#i get so angry and irritated my head gets hot and it makes my skin crawl

[yohankang]

there's nothing!!! NOTHING that makes me more violent than people eating in a cinema

[adispit]

Hii! Do u write for xiao ?? If u do can u do with a amab reader who is extremely sensitive during sex and gets overstimulated really easily and cries??

A Hefty Price

Xiao x bttm m! thief reader

content warnings: slight dubcon, overstimulation, reader cries, Xiao is a little ooc bc he’s irritated and pissed here, mindbroken reader (fucked into oblivion), punishment sex (?)

note: hiya I didn’t know if u wanted plot with it so I just did it, hope you enjoy 😭🫶

You always thought you could get away with it. Xiao’s warnings, his sharp glares, the low growl in his voice whenever he caught you—it had become almost a routine, something predictable. You'd brush off his words, slip through his fingers, and disappear into the night with whatever prize you'd set your eyes on.

Maybe that’s why you kept going. Deep down, you believed Xiao would be lenient with you forever. That no matter how many times he cornered you, no matter how many times he said, “This is your last chance," there would always be one more.

But tonight was different.

The moment you saw him step out from the shadows, his figure illuminated by the pale moonlight, you knew something had shifted. His eyes weren’t just filled with the usual exasperation or annoyance. There was something darker, more primal, simmering beneath the surface.

You should’ve stopped.

But instead, you smirked, brushing off the unease creeping up your spine. "What, are you here to lecture me again, Xiao?" you teased, trying to keep your voice light. "You know how this goes. I’ll be gone before you even—"

You never got to finish your sentence.

Xiao moved faster than you’d ever seen him before, closing the distance between you in an instant. One moment, you were standing, your usual bravado shielding you from the weight of his presence, and the next, you were pressed against the stone wall of Wangshu Inn, your wrists pinned above your head in a grip so tight it made you gasp.

"Xiao—" you choked, but the words were caught in your throat as you met his gaze. His golden eyes bore into yours, no longer just filled with warning, but with an animal like intensity that sent your pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear—and everything to do with something far more dangerous.

"You think I’ll let this slide again?" His voice was low, rough, almost unrecognizable in its rawness. His face was mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "That I’ll keep letting you walk away like nothing happened?"

His grip tightened around your wrists, his body pressing you harder against the cold stone. The sudden, brutal force of it made your heart stutter, a flicker of panic mixing with something else you didn’t want to name. He wasn’t just angry—he was done. Done with your games, done with your teasing, and done with your refusal to take him seriously.

"You always brush off my warnings," Xiao growled, his voice so close, so filled with something dark and primal that it made your knees weak. "You think I’ll be lenient forever, that I won’t do anything to stop you."

You swallowed hard, the smirk that had once danced on your lips now completely gone. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to understand what was happening. Xiao had always been intense, but this—this was different. He wasn’t holding back anymore.

"You’ve pushed me too far," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His hand left your wrist, sliding down to your throat in one swift, controlled motion, his thumb pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. "You think I’ll keep forgiving you? That you can keep stealing, keep defying me, without consequences?"

His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "No more."

Your chest tightened at the finality in his tone, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had always played with fire, but now, you were burning. Xiao’s restraint, his patience—it was gone, replaced by something far more wild, far more dangerous.

"I… I didn’t think—" you stammered, trying to gather your wits, but Xiao wasn’t having it.

"That’s your problem," he interrupted, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make you still. "You never think. You believe you’re untouchable, that you can keep running from your consequences."

His fingers pressed harder against your skin, his body trapping yours completely against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched the realization wash over you. For the first time, you truly understood—you had gone too far. You had pushed him too far.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, but nothing came out. His grip on you was unyielding, his presence overwhelming. The usual playfulness you had wielded against him was gone, shattered under the weight of his fury.

His other hand slid down your side, pinning you in place with a strength that left no room for argument. You gasped, the pressure making it clear that this time, there was no escape.

"You never took me seriously," he murmured darkly, his lips brushing against your neck, sending heat coursing through you. "But I’m going to show you exactly how serious I can be."

Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, tracing the lines of your body with a possessive touch, one that made it clear—he wasn’t playing around anymore. There was no teasing, no games. You had crossed the line, and Xiao was about to teach you the consequences of defying him.

"You’ll remember this," Xiao muttered, his voice filled with quiet dominance as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body leaving no space for resistance. "You’ll remember who you belong to."

Your heart raced, fear and something else—a darker, more dangerous thrill—mixing together as you realized just how far you had pushed him. Xiao wasn’t fucking around anymore.

And now, you were going to pay for it.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, your heart thundering against your ribs as you stared up at him, completely at his mercy. Letting out a quiet whimper at his gaze, you could feel heat pool in your core, inwardly groaning as his body pushed against yours, giving you no space to retreat or run. “Quiet, (name). Take your punishment.” He shot you a silent glare of disapproval as he fumbled clumsily at your pants.

You weren’t stupid, despite haven’t done this kind of thing before, but you knew what the Yaksha was trying to do, and was clear to your eyes. There was a flash of thought that crossed your mind that if Xiao was the one standing before you, and you weren’t pinned against a wall, you might have considered sharing your first with him.

Your body, however, was much more honest. As he freed your cock, it was already erect, as pearls of precum slid down your length, the cold night air graced your naked lower abdomen. Teeth chattering as the cold wind blew, it didn’t stop your cheeky mouth teasing him much to your regret later on, “Seems like the yaksha is quite the inexperienced one— Ah!” He gripped your dick forcefully, sending a shock of mixed sensations of pain and pleasure through your body. “You never shut up do you, mortal?” Xiao rebuked unhappily as he gingerly jerked your cock up and down, bringing about an onslaught of sheer pleasure and ecstasy that seemed to intertwine with each other.

Being a virgin yourself, it didn’t take for you to release, splattering ropes of white cum into his hand as you let out a strangled gasp. Your eyes widened as you felt Xiao's teeth graze your sensitive skin, a shudder running through your body. The combination of pleasure and discomfort had your nerves alight, every touch sparking a new wave of sensation.

"Nnh...haaah..." You whined, hips bucking involuntarily as you grinded down against the firm muscle of Xiao's thigh. The friction provided some respite, but it wasn’t enough to quell the ache building in your core.

“Stay still.” He let out a growl of frustration before biting down on your collarbone, fangs glinting in the moonlight, sunken into your sinewy skin. The bruising pain and burning pleasure felt indistinguishable as your mouth hung open with inaudible gasps escaping.

“You don’t listen,” he murmured darkly, his breath warm against the raw skin of your collarbone. His teeth released your skin, leaving the bruised, throbbing mark of his claim, the sting lingering like a brand. “You never listen.” His tongue flicked out to trace the bite, sending another wave of heat through your body.

Not intending to give you a break, his fingers thrust into your waiting hole, making you squirm and writhe, insides clenching around his fingers. “Hhn!” A gasp left your lips as you felt the fingers prodding a certain bundle of nerves, nudging it repeatedly until you was moaning incoherently. A little sob even escaped you, as your cock twitched, spurting white all over your own pelvis again. Your whole body quivered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the stimulation didn’t cease, your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one more shallow than the last as your body trembled under his control.

The Yaksha’s name left your lips in a stutter.

The pleasure left you reeling in its wake like a tidal wave engulfing your body in full force. Tears began to decorate your eyes as you let out small hiccups and chokes from the merciless sensations that seemed to plague your fatigued body endlessly.

Xiao’s hand shifted from your ass to your chin, forcing you to look at him. His golden eyes bore into yours, sharp and unyielding. For a moment, something flickered in them—a recognition of the tears that now streamed down your face, glistening in the moonlight.

But his grip didn’t soften.

“Are you crying?” Xiao’s voice was rough, his words cutting through the haze between you. His thumb brushed against your cheek, smearing the tear across your skin. “After everything, you still don’t understand.”

“I’ll make you understand.” You let out a scream as he impaled you on his cock, the girthy length bullying his way into your insides, searing his shape into your walls. There was pain, yet most of it became pleasure as Xiao started to thrust in and out of your tightness. Inaudible, slurred cries escaped you as you hung your head low, body rocked back and forth as Xiao fucked you deep and slow. The tears kept falling, but you were helpless to stop them. Everything about this moment felt too intense, too overwhelming.

Half-sober, you muttered pleas and apologies from your hoarse throat amidst the obscene squelches of his cock kissing your walls repeatedly. “Too late.” He huffed a noncommittal sigh as he put your arms over his shoulders and carried your limp legs with his arms before driving his hips against yours with full force.

Your brain was mush at this point, barely registering anything as your overstimulated hole rapidly twitched and clenched around Xiao’s disappearing cock into your hole. Your cock let out pitiful drops of cum, if that could even be called that, as you had truly lost count on how many times you had climaxed simply from the sensation of his cock scraping against your sensitive walls.

You had truly paid a hefty price.

note: might have made him a little too intense here sry 😢 but i ran w it he’s tired w readers shit lol 😹

Reblogs are appreciated!

[kachowden]

i need more of the pervy fanboy yandere content please i miss him bye I love your work

Rage Quit

Obsessed!Fan x Streamer!Gn!reader

summary: Collin’s favorite streams are the ones where you lose your cool.

a/n: Collins a creep, perverted behavior, parasocial relationship, nsfw.(S/N) “Streamer Name”

★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・★ ★・・・・・・

“No…no..no FUCK!”

Green eyes stared intently at the recording, watching as the content creator flopped back dramatically in their chair. Their eyes screwed in irritation, hands dug against the skin of their forehead as they dragged them down, exaggerating their expression.

Music played softly in his ears.

“Man…sorry guys I really thought we were gonna win that one..”

A ping went off, and Collins breath hitched, caught in his throat as he heard the little bot chime.

“BigRed donated 45$….‘Don’t worry (S/N), they just got lucky.’”

You snorted, that disappointed gleam in your eyes fading as you stretched with a groan. “You got that right Red, thanks for the Dono. I just wasn’t locked in, this next one guys, demolished. They’re screwed, royally.” You laughed, glancing at the chat wall, mumbling thank you’s and replies to other fans as you did, but he wasn’t listening.

His hand was to busy fisting the fabric of his gym shorts to listen, while his other sped across his keyboard. Click clack click clack.

His alt account.

“MushroomGhost donated 1000 bits….’Hey (S/C), it’s my best friends birthday…do you think you could say “Happy Birthday Collin”? That’d really make his day. Thank so much! Love the streams.”

He waited.

“Mmm….oh! Hey Ghost thank you for the bits..uh huh…oh, hey Collin! Happy birthday man hope you’re having a good day, thank you for the support! Love you lots!” Your hands curved together, a small heart formed in the gap as you grinned at the camera briefly.

His mouse clicked.

“Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Hey Collin!” Rewind. “Collin!”

“Fuck..” The saliva in his throat thickened, eyes watering as his cheeks burned red hot to the tips of his ears, his heart thundered in his chest violently.

His hand crept down. “Collin!”

Rewind.

“Collin!”

He gasped, lip ringing shining with the saliva that began to dribble down the side of his mouth, eyes fluttering. He felt like he was gonna pass out. He was sweating buckets but he didn’t wanna take the jacket off. It was your merch. It was signed. He couldn’t take it off.

His cock throbbed after being released from his shorts. Angry and red, swelling and pulsing as your voice rang and smashed into his skull.

“Collin!”

Rewind.

“Mmmmf- fuck…fuck..!”

He was being too rough. He whimpered behind the fabric of his hoodie, caught between his teeth and soaked in his saliva as his hand jerked so violently along his cock.

It wouldn’t take long. Never did with you.

But he needed to be quick. Your stream was almost over.

“Hey BigRed, what game should we play after this?”

“Shit!” White shot across his hands, sweatshirt, dripping onto the desk and floor as he heaved.

He cursed under his breath at the mess, but his vision swam and his head throbbed like he was drunk as his high began to crash back down again.

Number three.

Only 30 minutes left for number four.

“BigRed donated 100$….’Remember getting over it?’”

“Why do you always pick the ones that piss me off??”

[n0tamused]

Hello! may i request a dr ratio fic where he randomly turns into an owl and now reader has to find a way to turn him back into a human, while reader finds a way, they take care of dr. owltio! its basically your typical "oh no my s/o turns into something and now i have to deal w it!" fanfic😭🙏 Ive seen silly tiktoks of veritas being an owl bc it resembles him so well🥹💗

A/n: I love those tiktoks sm bro 😭 They're so cute, I went to work on this as soon as I could. I hope I did this prompt justice, enjoy!

Contents: Veritas Ratio x GN! Reader, fluff, Owltio!

Words: 2465

“Quit your back talking” you scold, voice sharp as you whip around to glare at the bird on the table. Poised even in this fragile form, the big owl straightened its back, standing a little taller and letting out an accusatory ‘whooo’ at you. Despite the mild irritation you felt, from almost hearing all he had to say in your mind in human tongue from his irritation of being turned into this, you couldn’t help the way your face crumbled into a grin. Lifting a hand to rub the bridge of your nose, you take a moment to simply breathe and bask in the irony of the situation you find yourself in. Cackling you shook your head, trying to hide your amusement behind your hand, but the sound already reached the bird’s ears and he was already sauntering over to the edge of the desk as if to scold you for ‘not taking this seriously enough’. 

More coos came from him as you offered no response, but this time much less sharp but more defeated as his big wings stood half outstretched - it’s not everyday one gets turned into an animal, and Veritas was certainly not adapting swiftly to the clumsy yet deadly feet of this avian. His walk was awkward as he shuffled across the desk, his feathery back now turned to you as he looked for something.

Audibly letting out a soft ‘awh’, you approach the desk again, muttering an apology to him. Your words are met with his head spinning around to look at you 180 degrees, cartoonishly funny and beyond amusing. “I’m sorry alright.. No need to go  sulking about. Doubt you’d be able to do much like this anyway, and goodness knows I’d burn in hell if I just left you- leaving you like this'' you cackle a little as you reach out to rub the top of his head. He ducks away, so you leave him be. “I will help you out, okay? We’re in this together, but you’ll have to be a little more cooperative with me, Veritas”

He looks at you, clicking his little beak as he swishes his way to another corner of the desk, flapping his wings, and only then do you realize just how hot it was in the room, a warm breath of air making the layers of clothes stick to you like second skin. It must be no better for him with all those feathers. “Lucky you, I’m off work for the rest of the day. How about we get you a bath, hm?”

 Just like before, the owl’s head turned around, but this time its big eyes looked at you in a way they appeared to praise you for such a fantastic idea. Ever the person to not ask for help, had you not asked, the owl would have stayed here to swelter in the heat. “You like that, hm?” you coo at him, unable to hold back the mirth you found in the way he behaved - it is still a mystery for how long he’ll stay in this form, so it’s best to enjoy every moment while you could.

“Sometimes I wonder if you love those baths more than you even love me” you say out loud, holding your arm outstretched so the big bird can hop onto your forearm, you see it’s feathery ears perking, and another angry 'hooooo' went flying out from him, his chest puffing out in defense, scolding you for even posing such a stupid statement while he can’t verbally refute it. Sure, the doctor never directly spoke of his affections for you, but it should be without a doubt he favors you in more ways than one, and he definitely loves you more than his baths.

Nonetheless, you respond to his noise with a small smile as you carry him to the bathroom, a low hum coming forth from your throat as the silence due to the absence of his voice feels odd. You never realized before how much his voice filled your every day, specifically at home, although the silence between the two of you as you relaxed or went about your own thing wasn’t rare either. 

As the water began to fill the tub, Veritas found his purchase on one edge, watching as the water swirled inside, cool and radiating, tempting him to simply hop in right away. Not wanting to risk him drowning, you stopped the water from filling the tub whole, leaving enough water for him to sit comfortably in. “You need help getting in?” you asked as you looked at the big owl who, without a word(well, sound), hopped into the water, big wings spreading across as much as the tub would allow them to go. Water engulfed him from all sides as he splashed and dove his head swiftly underneath the water before coming up to shake the water off his face. Chuckling, you crouched down and rested your arms on the edge, one arm extending lower so the fingers could touch the water and flick some water on your beloved lover-turned-bird.

“WHOO” he says, a light gurgle in his howl as water splashed into his beak, prompting him to give a fast shake of his head. Now soaked and finally cool, he let his wings simply hang in the water with only his head bobbing on the water’s surface. It was like a purr, his next sound, a soft little ‘huuuu’ as he let his big eyes fall shut as the coolness licked up his feathers.

“I suppose this will have to become the new routine, until we can get you to turn back, that is” you comment as you look around for that one thing you never saw Ratio’s bath go without. The little duck floatie wasn’t too far off, standing on one of the shelves beside the bathtub, watching over the precious bathtub like a little guard before you retrieved it to sit beside Veritas. He looked at the duckie, which looked much bigger than he remembered, then up at you, then back at the duckie’s googly eyes. A sigh followed as the bird went back to cleaning himself off, his tail flicking back and forth, spraying water at you. 

Holding up your hand over your face in a frail attempt to shield yourself didn’t deter Veritas from subtly (but not so subtly) trying to splash you with the cool water. From the flap of his wings and down to the swish of his big tail, the water came flying at you. You laugh after the initial splash hits you, in disbelief at his action but no less happy to see it happen. And in retaliation, you cup your hand in the water and splash him back. “Don’t spray your water at me, you reek, you big bird!” you tease, earning a rather alarmed look from the bird before he dove down under the surface, fluffing his feathers as he came onto the surface to ruffle them. He yelled at you, bopping over to where you were and nudged at your hand. 

“You want me to wash you?” you guessed, and you guessed right as the next cry was more urgent as he extended one clawed leg up to grab around your fingers and draw you in. “Oh, yes, we can’t have you stinking up the place, no sir. If we do, then who’s to say we won’t have someone knocking on our doors to ask about the smell” you keep up your playful demeanor, fully knowing you will earn another earful from Veritas once his beak is turned back to human mouth. You giggle nonetheless, reaching your hand to begin and rub into his feathers. “I should go get you some bird-safe soap too, I don’t want to risk it with the soap we have” You tell him, and he seems understanding enough, a soft coo meeting your ears as a reply.

So many thoughts swirled in your head as you thought of the way you carefully had to handle his wings and the ways to help him turn back to his normal self. Ideas fell short from reality, sending you back to square one. Bringing this situation up to some of the higher ups at the Intelligentsia Guild seemed as the most plausible idea, while simultaneously being something that would most likely earn dislike from your lover here. While you took time to think of possible ways to help him, you could only hope that prolonged transformation like this had no dire side effects.

Three days flew by quickly. Books piled up on your desk and around the house, and the Guild has provided quite some solutions to your little problem - they were eager to get the genius back in their midst, but you only wanted to get Veritas out of this form. 

The weird food concoctions you had to feed the poor man(bird) made you feel sick, but he took it like a champion, only sighing, inhaling and then eating the food. Sometimes he’d fly around the rooms to get his exercise in, or to distract himself from the horrid tasting food; sometimes he’d wait for you around the kitchen to give him a sweeter tasting thing to cleanse his pallet, and other times he’d simply nap. You found out he slept a lot during the day, reminding you of cats. Your own sleeping schedule had gone to ruins and that was no fault of his - you simply wanted to help him where you could and spend time with him, entertaining him or feeding him. 

Yet, you couldn’t deny that the poor sleep has quickly caught up to you as you stifle another yawn. Now it was your time to relax in the bath, and the water did wonders to your muscles and mind alike. Suds slid down your neck and dipped back into the water as you sat down the scrubby sponge down aside in favor of resting, submerged up to the chin in the bubbly water.

No wonder he liked baths so much, you think, mind blanking otherwise. A distant flutter barely made your mind perk, until the small clink of claws on the bath’s edge had you flinching. 

“Veritas!- Didn’t I say that you should at least chirp if you fly towards me” With a small sigh you relax again. For all his big wings, he still flew as silently as the breath of the breeze.  You’d never get used to it. “Do you need anything, I'm afraid I can't help you right away, I’m a bit busy now” you mutter, your lower lip touching the water before you tilt your head up at him. His owlish eyes looked at the water, then at you, before he performed a small hop, landing on your knees that barely touched the surface of the water. “Want to join me, huh..? You know, you really shouldn’t, this isn’t that bird shampoo I bought for you” Veritas puffs his feathers in defiance, noting how the water was now deep, but with you a breath away, he let himself fall in. The suds rising and sticking to his feathers.  He cooed and squawked, flapping his wings and splashing the water. 

You quickly dipped your hands underneath, finding his clawed feet and offering him purchase so he doesn’t struggle, even if his big wings did a great job at keeping him afloat. There could never be a lack of caution, 

“Ratioooo” you whined, frowning and preparing to give him an earful before the weight in your hands grew tenfold, a sudden flicker and a flash of light blinding you to what actually happened in that fragment of a moment. Gasping you felt some water splash into your nose and mouth, the chemical taste of soap making your frown and hiss while the water being splashed over the floor alarmed you to no end.

“Ow-!” you winced, pulling your hands back from underneath the weight. Coughing resonated in the room, and this time it didn’t come from you.

“Veritas!?” Without even seeing him you recognized him, the mere sound of his coughs being enough to make your heart spring with mirth and a sense of triumph. You pushed back, the bathtub suddenly becoming too crowded, and looked up at him. Water dripped down his body, and before he could reply, his knee caught onto the slippery side of the tub, gravity pulling him down into the water and over you. Water splashed more, but you could only open your arms to catch him.

One had slipped underneath you, holding your upper back while the other held onto the edge of the tub to keep himself from falling any lower. He cleared his throat, blinking the water from his eyes. As you cheered his name and held him so closely, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, his cheeks struggling to fight the blush from rising up to them. Despite the initial shock and a wave of frustration that the soapy water caused by irritating his eyes, he couldn’t help but bask in the pure mirth you oozed. A childish joy that could stifle even his irritation - especially his. 

“VERITAS!” You cheered, all fatigue leaving your body as you held him again, your fingers not meeting the feathers but smooth and wet skin of his muscled back. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and a few stray hairs poked at his eyelids until he pushed his hair back. His mind reeled at the sudden loss of his much lighter form, and far more complicated one. Although he yearned to be human again for all the time he spent in his owl form, now he found it weird to feel fingers at the ends of his arms again. But what he had missed the most was this hold around his shoulders. 

“IT WORKED! You’re back, finally!” Your voice rang in his ears, reminding him of the ugly taste on his tongue and the shame he felt when you brought him into the HQ of the Guild, him perched on your shoulder and standing taller than the others - as always. 

“I told you- I-” he sputtered, but only groaned as words failed to form on his tongue. Has he gone mute from only cooing and howling?  “Pftt..” he chuckled, low and raspy as he pushed himself back, reeling you back with him to properly sit in the bath. He watched you lean back for only a few moments, your big smile forming the apples of your cheeks while your wet palm cupped his cheek. It made his breath hitch, and he’d be damned to admit, but he was sure his heart skipped a beat as well. Not wasting another moment, he pulled your back into his embrace, his face hidden away over your shoulder.

“You’re enjoying this far too much” Veritas spoke, even as a smile stretched across his features.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[sanemislittledemon]

Teaching you a lesson

what happens when Sanemi overhears a group of demon slayers talking bad about you and after he goes to find you. He has to teach you to love yourself.

Sanemi X plus size reader

MDNI

Warnings : NSFW, body image issues, bullying, body shaming, extreme dirty talk, Sanemis foul mouth, mild breeding kink

Sanemi was coming but from a long day from training, the sun was setting in the distance making the light glow from this sweat soaked skin, accentuating his scar ridden body. His ears perked up with he heard his girlfriends name from the group of younger demon slayers when he was turning a corner, Sanemi quickly moved back as to not be noticed ’ who the fuck was talking about my girl? ‘ he asked clearly irritated

“ did you see that girl that hangs around lord Sanemi? “ one of them said “ yeah! Why would a hashira hang around a girl like that when he could have anyone he wanted “ another scoffs “ she’s so fucking big! Like a cow, I bet he’s just with her because he pities her “ one says causing the group to laugh and make vulgar hand gestures. Sanemi feels the veins in his forehead pop and his body ran cold then fiery hot. Before he knew what he was doing he was already behind the three younger slayers “ the hell did you just say? “ he asked his voice like cold death making the three jump “ l-lord Sanemi when did you get back from your training ? “ the first asked

Sanemi grabbed him up by his uniform shirt “ come again you little brat “ he spat angrily before continuing “ if I heard what I think I did you brats are dead meat “ all of the slayers wore a face of pure terror “ lord Sanemi I-I don’t know what you thought you heard but I-I “ the second one started but was cut of before he could finish by the pissed off hashira “ DON’T YOU DARE LIE TO ME YOU PISSANT “ he yelled at the other slayers before shooting all three a look that made their blood run cold “ I’ll kill you three right here “ he says voice low “ Shinazugawa? “ a voice came from behind the group making Sanemi shoot his head around ready to fight but his eyes fell on two fellow hashira the other that said his name, a hashira a short man with choppy black hair and a snake around his neck. one of his eyes blue and the other yellow, bandage wrapped around his mouth and wearing a black and white striped hoari. The other hashira a women with pink hair tipped with green, a uniform top similar to his own and green striped socks “ the hell are you two doing here? “ Sanemi asks “ we could be asking you the same thing Shinazugawa, what are you doing to these three? “ Obanai the serpent hashira asks making Sanemi turn his hand back to the three one hand still fisted in one of their uniforms “ teaching these idiots a lesson “ he growls before snapping his hand back to the hashira “ they dared to badmouth my woman “ he finished

“ you mean Y/N ? “ Mitsuri the love hashira asks

Obanai sighs “ Shinazugawa, I know you’re angry but we can’t afford to lose anymore demon slayers “ he walks to Sanemis side followed by Mitsuri “ what did they say about Y/N? She’s so cute! Who would badmouth her! “ she squeals in her normal obsessive manner while blushing ear to ear. Sanemi feels his grip tighten “ I don’t want to repeat it but I think you can guess “ he replies darkly making the serpent hashira nod in understanding but the love hashira is still confused “ I don’t get it “ she whispers to Obanai making the man sigh “ we’ll talk later “

“ p-please lord Sanemi, we didn’t mean anything by it “ the third person says clearly scared,

The man in question snaps his head back, his dark eyes got impossibly darker “ these two just saved your sorry life’s, but if I hear anything again “ he cut himself off before dropping the slayer on the ground, taking his wooden sword and breaking it while swinging at the three demon slayers, knocking them out. “ Shinazuawa you didn’t have to do that “ Obanai says to the man, who throws the broken hilt down before replying “ next time I’ll destroy them “

Mitsuri was still concerned “ Shinazuawa, what ever those people said please don’t let it make you love Y/N any less “ she said with a burning passion in her eyes, typical for the love hashira. Sanemi looks down at the three with a sadness flashing in his eyes “ that would never happen “ he replies with a low voice before running in the direction of the wind estate. Sanemi ran faster than he probably should have catching the attention of passing demon slayers with the look of confusion on their faces but he didn’t care the only thing he cared about in that moment was getting to his princess. The only person that brought him joy besides his little brother genya of course.

He should have seen it, the way the other lower ranking demon slayers were treating her. Sanemi finally put the pieces together in his head about why she never wanted to do things out in public with him or the other hashira. He storms into the wind estate with a fiery rage but it’s not directed at his sweet and beautiful girlfriend but at those damned no names and himself for letting her suffer in silence like this. She was been hurt by these other demon slayers and he was too stuck up his own ass to see it. Sanemi runs through the wind estate looking desperately for her until he found their bedroom, he pulls the door open to discover Y/N standing in front of their full length mirror, staring at her mostly naked form with tear stained cheeks. She notices him quickly “ Sanemi what are you doing home?! “ she yelled at the man as she’s trying to cover her body with her discarded uniform. Sanemis eyes bloodshot with anger as his eyes rake over her rounded figure barely covered by the uniform she’s holding to her skin, the scene before him rips a growl from his chest.

The man slams the door shut before storming over to her, his towering figure making Y/N’s breath stop for a moment. She jumps when Sanemi puts his hands on her hips, gripping them tightly while he pulls her to their bed “ sit “ he commands letting go of her and walking back to the mirror picking it up to move it in front of them. Sanemi glances back to her “ if you take your eyes off this mirror you will be punished, understood? “ he asks in a calming manner that made a shiver go down her spine but Y/N nods in response.

Sanemi then drops to his knees, pushing her to lean back on the bed, he starts to kiss slowly up her thighs “ beautiful “ he mumbles into her skin. The man leaves marks as he moves closer to her heat, slowly kissing and licking. Y/N is forced to watch herself in the mirror as the man paints her skin in purple marks and whispers praise into her rounded thighs before making his way to her stomach “ fuck baby so soft “ he groans

“ I’m going to mark every part of your perfect fucking body “

Sanemi bites into your skin making his way up to her breasts leaving marks around them but making sure never to touch her sensitive buds. Kisses his way to her neck leaving a mark there that has Y/N shaking “ S-Sanemi please” she moans out weakly. The man finally pulls back looking down at the art he’s made of her body, marks littering her skin “ fuck baby “ he moans slowly moving his eyes across her fucked out body. Sanemi then backs away completely and she watched through the mirror has he moves in behind her moving her body so she’s laying against his chest forcing her legs to spread with his own exposing her core to them both. Her eyes move over her body taking in all of the marks the man left on her skin from her plush thighs to full hips and stomach to her breasts. “ embarrassing “ she whispers earning a swift smack on the thigh “ I will not allow you to insult something that is mine “ he replies then moves his hand down her body. His eyes dropping between her legs

Her core glistening “ your slutty fucking body is too honest “ he laughs as he drags his finger tips up her core. Sanemis eyes lock with hers through the mirror while he continues rubbing up and down her core without ever touching her clit “ P-Please Sanemi “ she begs while bucking her hips into his hand making him stop. The man brings his fingers to her lips and roughly pushes them inside “ you are going to take what the fuck I give you, understood “ he growls and uses his other arm to smack her plush thigh. Sanemi pulls he’s fingers free bringing them down to her breast circling one of her hard buds ripping a moan from her throat that makes his cock throb against her back. Sanemi grinds into her “ you fucking feel how hard you make me? “ he moans into her neck

Sanemi keeps grinding his hips into her as he removes his hand from her breast, bringing it back down to her core. She’s panting against him, shivers rack her body as he rubs her gently before letting his fingers find her entrance circling it teasing making a whimper come out of her lips and her legs to shake. He grabs her face with his other hand making her look down at his fingers through the mirror as he puts two fingers inside making her moan loudly.

“ fuck yourself on my fingers like a good girl “

Y/N let’s out a sigh as she works her hips against Sanemis hand, feeling his long rough fingers go deep inside her core. “ fuck baby I’ve barely touched you and you’re this wet? “ Sanemi moans locking his eyes with hers. His eyes dark and possessive “ I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock “ he says taking the lead and fucking his fingers into her faster making embarrassing noises fill the room. Hand rubbing her clit as he fucked his fingers into her curling them at just the right moment hitting her weak spot, making her throw her hand back against his shoulder “ what did I tell you “ he growled before forcing her head back into place. Eyes opened looking at how the flush from her face stretched down to her chest, eyes focused on how her chest heaves and her stomach clenches from the pleasure Sanemis fingers were giving her. Suddenly the man spreads them inside of her opening her up slightly, stretching her for something bigger, the thought has her drooling “ look at this pretty fucking cunt “ he growls in her ear his hot breath ghosting over her neck making her shiver in his arms.

“ going to cum for me? “ Sanemi asks as he fucks his fingers in her deeply making the woman whine unable to answer. Sanemi smirks and curls his fingers hitting her sweet spot “ then watch yourself release all over my hand “ he commanded and with that her stomach tightened as pleasure overtook her, they both watched as liquid spilled over his hand and the mirror leaving her panting in his arms. Y/N slowly moved her eyes up to meet his only to see the shock and arousal reflected there. “ fuck baby I didn’t know you had that in you “ he marveled as he pulled his fingers free moving them up to his mouth, she watched as he took them in and sucked all of her essence off of them.

Sanemis eyes shot back to hers clearly aware of what this was doing to his girl, he smirked “ don’t worry baby I’m not done yet “ he moved his legs so she could move, Sanemi guided her to the floor on his knees, the man made a show of slowly removing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. He pulled them down just enough for his cock to spring free, it’s big with a thick vein running up the underside of it her mouth waters as pre-cum beads at the tip.

Smirking Sanemi says “ go on you know you want it “ before he guides it to her waiting mouth, circling it before pushing the tip in. Y/Ns closed her mouth around it and sucks ripping a moan from the man above her, Sanemi tastes salty from training but that just makes her core throb with need. Y/N tries to take him deeper into her throat what she can’t fit she uses her hand, jacking him off in time with her mouth, paying extra attention to the vein on the underside of his cock making the man groan loudly and rub his hand through her hair just the way she likes it.

“ fuck that’s enough baby “ he says pulling her off his cock and into his lap, kissing her deeply and rubbing his tip against her slit. He nips her bottom lip gently before grabbing her hips tightly and filling her up completely with his cock making her scream before both pleasure and slight pain from his size. Sanemi wastes go time in fucking deeply into her so deep she swears she can feel his tip kiss her cervix.

“ so fucking tight “ he moans into her mouth as he grips her hips harder and forcing her down on his cock while fucking his hips up into her making her whole body shake. Sanemi releases her mouth opting to lick at her breasts sucking more marks into them before taking a bud in his mouth licking and sucking on it hard while he sets a punishing pace with his thrusts. She feels her stomach tighten with pleasure as he abuses her sweet spot “ that’s it baby take my fucking cock “ he groans licking her hard bud making her scream

“ louder! Make all of them hear how good I make this pussy feel “ he moans into her skin

At his words she feels pleasure shoot up her spine as she cums around his cock at this Sanemi fucks into her harder before cumming inside feeling her with his warmth. But before she was able to catch her breath Sanemi flips her over onto her knees, pushing into her again making her scream with the overwhelming pleasure. The man sets a punishing pace making sure she takes every inch of him as he reaches forward to grab her hair in his fist pulling her face off the bed so he can hear her beautiful moans.

Sanemi leans forward to bite at her neck “ have you learnt your lesson? “ he asks with a growl in his throat

“ w-what lesson? “ she asked breathlessly

Sanemi bites her neck harder making her whimper “ listening to options from assholes that don’t matter “ he says between thrusts “ i better not ever see you thinking negative about something that’s mine again, understood? “ he asks as he smacks her rounded asscheek

That sends her over the edge cumming for the third time as he quickly follows filling her to the brim with his warmth. The couple stays like this while they catch their breath, panting and covered in sweat. Sanemi was the first to move, slowing pulling out of her letting the woman fall onto her stomach beneath him. Sanemi sits up running a hand through his sweaty hair “ fuck I went overboard “ he says

He moves her over to her back taking in her fucked out face and the flush that runs down her neck “ are you okay baby? “ he asks Y/N doesn’t trust her voice so she just nods he smiles down at his beautiful girl as he rubs his hand across her cheek “ how did I ever get go lucky? “ he asks making the woman blush

“ come on let’s cuddle before bathing “ he says before moving off the bed putting the mirror back in place and picking up Y/N and putting her back on the pillows, she normally would protest but her body wouldn’t let her put up a fight with the hashira. He moves in beside her cuddling her to his chest “ we may have a brat in a few months “ he comments making her blink up at him before the realization hit but to tired to yell at him so she decided to ignore him making a mental note to stop by the butterfly estate in a few weeks before letting sleep take her, Sanemi smiles “ I wont let anyone hurt either of you “ he promises

[clawsdevour]

tied to you

wc: 1.3k content warning: smut, bondage, slight bdsm, friends w/ benefits, some degradation, slight humiliation, mouth fuck, not proofread, shitty writing, multi-fandom x reader

note: hihi whoevers reading this its kinda like my first time writing something more darkish in terms of smut idk how to explain??? bc i was kinda interested trying my hand at writing bondage and whatnot so um hopefully its at least ok???

*:･ﾟ✧

“Does it hurt if I tighten it like this?” are the words you hear as the red ropes grip around your curves, tightening at every given movement.

“No, it actually feels good.” You always wanted to try this fantasy of yours that you’ve seen on a variety of different medias. It’s a way to stimulate and satisfy you through bondage, essentially meaning being tied up. You thought this way of pleasure was very intriguing at first glance, being able to feel pleasure through being binded tightly by strings. Since you had a friends with benefits relationship, you wanted to experiment this with your partner.

“You look so hot right now, you know that. Can’t move, just tied up for me. Ha.. I can’t help but get hard just by looking at you,” your partner grins. Skin starting to come to a slight bruising the more you move. The tight rope just barely hitting your bare perky rosy nipples, making your tits spill out of the red rope. You grinded yourself on the rope that was right in between your folds, letting out silent moans while soaking the cords with your wet fluids. Your ass is fully exposed with each cheek separated along the lines of the cords. You were currently kneeling on your bed, with the ropes digging into your skin, hands binded behind your back as well as your ankles. He’s standing, watching and observing the ropes tightly against your skin right in front of you. You watch as your partner’s hard on keeps reaching its peak, watching it grow. You want to see it closer and maybe even give him a reward for tying you up so well.

“Take your pants off, I’ll suck you off” confidently you said to him, underestimating what he’s gonna do since you’re in a pretty vulnerable state. He raises an eyebrow, shooting you a look of surprise.

“Anything you want for looking so gorgeous,” shuffling off his pants and sliding down his boxers. The moment his dick popped out and recoiled off his stomach, you start salivating looking at his length and thickness. He steps closer to you and watches as you try to catch it into your mouth. Obviously, you needed his hand to guide you if he wanted you to suck him off! He couldn’t help but laugh at you for wanting to suck his cock so bad in an attempt to humiliate you.

“You’re so silly. If you want it that bad you have to beg for it,” Holding his dick still, he starts smacking you multiple times in the face as he lets out a low chuckle. You can’t help but givehim a dirty look for his tauntings. Fueling your irritation you blurted out at him.

“Just put it in my mouth already dickhead! Fuck you, stop teasing m-” the warm thick dick of his, stuffs your mouth completely hitting the back of your throat. You let out a groan from his sudden thrust. His hands gripped handfuls of your lucious locs as he pushed your head further down. Feeling it prob the back of your throat made you gag, causing him to jerk it back out. Coughing violently, tears started to sting your eyes as your body reacted.

“Well? I did what you said you wanted me to do. What do you wanna do next, hmm?” the sincerity in his low voice made you wanna clock him right there. Obviously, since you’re binded, you can’t. All yo ucould do was be angry. Although he was right, he did give you what you wanted and you can’t prove him wrong. Shit, your brain thought out of all people I chose to try bondage with this fucker?? Well, it’s like you had no other friends with benefits to try this out with. Recovering from his impulsive move, you might as well continue. Well.. you were gonna anyway since you’re quite literally tied up. You let out one big sigh which made him respond with a loud huff.

“I.. I want to…” what you’re about to say, just the thought of saying out loud in front of this guy is enough to make you die of embarrassment. You knew what you wanted to say but couldn’t spit them out. He watched you struggle with your words for a good minute with his eyebrow raised and arms crossed against his toned chest.

“Just say it bitch, I don’t get what you’re picking at here…” he sighs and scratches his head trying to figure out what you’re saying in his thick skull. You can’t help but look down turning a red hue, completely humiliated with what you’re gonna tell him to do.

“I want you to mouth fuck me,” he’s staring at you like you’ve gone mad and turned into a whole different person than he usually has sex with. Your words sent chills up his spine, he wouldn’t expect this even if you’ve never became friends with benefits.

“I.. Uh, are you sure..??” you nod, staring him down making him gulp. Opening your mouth wide for him, he intoxicates your warm plush mouth with his thick cock. His girth making your eyes tear up, his hands reach for the back of your head as he start moving in deeper. As he thrusts your head over and over on his dick, your body moved with him. The squelches sounds squeaked out of your mouth while your bedsheets shuffled. The tension coming from the ropes on your body restrain you from moving even further. You can’t help but moan from the friction the cords produced on your skin and intimate areas, causing a bright red to start fading in. The thin sheen layer of sweat starting to show up on your bare flesh as you took in his cock.

“Shit this feels so good” seductively was heard from above. Looking up at him, he was enjoying himself as much as you were. His tender muscular build mixed in with his musky scent and sweat, as his cock rubs harshly against your gummy mouth.

His rough pace quickens as if your sloppy, swollen lips were now his own personal fleshlight moving at his own rate. Your cheeks hollowing and altering back to normal as you suction on his dick. The moment your eyes rolled back was the moment he started to twitch in your mouth, knowing he’s coming to a close.

“I’m gonna cum.. Do you want it in your mouth, you filthy whore?” you tried hard to shake your head. Gross anything but his cum in your mouth. Feeling your shake, he was at least nice enough to respect your decision. Right as he pulled out leaving you exhausted and gasped with your sore coarse throat. He instantly pumps his cock with his hand, releasing explosions of his thick sticky fluids flying onto your sweaty, tear stained face. 

His essence dripped down onto the rest of your body and the ropes that bruised and turned your skin into different shades. You were beyond exhausted and overstimulated from the rope rubbing against your most sensitive parts. Your partner couldn’t help but stand for a moment, letting him catch his breath, watching you regain your composure. 

“Augh.. shit” you can’t help but cough overwhelmingly after getting your throat fucked severely like that. Droplets were still streaming down as your body reacted to what it’s just been put through. His warm touch swipes your tears off the surfaces of your cheek.

“Sorry. I was a bit harsh with you, wasn’t I?” untying the rope from your body, you collapse in his heated embrace as he reaches for a tissue to wipe his cum off of you.

*.༄ DABI, SHIGARAKI, SUNA RINTARO, OIKAWA TOORU, ATSUMU MIYA, YUJI TERUSHIMA, SAKUSA KIYOOMI, GOJO SATORU, SUKUNA, TOJI FUSHIJURO, KAEYA, CHILDE, TENGEN UZUI, OBANAI IGURO, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI, DOMA

masterlist here

[bunnykawa]

all mine (sakusa x f. reader)

summary: Big brother Sakusa has to deal with his flirty little sister. word count: 6k? warnings: 18+, sexual themes, incest, noncon/dubcon/rape, voyeurism kinda, some yandere themes, sakusa is delusional a/n: just a little thing i wrote out of nowhere to let out some steam and because battle of the garbage dump got released in japan and yeahh i just thought about my handsome man LMAOO. sorry if it's not that great since it's been like how long?? but enjoy!! also no this isn't a part 3 to my fic from 4 years ago lolol and excuse any of my typos 😵‍💫

Sakusa doesn’t know if he should be mad or not. The glow of his alarm clock is illuminating his dark room with the soft moonlight slightly peeking in through the blinds. He runs his hands through his curls before he sighs and puts his pillow over his face. 

He can hear you. The soft moans and suppressed whimpers coming from plump, swollen lips can be easily heard through your thin walls. If he closes his eyes and really focuses, he could hear how wet your pussy is as you get drilled right next door—right next to the wall, too, because he knows that you prefer your bed in the corner of the room and the sound of the bed creaking is getting unapologetically louder and louder. He was supposed to be asleep an hour ago for early volleyball practice the next morning, but instead he’s listening to you. Every little noise, every creak, every word that slips out of your clenched teeth as you try to be as quiet as you can—”Please,” you beg in a broken voice, “Y-you’re so big, ‘Tsumu.”

’Tsumu; the little nickname that makes his blood boil and all he can think about is how much of a fucking asshole he is. Yeah, he should be mad—he has every right to be angry, he thinks. Sakusa has to see Atsumu Miya’s cocky face and disgustingly bleached hair at volleyball practice every week and now he has to hear the fucker himself fucking his little sister into oblivion in the next room. 

And now it’s getting hot in his own room! He scratches the side of his neck in irritation. Why does it feel like his comforters are suffocating him? Sakusa throws his pillow across the room and rips the blankets off of himself. The tip of his hard cock is peeking out from one of the legs of his boxers, almost as if his body is mocking him for feeling this way—for getting hard at the sound of his little sister getting split open. He grimaces for a second, but the guilt and shame can hit him later. Right now it’s too fucking hot.

So, he’s angry because he hates Atsumu—hates how Atsumu has managed to infiltrate his professional life and personal life in such a gross way. Why is Sakusa bitterly pushing his boxers down around his thick thighs? His cock springs free and he grips the shaft harshly.

“Fuck,” Sakusa mutters. He starts slowly, gently pumping his hand around his cock. It’s warm in his hand and twitching at the small bursts of pleasure, enough to allow a pained moan out through gritted teeth. When was the last time he even had someone over to use their body how he pleased? He wishes he could ignore it—ignore you—but all he does is pick up his pace as he listens to the sound of your cunt getting destroyed and your sickeningly sweet begging for Atsumu to fuck you harder.

Oh, he’s mad—so mad that everything is throbbing from his head to the head of his dick. He hisses at the pain in his temples but it does little to stop him from continuing to fist his cock.

“‘Tsumu!” he hears you cry out. The sound of your headboard slamming against the wall is getting even louder, accompanied by the slick noises coming from between your legs and skin slapping against skin. The room feels like a sauna at this point, but nonetheless, Sakusa squeezes his eyes shut as he picks up speed and fucks into his own hand like a pervert at the sound of his little sister. 

Would you be scared of him if you knew how badly he wanted to be in Atsumu’s place? How he wants to rip Atsumu away from you and make you cum on his cock the way he wants to? His skin is getting sticky from his sweat—his arm is getting tired from how fast he’s pumping his cock, desperate to release his frustrations in a stream of hot white liquid and how he wishes he could paint your face with it. He imagines how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock—if you would beg for him through watery eyes and tear-stained puffy cheeks trying to put all of him in your mouth. Is his cock too big for you? Is your pussy as warm and sopping wet as he imagines it is? 

“I’m gonna cum!” you scream, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Your voice cracks when you chant for Atsumu. Sakusa’s whole body tenses, every single nerve and muscle in his body on fire because damn it, he wants to be the reason why you're screaming and convulsing and crying from pleasure like a whore.

Then with a few more strokes of his cock, he releases his cum in heavy streams that land in a sticky mess on his sheets and lower abs. He groans as his cock twitches against his aching fingers. After a few seconds, he lets go of his shaft and lets it fall against his pelvis. It’s like the whole world has stopped—there’s no more erotic noise coming from your side of the wall. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the sound of labored breaths and giggling. He wonders if Atsumu is going to cuddle you to sleep and stay the night or if he’s going to run away and leave you yearning for more.

Embarrassment creeps onto his cheeks with how fast he came, but as fast as the embarrassment comes, the guilt suddenly settles deep into his stomach, into his joints, into every muscle of his being. Sakusa is disgusted with himself for letting his lust take over during a moment of weakness—lust for his imouto who doesn’t know any better, who is in the prime of her life to fuck around and find out without much of a care in the world, who doesn’t think about the consequences. Sakusa can’t do that like you do, it’s not built into him except for the few times where he did let loose—although he’s not as sloppy as you. Sometimes it feels like you were raised in different households. It shouldn’t be a surprise to him that you flirt and fuck with his volleyball teammates—or anyone that breathes in your direction for that matter. It shouldn’t—but for the first time in his life, he asks himself that if you undress for anyone…then why not for him?

He curses to himself. His expectations are too unrealistic. You’re siblings! And he knows that you both could and should never unless you wanted to ruin your relationship and test your morals. He reaches over to the towel hanging on his desk chair and quickly wipes away the mess he made. A nice, steamy shower pops into his mind, but he’s too tired to wash away his sins.

The room gets colder and his transgressions have nowhere to go, marinating into his skin, reminding him that he’s a shitty big brother for wanting to ravage you from the inside. As his mind goes hazy from how sleepy he is, he also hears a door open and shut followed by heavy footsteps and another door—your door and the front door. A small smirk finds its way across his lips. Sakusa may have a sick attraction to his little sister that he may have recently discovered, but at least he’s never lonely. You, however—

You can never make them stay long.

~

“Omi-nii~!” Sakusa hears you sing, bouncing through the hallways of your shared apartment until he feels you wrap your arms around his naked waist. He’s in the kitchen warming up the leftovers you cooked earlier in the day over the stove, looming over the counter and scrolling away at his phone. 

He scoffs and leans away from you in mock disgust, “Weren’t you sick last week? Get off me before you give me your disease.” 

“I don’t have one! I’m clean!” you whine with a pout, squeezing your arms around him tighter. You press the front of your body against his back, a gesture that makes Sakusa feel fuzzy, especially when you also press your nose against his bare back to inhale his scent. There’s something so intimate with the way you’re not even scared to hold him while he’s not wearing a shirt. His skin is fresh from the shower and his hair is slightly damp. He pulls away to look at you when he notices how nicely dressed you are. 

With a raised brow, he asks, “Where the hell are you going this late?” You pull away from him to adjust your dress. He turns to face you, his eyes going up and down your body with sick thoughts beginning to cloud his brain—sick, twisted thoughts that should have never crossed his mind.

“First of all—” you say, rolling your eyes at him, “—it’s not late. It’s literally only six-thirty, you weirdo.” Sakusa narrows his eyes as he begins to scowl. But despite his obvious look of you better not be going out like that, you happily ignore him. “Second of all, I’m going out on a date!” 

“A date with who?” he asks sharply, folding his arms against his chest and straightening his posture. He always does this to tower above you, to hopefully make you feel smaller than you are. It worked much better when you were both younger.

You bite your lip before giggling his name, “Atsumu.” You seem to get bubbly as his name rolls off of your tongue naturally with a smile playing at your lips and warm cheeks to accompany it. Maybe his heart aches a bit with jealousy when you say that stupid name, a feeling that makes the guilt settle heavily again. The last time he heard you say his name—moan his name—was a few nights ago when he did something no brother should ever do, separated by a few inches of thin walls. As quick as he is to question you, he is also quick to shake those damning thoughts out of his head before they manifest into something more and he ends up losing it in the kitchen you share. He’s scared that he might never forgive himself if he does.

“Since when the hell did you get so close?” Sakusa shoots you another question with furrowed brows. As monotonous as Sakusa usually is, the distaste is present in his tone and his stance.

“I don’t know,” you sigh so dreamily, “It just happened. I didn’t know he could be so sweet.” He could vomit if he had the chance. Out of all people—Atsumu? Really? Sweet?!

“Well, I guess you do have a disease then,” he retorts, sticking his nose up in disgust, “He’s sick in the head, (Y/N). I thought you had better taste in men but here you go fucking around with my teammate—”

“Omi-nii...” you pout.

“—like he’s the only guy you know. I expected better from you,” Sakusa continues with a puff of his chest. He turns away from you to turn the stove off. “He’s always sick, too. Always getting a cold and then going to practice like he’s not contagious.” 

It’s Atsumu taking his little sister away from him that angers him more than he could ever imagine—but it’s also knowing that he will never be the one between your thighs that makes him so disappointed. There’s a silence in the room that creeps up his back.

“You’ve been so out of character recently, Nii-san,” you ponder behind him, placing your finger on your chin to pretend that you’re thinking, “It’s not like you to lose your cool over a guy. Are you…

…jealous?”

No.

He’s just looking out for you—he’s your big brother after all! But he doesn’t know how to respond and stands still, holding his breath. Deny, deny, deny. He turns his head to look at you in his peripherals; you’re staring right at him with the same sweet eyes that he remembers from your childhood.  Maybe he has been out of character—did you really notice? As it feels like some kind of tension is suffocating him and the ground is going to swallow him, you crack a wide smile and start giggling uncontrollably, which instantly makes him frown. 

This is why you two are complete opposites—Sakusa; as serious as ever and always playing the voice of reason like a good older brother, and you; the first to laugh when it’s quiet and always being the fun little sister when things get too serious for your liking. You skip towards him and wrap your arms around him again with the biggest smile on your face, snuggling your nose into the skin of his back. 

“You’ll always be my favorite, Omi-nii. I love you more than any boy in the world,” you hum. He wonders if you can hear his heart beating louder with each syllable of your words.

Sakusa could laugh. Usually he would, before pushing you off and scolding you for getting too close to him. But his heart continues to thump and his voice gets stuck in his throat when your hand slides down his abs and brushes lightly over his twitching cock. It’s not like him to lose his composure like this. You place a saccharine kiss on the curve of his back before you hastily let go of him and walk away. 

You didn’t touch him enough for him to say anything—to reprimand you for touching your Onii-san like that—but just enough for your touch to linger where it shouldn't. 

~

A soft knocking at Sakusa’s bedroom door stirs him awake. He groggily twists and turns under his bed sheets, irritated that someone would wake him so late at night. He hears the ‘click’ of the door knob and the hinges creaking as the door opens.

“Omi-nii?” you whisper gently from your place at the door. Sakusa ignores you easily, choosing to keep his eyes shut in hopes that maybe you’ll leave him alone and let him have his peace. 

“Omi-nii,” you call his name louder and more firmly, “Onii-san, are you awake?” 

What a stupid question, he thinks to himself, but Sakusa figures that you’re not going to leave his room any sooner, so he finally opens one of his eyes slowly to see your head peeking into his room. It’s dark—you’re almost just a black silhouette in his blurry vision, but he can make out your soft and surprisingly tired features just enough. “What, (Y/N),” he groans, his voice gravelly with fatigue. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Your voice is timid when you ask—it brings Sakusa back to when you two were younger and you were just as shy to ask him the same question—and the same question is what prompts him to suddenly sit up, letting his bed sheets fall to expose his lean upper body. He rubs at his eye before looking up to gaze at you, clad in a shirt of his (that he begrudgingly noticed went missing months ago) engulfing your figure.

Omi-nii’s shirts are way more comfier than mine, you would whine. He would roll his eyes and snap at you, usually, but would still let you take his shirts anyway. The perverted part of him secretly loves how his clothes fit you.

Sakusa doesn’t ask and figures that it’s best that he doesn’t. He sees the way you’re twiddling with the bottom of his shirt between shaky fingers. He could tell you that he was right all along, laugh in your face, anything to rub it in—instead, he pulls the covers aside and scoots over, creating an empty space for you, just for you.

“Come here,” he mutters, loud enough for you to hear. You move instantly, your feet delicately pitter pattering against his hardwood floors. The mattress dips lightly as you climb into his bed. You pull his blanket up to your chin instantly and Sakusa grabs whatever he can get. “Go to sleep, (Y/N).” Without another word, he turns away from you and settles into his sleeping position on his side.

After a few moments of silence, you mumble something Sakusa can’t quite make out. And when he chooses not to respond, you say it again, “Can you hold me, Onii-san?” Then his body completely stiffens in response. He always said yes when you two were kids—hell, even when you were teenagers and it was definitely considered inappropriate by then. Would it be weird if he said no now?

But he sighs, knowing that he can't just say no. He turns around and drags himself closer to you, lifting his arm so that you can move underneath it and press yourself into the front of his body. His breath hitches as you do, an all too familiar heat igniting in his stomach as the curves of your body fit perfectly against him.

When he wraps his arm around you, he suddenly feels so complete and so awful, almost having to hold back on how tightly he wants to really hold you. This time he can inhale the scent of your hair—a mixture of whatever shampoo and conditioner you keep in your rotation and your favorite leave-in conditioner. The skin on your arms is soft from your lotion, your legs are smooth and buttery against him, and fuck are you so warm. He could absolutely eat you up right here if you’d let him. Maybe in your vulnerable state of mind…you wouldn’t say no.

Sauksa doesn’t know what demon has decided to possess him. He’s been thinking too much for the past few weeks for sure. A little earworm is corrupting him, whispering in his ear and daring him to do something and destroy you.

His hands are moving on their own. They slip underneath your shirt—hot fingertips caressing your skin so carelessly and trailing up and down your hips. He wants to laugh because you’re only wearing panties. How obvious can you get? If you were thinking about him the same way he thought about you, you could have just said something.

You tense up at his unexpected touch, but don’t move away from him—you don’t even say a word, not when his hand slides up to cup one of your tits to pull you closer to him, not when he decides to press his hard cock against your ass, not a single word.

Sakusa thinks he’s been too hard on himself recently, especially with how his feelings about you have changed so drastically. You’re not ready for him like that, that much is obvious with how much you’re shivering, but he deserves this after all the mental anguish you put him through because of how stupid you are.

First, you fuck his dumb teammate in the apartment that Sakusa pays for. And out of all the teammates, you choose the one who used to have piss blond hair back in high school and still slurs his words. Second, you have the audacity to touch him and kiss him and tease him, knowing that he can never have you the way that he wants. Third, you wake him up in the middle of the night to sleep in his bed in one of the shirts he’s been looking for for months and just your thin panties that leave so little to the imagination—

“Omi?” you quavered, knocking him out of his thoughts. Oh, he didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing you or how rough his grip is on your perky tits. He also didn’t realize how he started grinding himself against your ass, wedging his covered cock between your covered asscheeks in an attempt to feel the warmth from your core. The guilt should have been settling in him again, yet to his surprise, he feels…nothing. All he wants is to hold you down against the bed and wreck your insides until you bleed and beg for him. 

“Omi-nii!” A panicked gasp escapes you and suddenly Sakusa is on top of you, holding you down by your wrists. You gaze up at him, lips parted in shock, eyes so wide, and the first thing that goes through his mind is beautiful. He leans down and presses his lips against yours, leaving you so shocked that your entire body freezes.

“Hold still,” he murmurs, and his words flip a switch in your brain. You’re already fighting against him, desperate to escape from his hold on your wrists and the sins he’s planting on your lips and for the first time in your life you’re actually scared of him. 

Sakusa grips your wrists even tighter and hisses as you squirm, “I said hold still.” 

Then you force yourself to relax with no choice but to let Sakusa explore your mouth. Your hesitation is obvious (of course, it is) and instead of pulling back and knocking sense into himself, he’s offended—out of all the guys you let violate your body, you won’t let your own brother do the same? 

He disconnects from you to grip both your wrists above your head, holding you down easily with one hand. Then his other hand quickly pushes the bottom of your shirt up to your stomach to display your bottom half and grabs the top of your panties. You’re horrified as Sakusa effortlessly rips your panties off of you and throws the shredded pieces off to the side, exposing you to the cold air and to your brother’s eyes. 

Your brother’s eyes. You can feel the bile coming up to your throat at the realization. Your brother is going to do something to you against your will and you can’t do anything to stop him because he’s bigger and stronger than you and you live alone together. As you make eye contact with him, it’s like you can’t even recognize him. You jerk your body away in a feeble attempt to free yourself, but it’s no use.

“Stop!” you cry, ashamed, scared, and so confused, “Nii-san, stop!” 

He splits your thighs apart with his own muscled thighs and you feel so weak trying to close them again, to hide that part of you that your big brother should never ever see. 

But to Sakusa, it’s a sight that he wishes he could see over and over again and he has no problem taking his chances if it means that he can have you—he’s already gone way too far, past the point of return, and he doesn’t want to care anymore about what consequences his actions might bring. A small smirk appears on his face as he looks down at you, so vulnerable and small underneath him. He doesn’t want to waste time—his boxers are already down his thighs and his cock is free. You’re looking down at his cock with pure fear on your face—fuck, he’s big, so big that you’re dumbfounded that he’s even real. But he’s also your brother. You literally grew up together and he still takes care of you and you see each other everyday.

You want to look away but you can’t. Although your vision is blurry due to your tears, you can still see him and only him. “This is why you asked to sleep with your nii-san tonight, right?” he breathes, looking down at you with a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen or noticed before. You’re shaking your head no. Never. You were just sad and needed your big brother to comfort you without asking any questions.

“Stop lying to me, (Y/N). You know what you’re doing,” he scoffs, “I’ll take care of you. Just like I always have.” Then, he grabs the back of your thigh with his free hand to hoist one of your knees up against your chest, exposing you even more than you already are. Before you can even process it, the head of his hard cock is pressing against your entrance so delicately and so carefully but it’s terrifying all the same.

A loud gasp escapes you and you attempt to yank yourself away from him again. Tears are fully streaming down your face now, dampening your hair and the sheets. Your chest is tightening— you’re so scared. You don’t even know what Sakusa is talking about so you're even more puzzled. As far as you know, you’ve been the same as you’ve always been. “Don’t d-do that,” you beg with a crack in your voice, “Omi-nii, please.”

But Sakusa is pleased to hear your broken voice—irritated that you don’t want him to continue, sure, but pleased nonetheless. He’s always wanted to see you like this underneath him and he finally has you. Your legs spread wide open for him to feast on is something that seemed so unobtainable yet you’re in his bed, exposed and ready.

Please.

He pushes through the tight rings of your pussy until he completely fills you up—the tip of his cock is fighting its way through plush walls to kiss your cervix and you swear that your world has shattered into a million tiny pieces. A sob breaks free from your throat.

The room is ice cold. There’s no more air in your lungs as you convulse around him. You can hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears but everything is so silent. Sakusa lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding and suddenly everything is okay now—he knows that there was no demon possessing him to think about you in such a dirty way because it was really him all along. All his sick fantasies and insatiable desires, dreams of devouring you, and all those sleepless nights imagining what you would look like with his cock so deep inside you that you couldn’t breathe—it was just him, so painfully in love with you even if he can’t have you. And now he’s inside of you. He’s actually inside of you.

“Fuck,” he curses in a strained voice, “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.” It feels as if your mind and body are attempting to recover from the shock of Sakusa forcing himself inside your cunt but there’s no time for recovery at all—hell, you’re both surprised that he even managed to slide into you as easily as he did.

Then he starts moving, slow and steady to open you up more. The sting of him stretching you is enough to make you let out a few wails between quivering lips. You can physically feel your walls shudder around his length and your nerves are practically screaming, ringing your inner alarms, knowing that this is so fucking wrong.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you sob, attempting to jerk your wrists away from his one-handed grip. You’re not even sure when you became so weak, even with adrenaline coursing through your veins. And you’re even more shocked when he lets go of your wrists for a split second only to hold you by the throat firmly.

“You need to shut the fuck up sometimes,” Sakusa breathes with a hint of annoyance. Your shaky hands find their way to wrap around his wrist, nails clawing at his skin, hopelessly trying to loosen his grip. His cock is still moving dangerously inside you, filling you up and then leaving you empty with just his tip, only to fill you up again. The slow rhythm of his hips pressing against yours is tormenting—your skin is crawling with every moment that your hips meet and you wonder if he moved more then would time go by faster? 

Labored breaths and wheezes are the only sounds that you’re able to let out with Sakusa’s hand on your throat. There’s fatigue creeping in your bones yet you feel the energy in your veins and it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing makes sense and everything hurts and just—why?

“C-Can’t…breathe,” you manage to gasp out. As much as you want to stay awake, afraid of what your older brother might do to you if you pass out, you can see your vision starting to blur and your brain beginning to turn into mush. Your hands are loosening their grip around his arm that’s holding you captive. He’s squeezing your throat tighter and tighter.

You just needed someone—needed your onii-san to help you during this fucked up time between you and Atsumu. Usually he’d be on top of you like this, fucking you until you cry for him and cum all over his cock. You’d moan and drool and beg—anything for him to claim you over and over again. Instead of seeing stupid bleached hair and flirty eyes, you see black curls and dispassionate voids gazing at you as you’re about to pass out and it’s like he doesn’t even fucking care! You just wanted to feel better and to feel your onii-san’s comfort again and he decides to touch you and—

He presses his forehead against yours all of a sudden, and you can barely hear him when his lips start moving. “...What?” you choke out through wheezes. 

“If you want me to let go, you have to let me fuck you as hard as I want,” he repeats himself firmly. You don’t realize that he’s stopped moving inside you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. All you know is that you need to breathe and maybe that desperation is what makes you attempt to nod your head in agreement. A smirk appears on Sakusa’s face and before you can even register what's going on, he’s straightening up to thrust his cock even deeper into your core and he finally lets go of your throat. 

You’re coughing and sputtering, oddly embarrassed at how much saliva you’re spitting out, and you’re hyper aware that you have him inside you again, deep inside you and painfully stretching you to the point where you’re afraid that he’s going to rip you in half. Sakusa grabs the backs of your thighs and presses both your knees against your chest again, leaving his hands there to hold you down once more and to expose your pussy to the cold air. You feel the warmth spread across your cheeks from how embarrassing it is to be on full display and how repulsive it is that it’s Sakusa between your legs to ogle at you as much as he pleases. You wonder what changed between you two—has he always felt this way? It makes you sick to your stomach to imagine that your brother that you love so dearly and looked up to your whole life wants you and it’s diabolical how this is what he wants from you.

And when he starts thrusting harder than before, slamming his cock into you with such a force that your body lurches with his movements, your brain is back to turning into mush and a part of you wishes that you did pass out—at least you wouldn’t have to be conscious to feel everything. You can’t help but let out quiet whimpers and gasps that don’t even sound like you. It hurts—the stretch of his thick cock is so unbearable and his hands on your thighs are sure to leave ugly bruises. 

“You feel so good,” he almost laughs, like he can’t believe this is happening. You are as soft as he imagined, maybe even more, and how easily your pussy starts creaming around him makes his heart skip a beat. When he presses his forehead against yours again, you want to recoil even though you physically can’t. You don’t want to look him in the eyes yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t even know if you can hate him after this and Sakusa knows that—how you love him so much, even if it’s not the way that he wants you to—

—because you need him. 

It’s nauseating how much you still need him. It’s horrifying how your legs are beginning to shake from how deep he is and how he’s shoving himself against your cervix unkindly. Most of all, it’s disgusting how you can feel—even hear—the puddle pooling from your cunt, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his size—and maybe in the midst of your hysterical state, maybe Sakusa feels good, too.

You can’t admit that—you definitely don’t want to—but for fuck’s sake, you know what your body likes and although it’s Sakusa punishing you in the worst way possible, you recognize that tightness in your stomach—the corrupt feeling that makes you scream and cry and beg, that makes your body writhe in desperation to have more. Fuck, it’s morally wrong but at the same time, your body loves to feel full and stretched to its limits. You’re so sad that Atsumu “broke up” with you (you weren’t really dating in the first place) because Atsumu knew your body so well and his dick was huge. You really shouldn’t be comparing since the thought is so sickening, yet the way Sakusa is splitting you open is different—so different from Atsumu with no gentleness, no delicacy, just pure lust and a desire to fuck you until you faint and it’s…better. It shouldn’t be better, shouldn’t feel as good as it does, but it's better.

When the realization hits you, the shame and embarrassment floods your stomach, too—how could you let your own brother fuck you like this and how could you enjoy it? And now you’re angry at yourself, for how Sakusa is making you feel, how your body is reacting, how raw and wet your pussy, how Atsumu blindsided you, how this whole situation is so fucking unfair.

“Omi-nii,” you whine with a dry throat, reaching up to grab his thick biceps, all tensed up and veiny from gripping your thighs and turning them purple. His muscles are so well-defined that you almost forget that he’s your brother and start melting into his skin. The base of his cock is hitting your clit every time your hips meet, sending shocks of pleasure all throughout your core. The walls of your cunt are convulsing around him. It shouldn’t feel good, it really shouldn’t, but the burning sensation on your thighs from having your knees pressed against your chest to expose your cunt and Sakusa carving the shape of his cock into your pussy is the best fucking thing you’ve ever felt in all your years of living. As guilty as you feel for wanting more, you start to beg for him, “Please make me cum, Omi-nii.”

A smug smile plays on his lips. Your pussy is dripping everywhere, making wet noises every time Sakusa moves, and he thinks he’s finally satisfied. Not completely though, because he wants you to squirt on his cock and he wants you to squirt on his cock every night from now on. He deserves it, deserves this, deserves to be the one inside of you and claiming you and pumping you full of cum.

He leans down and captures your lips with his once again, and this time you let him slip his tongue against yours in a messy passionate kiss. When he lets go of one of your thighs to rub at your clit with his thumb and your body tenses up harshly as a result, he sneers at you, “Cum all over my cock, you bitch.” 

Then your cunt tightens around him and you hate that he’s being so mean to you but you cry and scream and dig your nails into his muscles like you’ve never came before because you like how mean he is and the only thing you can pathetically moan is Onii-san~!

He doesn’t stop when you cum, chasing his own high to drown your pussy in his sticky seed and hopefully force another climax out of your body to feed his ego, so he wraps his hands around your throat again while you’re delirious and kisses you again and again. “You can fuck whoever you want,” he mutters against your plump lips, “Think that you know what love is when you have some other loser inside you—” 

 “—but this stupid cunt is all mine.”

[sweetimpurity]

Beach day fluff! Had to get this out of my drafts! Too bad summer is ending ;(

I love imagining Miguel coming out of the water glistening and perfect, drinking beer in the pool and playing with Gabi in the water at the beach. But after thinking about it, I think that Miguel would actually be a huge ‘poolside princess’

It would apply to both being at the pool with him and going to the beach. Even if you’re going with Gabi and the group, Peter and Mj with their kids and Jess with her family too. Maybe even Gwen and Miles join as well, the whole gang could be there. And he’s watching them all splash and play in the water and in the sand, all from the comfort of under the umbrella.

It took you literal days to convince him to come to the beach with everyone. It was a planned day and originally you were just going to take Gabriella and meet up with everybody else.

He gave you a list of reasons why he didn’t want to go but you asked him again and again and it finally came out. He didn’t want to feel left out.

“So come with us, we want you to come” You insist. An easy answer to the problem. “No, it’s better for me to just stay here. I’m a buzzkill at the beach, believe me.” He insists. You don’t believe him. And you keep trying to accommodate him and make him feel comfortable. He’s your husband, of course you want him to be included and feel comfortable at the same time.

It’s the heat. Miguel gets so hot and then he gets irritable and angry and frustrated. So he’s given up on trying to have fun at the beach. You’re determined to change that. You bought a new umbrella and new beach chairs this year. You brought cold water and cut up fruit in the cooler.

Gabriella couldn’t be more excited that her father is joining everyone. She bounds with excitement as you’re all getting ready. You’re helping her into her lilac bathing suit and trying to put some sunscreen on her little face to protect her baby skin. Miguel helps you pack everything into the car and grab Gabi’s swimming stuff from the garage.

And when you make it there, meeting Peter B and Mj, Jess and her husband and all the little ones running around, you set up shop and open the umbrella, insisting to your slightly grumpy hubby that everything will be fine and he’ll be comfortable. He keeps his darkest sunglasses on because thats the other thing. The sun is so harsh on his eyes. That’s why he keeps the lights mostly off in his office. His eyes are so sensitive to light and the sun reflecting off the water is like knives to his corneas.

And it’s also been so long since he’s been to the beach that he hasn’t really gone swimming in a while. Probably convinced himself that the water will be too cold and overstimulate him too.

“There’s a breeze, baby…” You smile, trying to make it seem fun and like he won’t have a horrible time. It’s not that he wants to be a grump, it’s just that he knows he’s not fun at the beach and he doesn’t want to ruin the day for everyone else. “You just sit and relax, okay? If you’re hot let me know…” you hold his face, pecking his smiling lips before turning to meet Gabi by the water and he gently slaps your bum on the way over. He couldn’t resist. You’re wearing that bathing suit he really loves.

Giggling and glancing back at him as you’re walking away and catching that smile on his face. Oh yeah. You’re determined to make him have fun today.

You, Peter B, Gabi and Mayday all make a huge sandcastle with a moat and are decorating the walls with seashells that the kids found. Miguel watches, smiling and feeling the slight breeze on his skin from the safety of the shade. It’s still hot but he’s not burning up and your kindness and care makes him feel a million times better anyway. He's really grateful for your patience.

“Papa! Come in the water please please porfi!” Gabi squeals, running over to him with her floaties on her arms, grabbing his large hand and trying to pull him up. He coos to her in soft spoken Spanish and you shake your head grinning, walking up to the both of them under the umbrella. “Gabi girl… let Papa stay cool okay?” You try to urge your daughter, but seeing Miguel get up surprises you.

“Yeah, I’ll come in.” He says it like it’s nothing. “You will??!” You and Gabi both squeal in unison. It’s like a miracle, neither of you can believe. “Come on come on!” Gabi practically screams, pulling his hand and he emerges from under the shade and into the sun. You smile watching the sun wash over his back. His skin glowing and broad muscular back on full display. That’s the other thing you’ve been missing out on. How dare he deprive you of his perfection?

You run up beside them, grabbing your husband’s other hand, the three of you walking to the water and Gabi runs in first. She’s already been a little fish all day so the water feels warm to her. “Come on babe…” You encourage and he winces slightly at the freezing water lapping over his legs. His senses going off like alarms. His sensitivity to temperature and changes in the environment are just so strong and unpredictable. It amazes you that such a big indestructible man can be so sensitive but that's what you love about him. “Just give me a minute…” He nods, still holding your hand and standing knee deep, adjusting and watching Gabi frolic around in the shallows. You wait with him patiently, giving him all the time in the world to be comfortable. Leaning into him and wrapping your arm around his waist, your hand on the hot skin of his back, head on his shoulder. He rests his head on yours, both watching your daughter having the time of her life. His big hand running up your side and to the back of your neck, just glad that he's here and included in today's fun.

"Okay I'm ready." He suddenly says, stepping forward and marching past Gabriella who's trying to grab onto his legs, giggling all the way. "You can take it slow!" You call to him. Is he crazy? He's just gonna go in just like that?

"Daddy I'm swimming too!" Little Gabi tries to follow him as the water gets deeper and then in the blink of an eye, Miguel's completely submerged with a big splash. You eyes widen with a gasp and Gabi squeals with excitement. Peter B and Jess hollering from the beach, watching the scene unfolding.

You don't see him, not under the crashing waves and the splash that erupted when he crashed into the water, not until Gabi's squealing and her father lifts her up from under the water, her little arms wrapping around him as he emerges from the blue glistening ripples. "I got you!" He growls and she giggles and squeals, her little voice spouting a million words at once, she's just so excited.

"My god..." You sigh, smiling and shaking your head. How did you get so lucky? You walk deeper into the water, kneeling down in the shallows where Gabi stands on Miguel's lap. Splashing each other gently in the water and having fun. "Ma!" Gabi whines, reaching out to you and trying to wrap her arms around the both of you at once. The freezing water from her skin making your back break out in goosebumps.

"Gabi! May found hermit crabs!" Peter calls from the shore. A group of them crowded around Mayday chattering excitedly about her finds. "Oooh!" Gabriella squeals, running off and out of the water to see.

"Whiplash..." Miguel sighs, shaking his head and smiling at Gabi's excitement and moving closer to you in the water. Sitting on the sand as the water laps around your waist and arms, the waves crashing on you two. "Yeah, right?" You laugh softly, watching Gabi run off to the rest of the group on the beach and making sure she's safely on the sand.

"You're right, this was fun. You having fun?" He asks, lifting a hand to your shoulder, the freezing cold water giving you shivers at it meets your hot sun kissed skin. "I'm having a lot of fun..." You smile, looking in his eyes. "More fun now that you're having fun too"

He smiles warmly, rubbing your back gently with his hand. The water lapping around you both in the shallows. Gabi is still on the beach with everyone, squealing and giggling about hermit crabs in May's blue bucket. Her little voice seems to carry across the whole beach.

You lean on Miguel, your head on his chest, your backs to the horizon and watching your little girl bounding across the sand.

[actuallysaiyan]

Can I get #15 with Endeavor 🫣🫣

warnings: yandere themes, Enji is divorced, vaginal fingering, spanking my first time writing Enji...please be gentle

The number two hero was more than just a hot-head. He was irritable, angry and prone to anger. He was like a bomb waiting to go off at any second. That’s why everyone was so surprised when you said you were dating him. Nobody could truly wrap their heads around it.

Why would someone as sweet as you date such an angry man? Especially considering the age gap and the awkwardness that followed his divorce with his wife.

But you saw something else inside of him. You saw a man trying to reunite with his children despite his shortcomings, errors in his life and the trauma he didn’t necessarily mean to inflict on them. You saw a man who was beaten down by his own insecurities.

Yet he was so possessive. It turned you on, but it scared you in ways you couldn’t even comprehend. The way he always needs to have a hand on you whenever the two of you are out and about. The way he glares at any man that looks at you. It’s all things that make your head spin.

Even when you two are intimate, you have a safeword in place just in case he takes things too far. He’s quite the dominant man. He does everything in his power to make you see just how much you mean to him and how he owns you.

So tonight when you come downstairs wearing that skimpy little dress to go out on your date, Enji looks at you with his blood boiling. There was no way you thought that dress was appropriate for a dinner date. You must be trying to rile him up. He holds his arm up to keep you from moving forward, pushing you back.

“Enji! What’s the matter?” You tilt your head to the side.

He shudders, trying to keep his anger in check. “Angel, I’ll give you a minute to understand why I’m angry.”

You wrack your brain. You wonder what could have happened within the time it took for you to get ready. Then you watch as he’s fixated on your body. Your cheeks burn and you try to tug the hem of your dress down to cover yourself even more.

“Angel, baby…” Enji breathes in deeply. “Please…”

You try to push past him, but he’s shaking his head. He’s got a very tight grip on you now. You whine and pout, but he’s not budging.

“Let’s go! Come on! I don’t want to be late!”

“Hah! Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

That’s all it takes for you to stomp your foot in a bratty way and for him to grab you and bend you over his knee. He sits on the couch, pushing your dress up over your hips. You’re wearing the tiniest little thong, and it makes his cock so hard. Of course you’re dressed like this for him, but if anyone would see you, he’d be so angry he wouldn’t know what to do.

“Thought you’d be a brat huh? Well now we’re not going to dinner!”

Before you can even say anything, he swats at your ass. You moan softly, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. He spanks your ass a few more times, making you cry out. Then he soothes his hand over your red-hot skin, slowly moving his fingers down to your clothed pussy. He begins to rub your clit, watching as you squirm for even more pleasure.

“How about this…” he starts as he pushes your panties to the side. “If you’re a good girl for me and you only cum when daddy says so, then you can decide on what we’ll have for take-out.”

You let out a loud moan when two of his fingers slip inside of you, stretching you out. With gritted teeth, you nod and accept his little challenge.

dividers by: @adornedwithlight

Send me a prompt and character and I'll write you a short Drabble!

[charnelhouse]

I feel like Joel would be best at ‘you almost got yourself killed and I’m so angry at you but I love you also’ fucking

A/N: Joel Miller x F!Reader. Lack of CPR knowledge. Smut. Hypothermia. I used this gif bc he looks really fucking hot ok

Joel dreams of you often. He doesn’t tell you this, refuses to admit it as if the confession of dreams would somehow weaken his defenses. In the foggy, wooly vortex of sleep, he sees you:

Dead.

Broken.

Covered in spores. 

It irritates him. He has learned the brutal, ragged details of loss and having nightmares about the girl he’s fucking is not good. It means that some tiny unconscious piece of him fears for you-to lose you would sting. It is a chip in his armor. A weakness. 

He lies in his makeshift bed as he stares up at a ceiling speckled with moss and water damage. You’re curled against him, bare ass snug against his thigh. He takes deep pulls from a bottle of dust and whiskey. Between his legs, his cock is soft and damp from fucking you into the mattress. His back smarts from your nails and he doesn’t understand how their sex is so aggressive and yet he finds you in his head afterward. He’s fucked countless people. Never cared. It’s his psyche that worries about you when it should be flat, pulse-less and numb in the dark. 

His gaze slides to you sleeping beside him. Your face is buried in the sweatshirt serving as a pillow, your mouth parted around steady, even breathing. Swamped in moonlight, you’re beautiful—the kind of beauty that would get you killed or worse out there. That’s why I keep, right? Some leftover smugness at having someone like you with someone like me?

He leans over your body, the bottle swishing its dregs of old whisky. With gentle fingers, he maneuvers your hair away from your face, he touches your lower lip before abruptly pulling away. 

Not good. 

***

Being who he is, Joel keeps fucking you. He tries to be a little meaner—colder—but he’s not man enough to release you in order to find someone less complicated to warm his bed.  

You stick by him like a barnacle. A very pearly one. Smooth and shiny. 

“We have things to do,” he declares one morning, the slip of red dawn drifting over your skin from the narrow window. 

“Alright,” you murmur as you roll out of bed and shove on your jeans. 

You don’t complain or whine, which he hates. He’d love for you to backtalk him. He’d die for an ounce of sass or bitchiness, but you’re too fucking smart for that. You know what it costs. You know that he’ll use it against you and then chastise you for wastin’ time because this is what they do now. This is how the world works. 

Someone took something from us and I intend to get it back.

Us. 

When did it become us? 

Fuck.

***

They follow the road at the edge of the forest. The woods stink of loam–sweet and dark. The first snow has powdered the ground.

The cold is wicked, binding his limbs together and reminding him of his age. He’s not really that old. It’s only been eight years since the outbreak (his birthday). 

“I hate winter,” you grumble, the subtle evidence of your frustration that you’ve been forced out here to begin with. Most of the time, he thinks he should keep you at his place when he runs these missions, but he’s decided that you’re safer with him. He doesn’t miss the way the creepy old fucks look at you and there’s no such thing as locks. Not now. Not here.

“Fuck!” you yelp and Joel hears your boots skid, knee cracking on asphalt. “Shit. Shitt.”

“C’mon,” he grunts, not even looking. He doesn’t want to. He thinks that if he sees you in pain, he’ll go to you.

You curse a few more times before your footsteps sound again.

You catch up to him with alarming speed, casting him a violent glare. “What if I’d broken something?”

“I’d come back for you after I handle the Waltons.”

“Sure,” you reply flatly. “Probably drag me back home by my ankle.”

His lips twitch. They’re making good time, maneuvering rapidly through the dense woods toward the lake. His adrenaline is spiking, his fingers curling as he prepares himself for the inevitable fight. “Hardly, sweetheart,” he replies. “I’d wrap a rope around your waist—pull you that way.”

“Cruel.”

“You’ve always known that, darlin’.”

“You’re–”

He freezes and then abruptly grabs you before pulling you against a tree. One of the Waltons is outside their cabin, chopping wood. Behind him, the smoke puffs from the chimney. Black-gray against the too-blue sky. 

“We wait until he goes inside,” he whispers against your ear. You’re bleeding-hot and his hand is secured right under your breast. Surprisingly, your heart pulses at an easy rhythm. You aren’t scared or nervous. You’re calm as can be and really that’s probably why he keeps you around.

And maybe the sex. 

***

It’s fucked. The whole damn thing. 

Joel is covered in blood, two fingers definitely broken. The man on top of him has him in a chokehold and he’s shoving back against him, trying to find some leverage to flip him over. 

He hasn’t heard you for a minute and when he lifts his head, he sees one of the Walton boys—the greasy, blonde one—pinning you against the dock. You’re too far away from Joel as he watches you kick and spit like a feral cat. 

You don’t call for him. You don’t scream his name or beg him for help and it’s because you’re too fucking proud and you probably think he’d get fucking mad at you or something, which isn’t the case. 

So, he shouts your name. Why? He doesn’t know. It bursts out of him as the head Walton punches him in the ribs.

“Ss’fine,” you yell back and then the sun catches the silver blade of your pocket knife. It flashes once before disappearing and the blonde Walton squeals.

Thatta girl, he thinks. The expression feels tender—sweet with pride and he’s so caught up in watching you stab the kid that he doesn’t realize what’s going on until it’s too late. 

The blonde snags your jacket and rolls you both into the frigid lake. 

Joel doesn’t think. He may have roared or bellowed, but he wouldn’t know. He can’t recall. Instead, he plants his hands and snaps his head back into his attacker’s nose. It cracks. Splatters. He feels heat on his scalp and in his hair. The weight on him is gone and he twists, finding his knife a few feet away in the snow. He snatches the handle, flips it and plunges the blade forward. It goes through the guy’s chest—finds bone. He rips it back and does it again. A third time in a more vulnerable spot beneath the bastard’s jaw. There’s blood on his face, but he can’t worry about that now.

He runs to the lake. 

***

“C’mon, girl,” he whispers frantically as he performs CPR. Your lips are cold as a fish belly. Your lashes wet and stuck together in clumps. He presses against your chest so hard that he worries he’ll break a rib. 

You weren’t even under that long.

He pumps and then pinches your nose and breathes into your mouth. C’mon. C’mon. C’mon. 

You twitch. Yes. You choke. Better.

“That’s it, darlin’,” he urges.

Your eyes fly open as you sputter, coughing up icy lake water that dampens Joel’s jeans. Relieved, he sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you from moving too quickly. His fingers have begun to smart, the knuckles swelling to purple.

He’s not sure what to say as you blink up at him—incredulous and a little frightened. WIthout thinking, he darts down and kisses you hard. It might not even be considered a kiss. Just an angry collision of teeth and a hint of tongue. He tries to warm your mouth with his own before pulling away. He didn’t intend to do that.

“Joel?” you rasp, lids drooping heavily.

“You almost died,” he states in a flat voice. Should he comfort you? Reassure you that you’re fine? He’s not sure how to do that. He’d done it before with Sarah, but–

He shudders, stuffing that thought somewhere he’ll not touch.

“J-Joel.” Your teeth are chattering in your mouth. Your eyes slightly unfocused. “Mm cold.”

“Well,” he replies matter-of-factly. “We can go in the cabin and figure that out.”

He says this like you couldn’t potentially die of hypothermia. 

***

Inside the house, a fire still burns. It’s orange-yellow as a Texas peach and his mouth instinctively waters. He hasn’t had fresh fruit in a long ass time. 

Your fingers are curled into his shirt, your cheek pressed flat to his chest. You’re freezing—stiff and unyielding as a corpse. He places you on the rug in front of the fire before scouring the house for blankets and sheets. When he finds them, he makes a nest on the floor and then crouches down behind you to rub your shoulders. 

It doesn’t seem to do much because you’re still trembling. Your hair is soaked and your clothes–

Jesus. He’s a fucking idiot. 

“Lift your arms,” he murmurs, but you keep on shaking, seemingly unable to move them. He does it for you. He gets your jeans off, mindful of the areas where bruises will begin to form. “Did he hurt you?”

“S’nothing-g bad.” Your words are staggering into each other like you’re drunk. Not an ideal sign.

He scrubs a hand over his face, his beard. He exhales sharply as he watches you stammer and ripple like a ribbon in the wind. 

He’s on his knees in front of you—staring like a damn fool. “What do you need?”

Your hands fumble in the blankets, your expression puzzled. Shit. What are the symptoms of hypothermia? Confusion? Exhaustion?

He says your name softly and you make a broken noise that startles him.

He doesn’t know how to provide you reassurance. He understands actions. He understands pleasure. Isn’t the best way to heat someone up through skin contact?

He wrenches his jacket off before finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head . He unbuckles his belt, shimmies out of his pants. You stare up at him, your eyes glassy and red. 

“Skin to skin,” he explains and when he opens his arms, you fall into them. You press yourself against him, curling your cold body inward as he attempts to cover you with his own. He strokes your arms, legs and waist. He maneuvers you around so that he can press his front to your torso. He grips your thigh and hauls it over his hip before pulling the musty blankets over them. He doesn’t want to think about how unwashed they probably are, but they don’t have a choice. 

He settles as you relax against him. Your heart pounds a brush faster than before. Good. 

“Rest,” he instructs. “You’re okay.”

It’s the best he can do.

***

It takes a few hours for you to return to yourself. You pull away so you can stare up at him. He tips his chin to hold your gaze, his hand finds your cheek. “You almost died,” he says and, suddenly, he thinks of the dreams he’s had. He thinks of you gone from him, vanishing into the dark where he can’t find you. 

He’d saved you today, but the next time? Surely, there would be a next time and—

“Thank you.” You lean into his touch, nuzzling your nose into the creases of his palm. Not as distressed as he would like.

“You almost died,” he repeats. “I could fucking kill you.”

Your eyes widen. “Why?”

“It was a stupid move.”

You frown. “Was there another option I had?”

“You could’ve not come with me.”

Your tongue darts across your lower lip as you lift an eyebrow. “Ah–so really this is about you.”

Of course it damn well is. It’s always him. He can’t afford you getting yourself stabbed or beaten or drowned.  

“I could kill you,” he growls as he grips your hips and flips you on your back, eliciting a yelp from your lungs. He wedges himself between your thighs, sliding his mouth over your puckered nipple and then your belly. 

You wiggle, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist. 

He kisses the scar beneath your ribs and then the top of your cunt. He licks the warm crease between your folds just to tease you before he climbs back up.

He plants his arms on either side of your head as he bears his weight above your body. He’s hard, his cock full and bobbing against his belly. He feels your small hand drift over his hip, the wiry hairs at his groin before it wraps firmly around his shaft. It jumps in your hand, desperate for you in a way he doesn’t mean to show.

“You can kill me,” you whisper and he drops his head to capture your lips. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth, slipping it behind your teeth. It’s a wet kiss–dirty and panicked and i fucking hate you so much because it’s so damn obvious that i don’t. You give him an experimental stroke, thumb pressing into the head. He grunts, jerking forward. 

“I want to feel you,” he confesses and it’s the most honest thing he can say here. Not i don’t want to see you dead ever. Not i really care about you. 

Just feel. 

You smile sweetly before guiding him into the molten suction of your pussy. It takes nothing for him to claim you. He sinks inside, straight to the hilt. He shoves his hips forward so that you’re forced to take all of him. Even when he’s buried balls deep, he leans on his arms, one hand clasping the top of your skull so he can push further. Your nails bite into his ass. You arch.

“Fuck,” you rasp, breath hitching. “Fuck–oh my god.”

They’re sealed together. Breasts crushed to his chest. Stomachs flattened. He uses his thighs to spread legs wider. He pins you there, enjoying the way your heart snaps against your ribs as if it could buffer his own.

“Thatta girl,” he coaxes, managing to plunge deeper. Something low vibrates in his throat. Something half-human. He can’t breathe, overwhelmed by the scent and feel of you, and so he sits aback on his heels, grips your knees and forces them against your tits. “You gonna take it for me?”

Your eyes roll back, cunt contracting around him. “Yes.” 

Not loud enough. He spanks you between your legs, right against the tender flesh wrapped around his cock. It hurts both of them. You whine and reach for him. Yes. Yes. Yes. Joel. Please. 

He eases himself out to the tip before driving forward. The force knocks you up the floor, causing your back to scrape against the wooly blankets. Another sharp thrust that punches a gasp from your throat. You shut your eyes, holding your legs open for him as he continues. It’s rough in its own way. Not the worst he’s done, but his strokes are deliberate and powerful. He fucks you hard enough that he can hear it. The slick noises that accompany every stab of his cock.

He has half a mind to say what he’s trying to through sex. When he’s nearing the end, he lowers himself over you, broken fingers pinching your chin. The pain in his hand welcome, adding a bite to the act itself. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you open your eyes. He fucks you and fucks you and every slam of his hips makes your lashes flutter. “Look, darlin’.”

“What?” you hiss because he’s taunting you –holding you firmly over the edge and shit–he loves that about you. When push comes to shove, you’ll make it known when you’re pissed. He loves the fact that you never screamed for him as you tried to save yourself. He hates it and loves it and he’s really fucked up. 

He swallows hard before pressing their foreheads together. “You won’t do that again,” he warns.

“Do what?”

Another perfunctory snap of his cock.

“Fuck–Joel.”

You’re shuddering in his arms, walls spasming around him. You’re one screaming nerve of sensation. You almost died. 

“You won’t do it.”

You say nothing. Instead, you nod as you tighten around him, heels digging into his lower back. He’s certain you know what he means. He just didn’t want to say it out loud.

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Heatwave

Hiromi Higuruma x Reader SMUT, 18+ only, MDNI ao3

The power is out in your apartment, a record heatwave has been raging for three days. You're hot, you're exhausted, you're miserable. Your husband has the perfect plan to help you sleep.

This was inspired by the other night when my power went out and I was miserable sweating in bed and wasn’t the nicest to my partner, sorry baby, I love you. Thanks for understanding. <3 enjoy y’all.

It was hot. Too fucking hot. Skin meltingly hot. Brain boiling-ly hot. The heatwave had been going on for two days already, and previously it had been a nuisance that you could escape from in the chill of your air conditioned apartment. But this evening the power went out, plunging the small two bedroom into not only darkness, but slowly rising heat that was now becoming unbearable.

It was past midnight, the window in your and Hiromi’s bedroom was open, allowing some air to circulate, but did next to nothing to mitigate the heat. You couldn’t sleep if you wanted to, you had kicked off the covers, leaving your body exposed, you had forgone pajamas and desperately craved the icy blow of your bedroom fan, sitting impotently at your bedside. Your husband, Hiromi, was asleep next to you, or you assumed he was asleep. He hadn’t been moving, he was turned on his side, facing away from you. He too, had opted to sleep naked, the heat bothering him just as much. You were so envious of him right now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You had to work in a few hours, and you knew the longer you were up sweating, the more irritable you would be tomorrow. You huffed in frustration, feeling angry tears stinging your eyes. You just wanted to sleep.

“Still awake?” Hiromi’s sleep-thickened voice erased the silence of the bedroom.

“Yes.” You hissed miserably, turning your head to face him as he rolled over to lay on his other side toward you.

The covers were bunched around his legs, one of his long legs above the comforter, one tucked underneath. He was sweating too, his tan skin glistening in the faint moonbeams that streaked through the bedroom window. He looked like he was shimmering, small droplets of sweat peppering every inch of him. You looked at his sleepy eyes, focused closely on you in the dark. His heart ached seeing your brows furrowed and your frowning lips. His large, wiry hand touched your cheek lightly, his fingertips cool against your skin. For once his poor circulation was coming in handy.

“My love…” his tone was apologetic, as though he had turned off the power himself, and imposed this misery upon you.

Hiromi’s cold fingers felt so nice against your flushed cheek, a moan slipped through your lips, coaxing a smile from him. He trailed his fingertips down your cheek bone and across your lips, the feverish heat of your body soon robbing his fingers of their chill. You once again were too hot and too sweaty, altogether too uncomfortable to sleep.

You sat up frustrated, burying your head in your hands, finishing your hair wet with sweat. Hiromi sat up scooted closer to you, he wanted desperately to hold you, cuddle you back to sleep and help you rest. But he knew touching you would only make you both hotter so he opted to rest against one of his arms and watch you closely.

“Maybe I should just get in the shower, it’ll cool me off for a little while.” You mumbled into your knees, already dreading the idea of showing in the pitch dark of your bathroom.

You had no window in the bathroom so even the moonlight couldn’t penetrate that darkness. You weren’t afraid of the dark, no one liked the dark. Especially not being naked and vulnerable in the dark. This sparked an idea in Higuruma’s mind. He slipped out of bed, standing to his full height, and sliding on his discarded boxer shorts from the previous day. He crossed around the bed and kissed your forehead.

“One second.” His voice was giddy with excitement as he padded through the dark into the kitchen.

You could hear the opening and shutting of the refrigerator, some cupboards, followed by the sound of Hiromi giggling to himself. How he could manage to be so happy while you were so miserable, you had no idea, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be upset with him. He was usually so serious, so sullen and focused all the time from overwork and his own battle with depression. Whatever he was up to was clearly bringing out the smiley and excitable man you had fallen in love with.

“Close your eyes,” his voice came from the otherside of the bedroom door, you obliged.

You felt him approach you, feeling the energy of his body closing in on yours. You couldn’t fight the smile on your lips as he stopped in front of you, you wanted to reach out and hold onto his hips in anticipation. But before you could move, you felt something against your mouth, gloriously cold, so perfectly, soothingly numbing that you gasped. Your eyes snapped open to see Higuruma kneeling before you, a bowl of ice resting next to him. He was sliding one ice cube against your bottom lip, cool water dripping down your chin as it melted.

“Oh Hiro…” you mewled out, grateful tears picking at your eyes, full and wet looking at him with so much love.

“Let me help you cool down, love. Lay back,” he leaned over you, standing again, encouraging you to lie on your back.

You let your back hit the sheets, already feeling some relief from the ice cube he slid down your neck. Goosebumps appeared in their wake, he was hypnotized by watching you change. Watching the ice melt so quickly against your burning skin, watching you release the tension that had been building since the heatwave began. Once the cube in his hand had melted completely, he splayed his icy, wet fingers on your stomach, opting to get the next cube with his mouth, using you for support to lean down. Grabbing the ice between his teeth he started lower this time, dragging it up your shin, water dripping down your calf muscle as he did. Contented moans slipped from your lips as you watched him. Your hands found his hair, expressing your gratitude with your nails against his scalp.

“Hiromi,” you cooed down to him, “ thank you, thank you.”

He was feeling pretty pleased with himself, pulling such beautiful praises from you with his little improvisation. The ice in his mouth was near melting and he sucked it in quickly, cooling his mouth, and kissed the juncture of your hip and your leg. Your hips twitched up barely at the chilled contact, but he noticed.

Higuruma wished he could say this was an entirely selfless pursuit, but the heat wasn’t the only thing keeping him awake tonight, he had roused himself near an hour ago now sporting a massive erection that hadn’t left him since. It had been too hot to fuck the last two nights and he was desperate for you. You were too, but tonight’s frustration had driven you mad before you had time to consider sex.

This time he held one cube in his mouth, and another in between his fingers. His hand held the cube to your lips, which you quickly began sucking at, suddenly noticing your dehydration. Proud of how well you could read his mind, he chuckled to himself, ice still in his mouth and leaned over you. He was kneeling between your legs, body caging you into the bed, as he dipped his head down to your collarbone, sliding the ice against the bone, and up your neck. Your satisfied sounds grew shaky, feeling a whole new form of stimuli. His fingers pushed the ice between your lips, then followed closely into the cavern of your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his middle and index fingers, sliding your tongue along where surface tension held the melted line of water.

He trailed the ice cube in his mouth down, between your breasts, marveling at how quickly your nipples erected themselves. His free hand wrapped around your right breast and he brought the ice across to circle the mound itself. You whimpered around his fingers. Hiromi smiled like a cat. He was so painfully hard, but not even his own pleasure could tempt him away from you right now. You sounded so beautiful under his touch, gasping as he added new ice, tongue slurping around his fingers, your back arching off the mattress as he circled your nipples.

“They’re melting right off of you, faster than I can replace.” He noted, catching your eye from his place between your breasts, “are you feeling cooler?”

You nodded helplessly, he looked so delicious to you like this. Mouth dripping, eyes blown out, his strong nose, his sharp features, his inky hair messy from your tugging.

He couldn’t help himself, he slithered back up to your face, kissing you desperately. Higuruma had always been an excellent kisser, but there were times like tonight where his passion was overwhelming. He kissed you like he was trying to spill all the love trapped in his chest directly into your open mouth. His tongue was like a creature of its own, exploring every texture of your mouth like he was studying you. The ice had cooled his mouth, yours too, so the kiss was creating its own hurricane. Chilled saliva mixing with hot, panting breaths.

You reached down, trying to reach the waistband of his boxers and slide them away, but his torso was so long you were coming up short. You grasped fruitlessly between your bodies, whimpering against his kisses.

“Off, baby, off, please. I need you.” You crooned against his lips, arching your chest into his own, your hands grabbing at his back.

You needed him so bad. He had already helped you so much, but he had fogged your mind completely. You weren’t sure how long you two had been playing his little ice game, but you were sure that it was enough time to have your pussy pulsating in desire. Hiromi chuckled at your pained pleas.

“You need some help, baby?” He slid his tongue against yours again so you couldn’t answer, “you need me to take care of you, is that it?”

You hated (loved) when he got cocky like this. Clearly so happy with himself for finding the solution to your ailments, you were sure that if the lights were on you could see him beaming with pride. You nodded again, hoping he wouldn’t do exactly what he did next.

“Say it.”

“Hiiiiiro…please it’s too hot…please.”

“Not until you say it.” He continued his kisses against your chin and neck, your body starting to heat itself again.

“Hiromi please, I need it so bad. I need you so bad. Please help me, Hiro.” You folded.

You rarely asked for help, in your marriage, in your personal life, at work. The phrase help me existed very rarely in your life, and you liked it that way. You were a capable woman, you didn’t like having to rely on anyone else. Even Higuruma, especially Higuruma. You loved him, and you did need him, but you hated admitting it. You hated the idea that one day the help you required from him would be too much, and he would resent you. But he loved it. He needed you to lean on him, he craved being needed by you. Times where you had fallen sick, and he had been able to wait on you hand and foot were some of his favorites. Obviously he hated when you were uncomfortable, but you so rarely asked anything of him. He wanted so badly to be there to help you. And here it was, a perfect opportunity for him to do just that, and he had. And he had heard you ask him, really ask him, for help. He nearly came untouched right then.

Hiromi quickly shed his underpants and kissed you again, deep and hard, his teeth clinking yours as he could no longer restrain himself. Your hands flew to his neck, pulling him closer to you. You hooked your legs up over his hips and released him for a moment so he could align himself at your core. His dark eyes met yours and you thought his pupils had turned to little hearts as he sheathed himself inside of you.

Everything about Hiromi Higuruma was long. His hands, his fingers, his legs, his nose, his body, and his cock was no exception. It seemed to go on forever as he penetrated you, pushing against your cervix and angling upwards to kiss the spot inside of you that sent stars into your vision. He let out a low howl, his eyes rolling back in his head, hands bruising your hips as he bottomed out.

“Fuck…” he cursed against the skin of your neck.

You whined, turning your head to the side and allowing him more access to your neck, you loved the feeling of his mouth kissing and biting you. The skin of your neck so sensitive, his teeth just barely scraping against the thin, taught skin. He pulled your thigh higher up on his hip, holding it back and allowing him to thrust deeper into you. The sounds of his balls slapping against your ass blended so perfectly with his low, throaty groans, and your choppy whimpers. His body shuddered as your walls clenched around him.

“Baby I’ll cum if you do that, stop.” His voice broke as he moved himself up into his hands, hips jerking into you uncontrollably.

“I want you to cum,” you moved your hands up his torso and chest, then up to his neck, you mewled against him once more, arching off the bed again, “cum inside me, Hiro. Please baby. You feel so good.”

He did, he filled you so completely, he always had, he knew exactly what you needed. He moved one of his hands to yours, bringing it to his mouth and kissing your fingers, regaining control over his thrusts and his breath. His other hand moved over your knee on his hip and down your thigh, bringing his thumb to your throbbing clitoris. You let out a shaky squeal, your jaw dropping in surprise.

“Then you’ll cum too.” He circled your clit perfectly, knowing your body maybe even better than you did.

Hiromi was an excellent, generous lover. He wanted to make you cum again and again before he did. In usual circumstances he would have pulled your orgasm from you with his fingers, then again with his tongue, then once more alongside him as he fucked you. But this was not a usual circumstance, his sweat dripped down his nose, your velvet walls felt so perfect around him, as though you were crafted just for him. Maybe you were? Maybe you and he were created just for one another, to please and love one another forever.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his efforts had your orgasm quickly approaching. Your hands gripped at his back and shoulders, loving the feeling of his lean muscle under your trembling fingers. The only thing leaving your lips was his name chanted over and over again. He could stop his hips from punishing your cervix more and more, his own voice croaking and moaning intelligibly.

“Baby please…I…oh fuck.” Hiromi was teetering on the edge of climax.

“I know. Me too. I love you.” You brought your hand to his face guiding it down to press your foreheads together.

His thrust became slower and more direct toward your g spot, his thumb continuing to rub your clit, your orgasm bubbling up inside of you.

“Kiss me.” Your voice was barely audible, but Hiromi connected your lips instantly.

That was the perfect, final push you both needed to climax together. He pumped twice more, deep inside of you, you could feel the stream of cum painting your insides. He could feel you fluttering around him. You kept your lips connected, panting into each other’s mouths. He stayed inside of you, making sure to keep his cum as deep as he could. The intimacy of being engulfed by you, and you being filled to the brim with him, bodies as close as two people can be, sweat and spit and cum combining together, it had you delirious.

“I love you.” You both breathed out, giggling afterwards at your moment of synchronization.

You clenched up around him once again as he pulled out.

“You tease” he shook his head before moving to lay next to you, catching his breath.

You lay side by side panting together, the endorphins flooding both of your bodies, slowly fading, and the heat returning to your bedroom. You reached over to hold his hand, turning to face him. He looked up at the ceiling, eyes closed, his hooked nose angled up, mouth open. He was playing the evening back in his mind, luxuriating in the warmth of your love and the celebration of that love that you two shared. He intertwined his fingers with yours and turned to face you, his eyes softening as soon as they locked with yours. He took in a breath to profess his love to you once more, but cutting him off the lights suddenly came back on. The whirring of your air conditioner started again, and your bedroom fan began humming. You both smiled in awe. Already feeling the change in the air of your bedroom, you sighed happily, snuggling into Hiromi’s side. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled the comforter over the pair of you.

“One of us has to get up and turn the lights off, you realize.” He kissed your forehead.

You groaned before peeling yourself from his side and starting to migrate to the wall switch. He pulled you back down by your arm making you bounce against the mattress.

“Oh stop, you know you’re not doing it.” He rolled his eyes and stood, his long legs needing only a few strides before he could flip the switch and darken the room again.

You were completely spoiled by him. You were so lucky to be with him, to be loved by him. He had gone so far out of his way tonight to help you feel comfortable. Hiromi slipped back into bed next to you, pulling you back into his embrace, burying his face in your neck.

“I love you, Hiromi.” You kissed his temple. “Thank you.”

“I love you too.” He kissed your cheek, you felt your eyes start to droop as cool air finally curl over your body.

——————————————————————————

Tag request!

@buttercupbitches I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for being my first person to ask for a tag request!!

[stnexus]

SFW + NSFW HEADCANONS…!

ino takuma + mentions of black!fem!reader

MINORS DNI, 18+, RATED R

cw. sfw + nsfw, fluff, smut, tattoos + piercings, slightly switch!ino, little bit of switch!reader, mentions of creampie, choking, oral (male + fem receiving)

names used (?): babe, baby, pretty, sweet girl, daddy, lil daddy

very clingy, loves to touch you

overall pretty calm and laid back

like it takes a LOT for you to ever see him angry

always smiling and joking around

in order for him to fall asleep you have to be laying on top him, like a weighted blanket

has a playlist full of old songs and uses the “whatchu’ know about this” line so much

the type to sit in with you while you’re getting your braids done

**playing with your braiders child and everything (he lowkey eating that baby’s fruit snacks)

he’s the the type to just like getting on your nerves

**“takuma moveee”

**“not until you give me a kiss…”

the type to have a selection of his shirts off to the side just for you because you like sleeping in them

**“alright, these,” he points, “you can wear all the time. but the shirts on the right side, if you touch…i’ll remove your hands and left big toe…no hesitation.”

**you still beg him to let you wear the ones he told you not to take

**but he can’t complain when he sees you in them, just lets out a deep sigh as he stretches his arms out to land a light spank on your butt

loves to help you cook, loves helping you bake just so he can play around and steal food from the pot and lick the batter left in the bowl

loves laying his head on your stomach and points out when it’s growling

**“oooh, someone’s hungry, huh?”

hates just regular texts, either always sending voice messages or unexplained memes/weird + random texts

new message from ‘kuma babyyy <3:

babe…why tf a random dog just bit me on my ass?

[one attachment]

doc said i need ten rabies shots bruh.

yes. the attachment was a picture of his asscheek.

tongue piercing. not up for debate.

tattoo on his back that spans from one shoulder to the other

tattoo right behind his ear, and goes halfway down the side of his neck

tattoo from his wrist and down the side of his pinky.

[NSFW LOCATED BELOW…!]

is a certified munch.

he loves being between your thighs with his tongue lapping at your clit. saliva and your arousal coating his chin as his nose bumps against your cute little bundle of nerves. the cool metal of his tongue piercing against you makes your thighs shake and makes your cries for him even sweeter

praise kink, likes to know he’s making you feel good

**“takuma, r—right thereee. you make me feel so good…”

loves spanking you. until you’re so sore, every brush of his hand or any article of his clothing makes you whimper.

but, also likes kissing your asscheeks once he’s done. his cooler feeling lips pressing into the hot and irritated skin

loves seeing you ride him

his hands tucked behind his head as his body slightly moves with your bouncing, his eyes low as pretty moans leave his lips

likes ordering you around a little bit when you’re on top

**“give daddy a kiss, pretty,” he tells you in a slightly strained voice. watching as you’d bend towards him, your bouncing slowly slightly as your lips connect. “such a sweet girl,” he groans against your lips.

**“i didn’t tell you to slow down. go faster.”

likes to just toy with you some days, seemingly out of nowhere. with no want or need for anything in return.

**he’d have you laid over his lap as he watches tv, his fingers moving in and out of your cunt as he listens to your wetness squelching in response. your face somewhat pushed into the couch as you cry out — creaming around the fingers that he fucks into you. he’d make you cum as many times as he felt like, or until you tap out

he’s a bit of a switch, likes when you plant your hand at the base of his neck, fingers digging into the sides as you find yourself bouncing in his lap once again

**“you gonna cum for me lil daddy?”

**“y—yea baby, can i cum inside? pleaseplease f—uck. you fuck me so good”

needs eye contact when you give him a blowjob. he loves seeing your eyes water as you try to deep throat him. a lazy dazed out smile playing at his lip as he’s almost slightly amused

[koqabear]

2KKKKK!!!! Congrats! I have a song equation!

Tinnitus BUT (demo ver) + enemy!Tae + angst + smut + slight fluff well since they do fuck- but they're still enemies on end.

♫: TXT, Tinnitus (Demo Ver.) // join the 2k event and request something!

"You always tried to tell your friends you don’t get along with Kang Taehyun. Did it work? Absolutely not. Now you’re stuck with him again, and there’s no telling what insanity will take over you tonight."

taehyun x fem! reader // wc: 2.6k (everyone cheer i’m getting the hang of it) // enemies to enemies, hinted fwb (the term friends used loosely), smut, MDNI.

warnings: tyun is an asshole sorry guys. slight hard dom!tyun, a bit of switch!mc, semi-public sex(?), unprotected sex, hair pulling, marking, biting, handjob, slight strength kink, hand restraining, degrading, creampie, slight cockwarming

notes: i’m so close to finally following my own rules abt the word count limit…! (i can’t keep getting away with this 😔)

Kang Taehyun was the bane of your existence— that much was obvious to anyone that spent any time around you.

He was arrogant, cocky, and overall an eye-sore; the first time you met, you actually gave him the benefit of the doubt, getting introduced through mutual friends and eventually forming a group that (unfortunately) included him. 

It was bad from the start. He was a complete smart-ass and had a knack for making casual, blunt comments that would immediately put you down; you’re not even sure what the fuck you did to him, but you do know that you never let a single one of those snide remarks slide— jabbing back just as hard, showing that you weren’t all bark and that your bite hurt more than one would expect— it got to the point where your friends knew that they should hold you back on a leash when you were around each other. 

Sometimes, you couldn’t even look at him; which is why you preferred to go to group events if you were explicitly told that Kang Taehyun would not be there, knowing that you would only ruin the night if you tagged along, more likely to start a fight than to try to actually enjoy yourself.

So to say that you were currently angry as you sat at a random table of a club, gritting your teeth and tapping your fingers against the table as you stared out at the dance floor, unable to look straight in fear of catching a glimpse of Kang Taehyun, was a severe understatement— you were fucking fuming. Your jaw aches from how hard you’re gritting your teeth together.

“Are you gonna dance, or are you so up-tight that you can’t even do that?”

“Leave me the fuck alone. I don’t wanna hear it.”

You’ve been dealing with his witty remarks all night. He’s just come back from the dance floor, hot and sweaty as the sight of a random girl getting all up on him practically made you gag; if you hadn’t been chosen as the designated driver tonight, you would’ve left long ago.

What’re friends for… you think bitterly, staring down at the water you only got to keep yourself occupied— you can feel Taehyun’s stare burning into the side of your face, and it only serves to make you more irritated as time goes on, hoping that he’ll stop being such a creep and look away.

“What is your problem?” you hiss, finally having enough after approximately one and a half songs of him doing this. Like expected, your eyes meet his, and a slow smile creeps its way onto his face as he leans his head back, resting against the booth as he looks at you with low-lidded, hazy eyes— he’s having fun getting under your skin, that much you can tell. You resist the urge to reach over and slap the stupid look off his face.

“Am I doing something wrong?” he asks, and you’re forced to lean toward him slightly from how quietly he talks, barely hearing him over the loud music that blasts all around you— you scoff at his words. 

“Don’t act stupid, you’ve been giving me problems all night— even now, don’t think I didn’t feel the way you were looking at me all weird.”

“I feel bad,” he confesses, ignoring the way you give him a scathing look as he continues, head lolling to the side lazily to watch the packed dance floor, “You looked so pathetic over here by yourself— someone would think your friends ditched you.”

“I’m the designated driver,” you point out through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.” he glances back at you, and you jolt slightly at the way his gaze rakes over you slowly, “‘Cause this…? It's just sad.”

“And what exactly would fun be to you? Practically fucking some other girl on the dance floor to the rhythm of some shitty pop song?” Fuck, he’s done it again. He’s got you riled up and it’s only making you even angrier that he’s able to get you to this point— it doesn’t help that he’s laughing condescendingly at your sudden outburst, shaking his head and muttering something that you’re unable to hear from the obscene volume of the music. 

“Why are you here then?” he asks, tilting his head slightly and raising that stupid brow of his, a habit you’ve quickly come to hate, “To have intellectual conversations with other patrons?”

You don’t know what takes over you. Maybe you’ve finally been pushed to your limit, pent up and frustrated with the fact that your friends continue to brush off the fact that you and Taehyun simply do not get along— your fingers might just break your glass from how tightly you’re gripping onto it, standing up so suddenly that your chair slides away from you— but you do know that this was long overdue and well-deserved, throwing the rest of your water straight at him; a smile twitches at the corner of your lips as you take in the way his eyes screw shut and his brows knit together, left frozen as you take this moment to walk away, before you decide to say fuck it and really show him your bite. 

You walk mindlessly— the dance floor is too packed, and you feel as though your body is way too lit up and restless to try and join in— so you’re making your way to the bathrooms, the hall lonely and poorly lit as you open the women’s restroom, slipping inside and ready to lock the door so you can finally take a moment to compose yourself—

“Are you fucking insane?” you don’t think you’ve ever seen Taehyun like this, eyes alight and livid as he stops you from closing the door, slipping inside and slamming it behind him, taking in the way you only take a step back and yell at him to get out, “You need to start controlling that little temper of yours, cause you’ve really been getting on my nerves recently.”

“Oh really?” you laugh out, incredulous as you take a step toward him, pushing his chest roughly and forcing him to stumble back against the door, “Because you’ve been a total fucking angel, haven’t you? All pretty and proper, such a good boy, right?”

“Not my fault you’re such a wound-up bitch that doesn’t know how to take a joke and have fun,” he spits out, unfazed by the way you corner him and send him a nasty glare, refusing to back down even though you seem like you’ll get physical any second now.

“Take a joke? Have fun?” you seethe, poking his chest as you speak, “Everything that comes out of your mouth is a pathetic attempt at low blow disguised as a joke. So forgive me if I don’t find you funny.”

For once, Taehyun doesn’t know what to say— all he’s able to think of is the way you’ve practically pressed him against the door with your own body, the way his chest dully aches from the way you’ve been poking at him, and the way your own is heaving slightly from how angry you are, lips parted and eyes blown out with rage as they flicker up to take in his expression. 

A moment passes; then, your lips are on his, and his hands are on your waist, jerking you forward and forcing you to close any space left.

What possessed you to do this? You’d rather not think about it, choosing instead to get lost in the feeling of Taehyun and push past the fact that it’s him, the man who likes to degrade others for fun— actually, you think you will think about it, digging your nails into his shoulders and taking in the way he groans slightly against your mouth— and you quickly take this opportunity to take the kiss further, tongue eager to taste him as his hold on you tightens slightly.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips, feeling the way you refuse to part for longer than a second; he frowns, a hand going up to grab at your hair before he’s tugging at it— using it as leverage to pull you away from him, watching the way your head slowly tilts back before your eyes are fluttering open, looking at him with such anger he can’t hold back his breathy laugh. 

“I can’t believe you, you…” he mutters out, and you can already tell he’s about to say something that will morbidly sober your clouded mind. 

“Shut up and put those lips to use,” you sigh, fingers tangling in the nape of his hair before you’re tugging him back toward you— you’re holding back a smile at the way your hands smooth over his shirt, the material slightly damp under your skin and his hair pushed back from how much he ran his hands through it.

Besides the fact that your hand is currently undoing Taehyun’s zipper and his lips have begun to suck and bite at your neck, nothing has really changed; you can still hear him cursing you under his breath, feeling the way he lets out a shaky sigh the moment your hand wraps around his length— teasingly stroking him, making sure to lead him on but not give him enough.   

It’s all a game of cat and mouse, judging by the way he’s just as eager to try and pull sounds out of you. Though, when he sees his current efforts aren’t working, he decides to take a different approach.

One thing you’ll never be able to deny about Taehyun is that he’s strong; he’s proving himself now, pushing you back and making you sit on the sink counter with ease— his hands are rough as he pulls up your dress, sloppy kisses still being laid out across your neck as he huffs slightly at your wandering hands; pulling away before he’s stepping back, slipping his belt off with ease and restraining your wrists with them— quietly, you muse about him being oddly skilled at it, but you’re quickly quieted by the way he tugs at the belt again, tightening the item around your wrists and listening to the way you whine at the feeling.

“Such a smart mouth,” he mumbles, pulling his cock out as he takes a look at you, eyes drinking in your dazed eyes and fucked out appearance with delight, “Too bad you’re too dumb to know when to shut up.”

He’s grabbing your waist before he’s tugging you forward— you slide slightly across the counter, legs spread open as Taehyun stands in between, feeling the way one of them hooks around his waist before you’re tugging him in closer, eyes challenging as you raise a brow impatiently. 

“Don’t give me that look,” he scoffs, allowing his tip to run teasingly along your slit, feeling the way your walls flutter around him in response, “Or I’ll leave you here and make you wish you begged for me while you had the chance.”

“Oh really?” you tilt your head, tugging him closer and feeling the way his tip breaches your entrance for a moment— your breath hitches, and though Taehyun pretends to remain unaffected, you can feel his cock twitch with anticipation. “I’m sure you’re all talk.”

This, Taehyun decides, is about as far as allow you to continue to provoke him; he’s pushing into you with one swift motion, watching the way your voice breaks and your mouth falls open at the feeling of him inside you, thick and warm and full as you clench around him, your pussy already wet from the way he simply couldn’t take his hands off you earlier; you hope he doesn’t notice it, but the way his lips quirk to form his usual arrogant smile definitely isn’t a good thing. 

Taehyun doesn’t give you a chance to adjust. He doesn’t take it slow, doesn’t ask you what feels good or what you like— he simply gauges your reaction and begins to fuck you, grinning at the way you whimper and whine that it feels good, throwing your head back and giving him access to mark your neck and collarbones, making sure to leave enough that you’ll remember this for a long time— after a moment, you realize what he’s doing, cursing under your breath and pulling at your restraints as he simply responds by sinking his teeth into the delicate flesh.

“Gonna make sure you remember this. Make people ask who you got these from,” he whispers, laughing mockingly at the way you whisper out a fuck you, retaliating by sucking harshly right at your jaw, just under your ear, “Feels good? Like knowing it’s me making you feel like this?”

You can barely process what he’s telling you; not when he’s grinding into you so good, his breaths heavy against your skin as he leans back up to kiss you once more— it’s a mess of tongue and teeth as you both fight to remain on top, the only thing you can still have control over as you sink your teeth into his lip meanly; he only reciprocates by fucking you harder, a hand reaching down to rub at your clit as he smiles against your lips, trying to keep control with the way you clench around him.

You’ve realized reluctantly that Taehyun is not all talk— he’s found the spot that has your body tensing and your sounds becoming louder, undoubtedly beginning to filter out the bathroom as Taehyun slaps a hand over your mouth; sending you a harsh glare, his brows furrowing at the way you tighten around him and your mouth falls slack against his palm.

“Be fucking quiet,” he hisses, letting out a hitched breath at the way you only buck your hips in response, your leg locking around his waist and bringing him impossibly close as you look up at him, your eyes dazed and glossy as you feel the way his cock twitches inside you at the sight— his pace picks up, and Taehyun can feel his high approaching, swollen lip bitten at and stuck between his teeth as he takes in the way you squirm under him, tears swelling at your waterline as you whine and moan against the palm of your hand.

Taehyun is the first to unravel; filling you to the brim, the feeling of his warm cum and thick cock that continues to rut into you enough to have you following soon after, chest arching toward him from the way he leans down in a sudden attempt to muffle his sounds, cruel mouth biting at the junction between your neck and shoulder as you merely curse at him in your mind. 

He doesn’t pull out— if anything, he’s still fucking you slowly long after, a slow pace as he mumbles something about keeping you filled; you don’t even have the energy to roll your eyes, resting your head against his own that is still buried in the crook of your neck, attempting poorly to catch your breath. After a moment, the reality of everything seems to set in, and your wrists ache.

“If you tell anyone about this, you’re dead.”

He huffs in amusement. 

“This is embarrassing for me too, you know,” he mumbles, turning his head so you can feel the way he noses along the column of your neck, sighing slowly before he says, “But I wouldn’t be against it happening again. You know, just to put you in your place.”

The moment Taehyun takes this stupid belt off you, you’ll show him what it means to be put in place. 

But for now, you’ll settle with the feeling of his cock still inside you and his arms wrapped around your waist. (For another thirty seconds, it’s been long enough and you’re sure there are others waiting outside by now.)

[alaskasmonsters]

𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 (michael kaiser)

pairing: michael kaiser x gn!reader

contents: flirting, foreign language (german), teasing, petnames, enemies to lovers, mistaking attraction for hatred, reader has anger issues

w/c: 2.486 (istg this was meant to be short,,,)

summary: kaiser is infuriating. there is just something about him that made your blood boil. and when the boy started teasing you in german, knowing damn well you had no idea what he was saying you could only imagine what type of things he was saying about you.

a/n: oh look it’s my favourite trope. mistaking attraction for hatred. <3 kaiser speaks german in this one because *looks at hand* i do what i want :)) you’ll find the translations for what he says at the bottom of the post. they are pulled from my own brain (this is me trying to say i am in fact fluent in german shshshhs) also writing some of kaiser’s lines made me cringe bdhdh ngl he thinks he’s so hot 🙄🙄 and he is also the title is lowkey highkey misleading hahaha

Kaiser got under your skin like no one else did. He always had that particular skill. No matter what he did, no matter what he said, the boy infuriated you to no end.

Everything about him down to his stupid smirk, his playful tone, his insufferable confidence and sometimes even just the way he would look at you… there was nothing in the world that managed to rile you up as much as being stuck in the same room as that boy.

Unfortunately, this was something that happened quite often. Kaiser and you being forced upon each other, like the universe was playing some twisted game, waiting to see who of you would break first and go at each other’s throat.

And you were pretty sure you were losing.

If getting the chance to choke Kaiser could be classified as a loss, that was. Maybe it would be a blessing. Maybe you shouldn’t look a gifted horse in the mouth. Maybe you should just wipe that arrogant smirk off his smug face forever and call it a day. Then you’d be rid of the pest called Michael Kaiser.

The boy who managed to bring out the ugliest side of you. An angry side, a spiteful side, a childish side. A side you did not like about yourself. A side you’d rather ignore, push deep deep down to the depths of your subconsciousness and never let see the light of day again.

You had no idea what you did to deserve this. Why the universe decided to punish you specifically was beyond your comprehension. Haven’t you always been an upstanding citizen? Haven’t you always tried your best to not be an asshole, to not let your anger get the best of you? And yet, and yet, here you were once again, standing in front of Kaiser, who was regarding you with one of his trademark smirks, while you were struggling to keep your cool.

The boy knew exactly how to push your buttons and he never held back. No, he seemed to bathe in your attention, all satisfied smirks and gleaming eyes, and your anger only spurring him on in his mission to be the most infuriating man on the planet.

You didn’t even know who started it this time but you were blaming Kaiser anyway. After all he was usually the one breaking the unspoken rule that was put in place for the two of you that said you were not allowed to interact. Because of how little you got along you were also advised to avoid each other as much as possible.

Regardless of who was the initiator today, it didn’t matter. The damage was already done. The “damage” being you, standing here, chest swirling with burning hot anger and Kaiser, who had nothing better to do than make it worse.

Like fucking always.

You hated Kaiser, and most days you were sure he hated you, too. Still, it was always you who got upset with him and it was always he who liked to make a joke out of the whole situation. Probably because he knew it would only infuriate you more.

The boy loved pushing your buttons.

“Weißt du, du bist echt süß,” Kaiser purred, tilting his head to the side as he regarded you, “Einfach zum Anbeißen.”

You frowned, jaw clenching in irritation as you glared at his smug face, the mocking tone of his voice not going past you.

Even when he was speaking another language. Despite knowing full well you couldn’t understand him and that you hated it. He loved it, though. Speaking German when you were already angry, knowing it only made it worse.

Whatever insults he spout at you or names he called you in the other language, with a fake smile in place, you couldn’t possibly know. But you expected the worst.

“Michael,” you warned.

His eyebrow ticked up at the usage of his first name.

That was only a small triumph. He preferred being called by his last name, especially by you. He was a weirdo who got off being addressed with the title of an emperor, and you weren’t an exception. You knew it made his skin buzz, could see it in the way he’d lit up.

Kaiser nodded, seemingly to himself as he leaned his shoulder against one of the lockers of the dressing room. Why you were even in here was beyond you. Maybe today was the day of bad decisions.

“Und dann ist es noch so einfach, dich sauer zu machen, fast schon witzig,” he continued, not dropping his smirk.

His eyes narrowed at you mockingly, hands pushed deep into his pants pockets. He seemed to look relaxed but you knew he was watching you like a hawk, waiting for what you’d do next. If you’d leave, like you did many times, storm out and slam the door shut behind you or if you’d talk back, something you often couldn’t resist either.

Your jaw ticked. Knowing that Kaiser was well aware of how easy you were to anger and provoking you anyways was something that got your blood boiling like nothing else. Your heart was already thumping wildly in your chest, the sound of it rushing to your ears. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins, spurting you to act, to run or to argue or maybe to punch him. And worst of all, you could already feel the onset of shivers.

It was such a nasty betrayal of your body.

Whenever you got upset, you started shaking. It was most likely the adrenaline but if driven to a certain point of anger it’s something you couldn’t help. Your hands and your shoulders and your legs would start shaking and you’d stand there looking like a stupid chihuahua — at least Kaiser loved to compare you to one of those.

He loved to make fun of you for it. He loved to make fun of you for a lot of things…

Your body moved before you could think.

“You’re a fucking jerk,” you hissed, stepping closer until you were stood right in front of him and digging your finger into his chest.

Kaiser didn’t appear appalled or the slightest bit worried about your trembling form. His grin was sharp, eyes narrowed with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Your anger, like so often, only seemed to spur him on.

He leant forward, pushing off the wall, weight against your finger on his chest increasing as he came face to face with you. Before you knew it his hand was on your face. His fingers found your chin, pointer finger gently lifting it as his thumbs graced your cheeks.

You froze, heart skipping a beat in disbelief at the audacity of this man. Your face flushed, you could feel the anger in your cheeks now.

“Wenn du meinst, Schatz,” Kaiser mused, emphasizing the last word and leant closer, your noses barely a breath apart.

Your hands tightened into fists by your side. You should move. You should push him away, maybe slap him while you were at it but you found yourself frozen, completely shocked by the intrusion of personal space. That was unfair. He couldn’t do that when you were angry.

Wait, no! He couldn’t do that at all!

Kaiser hummed, watching the conflict wash across your face with interest, lifting your chin up higher and dipping his head lower.

That was the moment your brain decided to bid its goodbye, your brain cells frying with its departure.

You had no idea what was happening. Whether Kaiser had just seen something on your face and gracefully decided to take it upon himself to remove it with his lips, or if he had finally thrown his last bit of dignity out of the window and was planning to bite you.

Which didn’t make much sense, because out of the two of you you were certainly the one struggling to keep yourself from being violent with him. He had never even come close, unless he was as good at hiding it as you would like to hope you were.

Kaiser’s face was still moving closer.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what the only logical follow up to this action was and you stopped, not moving away when you easily could have, waiting for Kaiser to seal your lips with his.

But before it could come to that Kaiser stopped, waiting a moment, before drawing back, observing you out of hooded eyes and taking in your…whatever expression you must be making that moment.

If you had to guess it was probably similar to whatever a crashing Windows would be looking like.

“You look like you really want this ‘jerk’ to kiss you, though,” he murmured, still only centimeters away from your lips.

Before you could decide to do anything, like actually push him away or maybe pull him closer or any other insane thing, Kaiser giggled, fucking giggled, before pulling back. He didn’t withdraw without planting a kiss against your forehead, though, making you flinch.

What the-

You gaped at him, blinking. Then you realized what just happened.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you.

You. had. almost. let. Kaiser. kiss. you.

You had almost let Kaiser kiss you!

No, wait, this wasn’t even all there was.

Kaiser had almost kissed you!

Kaiser, the most infuriating man on the planet, the asshole that got off on fighting with you, had almost kissed you. No, he did kiss you! On the forehead. He had planted his lips there, acting like it was the most normal thing in the world. Which it wasn’t!

Who even did that? Who kissed their…their…enemy anywhere?

Your hand touched the space above your brows his lips had touched, as you stared at him. He gave you a challenging look.

“You’re….you’re so? You’re unbelievable!” You stuttered, completely out of your depth.

The both of you had entered new territory with this action of his and you had no idea how to act.

“Oh? Am I?” he asked unconcerned.

You glared at him, raising your finger then changed your mind. Instead you turned around and started stomping towards the door. You could not be dealing with this right now.

You simply refused.

Kaiser chuckled, snatching your wrist. “Come on, don’t be like that. If you wanted me to kiss you you should have just said so.”

You clenched your jaw, somehow managed to talk yourself out of actually hitting him and instead only ripped your wrist from his grip.

“I didn’t !”

“Mh?”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me, you asshole,” you bit out, turning to look back at him over your shoulder, face lowered and eyes narrowed to give him your best glare.

Kaiser looked unimpressed.

“Is that so?” He tilted his head to the side, grin cheeky.

“Oh now you can speak a language I understand,” you growled, winning the inner fight against your voice of reason and facing him again.

“Magst du es nicht, wenn ich deutsch für dich spreche?” He feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart. “Das verletzt mich echt.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and scream. But you didn’t. Because you were strong. So, so strong. And so brave about it.

“You know I hate that. Stop being so fucking infuriating.”

He snickered. “Why are you even so mad at me all the time?“

“Because you’re infuriating!” You deadpanned.

“And yet you find me irresistible.”

“Irresistible not to beat up.”

“How crude.”

“Shut up, already?”

With every moment the urge to wipe that self-satisfied grin from his face became stronger and with it your resolve to hold back slowly started to crumble.

Kaiser seemed to notice. Just like a shark who smelt blood he could always detect your weaknesses.

“Or what?” The challenged, stepping closer, voice lowering into a murmur, “You know, if you don’t stop being so rude I might actually have to kiss you to shut you up.”

You gaped at him, trying to step back and gain more distance between you when he took another step forward but your feet were rooted to the spot.

Was it really so easy to catch you off guard? Was Kaiser really capable of reducing you to such a mess with the threat of a kiss?

The boy laughed softly, enjoying whatever expression you must be making with your face right now. Maybe this time it was similar to a cornered animal.

“I said shut up,” you repeated, but your words had lost their heat and your face wasn’t just flushed from anger anymore.

A few moments ago you had fantasized of punching Kaiser in the face, and now…now he was saying those confusing things like they had been on his mind for a while now and you were unable to shift your focus anywhere but his slowly approaching lips.

Why did he even think of kissing you? You hated him. He hated you. What kind of fucked up game was this?

Kaiser bent forward again, suddenly directly in front of your face. How he had managed to get so close again was a mystery to you.

“Make me,” he murmured, a challenge visible in his eye.

You snarled, your anger finally taking the upper hand as your arm shot forward, fingers burying themselves in the fabric of Kaiser’s collar. You considered pushing him away, forcing him to give you space. Instead, and for no reason you were able to understand you pulled, yanking him down. Then you pressed your lips to his.

Kaiser‘s mouth felt warm against yours, lips both chapped and soft, the hand now on your waist firm. He pulled you closer, returning the kiss with fierce

You shouldn‘t question this. Not right now…maybe never. Yeah, never was probably for the best.

“Maybe you don’t hate me as much as you pretend you do,” Kaiser hummed against your lips.

The words managed to bring you back to your senses. At least partly. At least enough for you to realize what you were doing. And what you were doing was kissing Kaiser, you, who had been given a chance and still chose.

Had you actually just done this?

“You! I- Fuck you!” You hissed.

This was…You hated Kaiser. You hated him. He made you angry. On purpose! What were you doing here…kissing him?

You loosened your grip around Kaiser‘s shirt and used your flat palm to push him away. The boy didn‘t stumble, barely took a step back when you had already turned around, ready to run off.

Kaiser‘s amused laughter followed you as you pushed through the door and rushed down the corridor. His last shouted words, “Bye Schatz!” accompanying you as you disappeared behind the next corner.

You couldn‘t believe what had just happened.

You had kissed Kaiser. And the worst part about it? You kinda wanted to do it again.

translations:

“You know, you’re really cute. I could eat you right up.”

“Not to mention how easy it is to rile you up, it’s almost funny.”

“If you say so, honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’).”

“Don’t you like it when i speak german for you? That hurts me.”

“Bye honey (=verbatim ‘treasure’)”

taglist: @crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @lordbugs

[littlesniggy]

I just want to forget

Hello, here a small something for my Rob Lucci fans. Warning: 18+, mention of s*x, mention of de*th, loss, overall not happy, smoking, numbness, hurt/comfort, non pirate AU, female reader Pairings: Rob Lucci x female reader Word count: 1.2k

Hot smoke is filling your lungs as you take a deep breath in and inhale the toxic air, the scratchiness in your throat and upper air passages a welcoming feeling to the numbness you have been constantly feeling. Your eyes wander to the glowing poisonous stick between your index and middle finger, studying how the glow slowly eats away the tobacco, leaving only behind gray ash that eventually falls off and lands on the black satin sheet covering your bare legs. 

“I told you I hate it when you smoke in my apartment.” You don’t need to turn your head to know he is looking at you annoyed. Even when you two are intimate, when he is fucking the living shit out of you, leaving you in bite marks and bruises – his cold and annoyed façade remains. Yet, you don’t mind. He is the reason you can forget; even if it is just for a short time. You still appreciate it.

“Sorry.” You reply quietly but make no effort to stub the cigarette out. You know he has an ashtray on the nightstand next to the bed; he bought it only for you. He doesn’t smoke. He also makes you empty and clean it every time before you leave if you used it. Seems to be fair. That’s the least you can do. 

“Well…put it out.” You hear him but your brain is not comprehending the words he says. You simply stare at the continuous burning of your cigarette, the taste still present on your tongue. It reminds you of Him. He rarely smoked but he had the habit of smoking one every time he came down from his high after loving you. You always complained about it when you kissed him, telling him it was like sticking your tongue into an ashtray but you got used to it to the point where it had become some odd feeling of comfort. It meant familiarity. It meant safety. It meant home. 

Funny; you had never thought you’d miss the taste of cigarettes on someone’s lips so much. That’s probably also the reason why you picked up this habit shortly after you started “seeing” the man next to you. 

“Hey, you hear me?” of course, you can hear him. You’re not deaf. You’re just…absent-minded. But why does he sound more annoyed than usual? He almost never tells you to stub it out so you deduce he has been having a bad day. Now, that you think about it, he also sounded irritated on the phone when you called. So, you are sure his bad mood has nothing to do with you; or at least you are not the cause of it. You contemplate if you should ask but knowing the man next to you, you know he won’t talk. You basically know nothing about him. Sometimes, it frustrates you. Some days, you want to have a conversation with him, to tell him about your day, about your feelings, about you fear. But he doesn’t want to hear it. He had made it abundantly clear that this relationship or however you want to call it, is purely physical. And you agreed to it, but still…

A big hand harshly grabs your wrist and takes away the cigarette glimmering away between your fingers and angrily stubs it out in the ashtray. His hot breath ghosts your neck and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. “I do not like to repeat myself.” He hisses, the sound almost animalistic. His grip tightens before he lets go, leaving an angry red handprint around your wrist. In moments like this you are reminded that this man is dangerous.  

“Now, if you are done for today, I suggest you get dressed and fuck off. I need to go back to work.” You see him sit on the edge of the bed out of the corner of your eyes, his muscular back facing you, his long black hair elegantly falling over his shoulders. A big tattoo is covering almost his entire back -  some kind of cross with circles on each side and one in the middle. You would like to know the meaning but you don’t ask. 

There are scars on his skin; too many to be accidental, too small to be life threatening. The one on his stomach, however, seems to have been more serious. You once dared to ask him what happened. In response, he simple turned you around, pressed your head into the pillow and pounded into you until he was satisfied. 

When you weren’t thinking about Him and imagining a life you could never have, you thought about the possible jobs he could be doing. Secret agent, assassin, military, special forces. The list could go on but are the most likely you decided. But you never asked. He wouldn’t give you an answer anyway so why bother?

His body tenses momentarily when you gently grab his arm. He doesn’t turn his head to you completely but enough for you to see his harsh brown eyes staring at you. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” Your voice is almost a whisper but you know he can hear you loud and clear. 

He doesn’t move, doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. He is contemplating. You know he has no sympathy for your situation. He is not the compassionate type. Sometimes you even have the impression that he has sociopathic tendencies. Yet, you don’t care. You welcome it, even. Everyone else looks at you in pity. They don’t look at you as a person. They only see the woman who lost her husband. And you hate it. You hate it to the bone. He doesn’t. He looks at you as if you are vermin yet you don’t care.

You inch closer, embracing him from behind as you wrap both arms around his strong torso. Your lips find his sharp jawline and your lips follow the bone to his ear. You know he likes it. He would never admit it out loud but he enjoys it when you tease him with small kisses. It makes him almost tame. 

You gently put his earlobe between your lips and suckle on it, your hands caressing his flat stomach and chest. It almost sounds like he is purring when a dark chuckle rumbles in his chest. He snakes a strong arm around your waist and starts kissing your neck in return, tracing a bite mark with his tongue. 

“Why should I care?” he whispers into your ear. You lean back and turn your head to look at him as good as you can. What a beautiful man. What a dangerous predator. 

“You don’t have to care. I just want you to make me forget.” 

A dangerous smile creeps onto his sinful lips. 

He presses you slowly into the mattress with his weight while his teeth sink into your neck. The fingers on your waist dig painfully into your delicate skin. 

If there is one thing you know for certain about Rob Lucci then that he can make you forget; even if it is just for a moment. 

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

for @ultrakatua (she's to blame) Yurgir/Raphael ass eating lol

-

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am. Perfectly serious.”

“You’re telling me to lick your asshole. Don’t you have a damn incubus for that?”

“Your lack of decorum, quite frankly, is a large part of why you’re being re-educated this way, Yurgir.”

“Re-educated. Right. Teach me then, where’s the decorum in eating your ass, Raphael?”

“Watch your tone. I can make amendments to your contract at any moment I choose, lest you forget.”

“As if I could fucking forget.”

“And for your information, this is your first lesson in humility. You may have ruled your fetid roost in Shar’s temple, but you are in my house now. It is time you learned exactly what that means.”

That was how the mighty Yurgir, once a feared hunter and powerful fiend, found himself on his knees in Raphael’s boudoir, the master of the house naked – every inch of ribbed cherry-red skin on display – as he bent over the arm of a chaise, hideously amused, waiting for Yurgir’s humiliation to begin.

The first tentative, reluctant lick of Yurgir’s huge, hot and rough and leathery tongue between Raphael’s fatty cheeks had the pampered cambion prince groaning. It wasn’t enough. Not enough pressure, not enough force. That big fiend really and clearly did not want to do this, and Raphael relished the thought (enough to chub up his cock even on a bad day) but he needed more. He shifted his feet, shifted his weight and position over the chaise, and pushed his ass firmly into Yurgir’s face. He smirked when the orthorn sputtered, grunted in surprise, but didn’t let his sadistic amusement carry in his voice.

“Is that truly the best you’ve got, captain? Maybe I’ll still send you to the pits as a lemure after all.”

“Shut. Up.” Growled Yurgir. He grabbed big handfuls of Raphael’s backside, digging his claws into the flesh. He spread those soft red cheeks, exposing Raphael’s puckered, twitching little crimson hole and his fat balls hanging below it. Raphael exhaled when his asshole touched cool air. Gasped when Yurgir leaned in and took a deep breath through his snout. “Perfumed even down here…but I can still smell your taint, trickster. Your musk. As much as you pretend this is for my punishment, I can taste how desperate you are to have your shithole tongue-fucked.”

“Get on with it,” Raphael hissed. He didn’t deny the accusation. Couldn’t. His cock was almost full-mast already. Yurgir rumbled a deep chuckle. His next lick was harder, broader. The curl of his tongue cupped and caressed the tight skin of Raphael’s scrotum, trailed up his perineum, flattened on the velvet of his asshole and stayed there for a moment. Raphael squirmed irritably, looking for friction. Yurgir did not give him any, instead sinking his claws deeper. Thin rivulets of scalding, fiendish blood trickled from the small wounds. The cambion seemed to like the pain. His tail, that he’d been keeping aloft, began to thump and sway. “Yes. Come on, beast. Give me more or I’ll have you vivisected and put on display in my foyer. You won’t be dead, either. Mmm…perhaps I’ll do that anyway…” The idea excited Raphael, if the throb of his cock and the bead of pearlescent precum peeking out from his glans was anything to judge.

“I’m sick of your voice,” snapped the orthorn. Squeezed harder, thinking about crushing Raphael’s pelvis to dust within his huge paws. Cambions were sturdy fuckers. It would take a lot of strength to turn them into pulp. A lot of violence. Yurgir’s massive, flaccid prick twitched with interest.

“Is that so?” Raphael turned his head to smile maliciously at Yurgir over his shoulder, alluringly obscured by the flutter of his wing, his cheeks flushed a darker red, eyes glittering with sadistic satisfaction. “Would you prefer a song instead?”

Never fucking mind. “Bastard,” snarled Yurgir, sharp and angry, but he went to work, because he couldn’t do anything else. If this poncy pissant put another song in his head, Yurgir would scoop his own brains out and stomp on them himself.

Fine, then. He’d done worse than lick a cambion’s asshole before.

Still holding Raphael’s cheeks, Yurgir licked the length of him again, leaving a trail of hot slobber. Briefly, he toyed with the idea of bursting Raphael’s balls between his tusks like overripe grapes, but the punishment wouldn’t be worth it – and there was always the chance the devil would enjoy that. Instead he focused on that wrinkled, pulsing hole, lapping at it like an oversized tiger licking flesh from the bone. He swirled the tip of his tongue around the wet rim of Raphael’s entrance, coaxing it to open. The devil exhaled shakily, spread his thighs apart a little further, pressed a hand into the cushion of the chaise to keep himself steady. Yet still, he did not stay quiet.

“That’s it. I had an inkling you were a dab hand at servicing, especially on your knees. It seems I was right. As I often am.”

Yurgir ignored him. He was beginning to understand how this cambion worked. Saying anything would only feed into his megalomania – the same way stuffing his face into Raphael’s taint was feeding his ego, his sexual sadism, but Yurgir knew you had to pick your battles. Much as it burned like sour acid in his throat, he had to give Raphael a modicum of respect. The man certainly knew how to get what he wanted. That didn’t mean Yurgir would give in gently, however. Gentle wasn’t in his nature. Without preamble, the moment he felt Raphael’s sphincter loosen, Yurgir forced the entire length and girth of his enormous tongue into the tight, hot cavern of the devil’s ass. The way it clenched around him, the earthy musky taste, wasn’t unpleasant at all, in truth.

“By the Hells!” Raphael cursed, his composure momentarily faltering as his body shuddered and stiffened, grappled with the sudden large intrusion. Yurgir grinned at the small victory, spit painting his fiendish lips. He felt Raphael’s asshole stretching to its limit around his tongue.

Good. He hoped it hurt.

He tongue-fucked Raphael ruthlessly, barely giving the cambion any time to breathe. In, out, lathing the rough texture of his slippery muscle all over the devil’s warm and spongey inner walls. He knew every time he licked over Raphael’s prostate because the devil would hiss, mutter in Infernal, rock his hips. He knew Raphael was desperately fisting his drooling cock because he could hear the slide of skin on skin over the obscene sounds of messy ass-to-mouth.

He knew he wanted to pull the devil’s fucking tail clean off his body because it kept whipping him as it thrashed. The next time it coiled by his ear, a serpent ready to strike, Yurgir snatched it in one paw and yanked. The sinewy tail stayed attached, but Raphael moaned, a husky, throaty sound belying the truth of his Hellish nature. Who’d have thought this prissy bastard liked receiving pain as much as he liked inflicting it. And he just kept fucking talking. As aroused by the sound of his own voice as the tongue in his ass.

“Truly you were the mightiest of your brood. A brutal, unflinching armageddon upon all you came across. And here you are, utterly at my mercy. Ah…and it is mercy, I assure you, for the things I could have done to you would put Asmodeus’ Inquisitors to shame. You should be thanking me for my boundless compassion, but we’ll work on that in the future. The only future you will ever know. Me. Raphael. I am your future.”

Yurgir knew these nonsensical words weren’t being spoke to him, but at him. In a final effort to shut him up, Yurgir pressed his face flush with Raphael’s dimpled backside and sucked hard on his quivering rim. The devil choked on his words, pulled in a harsh breath through his nose, grunting as he climaxed. His insides tightened on Yurgir’s tongue. The hand on his shaft pumped erratically. His wings flexed with pleasure. Ropes of cum splattered out of his cock, stained the chaise, dripped onto the floor. He didn’t seem to care. Yurgir pulled away the second he figured out that Raphael was cumming; dragged his tongue free as horribly as possible. He rose to his full height and sneered. Rubbed his aching jaw.

“Good enough for you?”

Raphael took his time collecting himself. Making Yurgir wait. The orthorn watched in mild disdain as Raphael suckled his own spend off his fingers, stretched luxuriously like a satisfied house cat. Blinked lazily, that damned tail swaying mockingly.

“Adequate, I suppose,” he said. Clicked his fingers and he was fully dressed again, immaculate, not a hair out of place. He glanced at Yurgir like he was a smear of dirt beneath his boot. “But your worshipping techniques and lack of fervor leave a lot to be desired. We’ll convene again tomorrow for another lesson. And I expect you to clean up this mess, by the way.”