veins. And she trusted him still. 

They sat there in silence for a while, simply admiring the other. 

She was perfect. Too innocent for her own good, but so loyal and willing for him. Her pretty face was the perfect view for him. He could stare at it until the end of his days. And she trusted him with her life. 

She trusted him with the one thing his body thirst to destroy. And he loved her all the more for it.

He was strong. Resilient. An open book for her to read at her leisure. Protective was a word she was familiar with. She felt like his arms were the only thing she needed to live in the world. She trusted him with her life.

His other arm moved up her body, his hand getting lost in the hair on the back of her head. He pushes her forward, capturing her lips in his. 

The hand on her neck stayed. But it never twitched. 

They pulled away from each other to let her catch her breath. Their faces were close as they tried to think of the right words to say.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She wasn’t afraid of him. 

................................................................

[yongvillage]

ⓘ face fucking, suffocation, dubcon, name calling, idk jaehyun is mean and gross

jaehyun almost felt bad. key word: almost. but he couldn’t help but laugh, being quickly interrupted by his own moans. he looks down at you, mockingly.

your jaw ached with so much intensity you were certain it was going to fall off at any moment, and your tears blurred your vision. maybe it was for the better, seeing jaehyun’s smug face made you angry.

you tried to tap him, scratch, hit, anything to warn him that you couldn’t breathe, but all he did was laugh breathlessly, choking out, “you’ll take it, baby, jus’ a little longer.”

he’d been saying a little longer for an eternity by now. you felt the caps of your knees go numb from the hardwood floor of jaehyun’s bedroom, and your core ached. but you knew better than to touch yourself. no, jaehyun wouldn’t like that one bit.

jaehyun’s hips snapped into the back of your throat fervently, a jumble of curses and praises and groans clouding the room. your gags and tear stained face only egging him on further, “fuck, w-wish you could see how you, ah, looked right now.”

you sputtered as jaehyun’s cock went especially deep on one thrust, only able being able to hear his strangled chuckle as your eyes were screwed shut. his grip on your hair was vicious, tightening as his hips somehow managed to go faster.

you wanted to scream, to let jaehyun know that you were surely going to faint at any moment, black spots scattered across your plane of vision and limbs starting to tingle and go numb, and as if god somehow heard your prayers, jaehyun slowed down.

you look up at hm through your eyelashes curiously, wondering what prompted him to suddenly show mercy. his thumb came down and hooked onto your right cheek, tugging at it, creating an almost x-ray type of vision as he was able to see how the inside of your mouth looked with his angry cock hitting the back your throat. you could feel it twitch at the lewd position you were put in.

“fuuuuck, ju-jus’ let me look at you for a bit baby,” jaehyun said, panting. his eyes were trained on your mouth, on your lips, mesmerized by the way they molded around his cock perfectly.

your body relaxed a bit at jaehyun’s calm pace, thanking his fascination with your mouth for giving you a moment to breathe. it continued on for a bit, jaehyun was seemingly hypnotized by the sight of your mouth, the pad of his thumb starting to wrinkle from the saliva of your inner cheek that he was still holding open.

“i think i could cum just from looking at you like this,” he panted out, his mouth agape in awe and eyes half open.

and before you could even think, jaehyun’s other hand pushes your head all the way down, the tip of your nose hitting his crooked happy trail. his other hand pulls away from your cheek, and you inhaled his musk for what was probably going to be the last time as his thumb and forefinger pinched your red, snotty nose, his brutal pace picking back up.

your eyes widened at jaehyun’s action, tears immediately brimming and then quickly falling down your face as you felt your throat tighten.

jaehyun laughs, “mm, s-stupid bitch, you’re gon’ choke on this dick,” he grins, watching the way your mouth gives up on trying to even suck him and just lays open for him to play with. his eyebrows furrowed as his face contorted, “y-yeah, shit, you’re gon’ choke and you’re gon’ like it.”

saliva bubbled out of the corners of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. you begin to sob, or at least try to, snot leeking out of jaehyun’s hold on your nose and beginning to trail down your lips. your eyes burned from how much you’d been crying, and you wondered how jaehyun was lasting so long, praying that he’d break and come down your throat.

“wha-, ah, what’s wrong baby? c-can’t breathe?” he cooed, his head craning down to take a better look at your helpless and damp face, hair sticking to your forehead and the sides of your face, your eyelids beginning to droop at how lightheaded you were starting to feel.

your nails clawed at jaehyun’s thighs, glancing down for a second to see you’d actually drawn blood. you accepted the fact that jaehyun probably wasn’t going to stop, his sick self was going to keep going till you passed out and your body went limp. your muscles were sore from constricting and tensing at his pace, bracing yourself for each thrust. you’re vision began to darken again.

jaehyun smiled down at you lazily, his pace quickening as he finally felt himself getting close, hoping that you’d hold out a little longer so he could cum down your throat and have you swallow it, letting it pool it in your tummy, “mmf, j-jus’ a little longer baby.”

you tried to shake your head, but your current half-conscious state, the lack of air, and the fact that you had jaehyun’s enormous cock in your mouth made it almost impossible.

jaehyun laughed down at you, his breathing becoming labored and hips stuttering, “gon’ go sleep sleep? fuck, go ahead baby, you’re gon’ wake up looking s-so pretty f’me with cum all o-over you.”

in your final moments of consciousness, hot, sticky cum rushed down your throat, jaehyun’s groans sounding almost pained as his large hand kept your head in place, forgetting his other one was still pinching your nose.

jaehyun looked down to see your head had gone limp, smirking to himself as he pulled you off him.

@yongvillage | ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[heavensenteden]

✎ the art of ruin | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

oh my god back to back fics! who is she?

finally. crowe fic. my man my man my man.

this is kind of self indulgent cause i like the idea of crowe being possessive and wanting to watch you fall apart in his hands type beat.

i also realized that all my fics are fem readers so pls bear with me, i’ll work on my gender neutral and male writing skills for you guys <3

also i tried this fic and last fic to space it out so it’s easier on the eyes to read? idk lmk what yall think ok much love mwah !

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62636683?view_adult=true

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

word count: 2189

💫˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Audio from the TV filled the room, muffled into an almost distant hum by the noise-canceling headphones wrapped snugly around your ears. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to make out the dialogue that was being spoken out into your tiny apartment, not that it mattered.

Your mind was elsewhere, drifting, unraveling, caught in the slow and steady descent Crowe was single-handedly orchestrating.

He had come over earlier that evening to check up on you, since you had missed class that day. You weren’t sick or anything, just felt like sleeping in, and he had suggested you two watch a movie together!

He spent his time, too much of it, deliberately choosing something for the both of you to "watch," despite knowing full well that your sight would be stolen from you before the opening credits had even finished rolling. You never even got a glimpse of what he had picked out.

Not that you needed to.

Seated on your cozy couch, you found yourself trapped against him, your back pressed flush to his chest as he lounged like this was all routine. Your legs were splayed open, pinned in place by his knees, ensuring there was no room for modesty, no escape from the deliberate tease and taunts of his slow and steady touches.

His fingers traced along your body nice and slow, featherlight patterns over your bare skin, savoring the way you shivered under his touch. Every so often, he’d pause, catching a nipple between his fingers, rolling it between the pads of his fingers just to feel you squirm.

And yet, despite the helpless, breathy sounds falling from your lips, he seemed oddly absorbed in the movie, like he could multitask with ease, like this wasn’t even effort for him, but you felt that was expected from the student council president, right?

Then, the sharp sting of his teeth on the back of your neck made you jolt in his lap, a sharp gasp escaping before you could even think to swallow it down. Your mouth parted uselessly, searching for words, but they quickly died on your tongue before they could even begin to form.

Crowe merely exhaled a quiet chuckle, his breath hot against your skin, and pressed his fingers closer to your clit, circling lazily, like he had all the time in the world to unravel you, you were his in this moment, his starlight, his goddess.

A whimper left your throat, your hips rolling into his touch on instinct, silently begging for more, for anything, for mercy, or perhaps, for the opposite. But when you tried to squeeze your legs shut, to stifle the hot and aching need between them, his knees held you firm, forcing you open, keeping you right where he wanted you.

The silk binding your wrists behind your back strained as you twisted, struggling against it, desperate for friction. But Crowe merely pulled you in tighter, an arm braced around your middle, his slight display of strength becoming an unspoken command: Behave.

A sharp tug at your nipple again made you cry out, the sting of it stealing what little composure you had left. It was as if he was wordlessly scolding you, pulling on you just enough to remind you of who was in control. And when your cries softened into breathy whimpers, he smoothed over the abused skin with slow, soothing strokes, as if to reward your submission.

Crowe was nothing if not patient. He played the long game, coaxing you toward the edge only to pull you back, time and time again, until the anticipation left you trembling, wrecked, desperate to know how far he’d take it. Until the need pooled so thick and heavy in your stomach that you couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe beyond him.

He’d never say it out loud, not with his outwardly prince-like demeanour but, he wanted you to depend on him.

To be desperate for him.

And still, he carried on, lazy circles over your clit, fluttering, teasing, devastatingly slow. You could barely move. Couldn’t see past the black silk blindfold tied securely over your eyes. The world beyond your body, beyond his touch, had long since ceased to exist.

And Crowe?

Well, he was having the time of his life watching you fall apart.

You couldn’t hear anything from the TV, not that it mattered anyways, Crowe had made sure of that, slipping noise-canceling headphones over your ears before your little ‘session’ started, robbing you of everything but the sensation of his touch. Every little sound, every quiet breath, was drowned out, leaving you helplessly tuned in to the language of his hands.

His lips brushed over the nape of your neck, warm and insistent, while a lithe hand traced idle patterns along your belly, teasing, never settling in one place for too long. Your body twitched under his touch, your walls pulsing, desperate, stretched around the fingers he’d kept inside you for what felt like an eternity.

He had you like this for over an hour now, helpless, trembling, on the verge of being ruined, and judging by the lazy way his fingers curled inside you, he had no intention of finishing up anytime soon.

Shifting beneath you, Crowe adjusted his position on the couch, and then very slowly, he pressed his fingers deeper, curling them upwards against that sweet spot of yours.

The sudden jolt of pleasure made you cry out, your body lurching forward, only to collapse back against his chest with a broken moan. You needed more, needed everything, needed to come undone right there in his lap.

Your restless movements made him push in even deeper, his fingers unrelenting, stroking against that spot inside you that made everything else dissolve into white-hot pleasure. A sob tore from your throat, but it fell into empty space, unheard, swallowed by the silence the headphones forced upon you.

You needed to cum. You ached for it, craved it, your mind reduced to nothing but the singular, all-consuming desire to be taken apart completely. You wanted him to ruin you, to fuck you so hard you’d feel it for days, to have him finish inside you so deep that the evidence of it would spill out with every step you took afterward.

The thought made you shudder, made you grind desperately against his hand, trying, begging, to chase your release. But Crowe wasn’t feeling generous. Not yet.

Without warning, he withdrew his fingers completely.

The loss was excruciating. You wailed, the sound broken, desperate, a sob ripping free as you clenched around nothing. Your body trembled, your blindfold damp with fresh tears, your frustration boiling over into full-body tremors.

Crowe’s hands skimmed over your trembling form, stroking over your thighs, your stomach, as if to soothe the pain.

'Not yet', he mouthed against the curve of your shoulder. Soft kisses followed, an apology, a promise, whispered against your skin, though the words themselves were lost to the silence around you.

Only once your sobs had quieted, once the peak you’d been dragged toward had dissolved into something distant, did he finally move again.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips. The first teasing press of his cock nudging against your entrance.

Your head lolled forward, your whole body quaking, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks as he continued, taunting, patient, easing himself against you in a torturously slow rhythm.

Crowe, ever so cruel, ever so loving, had told you before this had even begun that he’d only let you cum once the movie ended.

What you didn’t know was that he had paused it ages ago.

Crowe waited until you stopped shaking before he started again, slowly pushing himself into you, and waiting until you were settled onto his cock. He pressed soft kisses onto your skin, along your back, your neck, your shoulders.

Then once you were calmed down, he started fucking into you, stretching you open all over again. Overwhelmed, overstimulated, you wailed at the sensation, only now realizing that you were begging out loud for him, desperate, babbling, incoherent.

You were so fucking close. Your entire body tensed, every nerve set aflame, and then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, your release crashed into you like a tidal wave. The tension shattered, sending violent tremors through your frame as you convulsed in Crowe’s arms, your body surrendering to him completely.

You were still mindlessly babbling, blindly seeking his lips, but they were just out of reach. Instead, Crowe’s hands slid down to your hips, holding you flush against him as he rocked you slowly back and forth, keeping you full, keeping you stuffed. You whimpered, your body too raw, too sensitive, the aftershocks still rolling through you in weak, helpless tremors.

Then he slowed, just enough to reach up and untie the drenched blindfold. It fell to the side of the couch as your vision returned, hazy and unfocused. You blinked sluggishly, adjusting to the dim room before tilting your head up to look at him, only to find disappointment in his eyes.

A soft kiss against your temple. A chiding murmur.

“My starlight.”

Your stomach twisted at his tone.

“You only had ten more minutes left.”

Your eyes flickered to the television. Spirited Away. One of your favorite movies. And sure enough, the little bar at the bottom of the tv screen taunted you by displaying that only ten minutes remained.

“I-”

Crowe hushed you with a gentle press of his fingers to your clit. A soft circle. A gentle touch. It sent a full-body shudder through you, your limbs twitching against him from the aftershocks of your previous orgasm.

“You couldn’t wait just a little longer?” His voice was sweet. Too sweet. “How impatient, my goddess.”

And then, he thrust himself back in, slow and steady.

“Now,” he murmured, lips grazing your ear. “What’s to be done about that, hm?”

Another thrust. Deep and measured. His cock filled you completely, stretching you all over again. Your fingers curled weakly into the fabric of his shirt, fresh tears welling in your eyes as your body fought to process the relentless pleasure and the aching overstimulation at the same time.

“You feel so good wrapped around me,” he praised, voice thick with satisfaction.

“C-Crowe, please…”

“So warm.” A thrust.

“So wet.” Kisses along your throat, soft, possessive.

A moan, hushed and breathless, spilled against your skin as he bottomed out, stuffing you full. Your eyes rolled back, the sensation overwhelming, every inch of him dragging in and out with practiced control. You were sobbing now, gasping for air, trembling like a leaf in his arms.

It was too much. Too much. It burned, your body was strung too tight, almost past its limits. And yet, you wanted to be good. You needed to be good for him.

One more thrust. Then another. The pleasure built, almost unbearable, but at the same time unstoppable, and then you came again, this time it was painful and all-consuming.

The pain mixed in with the pleasure, the intensity of it all tore through you at once, your body locking up as the orgasm crashed over you.

Your scream barely made it past your lips before Crowe shoved his fingers into your mouth, muffling your cries as he kept you still, kept you grounded, kept you exactly where he wanted you.

“There you are, my love,” he purred.

His eyes were glazed, dark, fixated on you, trembling, drooling over his fingers, completely and utterly undone.

“Just a little longer, okay?”

And then, his rhythm changed. Smooth, controlled thrusts gave way to something more desperate, more erratic. His breath hitched, his hips snapping forward as he chased his own release, using your body to reach his end. You whined in protest, your body already spent, already ruined, but there was no stopping him now.

“P-Please…”

You screamed. Your body spasmed, another orgasm ripping through you violently, liquid spilling between your thighs, soaking his lap. Crowe groaned, a sharp, guttural sound, as he pulled you down onto him, grinding deep, burying himself to the hilt. A higher-pitched moan caught in his throat as he spilled inside you, thick and hot, filling you to the brim.

A shaky hand caught your chin, tilting your face up, and he was now kissing you, his tongue chasing yours, consuming you entirely, sealing his satisfaction against your lips.

The room was silent. Humid. Only the sound of shared, ragged breaths filled the space, the air thick with sweat and sex. Crowe pressed one last kiss to your lips, murmuring praises between the lazy, lingering touches.

“I’m so, so proud of you my starlight.”

You only barely registered the words. Spent, boneless, you melted against his chest, tracing lazy patterns against his shirt with trembling fingers. Your body was almost vibrating, exhausted, but the warmth of his embrace kept you safe, kept you grounded. Your breath evened out, your eyes fluttering shut. Sleep was already pulling you under.

Crowe huffed softly, shaking you gently. “No, you need to shower.”

You didn’t move.

He sighed. Oh well.

You could clean up in the morning.

[ghostgirl-22]

art asking patrick not to cum for a few days so when they have finally sex it’ll be a lot 👀

I think you’re just really neat anon <33

I wrote entirely too much. Edited entirely too little.

CW: 18+ !NSFW! Orgasm delay, D/s I guess if you squint, Patrick cedes power, semen play I guess idk.

—-

It’s a random weekend in September when Patrick realizes how much power Art has over him. They’re just getting home from a pool party at Nicholas Sheridan’s house. He’s like one of three kids that attend Mark Reballato whose family actually lives in Florida. 

They’re dizzydrunk and wet in Patrick’s bed. Art finally gave it up a month ago and he’s been giving it up every night since. Patrick’s peeled Art’s wet and clingy swim shorts down the way he’s been dreaming of doing all night and Patrick’s fucking him. Best sex of his life kinda, fucking him. Art’s come once already and Patrick’s close.. he’s so fucking close when Art whines, “wait—” 

Patrick tries for a second to pretend he doesn’t hear him and then Art says it again, louder, “wait, Patrick stop,” he starts to pull away.

”W-what’s wrong?” Patrick stammers.  

“Nothing just— can you do that—that thing?” He asks, a little shy. Sitting up as he pulls the swim trunks back up over his little waist.  

Patrick smiles looking over Art’s half naked body and grips himself. “Fuck yeah, of course I can sweetie. Lie down,” he whispers. 

It’s so fucking funny. Patrick pulled out once, nutted all over Art’s bare ass and gave him a fetish. 

Patrick did it partially because he’s gross and disgusting and Art is neat and uptight, and partially because he wanted to mark him, claim him. Spill his seed all over him and rub it in. He thought Art would be annoyed but it was the opposite. 

Ever since then Art’s been obsessed with Patrick’s come. Wants it all over him. Likes how warm it is, how much comes out. Loves how it tastes. Dips his fingers inside and licks it all up. Opens his mouth and tries to catch it on his tongue. He doesn’t really like the facial but that’s okay because Patrick’s brain sort of broke after the one time Art let him try and give him one.

Patrick’s jerking himself to that memory and Art scoots forward and grabs his hand to stop him. “Patrick wait—“ he whines. “What if…”

“What?” Patrick starts, breathless. 

“You think a lot more would come out if you um… waited to come?” 

“Probably,” Patrick shrugs, helpless. “But I don’t think I can last much longer.” He’s teetering on the edge. The slightest touch will probably take him out. And Arts sitting in front of him, legs spread, bright eyes shimmering with mischief. Patrick wants to shove it in his mouth.

“Can you try it?” 

“Um��� try what?” 

“Not coming.” 

Patrick feels a little dizzy and it’s not just because he’s on the brink. Surely he’s not hearing properly. “Not?”

”Coming, Yeah, just for a little while,” Art says, looking up. The mischief spreading to his smile. “Like imagine if.. if your balls get so fucking full that… that when you finally do I’m like…soaked in it.”

Patrick takes a breath, his dick twitching just at Art’s words. “God.” He whispers. He’s created a monster. 

“So you don’t want me to…”

Art shakes his head. “I do— but later.”

“Not tonight?”

“No later,” Art says again, like it’s obvious what he’s asking. “But um… you have to not jerk off either,” Art continues, and he bites his lip. “Or fuck your girlfriend.” 

“Not fuck Julie…For you?” 

Art nods. “Please?” 

“How long?” 

“Not long.”

That was two days ago and Patrick’s legitimately going insane. 

He was on the edge of orgasm when Art had stopped him. They changed out of wet clothes into pajamas and Art kept telling him…”you’re fine, you’re fine. You can hold it.” Like he was encouraging him to walk it off after scraping his knee. Art put on the television, some cartoons and started talking about other things to distract him.

Eventually it did start to settle when they snuck out for a 3 am cigarette. Instead of all the energy concentrated at one point it starts to spread out, slow and delicious, this dull aching thrum of desire pulsing under his skin. “See I knew you could do it.” Art says, softly and it almost… not quite but almost messes Patrick up again.

They fall asleep in Arts single and Patrick wakes up with Art’s ass pressed up against him. “I’m sorry,” Art says, and Patrick knows he’s not really. 

Patrick’s usually able to deal with morning wood without jerking off. But this isn’t morning wood. It’s morning wood added onto what he didn’t finish the night before. 

The day goes downhill from there. 

It’s only a half day for the students but it doesn’t make a difference. Patrick spends all morning adjusting, accommodating. It flags every once in a while during class, or practice as he gets distracted but it never fully goes away. Arousal simmering low and distant… always just under the surface.

He’s playing singles during practice so he doesn’t have to stare at Arts ass which helps things. He’s fine. At least he thinks he’s okay. But then they get into the locker room and Art pats him on the shoulder and says, “Good job.” 

It’s the tiniest little touch. His soft breath, just a whisper against Patrick’s skin but it’s almost instant. Patrick’s suddenly so hard he needs to sit down. He’s pulling his bag onto his lap to hide it.  Art smirks, blue eyes flickering down to where Patrick is concealing himself. He pulls off his sweaty t-shirt. “Are you showering here or…”

“What do you fucking think?” Patrick hisses and Art’s grin widens. 

“See you in the room then.” 

And Patrick hates him (loves him). Wants to yank his dick out right now and jerk himself stupid to Arts dumb smile. To his tall, lanky form walking naked to the showers. Wants to push him up against the shower wall and nut on his perky little bottom in front of all of their teammates so they all fucking know who he belongs to. He wants to stare at it while the shower water slowly rinses it off of him and it snakes down the drain. 

He runs the water cold in their dorm room and that helps. His dick relaxes but his balls are still achy. He meets Art in the mess hall. He’s doing okay. Even gets distracted enough by the conversation with their friends that it almost feels normal. Until Art brushes his fingers against Patrick’s thigh, then it’s back, bubbling up at full strength like it never left, his pants tight, bulge barely concealed.

When his girlfriend, Julie, sits on his other side a minute later he doesn’t really stand a chance. She’s talking bto him about her new Hello Kitty stickers, he doesn’t hear a word she says. He’s fixated on the pink of her bra just visible under her white t-shirt. She leans in for a kiss and Patrick thinks he might bust spontaneously right in the middle of dinner. 

He avoids her for the rest of the evening, trying his best not to test his resolve. It’s not like he’s never gone more than a day without it before. But it’s definitely never been planned and he’s always been able to take care of himself whenever the need arises. 

“So…” he says to Art when they’re back in the bedroom. 

“Mmhm,” Art says innocently. He yawns and stretches out like he’s tired. He probably is. They were up late and early but Patrick is a nerve.

“Are we gonna…fuck?”

Art presses his lips together and takes a breath. “I was just thinking…” he says shyly, “maybe we should sleep. We have practice in the morning and it’s just…a lot. Tomorrow though.”

“Tomorrow…” Patrick stares him down. Trying to catch any hint that Art is just fucking with him but if he is, he’s playing it straight. 

Patrick can feel it all night, coiled tight in his belly, so hot and sweet. Skin so warm he checks more than once to make sure the air conditioner is still working. Art is relaxed in his own bed, all sated and fast asleep. 

Patrick is irritated. It’s not like this is a binding contract. It’s not like Arts holding a fucking gun to his head to make him keep it in. Patrick could just… he could just… he traces his happy trail, fingers easing into his boxers, tangled in pubic hair settling just at the base….no…at this point it’s a competition. A challenge. A battle of wills. Something Patrick intends to win.

He balls his fists, flops onto his stomach and wraps his arms around his pillow. His heavy dick pressed up against the mattress, he falls into a fitful sleep.

Day two is day one on steroids. He wakes up rutting against the mattress, only to quickly push himself upright when he fully enters consciousness. It’s just moments before he’s about to bust. Arts curled up on his bed, watching him. Glassy eyes still coated with sleep. 

“You’re so pent up,” Art says softly. “So full.”

Patrick takes a breath. “No shit Sherlock. So uh today right… you said today. Right?” He sounds like an addict, desperate.

“Mmhm.”

“Now?”

“Mm,” Art sighs. “After practice? You can wait a little longer. I know you can.”

A little longer and Patrick’s going to lose his mind. They have practice all afternoon. It’s getting so bad that just the feeling of his t-shirt brushing against his skin has his balls tightening. The pressure of his shorts, his briefs, gently squeezing him, barely concealing him, he feels it all. His erection waxing and waning all throughout practice. 

Coach’s radio plays Relax by Frankie Goes to Hollywood while they’re running drills. It’s a coincidence (or a cosmic joke) but Art can’t help dissolving into a fit of laughter and actually ends up getting into trouble for it which Patrick is secretly pleased about. 

 Not that Patrick needs that. He could come to Let it Be by the Beatles at this point, which is what plays next.

He’s practically a shell of himself by evening time. Fully erect watching sports center and eating a burger while Arts at his desk working on some oh so important math project. “We can do it when I’m done. Okay?”

Okay… so Patrick’s pretending to watch sports center but he’s actually fixated on Arts bare leg bouncing idly as he’s hunched over his desk, chewing on his mechanical pencil. Frenetic energy in him, though nowhere near the level that’s racing through Patrick’s body.

Julie’s called him five times and he’s ignored every single one. Her texts to him growing increasingly frustrated. Hes probably gonna lose her but he can’t focus on that right now. It’s so funny— all it takes is a little bit of Arts attention and Patrick can’t pay attention to any one else. One little suggestion, not even a promise of something in return and he hasn’t touched himself to the point where he feels dizzy.

He clears his throat loudly. When Art remains distracted he does it again.

Art looks up like he’s just remembering Patrick’s there. “Are you okay?” He smiles and then glances at the tv. “I didn’t know you liked hockey.”

Patrick’s got no poker face left but he’s beyond caring. “I think I’m… I think I’m fucking loaded, can we—“ Patrick sighs. He’s so fucking eager. God. If Art asked him to get on his knees and beg like a puppy dog for it, he’d do it. 

Art licks his lips, cheeks beginning to flush. “I want to but…I’m so busy, can you wait… just a little longer?”

“P-please Art—“ Patrick swallows. “How much longer?”

“A little bit. I promise.”

“Fuck,” Patrick throws himself onto his back. He doesn’t know how long he lies there. Till he’s gone catatonic probably. Feels like a dream when finally Art crawls onto his bed.

“You’re so dramatic,” Art sighs, lying next to him.

“Oh fuck you,” Patrick says, no heat behind it as he rolls over to face him. 

Arts grinning at him. “I’m actually kinda impressed.” He cups his palm over Patrick’s dick and starts rubbing. 

Patrick’s fully hard in two strokes, and he’s frantic. pulling Art close and mashing their lips together. He’s grabbing at Arts clothing, at his own. Can’t get naked fast enough. Can’t get Art open fast enough. Lube coated fingers digging roughly into Arts creamy white thighs. Probably gonna leave marks but Patrick doesn’t care. He’s not focused on anything but getting himself off. 

He’s gripping Arts waist, Art gets to have control until Patrick loses his mind. Then Patrick’s manhandling him, pushing his dick inside all while Arts making sounds that would make a porn star blush. He can only fuck into him twice before he’s on the fucking brink. 

“This what you want?” Patrick gasps, jerking himself with one hand and rubbing Arts bottom with the other. “Can’t believe you walk around with this. Fuck.”

“Mm yes,” Art moans, pressing back against Patrick’s hand. And it’s a blessed relief when Patrick finally falls over the edge. Moaning through the best fucking orgasm of his life as string after string after string of come covers Arts bare bottom, the small of his back, his legs, his balls. Some of it even splashes up to his shoulder. Patrick’s wetting him up and he’s moaning for it, body squirming as Patrick paints him in it. 

“So fucking hot,” Art breathes, eager, like he cant get enough. Just makes Patrick feel even crazier about him. He was right actually… it’s a lot. A whole fucking lot. 

“Oh shit, ‘t's so warm,” Art breathes. He’s jerking himself off too, the soft pitter patter of it landing on Patrick’s sheets as he moans. 

Patrick is shaky, spent. he settles on his knees, breathlessly staring at his own handiwork glistening all over Art’s lithe body. Art stretches out on his stomach, reaching back to dip his fingers into a pool of it. “Mm sorry I made you wait for it.” Art sighs before licking his fingers.

Patrick settles on the bed next to him resting on his arms. “Actually now that it’s done… I kinda miss it.” He says.

“Really?” Art says.

“Mmhm. It was kinda hot. Feeling horny all the time.”

Art smirks. “Then I guess you wouldn’t mind doing it again… maybe for a week next time? Imagine it… It’ll be like opening a damn.”

“Sure,” Patrick says, snatching his pillow back from under Art, “As long as next time… you do it with me.”

(Idk, sorry so long lol)

[b2cute]

Tense

matt and fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n, fluff, pet names, that’s it enjoy :)

word count: idk

*y/ns pov*

I drop my bags almost immediately after entering the triplets house. It was finally the weekend and they, mostly Matt, invited me to spend the night after work. I wasted no time saying yes since I was free and find myself now heading up the stairs into their LA house. I throw my shoes off nearby the second case of stairs and walking to Matt’s bathroom to freshen up.

I figured they were all in their rooms doing their own thing so I decided to throw a movie on the couch as to not bother them. I across through netflix until a show caught my eye as I begin to watch.

*matts pov*

It’s been about two hours since y/n was supposed to be home and honestly, she was starting to worry me. She hasn’t entered my room at all or contacted me. Ending the livestream, I head over to the kitchen to grab my phone and call her when I see an arm with painted acrylics hanging from the white plush couch.

I smiled to myself and headed over to see y/n sprawled out on top of the pillows in what seemed like the most uncomfortable position known to man. “Y/n, y/n sweetheart come to my room it’s freezing out here” I whisper in an attempt to soothe her already furrowed eyebrows. “What?” She questions, rubbing her eyes with her hands and lifting herself off the couch. She immediately winces from the pain in her back. “Let’s go sweet girl, I’ll take care of you just get changed and go lay in bed” I whisper, leaning over to plant a short but sweet kiss on her lower cheek.

With that y/n gets up from bed and heads over to my room while I tidy up the living room and take her phone to place on the charger. I head over to the kitchen fill up a cold glass of water how she likes it and shuffle into the bedroom.

The lights were dim with my computer screen flashing white, and the black silk covers were hidden with y/n on top of them. I make my way over to the monitor and shut the computer down as I change out of my clothes, leaving my boxers on. I look over to see y/n tensed up on the bed with a distressed expression painted on her tired face. “What’s bothering you, my love? Talk to me” I say as I climb into the bed hovering over her. “My back, it’s hurting from god knows what” she replies. My heart aches to see her in pain. Whenever I’m sick she calls out of work to take care of me, and here I was feeling helpless. “Oh baby” I whisper leaning to give her a light hug where she tenses up even more under my touch.

After a moment of holding y/n, an idea pops up in my head. “Baby, can you lay on your stomach for me please?” I ask, my face bright from the idea. Confused, y/n turns around nonetheless and rests on her stomach, her head turned to the right facing Matt. “Okay, this might hurt at first but then it’s going to feel good, I promise” I reassure and I slowly straddle my poor girl.

“Matt, what are you doing, I’m not in the mood” She rolls her eyes and lets out a soft chuckle. “No, baby, not what you think we’re doing just close your eyes and relax— here” I hand her the remote lying next to my pillow, “play some music that will soothe you.

Y/n lets out a soft sigh as she hits a playlist with some of her favorite songs, the first one being my personal favorite too. I let out a content hum and I place my hands and the hem of her hoodie and slowly lift it, careful not to hurt her.

I get up momentarily to grab some moisturizer and come back to see y/n almost drifting to sleep once again. I return to straddle her, resting my weight on her butt to not hurt her, and sink. I begin to lather the moisturizer and carefully carefully spread it through her back.

Y/n tenses up again and furrows her eyebrows, as a way of saying “Too rough.” I quickly stop my tracks and go light as I begin on her lower back, kneading the muscles and massaging them. “Baby, you’re so tight, what’s been bothering you” I question, she shrugs before responding. “I can’t pinpoint exactly what it is, work has been overwhelming, not living with my mom and dad anymore, it’s just starting to get to me a bit, you know?” her response was just a little bit louder than the music behind us “Yes, baby, of course, I understand, moving to LA with Chris and Nick was the last thing I expected to happy to me, but look at here we are, as long as you’re happy with the decisions you make, there should be no reason for you to feel stressed about it, and don’t bottle it up and take it out on yourself, please come talk to me right away, my love” I reassure her and I move my hands up to the middle of her back. She lets out a soft nod and smiles as I work my hands into a circular motion, getting all the knots and undoing them.

After five minutes or so, y/n starts to relax her shoulders, perfect for me to reach over and massage them myself. She lets out a breath that’s been held and immediately relaxes under my touch, for the first time today. As I smile to myself. I bend over to kiss her on the back of her neck, hugging her from behind.

We stayed like this for a while, drifting off to sleep when a loud bang was heard from the kitchen. I quickly sit up, causing y/n to return to consciousness. “What was that” she asks, her voice groggy. “I’ll go check baby,” I say as I crawl out of the bed, the blanket never leaving us.

I head over to the kitchen, annoyed, as I stare at Chris and Nick laughing their asses off. “What’s so hilarious you had to be this loud” I groan, still half-asleep. They just stared at each other momentarily before laughing again, Nick holding onto the counter for stability while Chris cried. “It's just this—” again cut off by more laughing. I glare at the two until I notice the grip of Chris’s phone and a silhouette of my bed displayed. I walk over there and snatch the phone from Chris’s hand, only to see a picture of me and y/n asleep.

I bite back a laugh as I roll my eyes in annoyance, turning to my room. “You guys are ridiculous” I yawn, and all you can hear is their snickers fading away.

I enter the dim room to see y/n perched up against the headboard, her phone in her hand. “Everything alright, Matt?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “Everything’s fine, baby, let’s just go back to sleep please” I groan, my voice was becoming tired and my eyelids were fighting to stay open. “I’m energized and my back feels amazing. Come here let me make you feel better” she grins, steering and opening her arms.

I waste no time practically jumping onto the bed. I bring my head onto y/n’s chest, my cheeks resting on her breast and my legs on top of hers. My arms snake around her waist and my eyes shut due to the lack of sleep I've had. “Get some rest, pretty boy” she whispers. Y/n’s hand played with my messy hair as she reached over to plant a kiss on my forehead. “Mm- love you” I mumble before finally resting, safe in y/n's arms.

The end hoes 😜

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @mattsleftnipple03 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @lacysturniolo @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962

[kuroshioi]

Honkai Star Rail men and their kinks Part 1

Warning: basically their kinks, rare mention of reader, reader doesn't have a specific gender here, I have 0 grammar skills

Characters: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng

mdni

Jing Yuan

Bondage

Likes putting you on a leash and tugging on it to make you look at him while he fucks you and cuffing your wrists with cold iron chains to leave you helpless at his mercy (god that's hot).

Humiliation kink

He is not so overboard with it, he barely does that infact, he just likes calling you names like "slut" or "my pretty little whore" as long as you are comfortable.

Dacryphilia

Loves seeing tears in your eyes because it reminds him just how much he can make you scream and moan in pleasure and the fact its all because of him boosts his ego alot.

Praise kink

His biggest kink, can't help but say "good girl..doing so well for me" to you and many other praises for taking him and his thrusts so well.

Blade

Dacryphilia

Another guy who likes this kink except its one of his biggest kinks and he will gladly admit it, likes seeing it because you look really pretty crying for his cock.

sadism

Might like inflicting small pain on your body by biting your neck roughly or anything like that but as long you are ok with it because despite his attitude he likes what he does as long as his darling likes it too.

BDSM

Punishing you for talking to someone he is jealous of? Edging you as you scream in pleasure? Making you submit your body and yourself to him? He is all in for it.

Dan Heng

Somnophilia

As long you have given the consent and are comfortable only then he will do it. "Oh..darling, f-fuck you look so pretty while sleeping like that.." he doesn't know how to feel about it as it's embarrasing and if you tease him about it well, he won't really talk to you for a whole day.

Praise kink

Is a sucker for praising you since its quite hard for one to get used to his size. Always there to praise and encourage you with "good job..y-yeah so fucking good" unable to stop unless you tell him too lmao

Breeding kink

Has a thing for it but super embarrassed about it, likes saying stuff like "one day..I will breed you with my children and make you mine forever" during spicy times.

Author's note: damn never knew I could write but eh anyways it might be bad too so idk

Headers and dividers are not mine.

[lilaccmilk]

Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Werewolf?

Pairing: Werewolf Boyfriend x Human!Reader Warnings: idk werewolf? shitty description of shifting into a werewolf. A/N: Now I know I said I'll make an OC, but I'm too indecisive to pick a name. Please send me name ideas for my OC.

You heard the door open and checked the time '11 pm'. You sigh feeling helpless. Your boyfriend has started coming home late, or sometimes staying cooped up in his room refusing to come out. This has been going on for a month, since the camping trip you went to with him and your friends.

Truth be told, at first when he started coming late you felt as if he was doing something behind your back. But his behaviour and mood keeps fluctuating. Sure he becomes aggressive. Very aggressive. But not towards you, god no, he could never be aggressive towards you. Either he's very clingy and needy, or just pulls away from you.

Not only that but he's gotten warmer. His voice has turned more.....deep. And he has a bit of a growl in his voice. He's gotten a bit taller, muscular. His teeth feel like they're sharper. In all honesty, he has started to feel like one of the creatures in a monster fucking blog. But you try to tell yourself that you must be imagining things. Sure you're delusional, but not that delusional.

Today was one of those days where he was feeling clingy towards you. You were lying on the couch, with your boyfriend partially on top of you, his head resting on your chest. When suddenly he looked up at you.

"Hey....love?" he started to speak. "Hmm?"

"I have a question....Would you still love me if i was a w-"

"Worm?" you cut him off with amusement in your eyes.

"Huh? a worm?" He blinked.

"Yeah, weren't you going to ask me if I'd still love you if you were a worm."

"No. What kind of stupid question is that? Wait nevermind. Let me rephrase....what do you think about werewolves?"

You stared at him, your thoughts going haywire ⎯ 'Why did he ask me that? Did he find out about my monster fucking blog? Did he go through my tumblr? Wait is that why he's getting distant.' ⎯ amidst the chaos in your head you managed to croak out "I uh...like to believe they're real. If it's about that werewolf blog I run, it's just fiction...right? Like you know, werewolves don't exist. It's like writing for a fictional character. If it bothers you I'll stop. I should have-" you get cut off by him kissing you.

"I um....well it might sound crazy. So let me show you instead of telling you." He stands up and then closes his eyes. You look at him in anticipation and feel the energy shift in the room, you notice him opening his eyes that have darkened. His bones start to break and stick out in directions they're not meant to stick out. His height grows and he starts snarling. After what feels like an eternity, you're face to face werewolf that is around 7 feet. Well not exactly face to face since he towers over you.

He then shifts back and now you're looking at your very human boyfriend again. You're too awestruck to do or say anything. And then, you squeal. In delight. This catches your boyfriend off-guard and he just tilts his head in confusion. You hug him, full force.

"Does this mean you're fine with me being a werewolf?" he asks tentatively.

"I love you for who you are, not for your appearance. And your werewolf side is still you. I'll always love you." you say with a grin.

"I'm glad I have you. And what was that about writing for werewolves? I'd love to hear about your fantasies love." he says with a teasing grin, but you know he was serious about knowing your fantasies. You're in for a long night.

[adams-angels]

ÓHi, could you smut Adam x fem Reader he has sex with Lucifer's wife

💖 I can certainly try! I had alot of fun writing this one idk why? I think I went slightly off topic but hopefully it's okay!💖

Revenge 😈

Adam X Lucifers wife!reader

💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖

Smut below the cut! Minors dni

Extermination day. Every year it's the same. Your husband always disappears a week leading up to the events and then a week after. You're already lonely since he spends most of his time making ducks. It was cute at first and now it's just annoying. You want attention. Any kind will do at this point.

You walk out onto the balcony looking down on the carnage that's destroying hell. You see a sinner nearby. "Oh, hello! Come inside you'll be sa-" a spear pierces through the being. "Shit." You grumble to yourself, leaning on the railing. "Awh, don't look so glum, slut." You didn't know why but he always visited. He'd always tease you about being alone the most dangerous time of year.

You roll your eyes at the voice. "hello, Adam." Groaning as you look up to the giant in mid flight. "What's up, babe? Luci left you alone and helpless another extermination day?" His obnoxious smile covers his face as he hovers above her. You push yourself off from the balcony railing, crossing your arms as your glare at him. "I'm not "helpless" Adam." You declare. It's true, you survived many extermination days before you married Lucifer.

"oh? What's stopping me from killing you right now then?" Adam asked, he thought he was so smart. "I don't know," you shrug. "why don't you tell me? I'm leaving myself wide open here, yet you're just..." You gesture to his body in flight. "There." He blinked. You could tell his little man brain was going into over time trying to find an excuse. "How abou- you just- argh!" He swoops down placing his hands on the railing, facing now inches apart. "Why don't you just fuck off and die!" He yelled. "Why don't you do your job and kill me?" You replied with a smirk.

He growled. "Won't your little friends be like, pissy, that you're sparing me?" You tilt your head with a smirk. "Won't your little husband be like, pissy?" You were confused. What did he mean by that? Before you knew it he closed the gap between you both and kissed you. Nothing fancy, a quick peck. He pushed himself away, both of you stared at each other like a deer in headlights.

You were only brought back to reality when Adam screamed and flapped his wings, blowing wind in your face. "AHH! FUCK YOU! WHORE- DIRTY FUCKIN- DIE, BITCH! I HATE YOU!" He yelled as he flew away, tripping on nothing as he headed back into the blood filled city. You touch your lips. Did that really just happen?

You head back into your marital bedroom. "What the fuck.." you mutter to yourself. You want to feel guilty, you really do. Lucifer is a good husband, but to be touched.. kiss. Fuck. From that moment on Adam consumed your thoughts. You longed for the next extermination day.

The year dragged. You just wanted to see Adam again. You wanted to fluster him. But the day was the day. You dressed up for it. God, it was sick you were excited for this disgusting day but it would be the only time you see him. Putting on your best little black dress you head to the balcony and wait.

The heavens open so it was only a matter of time before he'd come. At least you hoped. The day went on, you heard the screams, the pleading, the cries. All day. You usually last a couple of hours but all day was a bit much. You kicked nothing on the floor, frustrated that you let yourself believing he would return to you. You were a sinner. That's all he ever saw you as, that's all you ever will be to him.

You open the door to return to the bedroom but freeze. "Sup, sugartits." Adam. He wasn't sounding insufferable as usual. "What? Missed me?" Your turn to face him. He was right by the railing. His cocky smile was a cover up, that much you could tell. You step closer and slap him, hard. Good thing you're not a fallen angel other wise his mask would or cracked. "Hey! What the fuck was that for, bitch?!" He yelled in your face. In response you grab his collar kissing him, aggressively.

"I want you." You tell him, asserting your dominance. "O-okay.." his response surprisingly timid. You take his hand and lead him inside to your bed. Turning around a photo of Lucifer. "Yeah, that'll help with the guilt." Adam teased with a smirk, his narcissistic tone returning. "Shut up." You hiss, climbing on top of him, straddling his lap. "Mask off." "How did you kno-" "I'm not dumb, dickweed. Off."

He peels off his mask, he's a lot more handsome than you thought he was, still had that fucking grin. You move into his neck, gently kissing to gauge a reaction. You feel his member hardening underneath you. "You ready to get fucked by the first dick created, babe?"

"you know technically you're not the first dick created. You're the first human dick, sure but not the fi-" you're interrupted by his tongue down your throat. "Maybe shut up, yeah?" He mumbled in the kiss. Your tongues explored each others, as he gripped onto your hips lifting you up slightly to remove your panties to discover you're not wearing any. Pulling away from the kiss "Really? Someone's desperate?" He peppered your neck in kissed. "S-shut it."

He snaked his arms around your waist and flipped you into the bed. He towered over you. Why did God have to make the first man so tall? Hell, who are you to question?! You like it. You help him take off his robe and admire his body. It's pudgier than you were expecting, but you're not complaining. "Like what you see, sweet?"

He returned to your neck, his tongue travels from your ear down your collar bone to your chest then your nipple. Circling his tongue around it as his hardens. Taking it aggressively in his mouth as his hand travels down your body. Two of his fingers separate your folds while his middle finger prods your entrance. You can't help but gasp at his touch. He knows what he's doing.

As he inserts a single digit in your expectant cunt you can't help but reach for his hair, tugging at his locks. A grunt escapes from him. Slowly he fingers you, using his thumb to gently rub your clit. "Ah- Adam~!" You quietly moan. He releases your nipple and looks up at your desperate face. "Oh, fuck yeah, baby. Say my name." He inserts a second finger inside of you. Curling his fingers up, hitting your stop just right.

"m-more!" You demand. "What did I say?" He Purrs. "M-more, please- Adam, fuck me, please?" You beg, desperate for his cock. "Good girl." He removed his hand which causes you to whine. He adjusts himself between your legs with a smug grin. "W-what? Why do you look like that." You ask, you weren't even sure if you wanted the answer.

"just revenge is so fucking sweet, babe." He doesn't waste anymore time and thrusts himself inside of you. One hand on your waist, gripping so tightly it will leave a mark. "Fuckin' hell, ngh- y/n.." he grunts. It didn't take long before you were biting down on your arm trying to keep the noise to a minimum. He grabbed your wrist pulling it away from your mouth. "Scream for me, baby. Let everyone hear how much you love my cock." It didn't take long until you were screaming in pleasure, he threw your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle on your g-spot. He used on of his hand to hold your hip to get as deep inside of you as he could. His other hand was rubbing your clit. "A-adam, I'm close!" You exclaimed. "Then what you w-waiting for? Cum on my cock, babe." He fucked you harder not giving your a chance to lose your incoming climax. You pull yourself up, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as your walls contracted on his member. Bringing him closer to the edge. His arms wrapped around you as he continued to fuck you with mercy. "T-tell me you love me." He said. "What?" You were taken back by his request. "Tell me you love me! TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!" He repeated as his voice became more desperate. His hips bucked and his movements became sloppy as he finished inside of you. Collapsing on top of you on the bed.

His face in the nook of your neck once again. "So.... "Tell me you love me", huh?" His only reply is a groan of embarrassment.

～⁠♡✧⁠｡ I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! ｡✧⁠♡～⁠

[illubean]

Hi can I get a nsfw scenario where Chrollo gently seduces the reader during her first time and discovers she has a praise kink? I feel like this man would be literal god tier to have

Gentle Praise

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer Type: NSFW, Oneshot, Fem!Reader, College!au because I'm a sucker for scholar Chrollo

mueheheh >:) reader is a lil shy and awko taco in this but not like cringe stereotypcial "omg im so shyy >.<" type also this ended up being super long thus turning a scenario into a full fic oopsies

Warnings: maybe ooc Chrollo idk, mentions of alcohol, he calls y/n princess a few times, praise (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), reader discretion is advised

Chrollo isn't quite sure how you ended up in a setting like this. You were a pretty little thing with a look so elegant you look almost out of place at one of Uvo's rowdy house parties.

The bright LEDs, loud music and cheap beers didn't seem like your kind of scene. But there was no way for Chrollo to know that for sure.

You stood off to the side near the snack table, slowly nursing your cup of jungle juice that you didn't care much for. You had only taken it from your friend since you felt rude to turn it down. Said friend of yours was currently having the time of their life. They were plastered, dancing through the crowd of bodies and mingling with other drunk partygoers.

You're not too sure why you even came to this party. You much preferred small gatherings, and you don't even like alcohol all that much. You sighed, awkwardly scanning the room until your eyes met a pair of onyx orbs. They belonged to a face you knew all too well.

Chrollo Lucilfer.

He was a year or so older than you, a psychology major. You've seen him around campus and even though he was well known for mostly good reasons, your friends still teased you for finding him attractive. Perhaps you had stared at him for a bit too long though, seeing as a smirk made its way onto his face as he got up to approach you.

You panicked a little, looking around awkwardly seeking a quick escape. You placed your cup down but before you could flee, a voice came from in front of you.

"Hey Y/n."

Oh my god he knows my name.

You managed to spit out a response, feeling your hands get clammy as you looked into his eyes. You were completely and utterly helpless. This man managed to reduce you to nothing but a nervous, sweaty mess simply by just existing. It was kind of pathetic.

But the man responsible didn't think so. Chrollo thought it was cute how awkward you got, not being able to hold eye contact and wiping your hands on your clothes. He was no fool, and he knew exactly what effect he had on you. As a matter of fact he had this effect on quite a few people, though none of them stood out to him like you did.

He would be lying if he said he'd never thought of you in a romantic setting before. You were a cute (your choice) major who he often seen walking around with Machi. From what he's seen, you're not so much of a partier and prefer to focus on your actual studies than crazy frat gatherings. Maybe your more mellow and reserved nature is what drew him towards you.

"I didn't peg you as the party type," he says, breaking you from your previous daze.

"Oh, I'm not. My friend over there dragged me here."

You pointed into the crowd towards said friend, who was currently standing on top of a coffee table, a bottle of some sort of strong liquor in hand as the people around them cheered them on.

Note to self: make sure they get home safe

Chrollo chuckled at the deadpan look on your face after you saw how drunk your friend really was.

"Seems like they're having fun. Why don't we sneak off somewhere more quiet?"

You felt the tip of your ears burn at his offer before quickly nodding as he led the way.

Leaving the loud, hot and crowded living room AND spending time alone with Chrollo? Score!

He took one of your hands into his own, placing the other on the small off your back, leading you past all of the other partygoers and up a flight of stairs. He led you into a rather plain room, shutting the door before letting go of your hand and flopping down to lay on the bed.

"Is it ok that we're in here?" you ask, not wanting to disrespect someone else's house.

"This is my friend Shalnark's room but he's rarely ever home. I crash here sometimes so I don't think he minds."

At his words you hesitantly and awkwardly sit on the corner of the bed, facing away from Chrollo. You had no clue what to do now. The both of you were silent for a while, the light thump of the distant music being the only thing disturbing the atmosphere.

After a few moments pass, Chrollo sits up and moves closer to you, leaning in order to make eye contact.

"You don't have to be so awkward around me, y'know? I don't bite. Unless you want me to."

You look away in an attempt to hide your embarrassment from the man before you, who only chuckles and grabs both of your hands.

"You get flustered so easily, how adorable."

One of his hands reaches up to the side of your face to turn you towards him. His beautiful onyx orbs were glazed over in what you could only describe as a mix of admiration and lust.

Oh.

Chrollo began leaning closer, you doing the same. Naturally, your eyes started to close as the two of you got closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then he stopped.

You sat there in anticipation for a moment but nothing came. You opened your eyes and furrowed your brows in confusion, only to find Chrollo already staring back at you with a small smile on his face.

"Is this okay?"

You gave him a frantic nod, a quiet yet rushed 'yes' leaving your mouth. At the confirmation the man pressed a searing kiss into your lips, gently caressing the apple of your cheek as you reached your arms out to embrace him.

His touch was gentle, yet burning with the passion of a thousand suns as he led you to lay across the bed. His large hands slipped underneath your shirt, softly caressing your lower back and waist as he continued his assault on your mouth.

You whimper softly into the heated kiss, feeling your skin practically burn where his body came in contact with yours. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you breathless as he carefully removes both your shirt and bra.

Chrollo takes a moment to take in the sight of you, panting and topless beneath him. He swore he would brand this image into the back of his mind for the rest of his days, never wanting to forget how beautiful you were in this very moment.

"God, you're gorgeous."

His hands begin roaming your body once again as he planted searing, open mouth kisses along your neck and collarbone. You couldn't help but writhe under his touch, soft but needy noises leaving your lips. His words had an affect so strong on you that was unexpected.

Chrollo's hand trailed down the front of your body, slipping underneath the waistband of your panties. Two off his fingers gently prodded at your entrance, before trailing back up to swirl around your clit. You clenched your thighs with a gasp, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

"Who knew my pretty girl would be so sensitive," he coos. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you."

A violent shiver shot down your spine and into your core. God, if he kept talking like this you might just be able to cum from his words alone. You whimpered, arms tightening around him to pull him impossibly close. He chuckled sofly, planting a few kisses across your face before pulling away completely.

Before you could whine in protest, Chrollo pulled off the clothing left on your bottom half. He settled himself between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he faced your glistening heat. He looked up at your through his eyelashes before speaking again.

"You doing alright, princess?"

You nodded, face flushed at the nickname. But this didn't seem to be enough of a response for Chrollo.

"You're going to have to use your words, beautiful."

"Yes! God, yes just please...continue."

He chuckles at your desperation before licking a long, slow stripe up your pussy. This draws a trembled moan out of you, which only egged him on further. He buried his face impossibly deep into your cunt, going down on you like a man starved while you reached down to grip his hair. He eased two of his fingers into you as your body writhed with pleasure.

He pulls away from you momentarily, eyes flicking between the sight of his lithe fingers plunging into you and the flushed expression across your face. He felt your walls flutter around him which caused him to smirk up at you.

"You're getting close, aren't you? Go ahead, make a mess for me."

He dove back into your core, determined to make you cum. His lewd words sent you over the edge, having brought you to your first climax of the night. He sits up, making eye contact with you as he licks your juices off of his two digits.

He crawled back up the mattress so now you were both face to face, arms bracing himself on either side of your head to keep himself above you. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him down to meet you in a heated kiss. You could care less that the taste of yourself lingered on his lips. All you could think about is how Chrollo is all yours right now.

After kissing you for a few moments longer, he pulls away from you to hastily remove his clothes. Your eyes followed his movements, starting at his toned chest and moving down his abs. There was a light happy trail that peeked out above the waist band of his boxers. Finally, he hooks his fingers beneath it and drags them down his hips and oh.

He was huge.

Your eyes widened as you took in all of Chrollo's naked glory, his pretty cock standing thick and girthy. His balls sat below it, heavy and full.

How the hell would that ever fit?

The man you had been gawking at chuckles before gently prodding your entrance with his fat tip.

"Don't worry, you can take it. I know you can."

Your heart pulsed at this, heat rising to your cheeks as you look away from him, embarassed.

"Nervous, sweetheart?"

He leaned down closer to you to plant a reassuring kiss on your cheek, trailing them down your neck and along your collarbone.

"...this is my first time," you admit bashfully, moaning at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"I'll just have to take extra care of you then."

He pushes himself into you, the plush walls of your heat stretching to wrap around him. He continues to kiss you through it as you pull your bodies impossibly close to each other. After sheathing himself completely into your pussy he begins to trust into you, slow and sensual.

He only picks up the pace after feeling your body relax, his thick shaft stretching you deliciously well and hitting all the right spots deep within you.

"God, you're perfect. It's like this pussy was made for me," he grunts, fucking himself into you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

It didn't take long for Chrollo to reduce you to nothing but a moaning, babbling mess. Not only could he lay pipe like no one's business, but his praising words sent you to heights you didn't know you could ever possibly reach. You felt your eyes well up with tears as you felt your climax approach for the second time that night.

"Chrollo, 'm gonna-"

Your words were cut off with the sound of your own moan, feeling Chrollo's dick brush against your g-spot. Your pussy quivers and clenches around him, sucking him back in every time he pulls away.

"Wait for me, sweetheart. Just a little longer, okay?"

You whine, digging your nails into his shoulder blades as he speeds up and fucks you with newfound vigor. You couldn't hold back any longer, a white hot flash hitting you like an ocean wave as you cried out Chrollo's name. The man cursed, feeling you clamp around him impossibly tight, bringing him to his climax as well.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, prompting him to burry himself deep in your womb. His cum floods your pussy, making you feel impossibly fullwhile you pant, coming down from your previous high. You let go of him, body going limp against the mattress, absolutely fucked out.

Chrollo pulls out slowly, watching his seed drip from your weeping cunt, breathing heavily at the sight of you. You press your hand against your bloated tummy, causing more of his cum to spill out of you. His cock twitches as this, and he wastes no time in mounting you again.

"I'm not done with you yet, gorgeous."

may or may not have gotten carried away with this OOPSIESSSS ;p

[sanemisstalker]

no matter how much dick I get... the urge to do vile things to this man will always prevail

NSFW MINORS DNI - AFAB/GN REFFERED READER - HEAD - TOXIC MASCULINITY (Belief that a penis is needed to make a man) - Sanemi with a CANNIBALISM/DIETY kink? Idk I got a little frisky with the head talk. - He begs for help at one point. HYPER CONSENT.

NEEDY FOR HEAD - WITH SANEMI

-'I don't like it when you get- lower like that. Makes my teeth ache. I feel like you're gonna... bite it off.'

-You're a little offended by the implication. Sure you're a little weird and off putting, but fuck all, you weren't REALLY gonna bite Sanemi's cock off when it came to it.

-You sigh.

-This little fit of his had been going on for a while, now. Sure you can get head all you want, but lord forbid YOU want to GIVE. Lord forbid YOU want to SATISFY.

-'It's not funny anymore.'

-'Wasn't ever trying to be funny.' he spits in turn.

-'Then I'd like an unfunny answer.'

-'I'm being serious, damn! It feels like my balls are gonna go up when you're down there! Why don't you believe me?!'

-Sanemi had never been very explicit about his wants. Keeping your laugh to yourself was a little hard at such a question. Sanemi's face blared red in response.

-'That's it! I'm putting my cl-'

-You lept for him, pulling him back down to the bed. You forgot you had to be kind, and slow. Sanemi never really had the kind of face that begged for such things, but that was part of the problem. Sanemi never really liked to beg.

-'No! NO! I'm sorry- it's not funny, it's- Sanemi, you know how often this happens.' He stilled, more than a little tense at the accusation. 'You are- I know it's hard, but... biting it off?'

-'Y-Yes.' He'd huff. 'I- it just feels weird.'

-'Bad weird, scary we-'

-'Like I'm going to... Embarass myself weird.'

-Your silence followed, and then Sanemi turned even further away from you. He was unwilling to pull his hand from your grasp in an effective way. Instead resorting to a very feeble wiggle and slight whine.

-'Let me go.' He mumbled.

-'No way! No way-' You rush, tugging him down to the bed. You pull him against you. He seems to soften as your breasts press into his forearm. 'That doesn't sound all that bad.'

-Sanemi would rather die. The thought of him... letting go so... early. So explicitly at your will, so weak and helpless, his only call to manhood left in the fight of your biting maw-

-Part of it excited him, he figured. But he didn't figure that deep. If he did, he'd know this and that about submission, and maybe the light sense of masochism that made the concept all that more thrilling.

-Maybe it scared him a little knowing you could hurt him there if you wanted to, and maybe he got a little hard when he got scared. Maybe Sanemi missed being scared,

-When you talk him into it, he's most reluctant to see your teeth, but you let him play with the connection between his tip and your tongue. Giving him all the power to pull away when it just gets too much.

-Your tastes buds are far different from the ribbing of your pussy. They're delicate, and you have far more control over that muscle, so when you take Sanemi fully in your mouth, he's flung to the bed.

-He's seeing god, he thinks. He can almost imagine your jaw clamping down, taking it all away from him, keeping it for yourself.

-He's enthralled by how willing he is. By how bad he wants it to be all yours. How delusional he is for thinking you'd even think this way. This is simply an act of pleasure to you, but one of Divinity to him. This is God, for he, such a simple man, cannot grasp the eccentricities of religion when they are found anywhere other than the beads of spit between his base and your lips.

-He begins sobbing, almost hoping you'll make it stop. He can't feel this good, he can't know the world feels this good. How cruel to send him back to war when he's knows the sound of a song birds throat.

-He's a head pusher. He can't help it. He feels too good, he's blacking out half way through, which isn't very long. Not at all, practically convulsing on the bed.

-'Oh!- Ah--- Y/N- Oh- God- God- Ah!' And all the ooh's and aah's as he cums sobbing down your throat.

-It's enough to spill out of your lips, and find its way back to his pubes, all covered in your spit and snot. And he's breathing heavy and shaking still because god knows that cock never really gets to cum it all away- those balls can never truly be empty.

-'Oh- god- god- help- help-' He's choking, grabbing his face to brush the tears away.

-You're a little dumbfounded. You're not sure what the fuss is, but you're excited to try deep throating him for the first time. That'll probably make him die or something, he might die-

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Okay...idk if it's dumb but

How about a Flirty Villain who everyone thought was dead comes back possessive of The Hero, and crashes their Celebration Party elegantly

A Flirty Villain x Hesitant/Flustered Hero

In A Masquerade Ball

"Is that one of your exes?" the hero's friend asked. Although their voice was full of judgement, they also seemed to be intrigued. The hero stared at them, frowning, and couldn't explain to themselves why on earth they would invite an ex of theirs to their celebration party.

Being promoted was a big deal - not only the salary was important, no, the hero also had a lot more responsibilities and they would never give anyone the chance to ruin this moment.

"I mean, they are definitely your type. Who the hell is that?" Their friend took a sip of their own drink and the hero simply followed their gaze.

They thought their friend was talking about some coworker they had forgotten to introduce but when they saw the person they were actually talking about, their mouth went dry.

It was the villain.

In flesh and blood.

The hero almost let their glass of champagne fall to the ground. It was their enemy among all those people. It was their enemy who stood there and talked and laughed with the hero's mother.

They were supposed to be dead. They had been declared dead. The hero had seen them dead.

Blood rushed into their head. This wasn't real. They had to be someone else. Some clone or someone who could change appearances. The villain had died months ago.

The hero had held their cold body. They had tried CPR for minutes.

"Oh, is it a secret ex I don't know about?" their friend joked and when the hero looked at them for the fraction of a second, they saw them wiggling with their eyebrows.

"No, not exactly." Their eyes were fixed on their nemesis again obsessively, as if they could turn into air any second.

The hero downed the drink.

"Well, your mother seems to like them." The hero's friend elbowed them. "But I can take care of it if you don't want them here. It's your party, so if you don't want to deal with-"

"No," the hero said a little too quick. Their eyes were still on the villain and their elegant outfit. With a sweet smile on their face and, oh God, that little habit of tilting their head when someone asked a question. The hero felt like throwing up.

It embarrassed them, even though they knew it shouldn't. But they had been in therapy for the last months. Mainly because they couldn't deal with the villain's death. They had spent months to come to terms with their own mistakes and feelings towards the villain.

It had been hell. And now, they were supposed to stand there and simply talk to their mother?

"I'll sort this out. Do you mind?" They handed their glass to their friend and took a few shaky steps forward.

"Hey, wait." Their friend's hand was on their shoulder before the hero could come very far. "This is your party. Don't let anyone ruin it for you, got it?"

The hero looked at their friend and let the words sink in. They had hoped to have fun tonight and celebrate their achievement. But this was truly something they couldn't just ignore. If someone else was impersonating the villain as a cruel joke, they would pay for it and if this truly was the villain...the hero didn't really know what they were going to do if that was the case.

They could barely nod. Their heart was beating up into their throat. All their progress seemed to have been for absolutely nothing. They felt stupid. They felt so dumb.

"Again, if you want me to-"

"No," the hero said. It was softer this time. "Thank you, though."

They turned around and pushed themselves past other guests, giving polite smiles and muttering apologies under their breath as people shouted their congratulations towards them. It didn't feel like an achievement. It felt like the hero had taken ten steps back.

They felt so helpless again, just like all these months ago when the villain had whispered their last words. I adore you, they had said to them. It seemed like a bad joke.

It was a horrible feeling. A truly awful pain in their chest.

But eventually, they came to a stop in front of the villain and their mother. They cleared their throat.

"Pardon, but..." And then, just like that, the villain's eyes were on them again. Just like before - the same color, the same shape, the same lashes. If someone was impersonating them, it was a really good replica.

The hero's heart dropped.

"Sweetheart!" their mom chirped. "You never introduced me to your friend."

She gestured towards the villain and the hero wanted to slap them.

Their smile was the same crooked thing and their eyes were still as observant as ever. They looked totally fine - without the broken leg and without all of that blood on them. They tilted their head.

"Don't tell me I'm your little secret, hm?" the villain asked, their voice as suave as always.

The hero's heartbeat was skyrocketing. They hadn't heard that voice in months. They hadn't, they hadn't-

"I'm sorry," the hero said. They swallowed. "I must have forgotten...I must have forgotten to introduce you."

Their mother laughed and put a hand on the villain's bicep, as if they were two acquaintances.

"They are so lovely, listen: they told me this hilarious story about that one time the both of you-"

"I'm sorry, mom." The hero's voice was shaking but their mom had already finished a glass full of champagne and had been talking to someone...very pleasant. She didn't notice how heartbroken the hero was. "But could I borrow them? It'll be just a second."

The hero reached for the villain's elbow and when they touched them they were, indeed, very real. A chill went down the hero's spine and they had to swallow that horrible lump in their throat.

For whatever reason, the villain put their hand on the hero's, yet their eyes were on the hero's mother, expecting an answer. It was eerie enough already. The hero was fighting an upcoming panic attack anyway.

"Oh, of course. Go ahead, darling," she said, giggling. Their mother finished her drink, petted the villain's shoulder and ran after a waiter to get more drinks. The hero didn't hesitate and pulled the villain with them.

They were so angry that they were shaking.

"Let me tell you, your mother is such a lovely lady..." the villain purred. They let their arm snake around the hero's back until they let their hand rest on the hero's hip. "...but I was secretly hoping for you to come over. I can't stand it when so many people are gawking at you."

"I-" No words came out of their mouth. The hero had to get out of this room. They had to leave, they had to go.

Eventually, they dragged the villain into an empty hallway and pushed them against the wall but the villain held them close, so that the hero bumped into them. Blind with rage, the hero pushed themselves off.

"You-" Oh, Christ. The hero was crying. They couldn't keep it in anymore. Even through their blurry vision, they could see that the villain's flirty gaze vanished.

"Hey, woah, calm down. Please, I didn't mean to embarrass you back there," the villain said. They raised their hands and tried to touch the hero but they slapped their hands away. The dull sounds of the party echoed in the hallway.

"Embarrass me?! You fucking idiot, you dumb fucking asshole," they sobbed. Their heart was racing so fast, the hero feared it was going to jump out of their ribcage. "You died. You died seven months ago and I broke your ribs to start your heart again and you said you adored me and that you - you said to me that we would meet in another life again and I had to go to a fucking therapist to get my shit together and I thought about you every day and I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I..."

They took in a deep breath but it didn't really matter. Tears were running down their cheeks and they couldn't look at the villain.

"I'm sorry. Please, I am so sorry," the villain said. They took a step towards the hero. "I can explain everything to you. I didn't fake my death and I didn't-"

"I don't care," the hero lied. They squeezed their eyes shut. Maybe replacing their sadness with anger would make this easier. Although their therapist had suggested not to bury any feelings, the hero exchanged sadness with anger, overwrote a protocol in the back of their mind and swallowed the tears. Their words were sharp and they couldn't even take themselves seriously. They felt bad for it. They felt bad for saying this to the villain, even though the villain was the one who had lied to them for months. "You need to leave. This - this is my celebration and I am not letting you ruin it."

"I didn't want to ruin anything," the villain said. Their voice was calm. Apologetic even. "Please, if you let me explain it to you..."

The hero wiped the tears off their face, trying to put on a brave expression.

"You are cruel," the hero said. "That's all there is to it. That's all the explanation I need. You're cruel and you think you can get away with it because you can be charming and flirty. But this is cruelty. What you did to me was cruelty."

Hadn't the hero suffered enough? Why did the villain have to deceive them like this? After all they had said to each other?

"You don't want to see me, I understand."

"Exactly. Leave." The villain looked at the ground. The had taken their time to do their hair and search for a nice outfit.

It broke the hero's heart to do this, but they couldn't do this tonight. They simply couldn't. They needed time to think about this, they needed space.

The villain nodded and stretched out their hand, as if they wanted to touch the hero's face and deep down the hero wanted them to.

However, the villain pulled back in the last second.

"I'm sorry," they said again. They walked past the hero but turned around before they reached the door. "Congrats on the promotion, by the way. You really deserve it."

It didn't feel like an achievement in the slightest.