#i swear i have more coming that's not just talk about the debate

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

omg girl pretty please was perfect, need a part two with more spice

here it is, with a lot more spice, so be warned! 🔞

pretty please | pablo gavi [part 2]

🧁 synopsis: Pablo and you decide to turn your friendly casual hook-ups into a "no-strings-attached" arrangement – it sounds like the perfect plan: easy, fun, and uncomplicated. If only he weren’t so annoyingly impossible. tags: friends with benefits, banter, dirty talking, smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 3k words)

you can read the first part here

Your friends are spilling out of cars, shouting directions, arguing about who almost missed the turn, and debating who owes who gas money. You climb out of the backseat of your friend’s car, smoothing down your dress as you walk toward the restaurant.

Pablo is leaning against the wall near the door, arms crossed like he’s trying to blend in. But the second you step out, his eyes lock on you, and he starts making a beeline straight for you.

“Hey, what’s with the dress?” he asks, his voice sharp enough to cut through the parking lot noise.

You blink at him, playing dumb. “What about it?”

He stops just short of crowding you, his eyes dragging over the vintage Versace. His expression gives away nothing, but you can tell he’s trying not to combust. He knows exactly what you’re doing, but you also try to keep your expression neutral, as if you’re completely oblivious to how short, how tight, and how ridiculous this dress is.

You borrowed it from your mom without asking. She would absolutely kill you if she knew, but as long as there aren’t any pictures, you figure you’re safe.

“You know exactly what about it.”

“No, I don’t.” You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “You have something against fashion, Pablito?”

His jaw tightens, and you swear he mutters something under his breath. You’re having too much fun to care.

“Seriously, though,” you continue, twirling the hem of the dress between your fingers. “You don’t think it’s cute?”

“Cute?” He scoffs, looking around to make sure none of your friends are within earshot. “It’s... distracting.”

None of your friends know what the two of you do behind closed doors. To everyone else, you’re just two close friends, which makes it even funnier when they try to set you up.

It’s become a running joke between you and Gavi, the two of you playing along just enough to make them think they’re onto something.

You can’t help but grin. “Distracting for who?”

“For me,” he hisses, glaring at you like it’s your fault.

“Oh, well, I didn’t realize I had to run my wardrobe choices by you.” You shrug, pretending to think. “Maybe next time I’ll wear something really distracting.”

“Don’t even –”

“Come on, Pablito,” you cut him off, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the entrance. “People are waiting, and you’re being weird. Let’s go.”

His steps falter, but he follows, muttering as he lets you pull him along. “I’m not being weird.”

“Relax,” you say, turning to flash him a grin. “If it’s really bothering you, maybe you should sit on the other side of the table.”

He stops walking, staring at you like you’ve just personally challenged him to a duel. “Not a chance.”

“Suit yourself,” you sing, swinging open the restaurant door. Behind you, you hear him mutter something unintelligible – probably about how impossible you are – but he’s already following you in, like he always does.

part 2

Your group takes up the long table near the back and dinner starts out fine. Pablo, for reasons only he knows, has stationed himself at the far end of the table, so far away from you it feels intentional.

You figure it probably is.

It’s almost impressive, the way he’s managed to talk and gesture like everything’s normal, all while sneaking glances at you every few seconds. You know because you’ve been doing the exact same thing – watching him out of the corner of your eye as he fidgets with his glass, rubs the back of his neck, and very clearly struggles to keep his attention on the conversation in front of him.

You’re not trying to make things harder for him. Well... not exactly. Teasing him is fun, and you didn’t realize that was part of the deal when you started this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement. Apparently, it is, and it’s working better than you could’ve imagined.

The dress helps, of course.

By the time your friends start debating dessert orders, you notice Pablo’s grip on his fork is a little too tight. His jaw keeps ticking, and his eyes haven’t left you in what feels like minutes.

Then, out of nowhere, he blurts, “Oh, we need to go.”

The entire table falls silent, everyone looking at him in confusion.

“What?” one of your friends asks.

Pablo’s eyes are glued to you, panic flickering in them like he didn’t think this through. “We have that... thing,” he says, gulping hard. “With your brother.”

You nearly choke on your drink. His eyebrows are doing that wild thing they do when he’s embarrassed, and it takes everything in you not to burst out laughing on the spot.

“Right,” you say smoothly, nodding. “Thanks for reminding me, Pablito.” You grab your bag, standing up with practiced calm. “Sorry, guys, we’re leaving. Can’t be late.”

Your friends barely react. You and Pablo leaving early isn’t exactly unusual – you’ve been practically glued at the hip since you met.

You pay your share of the check, wave goodbye, and make it all the way to his car before the composure you’ve been holding onto snaps.

As soon as the doors shut, you burst out laughing.

“With my brother?” you wheeze, clutching your stomach. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Pablo glares at you, his ears turning pink. “Don’t.” His voice is low, trying for roughness, but it only makes you laugh harder.

“Oh my God, you looked like you were going to pass out.”

“I said don’t.” He leans back in his seat, covering his face with his hands, but you can see the faintest hint of a grin breaking through. “I can’t believe you did that.” 

You blink at him, “Did what?”

He scoffs before turning to glare at you. “You spent the entire dinner giving me that look.”

“What look?” you ask, trying not to grin.

His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks like he regrets saying anything. But then he mutters, “The look you have when you want to... you know.”

You burst out laughing, loud and uncontrollable as his ears turn pink.

“You’re insane!” you manage between laughs. “That’s totally a projection. You were the one who kept looking over at me.”

“Whatever,” he snaps, looking back at the road as he starts the car. “I’m taking you to mine.”

You’re still grinning, leaning your head back against the seat. “And what are we doing at your place, Pablo?”

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, and the smirk creeping onto his face says it all. “I don’t know,” he says casually, his tone a perfect imitation of innocence. “Play video games, maybe. That’s what we do, right?”

“Right,” you say, biting your lip to hold back another laugh. 

He’s not saying what he really wants, but he doesn’t have to. And the way his hand taps restlessly on the steering wheel tells you he’s not going to hold out much longer.

part 3

His bedroom door clicks shut behind you, and before you can even process what’s happening, Pablo is dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” you blurt out, genuinely taken aback.

He doesn’t answer right away, his hands already gliding down the sides of your thighs. His head tilts up briefly and you can see the faint flush creeping over his face. It’s not shame, it’s desire.

You’re tempted to say something snarky, to keep up the teasing game you started at dinner, but the way he looks at you – half-lidded, feverish – makes the words catch in your throat.

When his lips press against the curve of your leg, just above your knee, you feel your breath hitch. He trails soft kisses down, his touch so careful it sends shivers up your spine. 

“Pablo,” you say again, but this time it comes out quieter.

Still, he doesn’t respond, his hands sliding down to your ankles. When he finally reaches your feet, he pauses, looking up at you as if asking for permission – or maybe just enjoying the way you’re completely at his mercy.

“You’re so dramatic,” you mutter, trying to sound unaffected.

He smirks, the flush deepening on his cheeks as he carefully slides one of your heels off, then the other. “And you’re a brat,” he says, like it’s a compliment.

You’d almost feel bad for teasing him earlier. Almost.

But the way he’s looking at you now? Yeah, you don’t feel sorry at all.

Gavi stands up and you raise an eyebrow at him when he takes you completely by surprise. Before you can react, he hooks an arm around your waist and manhandles you up like you weigh nothing.

“Pablo!” you yelp, your legs kicking lightly in protest as he hauls you toward the bed.

“What?” he says, laughing as he effortlessly shifts you in his arms. 

“Put me down!” you demand, though the smile on your face betrays your annoyance.

“Okay,” he says, plopping you unceremoniously onto the mattress. You bounce once and he doesn’t follow immediately. Instead, he steps back, his dark eyes scanning over you. His head tilts slightly, his brow furrowing.

“You’re… hot,” he says finally.

You blink up at him, “You’re only noticing now?”

He moves closer, his hands skimming over the fabric of your dress. His fingers linger at the hem, then drift to the exposed skin of your thighs, your shoulders, the back of your neck – everywhere the dress doesn’t cover.

“No, I’m serious,” he says, his voice lower now, his focus entirely on you.

Before you can respond, his hands slide up to cup your face, holding you firmly, like he needs you to hear him. His thumbs brush against your cheekbones.

“You look really fucking hot right now,” he says, and there’s nothing teasing about the way he says it. 

You open your mouth to reply, but the words won’t come. You’re too distracted by the way he’s looking at you. So you don’t even think about it – you just grab his shirt and pull him down, kissing him hard. The kind of kiss that friends definitely shouldn’t be sharing. It’s reckless, fueled by everything he’s made you feel tonight, by all the times he’s told you not to overthink this, not to complicate things.

But this? This is the definition of complicated, and you don’t care.

At first, he freezes, like the force of your kiss has stunned him. Then his hands tighten on your face, and he kisses you back even harder.

His lips move against yours with a kind of desperation that makes your head spin, and his fingers slide into your hair, anchoring you to him. 

When he finally breaks the kiss, his hands are still cradling your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks like he can’t quite let go. His gaze drops, taking in every inch of you, and when he looks back up, there’s a determined gleam in his eyes.

“I’m not even taking the dress off,” he says, his voice low and sure as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

You giggle, shaking your head at him. “We can’t! My mom would kill me if I screwed up this dress.”

But Gavi just shakes his head, completely unfazed. “I’ll buy her another one.”

His shirt is off now, tossed somewhere behind him, and you’re caught between laughing at his confidence and being completely swept up in it.

“Oh, really?” 

“Really,” he replies, his tone leaving no room for argument. His hands find your waist again, pulling you closer as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin.

You shake your head again, but this time it’s less about disbelief and more about the fact that you’re already giving in. 

He slides your lacy underwear off with deliberate care, and when he notices they match the color of your dress, he pauses for a beat, his eyes lingering. The corner of his mouth twitches before he does something you don’t expect – he places them right next to your face, on the pillow you’re lying on, his grip on them firm.

You laugh, the sound bubbling out. “You’re so weird.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, but he doesn’t let it slide. “Stop calling me weird,” he mutters, biting your ear in retaliation before trailing down to your neck.

You shiver under his attention, but then he pulls back to focus on his next task – taking off his pants with a kind of urgency that’s kind of endearing. When he’s finally stripped nude, he stands in front of you, hands on his hips like he’s waiting for a round of applause.

“Tell me I’m hot,” he demands.

You shake your head, biting back another laugh. “What? No way.”

“Why not?” he asks, feigning offense as he moves closer. “Come on, say it.”

He leans in, peppering kisses across your cheek and jaw, his persistence both ridiculous and charming.

“You think your annoying best friend is hot, don’t you?” he whispers into your ear, his tone dropping just enough to make your pulse race. “And you want to sleep with me, don’t you?”

“Stop projecting your feelings onto me,” you argue, but your voice is breathy, already undone by his proximity. Your words would be more effective if you weren’t already moaning under his touch, two of his fingers going in and out inside of you, the softest sounds escaping you as his lips find yours again.

The room is filled with your unsteady breaths and the sounds you can’t quite keep contained, each one louder than the last. But then, out of nowhere, Gavi stills completely, his movements halting. He grabs your chin, tilting your face toward his. His expression is serious, annoyingly composed.

“I’m not letting you finish until you tell me I’m hot,” he says, like this is a perfectly reasonable demand to make at a time like this.

You glare at him, every nerve in your body screaming at the unfairness of it all. But it’s too late for you – you’ve already given up.

“You’re hot, okay?” you snap, your voice desperate and unfiltered. “You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever been with, so please, please just fuck me.”

For a second, he looks almost touched. And then, to your complete horror, he has the audacity to laugh.

“Jesus! Calm down, I’ll do it,” he says, his grin breaking through his mock seriousness.

You see red, slapping his hand away from your chin in pure frustration. “You’re insufferable,” you mutter, but before you can say more, he’s fingering you again, his hands steady and assured, and everything else fades away.

His hands and lips and teeth start exploring every inch of you with a passion that feels almost primal. He’s relentless, his mouth all over your skin, lingering on the parts of you he knows will make your breath hitch. The delicate fabric of your dress shifts under his hands, pushed and pulled as he reveals more of you, your breasts, your cunt, as he eats you out with a feral hunger.

You cum twice, his name falling from your lips. By the time he finally lifts his head from between your legs, his smile is smug, proud.

“I’ll give you what you asked for now,” he says, “What you begged me for.”

“Shut up,” you snap, your voice unsteady.

He laughs, brushing a strand of damp hair from your face. “You’re so mean to me,” he murmurs, shifting you gently to your side. His voice softens further as he positions himself behind you. “I always give you what you want, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes, your tone sharp even as your breath hitches. “Hurry up with the condom.”

“Do you want to put it on?”

“Yes…” you mutter, your fingers brushing against his as you take it from him.

When he finally enters you, it’s consciously slow, his lips pressing softly to your shoulder, shushing you as your breathing grows uneven again. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice soothing as his pace quickens, the rhythm you find together is absolutely perfect.

As you sense him nearing his peak, you lean back slightly, your voice quiet but sure. “Cum in my mouth.”

Pablo groans loudly, a mix of gritted words spilling out. “Fuck, fuck.” He pulls away quickly, his breathing ragged. “That’s what you wanted all night, wasn’t it?” He’s breathless, his words edged with laughter. “You wanted to taste, wanted to – fuck, to eat my cum, fuck – nasty girl.”

He’s hasty and shaky now, completely lost in pleasure as his member fits perfectly in your mouth. He closes his eyes, moaning loudly as he finishes. In his hurry, he becomes careless, and a few drops land on your face, his eyes widen. Then, without missing a beat, he leans in to clean it off, his tongue brushing over your skin with an exaggerated gentleness that makes you giggle.

“What are you doing?” you laugh, but he shushes you, his focus entirely on his task.

“Fixing my mess,” he mutters, his lips trailing up to yours. He kisses you fiercely, sucking your tongue. It’s messy and uncoordinated, full of laughter and half-mumbled complaints.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes rake over you, and he groans dramatically. “Mierda, I’m hard again.”

You laugh, pushing at his chest. “You’re too horny!”

“Me?” he scoffs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you down effortlessly. “You came three times, and I didn’t hear you complaining then.”

You roll your eyes, already teasing him with your touch, one hand on his erect member, caressing him. “I’m tired now,” you say, your voice playful even as you keep up your antics.

“Tired?” he repeats, “No, no way. Give me another one.”

You stretch out lazily on the bed, making yourself comfortable. “Fine,” you say with a grin. “But I’m not doing any work this time. You’re on top.”

Gavi groans again, rolling his eyes. But the smile on his face says he’s more than ready to oblige.

[tangibletechnomancy]

So, the good news is, dA and Artstation and other art sites are creating new protocols to tell robots to ignore certain pieces. The bad news is, as they admit, they can only extend that to those pieces on their own websites; reposts to other sites can and will still be scanned for data (on top of the fact that things like robots.txt instructions and do-not-track requests aren't legally binding and there is no recourse if someone just decides to ignore them, which I wholeheartedly believe should be addressed as an issue of privacy law, but that's neither here nor there).

I propose a complementary database - an anti-training database, consisting of the main images found on pages with a noai header. The purpose of this database would be to compare against a training database before it's processed and remove exact visual matches, much like deduplication.

Of course, it's not going to be 100% reliable - no system is, whether it's in tech or in law or both - but it could go a long way toward making things work better when it comes to respecting conventional artists' wishes for their own work.

[sceletaflores]

I COULD PLAY THE DOCTOR (I CAN CURE YOUR DISEASE)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.1k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, logan's pov, written with origins!logan in mind, nat veering dangerously closer to a/b/o territory with every passing day, rut cycles, oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), multiple orgasms, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, p in v, rough sex, biting, hair pulling, size kink, belly bulging, pussy pronouns, one (1) single use of the word daddy, scent kink, pain kink, breeding kink ofc, knotting (don’t look at me…), squirting, porn w/ plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: don’t look at me…i don’t know how many times i swore up and down i’d never write something like this but i’m a confirmed liar apparently so…here. i mean i just figured i'm in a rut artistically so therefore the only answer is writing logan in a rut physically...i can do what i want and i don't need to explain myself or my horny thoughts. also, i debated posting this in the wake of everything that's gone down over the past two days that is still escalating and will continue to escalate in the coming weeks, but i think everyone could use a little escape from how scary things may seem right now. take a break from all the terrifying news sites and read about logan wanting to breed you :) kisses!

divider by angel @saradika-graphics!

it's been another six months, and logan needs your help...

The burn starts on the walk home from work, a pulse of heat deep in Logan's gut that grows with every step.

It spreads slowly, sinking into his muscles and seeping up his spine as he rounds the last corner, your place less than a block away now.

It caught him off guard this time, an itch burying itself under his skin earlier in the day only to get worse and worse as he worked.

He usually knew the signs well enough to feel them start creeping in, and he was dead sure it wasn't for another few weeks.

Apparently, he was wrong.

Logan’s jaw clenches as he picks up his pace, every nerve ending in his body straining to break into a full blown sprint at the thought of you, all alone and waiting for him.

His fingers curl into tight fists, nails pressing into his palms to ground himself, though it’s hardly enough. The faint scent of you drifts up from his shirt, not even a long day at the lumberyard enough to drown it out.

By the time he reaches your door, his heartbeat is a heavy thud in his ears, syncing with the building ache of desire wracking through his body like the earth rattling boom of a raging thunder storm.

He fumbles through getting his key into the lock, hands unsteady as he tugs the door open with a little more force than necessary and finally steps inside.

The second he closes the door behind him, the heat surges, thrumming through his veins and flooding his chest. Your scent fills the air completely, stronger now, wrapping around him so thick and sweet.

"Darlin'?" His voice comes out rougher than he intends, but he's beyond caring.

Your voice floats from the other room, casual, warm enough to send a jolt through him. Logan drops his axe from his shoulder, leaning it against the door as he starts down the familiar path to your bedroom.

You're spread out on his side of the bed—oblivious, curled up with a book, wrapped in one of the flannels he must have left the last time he stayed over.

Just the sight of you does something to him, like a match dragged against a strike pad, damned on setting everything ablaze.

You glance up, and the soft smile on your lips falters as you catch sight of him.

Logan knows what he must look like, his eyes all dark and predatory, chest heaving as he rakes his hungry gaze over you like a wolf watches a lamb grazing too close to its den.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stalks toward you with a purpose that’s as undeniable as the heat pouring off him in waves.

The book slips from your fingers, forgotten, as you lean back, the small sound of your breath hitching under the weight of his gaze is music to his ears.

Logan pauses at the edge of the bed, towering over you, letting himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. His flannel draped loosely over your shoulders–shrouding you in his scent. 

The urge to pounce on you fights against his normal instinct to savor every second, to draw it out until the heat pooling in his gut becomes downright unbearable.

“Been thinkin’ about you all damn day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark as molasses, rough from restraint he’s quickly losing. His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place as he leans down, his breath hot against your neck. “Thinkin’ about what I was gonna when I finally got my hands on you.”

Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm. He growls low in his throat, that itch he’s been fighting nearly all day clawing its way up to the surface with a vengeance.

The primal urge inside of him screaming to claim claim claim take take take mate mate mate breed breed breed.

You tilt your head to the side with a soft sigh, freeing up more space for him to nose along your skin. “Is it time?”

Logan's breath catches as your question hangs in the air, thick with anticipation. The soft simplicity of it ignites the wildfire burning in his gut, every ounce of restraint slipping away like sand through his fingers.

“Yeah, baby,” he growls, slipping his fingers under the worn cotton of your shorts, feeling the bare skin beneath. “It’s time.”

You shift, hands going to the buttons of his flannel like you’re going to take it off. Logan stops you, taking your wrists in his free hand.

“Don’t,” he breathes, shaking his head hard enough that his hair flows with it. “Leave it on.”

The thought of you covered in his scent, of his scent mixing with yours to claim you on a level only he can discern sends his mind buzzing.

You look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

Logan runs his thumb along the racing pulse of your wrist before he drops them. His hands venture lower, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

In one rough tug, Logan yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in his hands as he lurches forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

You’re soaked already, the wet fabric of your shorts melded to the shape of your cunt. He can’t help but run his nose along the slick seam of you, reveling in the way your legs twitch on either side of his head, in the short gasp you let out.

“Logan.” Your voice is nothing but a mewl, pleading and desperate.

“Missed you,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable. The edge of need in him makes his hands shake, sliding up your thighs, urging them even further apart as he settles between them.

Logan’s fingers dig into your skin, he lets his thumbs brush up, hooking them into the waistband of your shorts to tug them down your legs in one sharp yank. He groans at the sight of you completely bare, no underwear.

“Fuck, look at you,” he grates, his thumb coming down to slip through your dripping cunt. Your hole flutters desperately around him, needy little clenches like it’s trying to suck him in. “She’s all ready for me, huh? Been waiting for me to come home and give her some attention?”

“Please,” you whimper, your voice thick with longing, the sound going straight to his head, clouding his thoughts. 

Logan’s pulse races as he watches your body arch instinctively toward his touch, the desperate need in your eyes igniting the raw urges coursing through him.

He can’t deny you; he never could. You’re a feast laid out before him, and he’s starving.

Logan leans closer, letting his tongue flick out to taste you like he’s wanted to since he left for work this morning. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment. He licks a broad stripe from your entrance to your clit, savoring the way your body responds, the way your legs tremble and your hips twitch against his mouth, seeking more. “Tastes like fuckin’ heaven, sweetheart.”

The taste of you is intoxicating—sweet and tangy, flooding his senses with every drag and swirl of his tongue.

Logan can’t help but moan against you, the sound vibrating through your body as he dives deeper, his nose nudging against your slick entrance as he shakes his head back and forth like an animal—rubbing the plush skin of your inner thighs red and raw with each rough drag of his coarse beard.

Every flick of his tongue sends a shockwave through you, and he revels in the sounds you make—each whimper, each moan, a siren’s call urging him deeper. He laves his tongue around your clit, sucking it gently, pulling at it with his lips as you writhe beneath him, begging for more. 

He keeps your thighs spread wide, two strong hands pinning them to the mattress so he can devour you just the way you deserve, the sharp dig of your heels into his shoulders only spurs him on.

Your hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groans into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he can coax from you. 

It’s pure sin, each sound you make, each shiver that runs through you as he takes his time, drinking you down like a man starved. 

The ache in him intensifies, his own need growing, pulsing. He’s hard, has been hard since he walked through the front door.

His cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, need pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him. His hips jerk up on their own volition, desperate for any friction.

“Just like that, Logan,” you gasp, voice breathy and trembling with pleasure. 

The way you say his name—raw, desperate—makes his blood run hotter. He grips your thighs tighter, anchoring you to the bed as he drinks you in, wanting to lose himself in you completely.

Logan pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, looking up at you with lust-drunk eyes, drinking in the sight of your sweaty cheeks, your heavy-lidded gaze, the way your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath.

The pulse of his cock intensifies, urging him to speed things along. The base desire of his own instincts is getting harder and harder to ignore under your adoring stare.

He feeds his fingers into your clenching hole with no warning, a satisfied smirk tugging his lips up at your sharp gasp. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, the entire lower half of his face still shining with your essence.

Your cunt swallows him, two thick fingers sinking into the velvety heat like it’s nothing.

Logan groans as he feels you clench around him, your walls fluttering and drawing him in deeper. “That’s it, baby,” he mutters, his voice hoarse with need. “So fuckin’ ready for me, so ready for daddy’s fingers in your pussy.”

Your mouth drops open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twist his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasp for air. The dim light of the sunset filters in through the blinds, highlighting the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

Every clench of your walls around his fingers shoots a thrill straight to his cock, making him ache with the urge to bury himself inside you. The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

But he’s not done tasting you yet. Not until you’re practically dripping onto the sheets.

He lowers his mouth back to your core, sucking your clit into his mouth as his fingers pump faster. The sudden intensity makes your thighs shake around his head, and he grins against you. He wants to see you fall apart—wants to feel it.

“Logan—please, I…” You can barely get the words out, voice breaking as your whole body strains against him, desperate and needy.

The wet slap of his palm against your spit soaked cunt is loud in the quiet of your bedroom, blending with the loud keens that fall from your parted lips. He crooks his fingers, rubbing at that soft, spongy spot inside of you.

“Come on,” he mutters, slick lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “Give it to me, baby. Show me you're ready for my cock."

He drags the sharp edge of his canine against your pulsing clit with barely any pressure, and you're coming.

Your whole body tenses, back bowing off the mattress as you let out a broken cry of his name. The bite of your nails digging into his scalp feels harsh enough to draw blood, a feeble attempt at grounding yourself against the onslaught of pleasure. 

Your trembling thighs tighten around his shoulders, gripping him like a vice as your shaking cunt gushes around his fingers. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes slipping shut as you drench his wrist and chin in your juices.

Even then, he doesn’t let up, fingers pumping relentlessly as he draws out every pulse, every aftershock of your climax, every tiny spray of your release splashing against his wrist. 

He’s lost in the feel of you—slick and trembling under his hands, the scent of your release filling his lungs, thick and intoxicating.

You slump back against the bed, body limp and spent. His own need is a driving, aching force now, clawing at his insides, demanding more.

He slips his fingers free from your dripping heat, dragging them through the wetness coating his chin as he licks them clean with a growl, savoring every taste.

“Good girl,” he purrs, voice thick with pride and satisfaction as he pulls back, leaving your thighs twitching in the wake of his touch. But he still isn’t finished. Not even close.

You barely have time to catch your breath before Logan crawls up the bed, his eyes locked on you, pupils blown with need. He looms over you, hands planting on either side of your head. His cock grinds against you through the rough denim, and you can feel just how thick and hard he is, throbbing through the fabric, demanding to be freed.

With a low groan, he shifts his hips, dragging his bulge along your soaked cunt, sending another jolt of pleasure racing through you. His hands are all over you, gripping your waist, hot and possessive.

“Feel that?” he asks, pressing his lips the wild flutter of your pulse, the need to sink his teeth in the soft skin of your neck raises the hair on the back of his neck. “That’s what you do to me baby. Got me hard as a fuckin’ rock, just aching to be inside you.”

Your arms circle his shoulders, clawing at the fabric off his shirt. “Need you inside me, Logan. Please, want it so bad.”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he can feel the front of his jeans getting soaked through with the slick pouring from your cunt all pull him deeper into the recesses of his hind-brain. 

The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reaches a fever pitch.

With a deep growl, Logan rears back as far as he can bear, just enough to tear his shirt over his head before he fumbles with the heavy buckle of his belt to free his aching cock.

He shoves his jeans down, boxers quickly following until there’s nothing separating him from the cool air of your bedroom. His cock springs free, hot and flushed an angry red color, drooling from the tip enough that it drips down to stain the pretty floral sheets of your bed.

Your eyes zero in on him, mouth dropping open at the sight. His cock so heavy it doesn’t curve upward to slap against his stomach, instead it hangs down to sway between his thighs as he moves closer. 

Your legs spread as he nears, slick covered thighs parting to make room for him to slot between them. So obedient, so good, so well trained.

Logan takes himself in his hand, nearly wincing at the blazing temperature of his skin. He secures his hand around the base, squeezing where his knot threatens to pop before he’s even got in you.

He slips the angry head through the folds of your cunt, slapping it against your clit with a wet ‘thwack’ sound. He can feel the way it twitches and shakes, just as desperate as him.

“Look at that,” he mutters darkly, eyes glued to where he’s laid his cock flat against your stomach, leaking pre-come all over your soft skin. “How’s it gonna fit, baby?” He shifts his hips, sawing his length back and forth to see just how deep in you he’ll be.

Your glassy eyes drop, a broken moan passing through your slack lips when you take in the sight. Your hips rise off the bed, grinding your cunt along the seam of his heavy balls, along the prominent vein trailing up the underside.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Logan grits out, eyes hooded and dark as he watches you grind against him. “You’re gonna take it all. Gonna make you feel every last fuckin’ bit of me.”

He groans, gritting his teeth as he presses in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shudders as he fills you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sinks down until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours. 

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around him in rhythmic pulses that make his vision blur. He stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

Logan watches your face as you adjust to the stretch, your brows pinched together, each breath coming fast and shallow, your eyes glazed with pleasure.

Then, your hands come to his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin as you nod your head, ready.

It’s all the confirmation he needs. His hips pull back before he slams in again, the force of it jolting your whole body. He presses his forehead to your shoulder, teeth bared as he muffles a snarl against your skin.

Logan thrusts again, and again, and again, hips setting a merciless pace as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each thrust, each little shudder.

His mouth waters with the need to taste, to sink his teeth into your supple skin hard enough to pierce clean through, hard enough to scar.

Sweat drips down the length of his spine, across his brow. It mats down the hair scattered over his chest, his dog tags slick with it when they bounce off his skin with each thrust. The grip of his hands tightens on your hips, it’s taking everything in him to hold back and yet he knows you’ll still bruise tomorrow. 

Pretty hues of dark purples and yellows in the shape of his fingers, ones he’ll catch you admiring in the bathroom mirror, pressing your own fingertips into them to feel the dull ache—to remember this moment.

“Made for this, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice dark and possessive. “Made to take me, to be mine.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your cries as he drives into you, pushing you both closer to that sweet edge.

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp, breaking the kiss as your body trembles under him. “Can–ah!–can feel you in my stomach…”

Your hand drops from his shoulder, slipping between your bodies to rest over the sweaty expanse of your belly. Logan’s eyes follow your path, a feral growl bursting from his chest before he can stop it.

He’s transfixed by it, sure that if he pressed his hand to the soft skin of your lower stomach right over your own, that he’d feel it. Feel the way his cock punches up against your insides, so deep it's like he’s rearranging your guts to make room.

“Fuck.” His voice is nothing but a gravelly rumble, hoarse and dark as midnight. His hips speed up impossibly faster, chasing the feeling of your clenching walls choking the length of his cock so tight he thinks it might snap off at the base.

The flimsy headboard of your bed slams against the wall, creaky mattress springs screaming under his ministrations.

You feel like salvation, like the first rays of light after too many years spent in the dark.

He feels it with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails leave on the skin of his back. He feels alive, truly alive, for the first time in decades.

“Say my name,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look up at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin. “Tell me who you belong to.”

"Logan," you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you closer to the brink. "Yours. Only yours."

A broken, shaky noise falls from his lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest. 

Flashes of his release spraying your insides play behind his closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull. He feels it building, the slow swell of his knot presses against your folds, ready to burst.

“Come on, honey,” he begs, thumb coming down to rub slow circles over your slick clit. “Come with me, soak my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you love me.”

Pathetic little uh uh uh’s fall from you with every thrust, broken up only by the breathy whines of his name as he pounds into you hard enough to push your body higher up the mattress. Finally, with a loud roar, he stuffs his growing knot inside of your cunt. 

Logan’s teeth sink into your neck before he can even think twice about it, the thick spray of his come filling you as his hands pull your hips down even further over his cock. He needs to be as deep in you as possible, to press forward until he can’t anymore, until his aching balls are flush with your gushing cunt.

He watches with rapt attention as you come with a loud wail, just from the feeling of his knot slotting into place. The clamp of your thighs over his hips is nearly as tight as the way your cunt seizes around him like it’s scared he’ll leave.

He groans at the over stimulation of your cunt milking his cock. Your slick leaks around the base of him, your shaking hole plugged so full it can only slip along the creamy ring to splash weakly against his thighs and hips.

Logan licks along the spot where his teeth pierced your skin, planting one last kiss before he’s taking you in his arms and rolling onto his back atop the mattress. The plush comforter sticks to his skin, your own sweaty body slipping against his as he tries his best to not jostle you too much while keeping you stuffed full of his cock.

He holds you to his chest until your breathing evens out, until your body stops trembling on top of his, until you’re nosing along the column of his neck.

“Logan?” Your voice is tiny, hoarse and scratchy. He feels your hand drawing absent minded shapes along the skin of his stomach. A circle, a star, a figure eight, a heart.

“Yeah baby?” he says, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, eyes slipping shut at the content feeling that spreads through him.

“Love you,” you murmur, voice soft but sure, the words slipping out without hesitation.

It’s the first time you’ve said it today, and hearing those three words from you sends warmth flooding through him.

Logan shifts slightly, pulling you even closer, his hand moving to the back of your head, cradling you with a kind of tenderness he used to think he’d never be capable of. “I love you too, darlin’. More than you know.”

Your body relaxes against him, the lingering effects of your shared intimacy still buzzing through your limbs, but now there’s a sense of peace, of safety, and a deeper connection.

He can feel the way your fingers curl lightly against his skin, the quiet smile that must be tugging at your lips as you press a kiss to the side of his neck.

And in that moment, with everything settled around him, Logan knows that this, right here, is everything.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[kusanagi-haruno]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NIGHTS LIKE THIS !

ఌ sum: Ever since Gojo saw you, he’s been nothing but love struck. And as time passes, you find yourself feeling the same.

wc: 3.2K

Warnings: Fem!reader, Gojo is basically obsessed with you, Uni AU, Modern AU, Eventual smut, Porn w plot, Making out, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Light choking, Praising, Pet names: Pretty girl, beautiful, sweet girl.

a/n: originally this was written for my friend with a different character, but I decided to change it to gojo so I can post it here for you lovelies :)!!!!

Lovestruck Gojo! who forgot how to breathe when he first saw you enter the lecture the first day. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every detail from when you first entered through the door to when you sat down. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw you sit a few rows in front of him. He ignored the stinging pain that followed after biting the wall of his mouth, too entranced by you to even care.

Lovestruck Gojo! who grew more frustrated as the weeks passed. He cursed his inability to go up to you and just talk. The way your lips seemed to shine every time he looked at them, how the outsides of your eyes creased when you smiled just made him so nervous.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears his prayers finally have been answered when you two were paired up for a project. He sat up a little bit straighter when the professor announced your name next to his. He swore the sun shined a little bit brighter that day.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s heart raced when he noticed you make your way towards him at the end of the lecture. He pretended not to notice you, which was hard because he knows he’s noticed just about everything you had to offer. His heart raced when he heard your voice speak to him, in his head was a million thoughts scrambling through his mind.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s voice cracked when he spoke his first words to you. “I’m sorry?” He questioned when he realized he didn’t respond to you. “Want to exchange contacts? It’ll be easier to keep in touch this way,” he heard you ask. It felt like his breath got caught in his throat, the softness, the perfection of your voice paralyzed him. He knew he had to answer this time, he had to make a good first impression.

Lovestruck Gojo! who hurriedly agreed to give you his number. After that brief conversation, he watched you walk away. He swore his heart would jump out of his chest any moment now, however he wouldn’t even be mad, not when the reason his heart was beating was because of you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears he’s on cloud nine. Ever since the both of you have been partnered up for that project, the both of you have slowly gotten closer and closer. Everyday he would wake up with one thought in his mind, you. When he got ready for your guys’ daily meet up to slowly progress on the project, he made sure to look his very best. He always double checked to see if his hair was laid correctly, that his teeth looked white as ever, and that his clothes smelled perfect.

Lovestruck Gojo! who silently congratulated himself every time he made you laugh. Sometimes you would catch him staring, but you found yourself not being bothered by it one bit. You couldn’t deny that you undoubtedly caught feelings for the man in front of you during the time you guys spent together. You found yourself blushing everytime he remembered your coffee order, even more so when he paid for it everytime.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt like his world was destroyed when the project came to an end. He should’ve felt any form of happiness, but he couldn’t. Not when he had no excuse to see you anymore. When he rolled over in his bed, he felt like sinking into it just to never come out again.

Lovestruck Gojo! who groaned when he heard his phone buzz signaling he got a notification. He silently debated on ignoring it, almost positive it was a random notification from a random app. Although he twisted and turned, soon facing his phone on the nightstand beside him with a small hope that maybe, maybe, you texted him.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose heart went from 0 to 100 the moment he saw it was you who texted him. He immediately opened the notification and read your text, he smiled so hard that it hurt. “Party tn, wanna come? We can let loose a little as a little celebration for finishing that stupid project :).”

Lovestruck Gojo! who never got ready so fast in his life before. He made sure to reply to your text before doing so, he’d rather die than have you think he purposefully ignored you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who had no idea just how fast your heart was beating. Your friends pressured you into texting him, knowing just how much you liked him. You didn’t know whether to curse them out or hug them, but the thought diminished as soon as you saw he replied to you, agreeing to come.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt the same as he first did the very first second he saw you when he saw you tonight, in front of him. He clenched his fists when he took note just how many other men were in the same building as you, almost hard enough to draw blood. All negative feelings vanished when he locked eyes with you, and instead new ones blossomed. He took note how you styled your hair, and wore a little more makeup than usual. His eyebrows furrowed when he thought that you wanted to look good for somebody else.

Lovestruck Gojo! who slowly lost himself in your eyes. The both of you agreed to dance with each other, mirroring each other's smiles. He lost track of time, not that he cared though. The only thing he cared about was the feeling of your arms around his neck, your eyes looking right at him and fuck the glossiness of your lips. Everything about you was perfect, and he wanted to kill every man who looked at you tonight.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose body felt like it was on fire right now. He doesn’t know who leaned first, but he couldn’t give a fuck about that. Not when the feeling over your soft, plushy lips against his sent his mind, body, and soul to heaven and back. He could only focus on the small, shaky breaths that escaped your lips when he sucked particularly hard, and fuck he loved it more than he should. What’s new though, he always loved you way more than the normal amount.

Lovestruck Gojo! who almost whined when you finally broke the kiss, but what you said after instantly made up for it. “Wanna get out of here?” He didn’t know how a person could be so fucking adorable, but you break his expectations everyday.

His silently nodded, little pants escape his lips as you take his hand and lead him out of the party.

As soon as the two of you barely make it to your dorm, you’re pushed up against the door. You let out a gasp when your head meets the firmness of your dorm door, but quickly the pain turns into pleasure when he takes the opportunity of your opened mouth to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands touch every part of your body, trying to memorize every part of you. You hear him chuckle against your lips when you let out soft whines when he touches a particularly sensitive spot, and fuck did that make you wet.

“Such a fucking pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth. You let out a whine at the praise, your hands resting against his firm chest. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing them whenever he finds himself feeling too much of everything.

He often found himself denying that you were real, but you were here, under his touch, kissing him. Him, of all people. If he told his past self that he’d up like this with you, his past self would laugh, or faint, either or.

You find yourself slowly backing up until you hit your bed with him looming over you. The both of you take a second to just look at each other, a million things spoken with just one look. Both of your eyes gazing at each other full of lust and love before leaning back into each other with more passion than before.

“G-Gojo..fuck,” you moan out as you arch your back. The man on top of you started to slowly roll his hips against yours, the feeling making pleasure flow through the entirety of your body, no area left untouched. “I- ah..I know baby I know”, he coos, feeling the same if not more.

You feel his big hands tug at your shirt, a silent demand to take it off, and you do with no hesitation. Gojo is awestruck, absolutely entranced with how beautiful you look. Every part of you is absolutely perfect, fuck he feels like the luckiest man alive right now.

He detaches his lips from yours, a small string of spit hangs between the both of you. His hands move from the side of your face to your chest, then slowly down to your hips before resting on the side of your stomach. He leaves soft kisses against different areas of your stomach as his hands roam your torso, silently worshiping your body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his thumbs stroking the sides of your torso. You let out soft airy breaths in response to his delicate touches, each kiss igniting a small flame in the same area he kissed you.

When he finally makes your way down to your waist, he looks up at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a slight nod and lift your hips to help him remove your pants. Once Gojo throws your bottoms on the floor somewhere you start to get flustered. Almost your whole body is exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Guess you’re going to have to change that.

You softly call out his name, to which he answers with a small hum. His face is near your clothed pussy, so when he hummed you felt every little bit of it. You subconsciously opened your legs to the feeling of pleasure that sparked through your body as, and let out a squeak when he places a small kiss to your clothed pussy.

“Gojo..” you whine. “Y-you’re still dressed,” you pant out. You feel him chuckle from in between your legs and you let out another small moan in response. “Aww, is my poor baby embarrassed?” He mocks, a small smirk gracing his features.

“N-no..” You mumble with a small pout, but the both of you know otherwise. Gojo quickly rids of his shirt and leans down to give you a quick peck before moving down to your pussy.

You feel your panties are wet, and he sees that they’re wet, and you should feel embarrassed but you don’t.

Gojo tears off your panties and before you can complain, he licks a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. You buck up in response to which his hands fly to your hips to hold them down. After that he makes quick work of making a mess out of you.

You release moan after moan when he repeatedly laps your clit, showing no sign of stopping. The lewd noises of your wet squelches and his sucking fill the room, along with your whimpers and his groans.

As he eats you out the small praises he drunkenly says are lost on your ears. The only thing you can focus on, can even comprehend, was the feeling of his tongue against your wet pussy and oh, the finger he slipped in your poor little pussy.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he praises when he sees you take his finger with no struggle. When your legs twitch he knows you're close and speeds up the thrusting of his one finger and the speed of his tongue against your clit.

“Ah, ah fuck! G-Gojo,” you scream out, so close, just one more second and…

You let out a sob when you feel his finger quickly slip out of your sobbing pussy, and the feeling of his tongue no longer working on your clit. You could almost cry at the lost orgasm.

“Y-you’re so mean,” you sniffle out. “Can’t have you cummin yet baby,” he says shakily. His breaths come out in pants, his thoughts all over the place but the only constant is you.

He leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh, sucking on them every few kisses. He mumbles soft praises in between, “You're so beautiful, my pretty girl, doing so well.”

When he decides your thighs are littered with enough marks, he moves up your body coming face to face with you. His two fingers prod at your mouth, silently telling you to open your mouth. You obey, your tongue swirling around his thick fingers, tears threatening to spill your eyes.

While you’re working on his two fingers he took the liberty of slowly rolling his hips against yours. He kisses your cheek when he removes his fingers from your mouth, and slowly trails them along your body till he reaches your pussy.

The both of your lips connect when he slowly drags his fingers lightly down your body till they stop at your entrance. He coaxes you to breathe, staring into your eyes as he teases your clit.

He starts to pump his fingers into you, your juices coating his fingers. As you start to loosen up even more he slides another finger into you. The feeling of his thick hands inside of you make you feel impossibly stretched. It feels so good, everything feels so good fuck.

As you near your orgasm you pull him close to you, whimpering and panting wanting, needing to finish as his fingers ruthlessly attack the spongy spot inside your pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whine fucked out on his fingers. “Please Gojo let me cum,” you lean in to kiss him but he pulls back, teasing you. He pretends to think, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he growls out. Matching his thrusts with his words. “Guess I should let you,” he finishes and kisses you.

His fingers speed up making your legs twitch as you reach your climax. Your moans are beautiful against his ears, he can never get enough of you. You’re so perfect.

You call out his name when you cum, your juices spraying out and coating his fingers. He slows down his tempo to help you ride through your orgasm, swallowing your cute little pants and whines.

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” He coos, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still blissfully fucked out on his fingers. You let out a hum to signal you’re still with him.

Red coats your cheeks when you hear him say that you taste so fucking good. You use both of your hands to grasp on his forearm that’s attached to the hand on your cheek. “Mm Gojo,” you softly whisper out his name, not completely sure what the real goal was. You just wanted to say his name.

“I know baby, I know,” he quickly places a peck on your forehead before leaning back and quickly undoing his belt and jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Still in your fucked out state you don’t notice just how big he is.

He makes quick work of his boxers, throwing them in a random corner of the room before leaning down over you. “Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asks, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t out of breath. Of course you were okay with this, more than okay. “Yesyesyes, just let me feel you. I want you. Please,” you breathe out, looking straight into his eyes.

And something in him just snaps.

Hearing you beg for him, how utterly desperate you sound, it’s too much, you’re too much. His feelings for you are too much. He drags you to the end of the bed and places your legs over his shoulders. He shoves your full length inside of your pussy and you cry out. He’s so big…

You barely have time to adjust before he pulls back out and slams back into you. You grip onto his back, nails scratching down the entirety of his backside. “‘Ts too much- Ah!” moan after moan fills the room, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other is basically drowned out by both your cries and his grunts.

The ruthless pace he sets makes your tits bounce against his chest, and he doesn’t fail to notice. His mouth greedily sucks on one while his hand fondles the other. “Oh my god! You feel so good ah..,” the sound of your cute little moans do downright dirty things to him. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

When he decides your right boob is marked up enough he moves to your other, spitting on it before continuing his same merciless treatment on it.

You feel like your soul left your body when one of his hands lifted your hips a bit so he could thrust deeper into you. His cock is filling every single bit of you, and your pussy is greedily sucking him in.

“Ngh..Gojo feels so good. Your cock is filling me ah! so well,” you chant out his name like a prayer.

Once he declares both of your pretty tits taken care of he wraps a hand around your throat and makes eye contact with you. “Beautiful girl..taking me so well. Perfect, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises against your lips.

Both of you are near, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and Gojo can feel how your pretty pussy is gripping him even more tight. It’s basically calling out his name, pulsing around his dick like a needy little thing.

“Gojo!” You scream out when you cum for the second time that night. Just a few more thrusts and he releases inside of you as well, spilling his warm cum inside of you.

His pace slows as he rides out his orgasm while also helping you ride out yours. “So perfect..did so well, pretty girl, did so fucking good,” he whispers. He continues to let out sweet praises as both of you continue to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but when you reopened them you were now in the bath against a firm, hard chest. You close your eyes again, relishing the feeling of being relaxed against him.

Gojo on the other hand is still in awe, he can’t, will not believe that you’re here with him. Leaning against him like this has been routine for years, like you guys have been together.

He rests his cheek against your head and you softly hum. His hands gently rub incoherent shapes against your hips as the two of you seek comfort against the both of each other.

Lovestruck!Gojo who kisses the crown of your head as his arms snake around your waist. His hold tightens, and you let it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who promises himself to keep holding you like this now, and in the future. Who promises to never let you go, and you’d never dream of letting him.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

New Puppet Unlocked: Caine, The Puppetmaster!

Caine's character description:

For the longest time, Caine believed that he was the only Puppet left who hasn't gone insane, and has spent living in near complete and total isolation for it (if it weren't for Bubble, his robotic Butler Blimp), drowning himself in booze. That was, until Pomni suddenly arrived at his office out of nowhere and challenged him.

Her sudden appearance, her fierceness in battle and various other reasons, Caine sought to get Pomni to see the dire situation after a stalemate in their duel; That they're the last remnants of sane minds remaining in this forsaken lands and he needs her help for what must be done next, if they are to improve the world's conditions. Thankfully, the Harlequin was not actually cold-hearted, just hot-tempered.

Reinvigorated in his self-assigned purpose, The Puppetmaster now spends his time either indoctrinating reawakened Puppets and teaching them how to become "human" once more, tinkering/inventing new machines, having friendly debates or sparring with Pomni just to satisfy her urge to battle, and various other things.

Though, he still likes to drink.

Fun facts about Caine:

He is a massive drunkard.

He passes out in the most random places if he drinks too much. One of the most outrageous locations Pomni has found him in was at the chandelier on the main lounge, which even he can't remember how he got there.

Caine still acts boisterous and speaks mostly formally; though there are ways you can break his way of speech, the easiest way to do it is to surprise him.

He avoids using swears, says it's a gentleman's code. Though, some get past his mouth on a rare occasion.

He created Bubble out of loneliness, initially just wanting someone to talk to.

In a comedic parallel, he tends to limit Pomni's cravings for battle by holding her sword hostage as much as possible, of course to the Harlequin's frustration.

His second gold tooth on his bottom jaw was a result of his and Pomni's first meeting/duel. She ended up kicking him so hard in her rage, one teeth cracked in half and flew off.

He tends to look at everyone with a positive mindset and the want to see the best in them; although Jax seems to be a rare exception. Still, he lets the automaton be.

Most of his time is spent hanging around in his office. The only time you'll see him outside is if there's a task he needs to attend to, assembling Pomni back together in the cellar, another sparring match with the Harlequin, or when he talks to Z and/or Kingr, since they are both too big for the insides of the mansion.

Like almost every ADHD-person, he is prone to getting distracted easily.

He has a strict "no fighting in the premises" rule; instead, he tells them to literally take it outside (even if it means being on the neighboring lawn), as long as it's not on the INSIDE.

He keeps his shirt opened because he feels discomfort and suffocated when he buttons it up.

He doesn't like to talk about his past.

When asked what's his classification, he'll avoid and switch topics. His rare anger (but eerily-calm way of speech) comes out when you ask about it too much.

He does admit that his entire body was self-modified.

You can hear his arrival in a scene by the sounds of ball joints slightly cracking in place.

Aside from Pomni, he likes Kingr the most, finding the chess piece's presence calming. This has lead to jokes about a bromance happening between the two.

And just like Pomni as well, Caine fixes Kingr the most because the Helpful King tends to use himself as a shield for the Harlequin.

He's rarely seen without his cane.

He HEAVILY dislikes it when Pomni dies. When he is aware that Pomni is at the brink of death, he'll start panicking and telling her to go back and abandon the mission for now, through Bubble.

Quotes:

"Greetings! I am Caine, and I am here to help you. That's all you need to know."

"I think we can arrange that."

"This is not part of the plan!"

"No fighting! Take it outside."

"Perhaps we can reach to a sort of agreement..."

"Hmm... quite intriguing."

"Why, I must say, this is quite the predicament..."

"Will you be mindful of your own sake next time, pretty please?"

"... I don't-... think that's how-... you know what, do whatever you want."

"... Okay, you don't need to go that far."

"You know what this calls for? [...] A CELEBRATION! [...] BUBBLE, TO THE LIQUOR STORAGE"

"You know, I haven't really thought this through enough--"

"BUBBLE! Did you chew through my latest project again?!"

"Oy vey..."

"I am aware of the effect that alcohol has on me. And quite frankly, I don't care."

"Strange, where am I? Who am I? What are we, but mass-produced products catered to extending one's stay on a desolate, abandoned realm? Are we even human anymore, or are we machines that think we're human in order to save ourselves from the pain of a fake existence? Hm? Oh right, I haven't eaten my dinner."

"Must we really resort to this method?"

"Oh, I just fixed that!"

"Apologies, I blanked out for a second. What were we talking about?"

"Bubble here can help you out on your dilemma. Just don't listen to him for any advices. Personally, I think sometimes he can make you jump off a cliff."

"What do you mean "I need to stop drinking"? I'm perfectly fi- *passes out*"

"Am I aware that it is an unhealthy coping mechanism? Yes. Do I plan to stop? Not exactly, there aren't a lot of options left."

"That is outrageous! Me? With her? That's... It's... *sigh* I can't. She'd never."

"May I just say, for once, what the actual fuck."

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

on camera / jj maybank

rated: m (18+, minors dni)

masterlist

wc: 4.2k

cw: onlyfans!jj, voyeurism, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv (don't do this!!), cursing, some degradation (whore, slut)

you complain to jj about being broke. after being offended at his onlyfans suggestion, you learn something new about your best friend. offering to show you what he means turns into something neither of you were anticipating.

(i'm going to make this a series, leave comments/send requests for what else jj and reader could film together *winky face*)

-

  “i’m not making an only fans,” you scoff, walking away from jj and towards the chateau.

  jj rolls his eyes before chasing after you. “why not? you need money, it’s so easy, and you have a hot body. it’s a no brainer, y/n,” he tries saying.

  “i don’t really want my naked body on the internet,” you say.

  jj grabs the door you try hard to slam in his face to get away. “okay, that’s a valid concern, but just blur your face,” he continues.

  you groan, turning to face him since you won’t be getting away. “even if i wanted to, the thought of recording myself and just ugh it’s terrifying,” you explain.

  “it isn’t that bad, y/n, i swear,” jj says, looking at you seriously.

  you shake your head, eyes closed. “like you would know, jj,” you mutter. 

  jj purses his lips, debating the risk of just saying it all. “you don’t really think i make all that money just working at the country club, do you?” he asks in a lower voice. your face changes to shock, jj does what?

  “wait… you have a…” you begin, not knowing fully how to process.

  jj nods slowly. “yeah, and it’s not like i make enough to live off of, but combined with my job… it helps. and you’re saying your job isn’t enough and i’m telling you something like this could help you get more of the money you need,” he says.

  “i need a minute,” you mutter, walking to the couch. you bring your hand to your mouth, biting your nails as images flash in your mind. how did it work? what did he do? did he set up a camera? did he take photos? did he video himself cumming? did he make videos with other girls? 

  jj chuckles awkwardly, seeing the gears in your head turning. he walks over, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “most of the time, it’s like pictures i just take on my phone in the mirror or something. or i’ll take short videos just… well, you know like on snapchat or something type ones. and occasionally i’ll go through the effort of setting my phone up, bought a stupid tripod and everything, and i get more money when i talk in them or really just make noises in general. my face is either never in them or always blurred, it gets easier as you go,” he explains.

  you shake your head again, covering your eyes. “j, i don’t wanna think about you like that,” you whine in complaint. jj laughs, putting his hand on your shoulder.

  “sorry, sweetheart,” he says with a small smile. “just trying to give you an idea of how easy it could be, only if you want,” he explains before taking his hand away.

  “well, i just don’t think i could. i honestly find it hard to believe you can,” you chuckle, picking at a string on the couch. 

  jj puts his hand to his chest in mock offense. “what do you mean? i happen to be quite the sex symbol thank you very much,” he says. you both laugh, shaking your head at his theatrics.

  now how did you get in this position? you weren’t sure. jj’s always been known for being convincing and a little too inappropriate, especially when it comes to you. you just weren’t sure how he managed to convince you into this.

  “you sure?” jj asks, grabbing the remote for his led lights and turning it to red. you blink in surprise at the lights and then he turns the overhead light off.

  you look at him, seeing him already looking at you expectantly. “did you buy led lights just for this?” you ask, and jj nods sheepishly. “i knew it was out of character for you,” you mutter, looking around more at his room to see that it’s more cleaned up than usual.

jj takes a moment to process your words. he didn’t know you realized that much about him. “that’s not an answer to my question,” he points out. 

you take a breath, analyzing the scene in front of you. for the first time in your life, jj’s bed was made. the room was casted in the warm light of a single lamp and the red leds. his phone was set up on a small tripod on top of his dresser facing his empty bed. “you have a door, if i can’t do it… i’ll leave,” you say. 

jj nods and walks over to his phone. “i do talk… during them, it uh, they like it more that way. so it’s kind of like i’m acting out a scene with no one else there. really makin’ use of the imagination,” he explains. you nod, wrapping your arms around yourself and standing next to the dresser and out of frame of his camera. he gives you a sheepish smile before pressing record. 

it’s not like you had much time to prepare for this. i mean… how do you really prepare to watch your best friend make porn? if jj was uncomfortable, he wasn’t showing it. 

he moved in front of the phone camera, giving you one last glance before peeling his shirt over his head. “i’ve been waiting on this all day, baby,” he mutters, causing your eyes to bulge out of your head. why did he sound so much sexier all of a sudden?

he rubs his hands down his torso slowly, sensually until he reaches the waistband of his shorts. “you want me to take them off? you wanna come help me get my dick hard?” he asks in a teasing voice. 

maybe you weren’t ready for this. but part of you wanted to stay, needed to stay even. he tsked, pushing down the basketball shorts he’d been wearing for the day. you bit your lip, watching him sit down on the edge of his bed. “come touch me, baby,” he says, leaning back and sliding his hand down to run over his half hard length. he lets out a small groan. “just like that, mm,” he says, closing his eyes. your stomach dips in arousal. jj had always been hot, but he’d also always been your best friend. but right now, you wanted nothing more than to be the girl he was fantasizing about for his video. 

your eyes are trained on the growing tent in his boxers, seeing his dick grow with each pass of his hand. everytime you thought he was at his fullest, he kept growing. you rock from foot to foot to give yourself something else to maybe focus on, but it wasn’t working. “you feel how hard you get daddy?” he asks the camera and you’re at a loss of air. you never thought hearing jj referring to himself as daddy would get you so hot. you knew your face was on fire, and you felt all too hot with way too many clothes. jj glanced at you, gulping when he saw your flustered expression. 

“time to get out of these,” he muttered, eyes more on you than the camera, as if to warn you. he lifted up his hips while leaning back on one arm and then used the other to push down his waist band. his cock bounced free and you felt your panties dampen. he pushed them completely off quickly and then his hand was wrapped around the base of his thick, long, cock. he looked… ethereal. bathed in a mixture of warm light and red, making his skin look perfect. he let out a low moan as he tugged upwards. “fuck, always making me feel so good,” he grunts, jerking himself slowly. he dares to look at you once more, dick twitching at the sight of your obvious nerves and subtle movement of your thighs rubbing together. 

he continued to jerk himself, imagining you getting on your knees in front of him. “i want you to choke on this cock baby, get it all nice and wet for me so i can fuck you so good,” he groans. you’re unable to hold back the small whimper and jj’s eyes shoot to you as you put your hand over your mouth. 

jj knows he has the opportunity, and he would hate himself if he didn’t try. “why don’t you just come over here, y/n?” he asks, sitting up straighter. 

you blink hard, glancing from him to the phone in complete shock. “i-, you-” you scramble, pointing to the phone. 

he understands your concern. “i’ll bleep out your name, our faces will be blurred, i won’t even post it if you don’t want to. just try, with me, please?” he proposed. a million thoughts ran through your mind, hundreds of concerns, lots of questions, but above all: desire. 

“o-okay,” you whisper. jj smiles at your response and motions you over to him. he scoots to the side of his bed, looking at his phone screen to make sure he’s still in view. 

you walk slowly to the side of his bed. “take these clothes off for me, pretty girl,” he hums, grabbing you by your waist and running his hands up and down your sides. “i’ll cut this part out, but if you want to slow down or stop just let me know okay? this is all in your ballpark now, y/n,” he says, massaging your hips with his thumbs. 

you look to the phone, seeing the image being recorded and take a deep breath. “okay, but i-i’m going to need to just follow your lead, i-i’m nervous,” you admit.

“nervous because of the phone or because of me?” he asks. 

you shrug, looking away from him. “both,” you answer truthfully. 

jj nods understandingly. “um, would you rather not do it, because it’s me? i’m going to be so honest when i say, i’ve thought about you, like this, a lot. but i get it, we’re friends and if you’re scared of this hurting that i get it. but personally, i don’t think anything could ruin our relationship,” he says. 

“j, i want to, i just… need your direction,” you explain. 

jj smiles at your response, it soon turning to a smirk. “good thing i like being in charge,” he mutters, snapping your waist band. you giggle shyly before guiding jj’s hands to undo the button of your shorts. “oh, needy girl needs me to do it all for her. i see,” he says, yanking you towards him so he can pull them down. jj looks at the pair of underwear you have on and his face starts to get a bit redder. 

“look at these,” he hums, running his hands along the band at your hips. they were a nice dark green lace with a little bow that was way too innocent for how they looked. “show them your pretty panties, baby,” he says, using his grip to turn you to face the camera. you move your hips jokingly side to side, trying to make yourself less nervous. “there you go, look at this little bow,” he chuckles, flicking it with his finger. “let’s show em the back,” he says after a minute of you standing there and him running his hands along them. he lets out a grunt as the cheeky bottoms show off your ass.

jj always thought you had a really nice ass, but right now? he was obsessed. “what?” you muttered, noticing his silence.

he just looks up to you shaking his head. “can’t believe you’ve been hiding this ass from me,” he says, reaching around you and gripping a cheek harshly for the camera to see before slapping it. you yelp in surprise causing jj to smile smugly.

  jj reaches for the edge of your t-shirt, pulling you back to face him before pushing it up. you follow his hint, taking it in your hands and pulling it off to drop it on the floor. “oh fuck, look at those,” jj says, grabbing your waist and pulling you as close to him as he can. he wastes no time burying his face in between your breasts and kissing up your sternum. 

“j,” you mutter in ecstasy, arousal flooding your panties as you start to really think about the situation you’re in. 

you put your hands into his hair, running the strands between your fingers. “don’t say my name, baby,” he mutters against your skin. his tongue softly caresses the swell of your breast before he begins sucking. 

you pout, but realize you probably shouldn’t be using names if this was going to be posted to jj’s only fans. “what am i supposed to call you then?” you ask, letting your head fall back as you took in the feeling of him sucking on your tits.

jj chuckled and then pulled away from your skin. “daddy,” he says, squeezing your ass in tandem to get you to look at him. you look at him in shock, not expecting him to be so forward. “or, if that’s too much, just stick with babe and stuff, ok?” he continues before checking to make sure you were good. you nod in response and he smiles, looking to the camera before beginning to adjust you. jj pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle his thigh. 

he presses his lips to your neck passionately and you let out a moan of surprise. you held his neck with one hand, the other fisting the hair at the nape of his neck. jj held your hip with one hand and used the other on the back of your shoulder blades to push you into him. “need to work you up a bit, don’t want this done too fast,” he mumbles into your skin. 

after a moment of just that, both his hands fall to your hips and he uses his grip to grind you against his bare thigh before pulling away. “fuck, baby, i can feel how wet you are through your panties,” he groans, eyes closing at the feeling of your arousal seep through the thin fabric and leave a trail on his thigh. you whine, burying your face in his neck and beginning to suck a hickey above his collarbone. “what a good girl, getting all messy for me with so little attention. you just want to be my good little girl, don’t ya,” jj grunts, his mind struggling to process that he was talking to you and not a screen. 

jj pushes you off him carefully, laying you down on the bed so your pussy was facing the camera. he sits to your side, grabbing the sides of your panties and looking to you for approval. you nod and he wastes no time peeling them off your body, mouth watering at the sight of a string of arousal connecting your soaked panties to your core. he throws your underwear to the side and then yanks your knees open so the camera could see you all spread out. jj pulls your leg over his lap as he slightly turns. “can i touch your pretty pussy, baby?” he asks, rubbing the innermost part of your thigh just centimeters from your throbbing cunt, all while looking you in the eyes. 

“please,” you whimper, trying to thrust your hips down towards his hand. 

jj smirks, using his middle finger and dipping it into the pool of your arousal near your entrance. his fingers slowly glide upwards, the anticipation making you bite on your lower lip. he reaches your clit, using his singular finger to make slow, slippery circles around your clit. you look to his face, seeing just how focused in he is on his movements. “so wet for me, i think i might have to make this pretty pink little pussy mine,” he says in a husky voice while using his finger to pull your clit upwards, stretching your lips and making you whimper.

“daddy, please,” you say, wriggling your hips. jj looks up to you in slight shock, not expecting you to fall so comfortably so fast. 

jj tsks, adding another finger to swipe across your clit a couple times before lowering down. he checks his phone to make sure you’re both still in frame and then dips his middle and ring finger into you. you moan lowly, letting your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of finally having something inside of you. jj closes his eyes to hold himself together as he starts slowly moving his fingers in and out of you. “you look like such a whore for me, baby,” he says, watching you through his phone screen, mesmerized by the way his fingers easily disappeared into you. he knew his head would be spinning the second his dick was inside of you. “dreamt of this cunt, holy shit,” jj groans, speeding up his pace as you grip onto his arm. you whimper beneath his hand, needing more friction on your clit. 

you squeeze your legs together, the sensation making you choke in pleasure as you scratch jj’s arm. “more,” you moan, back arching as your closed legs make jj’s palm make contact with your clit. 

“more?” jj chuckles, taking his hand away from your pussy and watching mesmerized as you whine for his touch. “does my little slut want my dick? already?” he teases, shoving your knees apart once more. you nod eagerly at him, pussy clenching around nothing. jj motions for you to sit up and you do. he helps maneuver you so you’re now facing sideways, but a little diagonal with your bottom angled slightly towards the camera. 

jj moves to his knees, kneeling in front of you now. “you good with this still?” he asks, faltering back to his semi worried state, checking on you. 

you hold your hands out towards him causing him to lean towards you. you grab the sides of his neck forcing him to stare directly into your eyes. “i really, really need you to fuck me,” you say, thumb tracing his jaw. jj lets out a breath through his nose, nostrils flaring as he tries to hold himself back. he was doing this for you as a friend. he said that this wasn’t going to change your friendship and he wanted to stick as closely to that as possible. he had an overwhelming urge to kiss you, but you didn’t ask for anything romantic between the two of you, this was business. kissing you would mess it up, it would make it too personal. 

he pulls back gently, grabbing your hips and pulling them to him. to avoid having his urge to kiss you worsen, he opts to keep his face further from yours. “i’ll pull out,” he mutters lowly, not wanting to stop to search for a condom he wasn’t even sure he had. you just nod feverishly, not even caring if he decided to cum inside you anyway. “gonna fuck this pretty pussy so good,” he groans, using his hand to guide himself to your entrance. 

he slips just the head of his cock inside, feeling you clench around him as a small moan leaves your lips. “daddy, please, want it hard,” you whine. jj swears his eyes could roll back into his head after hearing you say those words.

before you can register his movements, you’re moaning and throwing your head back as pleasure begins blooming in your gut. jj grabs the backs of your knees, moving your legs up to rest on his chest. he holds onto your lower calves as he rams his dick fully inside of you with no warning. you’re gripping the bed sheets as he grunts and pulls his hips back. “bout to fuck you so hard you’ll go fucking stupid,” he says, punctuating with a sharp forward thrust would sends him into a steady rhythm. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass fill his room, his phone picking up each whimper and grunt that escapes the two of you. you look over to the camera, pussy clenching as it fully hits you. 

jj was recording himself fuck you. he was filming, and he was fucking you. and he was going to post it. not only would a bunch of strangers get to see this, but jj would have it. he could watch it over, and over, and over again. you look at the image reflected on the screen. jj had your legs held tightly to his chest, your breasts were bouncing with each impact he made and you could see his balls slapping against you. your fingers were gripping the sheets and jj’s thighs were beginning to shake. he was holding himself back. he was going to cum because of you on camera. shit, he was going to make you cum on camera and then post it for his followers to see so he could make money off it. you had never felt so turned on.

not wanting to make jj suffer, you reach your hand furthest from the camera to your clit. “that’s it, babygirl, fuckkk yeah rub that pretty clit for daddy,” jj groans, watching your fingers move swiftly over your slick, sensitive clit. you curse, clenching around him as your fingers begin to send you to your edge. you’d never cum so fast, but the idea of being on camera and doing it with jj was something much more arousing than what you’d previously experienced. 

the feeling in your lower stomach was causing you to see stars as it grew tighter and tighter. you sped up the movement of your fingers as jj’s cock stretched you perfectly. “i-i think i’m gonna c-cum already,” you whine, eyes fluttering shut. 

jj picks up his pace, using all of his concentration on not busting inside of you. “cum for me, my fucking whore, fucking cum,” he grunts, his own vision beginning to blur. a loud, gasping moan is heard from you as you tighten around him almost painfully hard and your back arches high off the bed. you body jolts as your fingers continue their speed on your clit. jj drops your legs, pulling out of you quickly to rut between the juncture of your hip and lip of your pussy. you feel his cock nudging the edge of your hand as you send yourself through your orgasm and immediately grab his cock, moving him over to hump against your wet slit, the head of his cock rubbing against your clit as you covered him with your hand. jj grunts, hips stuttering as ropes of his cum splatter against your clit and up past your belly button. his hips grind harder into you as his jaw is dropped in a moan, reveling in riding out his orgasm with the feeling of spreading his cum across your pussy lips. 

both of you pant as you come down from your highs. once jj has enough of a hold on himself again, he pushes himself up and moves your hips to once again face the camera. he shows the camera your pussy, coated in his white cum as you intermediately clench around nothing while you finish coming down. jj moves to get up, stopping the recording and grabbing a t shirt from the floor. he wordlessly wipes you off, being extra careful to lightly go over your sensitive pussy. he wipes himself off as well and then throws the shirt back down and sits next to where your head was resting, eyes closed against the bed. 

“doing okay, y/n?” jj asks, looking at you unsure. you hum lowly, nodding. you blindly reach out next to you, your hand patting against the bed and jj’s thigh until he takes the hint and grabs ahold of your hand. “you sure?” he asks, rubbing the top of your knuckles with his thumb. 

you slowly blink your eyes open before looking at him. “i am doing… so much more than okay,” you say with a smile on your face. you both laugh and jj smiles at you with adoration. “so, when are you um, posting it?” you ask.

jj looks at you for a moment, smiling fading into a more serious face. “you know i don’t have to post it right?” he reminds you.

“uh yes you do, do i get a cut of what you make off it?” you say, also serious but putting a joking tone underneath. 

his finger stops stroking your knuckles. “you’re for real?” he asks and you’re quickly nodding. “well, um, it shouldn’t take me more than tonight to edit it,” he shrugs.

you smile up at him before pushing yourself up to your elbows. “so send me the link when you post it?” you ask, tone flirtier than before. jj smirks at you, liking this attitude on you. 

“you’ll have access to everything i’ve posted…” he trails off.

you raise your brows. “is that a problem?” you question. 

jj shakes his head, smirk growing. “just don’t hurt your arm fingering yourself to me,” he shrugs. you roll your eyes and smack him in the arm to which he just laughs.

“funny, now can you help me up please?” jj immediately moves to help you stand, talking to distract you from the fact that his dick was twitching again at the thought of you getting yourself off to him. 

[elssero]

streamer !

.d.kaminari

♰ nsfw, pro hero denki x f!reader, male masturbation

pro hero chargebolt logging onto twitch on his day off too see his favourite pretty streamer play her favourite games or talk about whatever’s currently trending.

it’s his favourite past time, he spends all week looking forward to his day off so he can catch up on all your streams he missed this week.

he gets especially giddy if you actually stream that day so he can watch it live.

at first his infatuation with you is innocent, your a rising streamer just like he’s a rising hero!! your situations are so similar in that sense, your both adjusting to your new found fame and your both rising the charts of your respected careers very fast.

he admires you! you seem to interact with fans and the media so easily so that he just can’t help but be drawn to you ! it’s not his fault ! but it helps that your exactly his type.

he feels incredibly lucky to be able to catch one of your streams live, your currently around thirty minutes into a just chatting stream, your doing a q&a more so aimed at new fans who don’t know all that much about you yet.

but he knows, he knows you answered questions extremely similar to the ones your answering now in your q&a two months ago but still he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face everytime you giggle, or at the little smirk you give the camera when you answer a question that could be deemed a little risky.

he watches the whole stream with anticipation, despite being able to correctly guess all the answers your giving, he is genuinely interested in what you have to say, he swears!! it’s not his fault the bludge in his pants keeps growing everytime you re-adjust the way your sitting or when you move your arms to type something on your keyboard and the action pushes your tits together slightly. he’s really is trying his hardest to ignore the growing feeling in his sweats but it’s getting sore !

not wanting to lose control completely he begins to palm himself over the material of his sweats, just slight rubbing down on himself to help the ache he feels from watching you do something as normal as answering a few questions from your fans.

your forty-five minutes into the stream now and a donation pops up with a question that you’ve never answered before, denki immediately straightens up, beyond eager to hear the answer to the question.

“hey pretty! first of all i love your streams but i need you to settle a debate for me! of all the new young heros that have had their debut this year which is your favourite?

you immediately giggle and thank the donator for their donation and their compliment, the question seems to still you for a second, you look deep in thought and denki is on the edge of his seat awaiting your answer.

you suddenly break out into a huge grin and begin to answer the question “firstly i think their all very inspiring! being able to use your quirk to help people in the way they do is very admirable i can’t help but always feel safe when i hear news of yet another save from our hero’s”

denkis breath hitches, he feels like he can’t breathe, you think he’s inspiring. you admire him.

“however, if i had to pick a favourite i guess it would probably be chargebolt” you take a second to think before you continue “i’ve seen a few of his interviews and i would say he’s clearly very charismatic, he seems like he would be easy to get along with!”

he watches in a trance as you giggle at the end of your sentence before taking a breathe and biting down a small smirk you say-

“he’s also very cute so that helps too!”

denki swears he could’ve came in his pants right there and then. you just admitted to all of your viewers that he’s your favorite up and coming hero. you just admitted to all your viewers that you think he’s cute.

he’s scrambling to reverse your stream to hear you say it again, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, when he hears it come out of your mouth for the 3rd- no 4th time he’s sure he isn’t hearing things.

he feels like he’s going feral, you his favourite twitch streamer, someone he’s been watching from afar getting his rocks off too for months just said that he’s your favourite. just like how your his favourite too!

his dick twitches in his sweats and he doesn’t even hesitate to take it out like he normally does, any guilt he’s ever felt for touching himself to the idea of you is completely out the window, he wonders what you’d think if you saw him now, your favourite pro-hero scrambling to get his dick out while he watches your stream… would you enjoy it? you did say you thought he was cute… maybe you would enjoy it.

the thought has him almost drooling. his dick is twitching in his hand as he moves his hand up and down his cock at a pace he’s never done before. he’s so pent up that he feels like a teenager again, quickly jacking himself off in search of a realise he knows is already approaching.

he’s moaning at this point, completely drowning out what your now saying.. something about your outfit? he doesn’t know but what he does know is that you looking absolutely breathtaking while saying it.

he wants to last he really does but he can’t help it, not when your looking into the camera like that, almost like your looking directly into his eyes, encouraging him.

he thinks about it for a second, he thinks about you whispering in his ear, telling him to cum for you.. urging him to finish himself off to the sound of your voice.

he bottoms out with a whine of your name, shooting thick ropes so far they hit his laptop screen, he’s panting, regaining his breathe as your voice starts to become more clear from the foggy state he was just in. he doesn’t feel guilty, not like he usually does, instead he feels a sense of pride.. or maybe contempt?

he clips the part of your stream when you talk about him, adding it to a file he has saved “my favorite streamer<3” he cleans the cum from his laptop as he fully calms down, head still a little spacey from the moment he just had. his phone is blowing up with notifications, hundreds of tweets tagging him in the clip that someone had already reposted, in just a few minutes it’s clear that people think positively of what you’ve said about him with many people agreeing and he feels that all familiar sense of pride.

you notice it too, you gasp at the sudden rise in viewers, thanking everyone for their support and ending the stream abruptly. normally he would feel a little disappointed but nothing can move him from his high right now. he waits a couple minutes in a state of awe, he can’t believe it. truly.

just as he begins to stand up, deciding to order a little victory take out for himself he gets a dm on twitter from an account he follows.

yn: hi chargebolt! i’m not sure if you’ve seen the clip circling around but i wanted to send you a quick message to apologise for any trouble it’s causing you or your team! if you need me to put out a statement i’m happy to do so, all the best!”

okay now he can’t believe it. you just dmed him, mere minutes after he’d came like a sexually frustrated virgin to your stream, he’s convinced he must be dreaming, but the once again growing tent in his pants proves that he’s not.

chargebolt: “don’t worry about it sweetheart, there’s much worse things that i could be dealing with today, i don’t think i’ll need you to put out a statement but i’d happily treat you to dinner instead?”

[northopalshore]

Hii💝💝

I'm curious, based of your experience, what is your first impression of each rising sign ??

♀Hello 🌝

Personal experiences with the rising signs

Note that these do not reflect the entirety of those with the rising signs mentioned, these are just my personal opinions of people I've met in real life with these placements.

๑ஓ Aries risings:

All the aries risings I've met up to this point are very direct. They look like they bite but really don't. Also, a lot of them kind of look & act like a dumbass (in the best way possible). The edge lords with no filter, no patience, no tolerance, but most of all no bullshit.

If they call you an ass that's a term of endearment lmao. Sarcasm is their love language, jokes and wit are their strong suits. They're the ones that will debate you just for fun (the guys especially).

Intense, passionate and lively. They always look mad for some reason but they swear they aren't. It's like their eyebrows are just angled that way naturally. I love being around them though. It's always refreshing.

First impression in a single sentence: Annoyingly charming.

๑ஓ Taurus risings:

Literally the most patient and chill people I've ever met. Super friendly, slightly dorky. Perhaps it's because I have Taurus in my 3rd house, but I'm usually at ease around them. Although, sometimes it's rather awkward when we run out of things to say lol.

I'd say they are the goofiest people I've ever met.

First impression in a single sentence: Fun but kind of awkward.

๑ஓ Gemini risings:

Very talkative. Very friendly. Always seem to have some sort of new gossip or topic to think about. They do tend to be a bit two-faced at times especially when it involves gossiping, however I've noticed that if they have sun or moon here they are rather passive aggressive. By that I mean they don't "split faces" or pretend to like something as much compared to those without it. How do I say it .. they have more integrity?

It's not like all the gossip is bad, sometimes they comment on the right stuff but just hide their distaste rather than facing any sort of confrontation.

Maybe it's because my 4th house is Gemini, but I sort of have a hit or miss relationship with Gemini Suns & risings. They tend to "mother" me quite often. Perhaps they remind me of some traits my mother has? Both good & bad. I tend to have a love hate relationship with them for some reason, but I don't dislike Gemini.

There's sometimes this codependent feel whenever I'm around them. But Gemini moons? Those are my bffs lmaoo.

First impression in a single sentence: Gretchen Wieners

๑ஓ Cancer risings:

The sweetest most genuine people I've ever met, regardless of their gender. They are always honest with what they're trying to communicate. (Although most cancer risings I know have either sun or moon in the first house)

Note: I'm realising now I know quite a handful of people with sun/moon in their 1st house.

First impression in a single sentence: "I can't believe people like you still exist."

๑ஓ Leo risings:

Omg. They are super friendly & very caring. They definitely are divas in their own right. Very expressive especially when it comes to their makeup or looks. They love accessories, and outfits that stand out.

I have a leo rising friend with moon & jupiter in her 1st house. Girl, lemme tell you she is extra. Contact lenses, head accessories, heels, the works. She's very confident of herself as well. Posting videos & photos of herself often.

There is a bit of a temper but it's not that prominent & doesn't really last long either. Still, I've never met a single Leo rising that is selfish. Self obsessed yes, but not without the heart to match.

First impression in a single sentence: The bigger the hair the bigger the heart.

๑ஓ Virgo risings:

Edge lord II. There are three types of virgo rising that I usually meet. The self deprecating, the self obsessed perfectionist & the one in the middle.

On one hand, they are a super deadpan, no bullshit typa person then on the other, they are extremely self focused and sensitive towards judgement but super judgemental themselves. Then on the otherr other hand, they couldn't care less about what you think.

Very analytical, as you'd expect from Virgos. I always notice them looking around or at me trying to evaluate their surroundings lol. I appreciate their sense of thoughtfulness.

If they're nice, they're really nice but if they're immature or have issues with confidence or control especially then it's very evident. Still, I don't dislike them by any means. Virgo is my descendant I guess I'm a sucker for an edge lord lmaoo. Maybe that's why I keep marrying Sebastian in Stardew Valley.

First impression in one sentence: Okay Sasha Fierce/ 'cause tonight will be the night that I will fall ferr yeww ovar againn— ���

๑ஓ Libra risings:

They are usually very sweet & open to communication. The ones I've met in real life are very intuitive, or at least are somewhat of a deep thinker. However, some of them tend to judge things based on looks quite fast lol. Other than that though, they usually have very good (fair) judgement & good values.

They are usually very pretty (conventionally attractive). With symmetrical oval shaped faces and a gorgeous resting face. They just look like an ad.

However, I have a housemate with a libra rising & aquarius degree and she's.. well you wouldn't expect her to be a Libra rising based on her looks. It's not like she's ugly, no. Her features just differ from what you'd expect from a Libra rising.

Also, she tends to be rather biased at times. Saying that one thing is bad, but she acts on something else which isn't "applaudable" by any means.

First impression in a single sentence: Clueless' Cher meets Karen Smith

๑ஓ Scorpio risings:

These are the asian baby girls or "goth chicks". Their favourite colour is usually black or purple. Normally I see them with tattoos or dyed hair. These are my people though, they are very inquisitive. A lot of the scorpio risings I know like to ask questions. Sometimes very.. strange or intense questions.

I love how genuine they are to themselves however, speaking their mind and expressing their feelings through their expressions. Some of them tend to be... Reclusive? They see themselves as this dark entity, either too smart for the others to comprehend or dismissive of what people have to say about them.

Although, I've never met a scorpio rising who isn't slightly obsessed with themselves lmao.

First impressions in a single sentence: I bet they listen to Mitski & Lana Del Rey.

๑ஓ Sagittarius risings:

I feel like people tend to sleep on how attractive Sagittarius risings are. Like, they're giving face, body, curves and everything in between. I have an older friend (27-28) and she's just so pretty. Especially when she smiles. Ngl but I did side eye her man a couple times during their wedding.

Usually very active outdoors as well.

Most of the guys I've met with this placement are rather religious. Like, the type to debate over it. The men are quite preachy (at least the ones I've met are). Most of them are reliable and fun to be around. Certified yappers.

First impression in a single sentence: The bigger the brain the hotter the person, I just hope they don't get too big now.

๑ஓ Capricorn risings:

Usually, the people I met with this placement give a pretty cold attitude towards the things around them. Their muscles on their faces are usually tense or there's this resting b face there. Sometimes they look like they're in a hurry to do something but you see them doing nothing in particular after lol.

They look like they've got shit to do & their lives together. Either that or they look rather unmotivated lmao. When you're talking for the first few times, there's usually no expression on their face. They'll just blink every now & then.

They are competitive too which is something you'd normally expect from an Aries more than anything.

First impression in a single sentence: "They are so practical."

๑ஓ Aquarius risings:

Weirdest mfs alive. Both male & female. Also tend to be the loudest (but differs depending on the degree it's in), though still charming in a way. They tend to be very chill and always down to hang with whoever. Usually always laughing at their own jokes or something they thought of randomly. They tend to be very intuitive, although it manifests differently with every aquarius rising I've met (whether their focus is on society or themselves). There's this tunnel vision aspect as well. They are genuine to a fault lol. The ones I've met personally are a little wild or quirky, always doing their own thing.

Very opinionated usually. Always trying to look at the big picture.

First impression in a single sentence: "I mean, if it works for you great."

๑ஓ Pisces risings:

They are a little erratic, a little strange and other worldly in a way. When you look at them, at times you'll notice that they aren't really there. Their interests are always different from the people around them.

Some of them tend to have this victim mentality to them, but I think it's just because most of the ones I met were when I was younger. They're probably just as immature as other kids at the time.

Very spiritual regardless if they follow any specific religion or not, I've never met a pisces rising (or w the degree) that isn't open to the idea of a higher power or karmic cycles. This seems to be true especially as they grow older. They also always have some sort of connection to music.

First impression in a single sentence: "I wonder if their mind is at Jupiter right now"

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

***entertainment purposes only, reader discretion is advised***

Hope this was entertaining ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ◜⁠✧

@northopalshore

[peeweekey]

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

[awritesthings1]

Good Taste

Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife reader

Summary: You get made fun of for wearing your sapphire necklace to the foundation dinner. Tommy always finds a way to make things better.

Warnings: swearing, implied smut.

ao3 link

“She was making fun of me!”

“Yeah? And when has that ever bothered you before, my darling?”

“Since all the bloody country wives started debating whether my jewelry was in fashion or not, Tommy,” you huffed at your husband, who was having no luck pinching away the creases between his eyebrows.

Tommy sighed deeply, not really bothered to continue the conversation but irked because the wives down the lane had gotten under your skin, and if you were unhappy, then he was unhappy. He fueled his throbbing head with a cigarette, chain-smoking them back-to-back while he hunched over on the settee.

You were sitting at the vanity, fingers tangled hopelessly at the stubborn latch of your necklace that just wouldn’t let, when you saw how Tommy was beginning to fold in on himself. Guilt consumed you immediately. It wasn’t that you actually cared all that much about what people said, but when you were around Tommy, your guard slipped, and all the things that made you tick during the day would come cluttering out of your mouth like an unwanted clash of symbols and noise. Tommy would sit there and listen, hum, nod, and completely detach himself from the world.

You ran each other around like clockwork. He leaned back, you forward. Lust swelled in his eyes, concern in yours, a tug at your hip, and a gasp from your throat. You smiled sympathetically, apologetically. He kept quiet, forgivingly holding your gaze, until a defeated sigh broke the tension, and you both understood how silly the whole ordeal was. Here was Thomas Shelby, a man of great power, slumped against the settee, utterly exhausted.

“Darling, this is fucking Birmingham. Good taste is for people that can’t afford sapphires.”

That brought a smirk to your lips.

“Oh?” You muse, watching him through your vanity mirror.

Tommy huffs, but it’s more out of amusement than agitation. The cigarette between his lips twitches as a smile graces his face. He hums in affirmation.

You give up on trying to unlatch the sapphire necklace around your neck. You’re far too distracted by the way Tommy leans back on the settee like he knows it’s his damn right, spreading his legs, chain-smoking cigarettes, and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling. He’s completely in the wrong if he thinks you are going to keep your hands tangled up in a necklace when they would be much more useful somewhere else…

When your chair screeches against the wood as you push it back to stand, his head snaps to attention. He has a faraway look to his eye, haunted even, but he swallows when you sink to your knees between his legs, and something else begins to swell other than his pupils.

You run your hands up his knees to his thighs and back again.

“I know it’s stupid. They just get under my skin sometimes,” you resign.

He clears his throat and reaches past your head to set his cigarette on the ash tray. He stays there, bent forward, a breath apart, and begins caressing your face with the back of his fingers. A faint smile softens his features and warms his skin.

You laugh because it really is ridiculous. For marrying someone who spends most of their life buried in their head, you sure have picked up on his tendencies.

“Do you think I’m becoming obsessed?”

He doesn’t even try to hide his amusement. “No.”

You were; he was just treading carefully. Because while he wandered off to speak to god knows who at the foundation dinner, your feathers were being ruffled by stuck-up old women who were too busy being stuck up to notice their husbands’ lingering eyes. However, being able to defend your vanity was another thing compared to dealing with Shelby Company Limited business. And if it came to surviving passive aggressive remarks from old women or being led into another room to talk with Mr. Thomas Shelby, head of the Peaky Blinders, you would sneer rudely at Margaret any day.

You voice the thought at Tommy, “I take it your night wasn’t as successful as mine?”

He exhales and raises his eyebrows playfully, more or less confirming your suspicions.

“And should I ask you about it like a good wife?”

He hums, “no.”

He’s so entranced in running his fingers up and down your jaw, around your chin, and thumbing your lips that you’ll just have to forgive him later.

You pull a face. You’re not mad at him. Far from it. Those fingers of his dancing across your face are your weakness.

“You’re not listening to me.” You lean in closer.

“Yes, I am,” he smiles.

You try to pull back in faux skepticism, but with his hand holding your face so close to his,

“Where are you going, eh?” Tommy leans forward to steal a kiss, and he feels your laughter against his lips, a pleasant sensation.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby,” you jest.

Together, you fall back onto the settee with you astride his lap. Your hair falls over his face like a curtain, keeping him safe from the outside world. He doesn’t want to move; no, he will stay here for the next couple of months, transfixed inside this moment. The gun tucked away in the holster beneath his arm feels less heavy, and the clock ticking above his head slows. He can breathe. He can gingerly stroke your jaw with his thumb in the way you adore. So he does, and the shuttering thoughts that occupy so much of his head stutter in fear because they know they come second to you.

Then there’s that pretty sapphire necklace hanging from your neck. The one that got you both in this position in the first place. Those fucking people, eh? Those fucking people with their fancy palaces and prim and proper manners judging you, his wife, refusing you, his wife? That got him going.

You can tell he is in his head by the way his eyes linger on your sapphire necklace. He looks irked.

“What’s wrong, Tommy?”

He shakes his head lazily.

“Speak to me, love,” you insist.

Fuck em. Fuck the bastards that made his wife feel unworthy. They wouldn’t know taste if it hit them like a fucking train. He won’t let them bring her down.

Tommy clears his throat. “I’m sorry for being in my head, Mrs. Shelby.”

His apology is soothed into your skin with a gentle brush of his thumb at the end of your chin. He tilts it down to lay a kiss on the corner of your mouth. He always knows how to make you smile.

You press more of your weight into him and deepen the kiss, to which he grunts. It stirs a honey warmth in your stomach.

As for Tommy, the need to be closer to you is suffocating; he’d rather just lock you both in this room and throw away the key. He’d rather the stifling walls close in on you both until he can’t even open his lungs, and even then, it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to be in your skin, in your thoughts, but most importantly, right now, in your underwear.

It’s your goddamn nails clawing at his scalp that do it for him. It winds him up like a fucking pocket watch, boils his blood like good whiskey, and fuels the fires.

He urges your name in warning because he’s so strung up he might just rip the seams of your pretty dress, and you make the mistake of swallowing his plea with a huff and a tangle of tongues.

“The necklace, Thomas,” you gasp.

It would really be a pity if he accidentally broke it in the rush to remove your dress. It slows him down momentarily removing it, and his fingers can’t quite function being away from your skin but he knows ever since he gifted it to you, there’s been nothing you loved more. When the latch finally unclasps, he parts from your lips to gently lower it to the coffee table where it remains unscathed for the rest of the night. The same couldn’t be said about your dress.

-

Taglist: (i was drunk when I posted this so I forgot to add it lol).

@maliceofwonderland @fairytale07 @goblinjnr @ilovepeoplesdads @multidimensionalslut @blogforficslol @elenavampire21

[plasticferal]

fuck the fight out | matt sturniolo.

warnings: slight dom!matt, fem!reader, swearing, mentions of an argument and explicit sexual content.

authors note: i wrote this one quickly, no one asked for it, but i thrive off angst. enjoy!

he’s been giving you the silent treatment the entire night, the argument you had earlier still lingering in the air, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

you don’t even remember what it was about, and quite honestly, you were over it. matt on the other hand, was still holding onto the bitterness.

he saunters into the bedroom, his face furrowed and shoulders tense. you watch from your side of the bed, adjusting the covers over your body as you follow him with your eyes. he doesn’t even look at you before he pulls his hoodie over this head, kicks off his ugg slippers, and drops onto the bed.

he sits up against the headboard, so close to the edge of the mattress. usually, he’s practically on top of you the second he gets into bed. you frown, observing him pull his phone out and scroll through whatever app was currently open.

he just looks so content, yet frustrated. it’s weirdly attractive. you know he’ll come around eventually, but he needs to cool off. he’s biting his tongue. you know matt could continue the argument to rest his case, bring something back up that he didn’t like, but he’s choosing not to.

it never usually takes long before he’s crawling back to you with his tail between his legs, apologising, needing your touch. tonight was different. he wasn’t budging.

you shift toward his body until your shoulders are touching, draping your leg over his waist. you rest your hand on his thigh over his sweatpants, and matt sighs.

you lean closer, kissing under his ear, his sharp jawline contrasting your soft lips. he nudges his head to the side, not breaking eye contact with his screen.

“i’m not in the mood,” his voice is low, almost so gentle that if you weren’t so close, you wouldn’t be able to hear him.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask, your fingers toying with the waistband of his pants.

he doesn’t respond, he just grabs your hand and drops it onto the quilt, rejecting your advances. not that you would ever do something to make him uncomfortable, but generally speaking, all of your heated debates in the past have ended in great sex. this move coming from a man who is nothing but utterly obsessed with you, you thought would make you upset, hurt even, but it’s just left you feeling like you needed to fight for it harder. want him more.

“that’s okay,” you respond, pulling away. you fling the sheets off of your body, revealing your lace underwear. it’s peaking underneath matt’s t-shirt that you have covering the top half of your body. you’re not wearing a bra, so the cold air hardens your nipples prominently against the white material.

you feel his eyes on you briefly, trying to maintain the fact he’s not looking at you, but it becomes difficult when you part your legs and shift your hips upward. you position yourself in the middle of the bed, head comfortable on a pillow and arm draping inbetween your legs.

“y/n, what are you doing?” he sounds annoyed and tired in his tone, knowing your gesture is a scream for attention.

“you might not be in the mood, but i am,” your eyes close softly, neck tilting back every so slightly and a soft moan parting your lips the second your cold fingers slide between your heat and under the lace.

your mouth parts open, and even though you can’t see, you know matts’ eyes are now glued on you. you roll into the palm of your hand, middle and ring finger rubbing gentle, yet desperate circles around your clit.

“fuck,” you hear matt exhale. you feel the weight of the mattress shift dramatically as he gets up, and you assume he’s leaving the room in a huff.

instead, you feel a tight grip on your ankles, dragging you to the edge of the bed. you gasp and your hands have to choice but to lay by the sides of your head.

you support yourself on your elbows and see him brush a hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek. he slips his thumbs into his sweats and begins to shuffle them down to his ankles, kicking them off.

“matt-” you try to hide your smirk, watching him grow harder in his boxers.

“don’t speak,” he demands, beginning to crawl over you. his much bigger, more coarse hands pin your wrists where they are. his necklace dangles over your face, and his face leans closer so his shaggy hair is dancing across your skin.

“and don’t be a brat,” before grazing his teeth over your neck, sucking lightly, then letting go. he pushes his hips into you, forcing your legs either side of his figure, and you naturally wrap around him. your heels dig into his lower back.

you feel his dick against your heat, as he presses closer to you. he hasn’t even taken his boxers off, but knowing he’s twitching against you has you needing him more.

“ugh, please matty” you beg, and on any other day he’d give you what you want. tonight you’d have to fight for it.

he pulls away from your neck, looking you in the eyes. supporting himself hovering above you with one arm he uses his other hand to grab your jaw, squeezing lightly, surrounding your face in his grip.

“keep running that mouth. i’ll find another use for it,” his tone is so deep, you lose your train of thought.

you nod, feeling him give your face a small squeeze before pulling you to his mouth. he kisses you gently, contrasting his next moves as he runs his open palm down your neck, to your chest, and finally squeezing your breast hard.

“take it off,” he orders, his voice isn’t stern, but it’s direct. he never sounds argumentative in his tone as much as he sounds impatient. you do as he asks, taking your shirt off, exposing your now half naked body, ready for him.

he moves his face down to your chest, taking your nipple between his teeth, then sucking hard. he hums, kissing around your breast, biting a mark into your skin and you throw your head back again, taking a hand to his hair and running your fingers through which messes it up.

he follows down your body, past your belly button, finally to where you desire him the most.

before you get any sensation, or a touch from him, he slides a hand behind your back and flips you over, so you’re straddling him as he lays on the bed.

he nods toward where your crotches meet, and you look down, following his eye movements.

“take them off,” he orders again. you start to slip your fingers through the waist of your panties, but he stops you.

“not yours, mine. you can wait.” he’s so nonchalant with his words you’re almost stunned, and you want to speak back. you’ve already tested him once tonight, so following your better judgment you oblige.

you shuffle down his thighs, pulling his boxers off and letting his cock spring out. you don’t need to take any further instructions before you’re leaning over him, wrapping a hand around his shaft and looking up at him through your eyelashes while you spit on his tip.

he instantly grips for your hair, wrapping it around his knuckles. you open your mouth and puff your cheeks to take him down your throat. you feel him brush past your tongue and you swirl around, tasting the pre-cum before sucking back up, taking him, and repeat.

you gag slightly, really trying to satisfy him, and focus on your breaths. you hum, pulling up to catch your breath and lick up his shaft, twisting your wrist up and down his cock. he watches you, trying to not flutter his eyes closed. he bites his lip, making a small grunt in his throat.

“ngh, fuck- take it all, sweetheart. i know you can” and he squeezes your hair in his fist, guiding you back to his dick. you continue to work him with your mouth, tears in your eyes the further and further you tempt the back of your throat with.

he tugs on your hair to tell you to come up, and you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist.

matt plants his hands on the backsides of your thighs and pulls you back up so your cunt is hovering over his dick. he doesn’t pull your underwear off, he just moves them to the side. his arm reaches out past the bed, tapping around his bedside table drawer to pull a condom.

you’re so impatient, and throbbing as you’ve already started on yourself, that you subtly try to slide your fingers over your clit again.

matt tears the packet open, and tilts up, seeing you play with yourself.

“y’gonna finish yourself off?” he teases, but he’s serious. you almost feel guilty that you’re thinking so selfishly about getting off, but he makes you so hot and heated that you actually can’t control yourself.

“no, i wanna ride you,” you respond, taking the condom from his hands and rolling it on for him.

“you’re gonna ride my dick but you’re not gonna cum until i say so, got it?” he taps your thigh telling you lift yourself up, using his right hand to run his dick through your folds, cantering your entrance and you’re left waiting for his permission.

you nod, letting him know you understand. finally, he thrusts into you, and you happily sink down, feeling him fill you up. you both let out a low hum, the contact long overdue, and your legs spreading further to allow yourself to slide your knees up and down on the bed, bouncing as rhythmically as you can.

matts fingertips dig into your legs, fixated on your movements.

“you feel so good,” you cry out, hands cupping your breasts as you continue to slap your skin together, the sound hitting the walls and filling the room.

“grind baby,” you hear him breathe out, and you quickly wave your hips in an almost literal cowgirl movement. he moans, and you lean back with your hands on his shins, needing to balance yourself.

he never once slides out of you, helping you by pushing his hips up and timing every single push. your stomach buzzes and you clench tighter, knowing the more you squeeze the closer you are.

“matt i’m- i’m gonna cum,” you moan, and he clings his hands onto your hips.

“keep going,” he ignores your plea, and raises his hips into you even harder. he uses one of his hands to rub your clit, and you shut your eyes so fast that you’re dizzy.

“fuck matt, please, i-, i need-” you hear his hitched breaths and his chest is rising and falling underneath you.

“let go, sweetheart” he exhales to your relief, and you gasp feeling his climax in you. your core heating up and your stomach knotting so hard that you’re sealing your screams, biting your lip with a shake in your breaths.

his body relaxes, and you slowly guide yourself off of him. he pulls the rubber off and tosses it into the bin next to him, but keeps his free hand on your rib cage, tucking you into the side of his body as you roll over next to him.

you cuddle into his side, hand on his glistening chest, and once again, hiking your leg over his torso.

he puts his arm around your shoulder, letting your warm bodies be as close as they can be while you calm down. it’s quiet for a moment, and he sighs continently.

“what were we fighting about again?” he looks down at you, even though you’re peacefully resting into his shoulder. you laugh against his skin, and slap his chest playfully.

“i don’t know, but we should do it again.”

[021reid]

Please ? | Spencer Reid

summary: reader wants spencer to take her virginity.

CW: inexperienced!reader , shy-ish reader , reader gets came on , 18+ (if i’m missing anything lmk)

word count: 860 words

you and spencer have been dating for 4 months now. the last four months have been filled with date nights every sunday (when he wasn’t away) and endless flirting and teasing no matter what was happening around you guys.

but you were craving more.

you and spencer have had heated makeouts and even a little dry humping every now and then but nothing ever came out of it.

so now here you were sitting on spencer’s bed with a nervous look on your face.

“spence..can we talk?” you start regretting your words when you see him sit up with a look of concern and fear on his face.

“did i do something wrong honey?” it’s almost as if you can hear the gears shifting in his mind and you quickly shake your head to make them shut up.

“no i just…why won’t you have sex with me?” you notice the deep breath he takes and relief in his eyes.

“are you ready for sex?” it was no secret to spencer that you were inexperienced and you probably would run away if he even tried to unbutton your pants.

“i think? i don’t know i’m just really horny and i can’t keep cumming from just your thighs.” a smile appears on his face and he grabs your waist sitting you on his lap and whispering in your ear.

“well how about we fix that then baby?” you hold back a whimper and pull him in for a kiss, slowly moving back and fourth on his lap.

“can i take these off?” he puts a finger on the waistband of your shorts and you nod your head. he unbuttons your pants and slides them off you with a little of your help.

he can’t tear his eyes away from your white lacy panties with small bows on the sides.

“you’re so beautiful baby” he rubs your cunt through your panties and you swear you could cum from just that alone.

“fuck..spence i need more.” you kiss him again this time tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. you move down to his pants and unbutton them, pausing when you feel his print.

spencer slides down his pants more and takes out his cock.

your jaw dropped.

he had to be atleast 8 and a half inches and you were even debating that.

“can that fit in me?” you say still shocked and stunned by his size.

“we can make it fit honey.” he tugs at your shirt and you shake your head. your not ready to be fully naked yet and he understands.

“lay down for me baby.” you move to the other side of his bed and rest your head on the nearest pillow. he kisses your thighs and makes his way up to your cunt, kissing all around it only making you grow wetter and wetter.

“please spence i can’t wait anymore.” he laughs at your eagerness and pulls down your panties. he stares at you in awe which makes you close your legs and push him slightly.

“stop staring at me like that..” he kisses your cheek and pulls your panties off.

“you’re so pretty sweetheart. every part of you.” he rubs your heat and you moan with every movement. he inserts his pointer finger and curls it which causes you to moan and arch your back.

“fuck..put another one in please.” he inserts his middle finger and waits for you to calm down before he starts moving them both at a slow pace. you’re a moaning mess and you’ve never wanted to come so bad.

“fuck if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” he laughs and takes out his fingers which causes you to pout.

“i don’t want you to come yet baby” he reaches over for a condom and puts it on.

“tell me if you wanna stop okay baby?” you nod and moan when you feel him rub his tip over your heat.

“fuck please just put it in.” he slowly inserts every inch into you moaning between each inch just from how warm your heat is. all that fills the room is your heavy breathing.

once he bottoms out he starts to move slowly. you moan with every thrust and your hands find their way to his long curly hair slightly tugging at it.

“go faster please, i can handle it.” his movements speed up and you can feel your orgasm approaching. the sounds of his quiet whimpers and your skin slapping against eachother becomes louder with every thrust.

“i’m so close y/n” his legs start to shake under you and his movements get faster causing you to let out a loud moan and your back to arch off the bed as your orgasm hits you.

not long after you feel spencer’s cock twitch inside you and his movements start to slow.

you both sit there for about 10 minutes trying to catch your breath.

“that was really good” you say, slurring your words. he smiles and pulls out of you slowly, handing you a bottle of water from the nightstand.

“i love you so much y/n.” he pampers your face in kisses and you both giggle until you both fall asleep, happy and inlove.

i’m not good at writing smut so tell me how it is 🌚 don’t forget to check out my masterlist !

[sans-enjoyer]

Inanimate Insanity Episode 16 Spoilers!!!!

its been like, two days since episode 16, and people are already arguing about Mephone's age. He is a child, and this didnt come out of nowhere guys, he's always BEEN a child:

^post from 2018!! 5 YEARS ago!

^Brian reposting art (amazing art btw<3) where Mephone is described as a CHILD and drawing in a childish way.

^Brian saying that Mephone is so young he doesn't even know how to SPELL.

Now; heres some stuff ive been hearing in argument against him being a child.

"Cobs is infantilizing him." I agree with this to a certain extent, he is acting like Mephone is a child who cant comprehend anything like an abusive parent. but thats where it stops. Children can ALSO be infantlized! But aside from that, Cobs even says; "I forgot how young you are!" Parents don't say that to their adult children, because it makes no sense unless Mephone is a child.

Secondly, why would Brian and Justin be doing the same thing? They say he's young!

"He has an adult voice." Robots don't hit puberty! This means nothing. Unless youre saying that the creators implied hes an adult because hes voiced by an adult, well i'll have to refer you to the images above.

"He hosts an entire show." Arguably not very well, also again, he's a robot, and also, theyre on an island! its not like you need a permit to film on a random island in god knows where. Any child can "host" a show if they have enough determination, general knowledge of how they work, and equipment, and would you know it Mephone has all three! He knows how they work because he watched them in meeple, and he can generate any equipment he needs.

"He's a robot, he doesn't have an age." True..? sort of...? But the thing is, being legally defined as a child is based off your mental capacity. Children arent as mentally/emotionally intelligent as grown adults, because they don't have the life experience nor the capacity to be. Mephone barely has ANY life experience, he grew up in Meeple, and then started the show immediately after leaving. And obviously, in Inanimate Insanity (and all object shows), robots are almost always sentient beings, unlike real life.

"He's much more mature than a child, especially one that couldn't spell." Debatable! First of all, he thinks things like 'going to jail for one day' and 'the calm down corner' are terrible punishments, like children. If you tell a child to go sit on the stairs for 5 minutes and frame it as a punishment, they will take it as serious as anything else. Secondly, he literally decided to make a random species of bat.. things? fight to the death because they ate his four month old ice cream. No mature person would do that... Thirdly, abused children ACT more mature than others because they HAVE to be. Abused children are not ALLOWED to act like children. They have to be mature for themselves because who else is going to be? Who else is going to take care of you when your parent doesn't? But that doesn't mean they arent still a child.

So now we tread into questionable territory. Is it okay to deny the idea that he is a child at all costs, just so you can ship him or sexualize him? There is really no other reason why you would deny that he is a child.

Now obviously; lets not harass anyone who has drawn ship art of him or sexualized him in the past. This stuff was not commonly known, most people thought he was an adult. But if you look deeper, he isn't.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, if anyone reads this far (￣^￣)ゞI know I usually only post art, but this is an important topic to me as i am very hyperfixated on Mephone4 i swear i can't control it guys!!

Feel free to make any counter points, im open to discussion, but i am also very set on this opinion. Have a good day everyone!!☆

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

~

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[cuteselle]

⊱ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱.

𝓢 — enha maknae line saying you remind them of their ex in an argument

maknae line 𖹭 fem reader , angst , cussing , breakup in riki , u don't let it slide w jungwon , not proofread — 991 wc

ac 𖧷 .. when fluff comes yk i gotta double it w angst! this isn't that good because i haven't written it in months.. enjoy!

YANG JUNGWON ᰋ you and jungwon had been bickering all evening, and the tension in the room was thick. it felt like every little thing was setting the other off, and you were both getting more and more frustrated by the minute. as the argument escalated, jungwon's frustration finally boiled over. "you've been ditching our dates for two weeks, this is the first time i've seen you!" you yelled, not minding the fact that everyone else was only upstairs.

“oh my god yn, you're acting like my ex can you calm down?” he snapped, his words cutting deep. your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, and you felt a rush of anger and hurt. "i can't believe you just said that," you shot back, your voice shaking with emotion. "i'm not going to stand here and take that kind of disrespect."

jungwon looked taken aback by your reaction, but he didn't back down. "well, maybe if you weren't acting like her, i wouldn't have said it," he retorted, his voice defensive. you felt your anger rising, and you knew you needed to get some space before things got even worse. that's when jake had stepped down, listening to the argument and debating when to step in.

"i need you to leave," you said firmly, trying to keep your voice steady. jungwon looked at you in surprise, but he didn't argue. he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, but before he left, he turned back to you. "yeah okay," he said, his voice softening slightly. "we can talk about this when we've both had a chance to cool off."

you didn't respond as he walked out the door, and you heard the click of the lock as he left and slammed the door. you fell to your knees, feeling exhausted and drained from the argument. everyone quickly rushing downstairs to your side, “aish, don't cry yn.. i'm sure he'll come around, yeah?”

KIM SUNOO ᰋ “really, sunoo? it's not even that big of a deal, he's my friend.” you continued, running your hands through your hair. you've known gyuvin longer than sunoo, so why would be be so mad that you want to hang with your friend every now and then?

“do you not see the way he looks at you? it pisses me off,” he started, you and sunoo had been arguing for at least an hour, and you could feel the tension building between you. you were both getting more and more frustrated, and it felt like every word was just adding fuel to the fire. "you're acting like giselle, she always said he was just a friend." he snapped, his voice filled with frustration.

your heart sank at his words, and you felt a wave of hurt wash over you. giselle was sunoo's ex, and he had always spoken of her in negative terms. to hear him compare you to her was like a knife to the heart. “how could you say that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "you know how much it hurts me to be compared to her.”

sunoo looked away, his jaw clenched. "i'm sorry, my love" he muttered. "i didn't mean it, i swear." but the damage had already been done. you could feel yourself starting to overthink, wondering if sunoo still had feelings for giselle, or if he thought you were just as bad as she was. you knew you needed some space to clear your head.

"i think i need some time alone," you said, your voice still shaking with emotion. "i'm going to go for a walk." you grabbed your jacket and walked out the door, not looking back as you headed down the street. you didn't know how long you would be gone, but you knew you needed to sort through your thoughts before you could face sunoo again.

NISHIMURA RIKI ᰋ you and ni-ki had been arguing for what felt like hours. it had started out as a small disagreement about household chores, but it had quickly spiraled out of control. you were both tired from a long day at work, and your tempers were short. you felt like you were doing more than your fair share of the chores, while ni-ki felt like you were nitpicking and being overly critical.

the more you tried to explain your perspective, the more defensive ni-ki became, and before long, you were both shouting at each other. you knew that this wasn't productive, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from engaging in the argument. “ni-ki it isn't that hard to just clean up around the house, i get you're busy but sometimes you're doing nothing!”

"you're acting just like my ex, can you quit it?" he spat, his words cutting deep. “i clean around, i tell you i'll do things later.” he continued on this rant, but you were still stuck on one thing. you? acting like his ex? he must have just hated you then cause he hated his ex with his heart. your heart sank at his words, and you felt like you had been punched in the gut. you knew how much ni-ki had been hurt by his past relationship, and to hear him compare you to his ex was the ultimate blow.

"if i'm such a terrible girlfriend, then maybe we should just break up," you cut him off, your voice trembling with emotion. "if that's how you feel, then there's no point in continuing this relationship.” you turned around to get your bag, ni-ki's eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately tried to backtrack.

"baby, i didn't mean it like that," he stammered, trying to apologize. "i was just upset, i didn't mean to hurt you.” you scoffed, opening the door to what was your shared apartment. “well you did, i won't be a burden to you anymore.” you took off the promise ring he gave you, and his eyes swelled with tears. “bye riki.”

© copyrighted by cuteselle. do not repost, ask to translate. comments and reblogs appreciated !