#i was mad they weren't locked down

[ssaalexblake]

You know what Actually would have solved this anniversary casting nonsense?? Them Not cutting 13's episode count, letting her have the 60'th special/not doing one/exiting her on/after it and then bringing in the next one afterwards.

Better still would have been the BBC not caring So much about this anniversary event being on schedule over cast and crew safety that they forced dw back into production as the entire country was just being put back into lockdown, one that saw a few months of the very worst of covid damage and death tolls here, and instead just choosing to wait till it was safer for them all and not caring first and foremost about an episode milestone most fans wouldn't even know about unless you told them.

Flux would not have been cut down then, because they'd not have been scrambling to put out episodes in time while maintaining safety for this actually not necessary anniversary event to happen on schedule, 13's last season would not have had to have been cut to pieces, and all that would have happened was we'd have had to wait a little longer for s13 to air. Then it could have flowed naturally at everybody's normal pace.

Then none of this casting bs would be an issue, and the new doctor wouldn't be starting on an anniversary year, meaning no fears of being overshadowed by guest actors and automatically making everything less chaotic and ridiculous.

Let's be honest here, the root of this issue that started all of this crap Is the BBC caring more about the 60th and their centennial episodes than anything else, including the safety of their employees. Which is inherently wrong and messed up.

Them letting it go from the get go and prioritising safety would have meant all of this never happened to start with. They could even have celebrated at 61 instead and said 'sorry, but cast and crew safety is our paramount concern, it will be late but we will still give you a special'.

A solid 85% of viewers would have No idea it was even a year late if they weren't told, lbr. We're not all nerds on the internet.

This Entire thing has been a crap show from the get go. And if execs cared more about their employees than the money they stand to make out of a super special episode then a great majority of questionable decisions never would have been made.

I have No idea if the BBC was pushing this, or if Disney was doing it BTS as they wanted their stake asap, but either way. I am not impressed.

[ed-nygma]

Moms acting like the victim after you tell them that you will not thank them for "tidying up" your room

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[zephyrchama]

"It's a little hard to walk like this."

You knew this situation was less than ideal for Beelzebub, but you needed him to put up with it.

That's why you assured him, "I'll move with you. Just act normal."

Beelzebub thought that was easier said than done with you crouched under him. He stood in place while you held on to his lower thighs, feet planted next to his and head held low. You had a plan.

Lucifer was mad. You knew he was going to start nagging and never let go when he eventually got a hold of you. Wandering around in the House of Lamentation by yourself was dangerous for now, so you needed a shield. Someone who could hide you from another demon's wrath. Who better than Beelzebub? He's big. He's kind to you. He will protect you.

This wasn't exactly what Beelzebub had in mind when he said he wanted to protect you. This wasn't the danger he expected nor the method of protection he came up with. You intended to cling to Beelzebub with your hands just above his knee and your legs locked around his calves while in motion, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

He took three large steps forward, lumbering ahead with an awkwardly slow and comically exaggerated gait. You were really channeling the spirit of humanity's tree climbing ancestors.

Beelzebub was unsure about the whole situation and paused. "I don't think this is going to work."

"Just keep taking big steps like that," you instructed. "I know this will work. I can feel it."

All Beelzebub could feel was your body flush against him and the heat spreading across his face. Endless gluttony was the least of his worries. He kept wringing his hands and cracking his knuckles, even after they stopped audibly cracking. A fidget toy would have come in handy.

"What are you doing?"

That deep, condescending tone could only belong to one prideful demon. You let out an "eep!" of surprise and tightened your grip in hopes Beelzebub would abscond the two of you to safety.

"Lucifer, hi." Beelzebub was far too polite at times to be a demon. You bopped your head repeatedly against his leg in a universal sign meaning "get me out of here! Run!" But the Avatar of Gluttony only created more distance between his legs. He stood in place like an inflexible kid trying to do a split and tried not to think about where you were.

You hesitated to look up. Lucifer looked like he ate a bowl of rocks for breakfast that morning and washed it down with cold medicine. That is to say, he was not happy.

"Beel," he started. "I'm not in the mood for games. Either you join us for what is going to be a productive discipline session, or you hand them over. Now."

A ring of sweat began to drip down Beelzebub's brow. He did say he would protect you, but also, he had plans to get a new jersey with insulated mesh while they were on sale. It was the last day of the sale. He wanted that shirt. He didn't want to linger on the way you were touching him or how you'd willingly let him take you anywhere he desired. You clung tighter and his brain sprinted a hundred miles a minute.

"I have to leave now," he admitted. It was a good thing the two of you weren't able to make eye contact.

"Nooooo!" You bopped your head against him again, this time in despair. Beelzebub lifted his leg with you on it, like he was offering the sacrificial lamb for slaughter. All he had to say about it was a quiet, almost inaudible "sorry."

Lucifer praised his little brother, "you made a wise decision." You felt his gloved hands hook under your shoulders and sensed malice at your back but you refused to go without a fight.

It was a short fight. The slippery Avatar of Pride hit all your ticklish points, ones you didn't even know existed. All it took was one instance of weakness, a reflexive giggle, and within seconds you were in his hold. Lucifer dangled you at arm's length like a wet pet. You pouted.

Beelzebub's quiet creep out of the room didn't go unnoticed, but you had a bigger problem now.

"You come up with the most ridiculous ideas," Lucifer chided. The first of many nags. "You should know by now it's futile. You're coming with me."

His clutch on you shifted to a more secure hold against his chest. It made writhing around and trying to run away pointless, so you challenged him with more head attacks. All this light head shaking was making you dizzy, but you were a fighter.

"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed.

Your gaze snapped up. You smiled and made an innocent yet logical suggestion. "Let me go?"

"No."

Into the locked office with Lucifer you went.

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: Reconciliation

Warning: Still a bit angst-y. no teeth-rotting fluff. lots of drama.

Author's note: Please read "Lnds: Fighting with them" first before reading this one.

Zayne:

Well, most of the problems have been resolved already when you have heart-to-heart talks with him in his office. Although it was inevitable that you would shed a tear of frustration, Zayne would never let you go to sleep with a heavy heart.

Despite being mentally exhausted from your work and your fight, his genuine kindness will never flicker, especially towards you. When he gets home, his first instinct is to find you and check on your state—sure, you've resolved the issue through the conversation. Still, he isn't naive to think that lingering afterthoughts of the fight won't weigh your heart down.

Zayne loves you, and albeit he can't say it directly, he'd show it to you instead.

When he finds you, you are most likely lost in your thoughts, reflecting or distracting yourself in one way or another, but it will almost always be the same scenario: you will be sitting out in the garden in your nightwear.

Zayne would place his bag down and head to the kitchen to brew your favorite warm drink, doubling the amount of sweetened cocoa powder. It's not healthy to drink, but it was okay once in a while. You could hear the clinking of the teaspoon hitting the mug, and shortly after, Zayne was behind you, draping a knitted shawl over your shoulders.

He would hand you the drink and simply sit beside you in silence. He wasn't on his phone and dared not speak, letting only the chilly air envelop you both.

It wasn't awkward; there was no tension. Just silence.

And a little warmth as his hands clasped onto yours, his thumb grazing your palm.

That moment made you think that whatever you fought about felt trivial and tiny.

"I'm sorry for getting mad," you tell him lightly. "Thank you for the drink."

Zayne had said his sorries, and he didn't really need to hear one from you, but nonetheless, you were heard. He felt your head rest on his shoulders, and together, you basked under the full moon.

Xavier:

Xavier was looking for you. He went to the office and to that small hidden field, searching for an inkling of your presence. He didn't know what he would do once he managed to find you, but it was the last thought in his mind.

You weren't in your apartment, and it had already been 24 hours. Xavier waited patiently in silence, reflecting on your fight. A phantom of pain from you slapping him amplified the fear in your face, sending an ache through his heart.

He shouldn't have done that. He didn't know why. You never had the habit of running away during a fight, so he was unsure why he was unconsciously pressing you against the wall. Xavier is more than aware that his strength is incomparable to yours. You would, quite frankly, stand no chance if he used force, but that was precisely the point; he had no reason to use it.

He wanted to apologize to you, and he wanted you to reprimand him. He could take another hit from you, but what he can never accept is seeing that frightened, cornered look on your face.

You arrived pretty late into the night, and he was still there on your sofa, patiently waiting for you, almost like a little puppy. You spared him a few seconds of your glance but turned away soon after, taking off your coat, dropping your bag, and heading to the bedroom to speak.

You lay in your bed, facing away from the door because you knew too well that he would come in after you. Even then, you didn't lock the door. Xavier looked more than dejected when you didn't speak to him. You kept your position and closed your eyes shut.

Quietly, the silver-haired man made his way to your bedroom, peeking before carefully entering and lying beside you. Lightly, he clutched onto the hem of your shirt. "I want to apologize," his voice cracked a little, almost making it seem he was on the verge of tears.

"I don't like it when you corner me," you told him.

He scooted closer. "I know, I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise."

"I don't like it when you don't listen to my side of the story."

"I'll listen to your side next time," Xavier said, his voice faint yet closer.

It was the perfect time to let go of your anger. You never really talked about his habit when you fight, and you were partly at fault for tolerating it, hoping he would just listen one day. But how would Xavier change something when he didn't know how it affected you so much?

You rolled over to finally face him, his eyes going wide. You stroked his cheek, the side which you slapped the day before. "I shouldn't have slapped you. I'm sorry." Luckily, you didn't hit him too hard; otherwise, the ring on your finger would've cut his face.

Relieved that you had forgiven him, Xavier grabbed the hand that stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes and basked in your warmth. "Don't be. I scared you, and I deserved that." It was a quiet moment for you. Neither of you really knew what you had to say to each other. All was forgiven, and what awaits is simply the both of you fulfilling the end of your promises.

To fill in the silence, Xavier scooted closer and closer, kissing the exposed part of your collarbone shortly after, burying his face in your chest. You smell like coffee, he thought, but rather than stir him awake, it lulled him to sleep.

It didn't take long for him to snooze off to dreamland; after all, he waited for you for a day, not once sleeping in the hopes that he could see you face to face.

Rafayel:

In this relationship, you're almost always the one who needs to go after him, coddle him like an infant, and practically mend the entire relationship. Almost.

On rare occasions, Rafayel would apologize. That was the case for that big fight between you two. You had gone no-contact, leaving him on read most of the time. You avoided the place where you could likely find him wandering about; after all, it was him who should be going after you in this fight. You didn't owe him anything.

You ended up on the sandy shore of the bay, watching the tides threaten to soil your shoe, only to retreat and slither back into the sea. The cold air brought with it the salty scent of the ocean water, bringing a slight comfort to your nose.

The roughness of the waters masked the crunching sounds of Rafayel's footsteps; only then did you notice his presence when those familiar, gentle arms circled around the dip of your waist.

Silence.

"I was looking for you," he uttered under his breath.

"Why?"

"To apologize."

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for?" That came out of your lips monotonously, yet it struck every fiber of Rafayel's being.

"I said too much. I was mad, and so were you, but that's not an excuse to insult you and your feelings." To Rafayel, the waves were ready to swallow him whole. Like a poor little crab, unable to run away from the sea. "I was wrong for doing that, and I was wrong for shutting you out."

The apology wasn't enough. It was sincere, but it wasn't enough. "You can't keep doing that to me, Raf. You don't even get to give me a chance to speak." You pried away the hands that tried to bring you comfort. "You curse at me, you insult everything about me, and then kick me out like I'm just a major problem you can toss aside."

You could see your lover bite his lip. Anxious.

You love Rafayel, and there's nothing that can change that, and even if you were the one running after him during your fights, he fails to comprehend that you get tired, too.

"I'm an adult," you started. "We both are, Rafayel. But when we fight, why do you belittle me so much? Do you really think that low of me? Do you think you can push me around and make me follow all of your emotional whims?"

"No!" Rafayel exclaimed, in disbelief that your thought process had led you to say what you said. "I was mad. I didn't mean anything that I sai—"

"Then treat me right, Rafayel. Is that so hard to do? Is it really complicated to just…talk? Is it so hard to just sit down on your couch and listen to me?" You kept your lips shut, eyes staring at him without much thought. The usual cheery tone of your voice, nowhere in sight, in its wake, exhaustion. "I can only do so much for you, and I'm growing tired the more you do this to me—I get tired as well, Rafayel. You need to realize that."

The poor man didn't know what to say. Your words invaded his head, ridding it of any thought. They hurt. They stung at his heart. His fingers raised to lightly pull the hem of your sleeve, eyes meeting yours, glossy and flickering with fear; with hesitation, he asked: "Are you…breaking up with me?"

"I love you too much to break up with you." You took his cold hands. "I want to make us work. So help me. I can't do this alone." You tell him.

Your fingers were tiny against his own, yet they belonged in the in-betweens. You closed them and placed a kiss on the back of his palm.

He pulled you into an embrace, tightly, like the world was about to end in a matter of seconds.

He was cold, but his hug was warm. "I promise I'll work on myself. I don't want to hurt you again, and I don't want you to get tired of me." Rafayel whispered in your ear. "So don't give up on me. I'll change…"

The spare hand that hung on your hand gradually crept up his back, finding its usual place between Rafayel's shoulder blades. You rubbed small circles, the only comfort you could provide despite your exhaustion.

"I'll hold you to your word." You pressed a kiss on his cheek. As you did, you realized something you didn't a few minutes before.

Rafayel's exposed neck, his thin clothing, and his sandals didn't cover his whole feet. In the cold seaside, Rafayel looked like a madman wearing an indoor outfit, as if he had just walked out of his home without much thought. No wonder why he was so cold. He was shivering both at the thought of you nearly breaking up with him and because of the chilly mists of water hitting his way.

You unrolled the cotton scarf that warmed your neck, wrapping it around him instead. "Let's head home, I don't want you getting sick."

He quietly complied, pulling away from you but keeping your hand locked with his.

Sylus:

The same things happen again and again; it makes you feel numb. Empty.

There was no difference when you woke up alone or when you woke up in his embrace. Not when you were fighting.

Not tonight.

Sylus was awake. You couldn't see him due to the sheer darkness of his room, but he was there, his thumb brushing against your nape while a leg crossed over yours. You stared off into the corner of the room, wondering who was going to speak first.

"We're not breaking up, sweetie." It was more of a demand rather than a statement.

"We won't," two can play at his game. "If you apologize." Nobody would want to be abandoned and left hanging for a month. Especially not you.

You mustered the strength to push yourself up, expecting a bit of restraint from your lover—to your surprise, he let you stand up.

"Apologize for what, exactly? It was you who decided to test my patience. You were the one who cursed at me, calling me names and even throwing things in my way, so pray-tell, sweetie, what do I have to apologize for?" He stared at you, his gaze unfaltering and intense.

"I'm sorry," you stood your ground, yet the apology was long due. "I don't remember what we fought about, but I apologize. For cursing at you, for throwing things in your face. That won't happen again."

A lengthy breath escaped his lips, sounding unsatisfied with your seemingly half-hearted and shallow apology. Sylus wouldn't want to admit it to you, but he doesn't even know why he was mad; all Sylus knew that evening was that he was overcome with too much anger, one that he would usually release through violence. But it involved you. He doesn't want to hurt you or lay a hand on you, so the best option he has is to get away.

He didn't know for how long he should be gone, and in the blink of an eye, a full month had passed.

His anger had long been gone the same time as your loneliness began to fester.

As simple as the apology sounded, it was more than enough for him. "You're forgiven. Don't do that to me ever again."

The man stood up, and you watched his figure as he strode closer to you. He could see the look in your eyes, the anguish mixed with despair, and as he was about to pull you into a hug, a reverberating slap echoed in his room.

The back of his hand stung. And so did your palm.

"You're not going to touch me until you apologize, too, Sylus." Your throat burned at your own words. Your feet felt like they were buried half an inch into the floor, preventing you from running away. He looked down at you, low-lidded eyes devoid of any life.

"Why should I?"

You wanted to laugh at his crap.

"Why is it that you demand compensation every time I leave you on read for more than 3 days? Why do I have to explain where I've been, who I was with, and why I was gone while you—" A bitter laugh bloomed out of your mouth, "While you come here and not even offer a single bit of an explanation nor an apology?"

Sylus offers nothing in exchange for your words. He avoided you, that he can't deny. He used his work as an excuse to bury you at the back of his head and intentionally minimized your presence in his life.

"Hah," the ache at the back of your neck crept to the back of your head, nearly sending your head to throb all over. "You're unfair, Sylus. You're so goddamn unfair that…" You couldn't continue the words you wanted to say. It will only fan the flame in your heart and his.

"I just," the shiver in your breath snapped Sylus into reality. The feeling in your throat was uncomfortable. It was slowly becoming tangled, choking you of air. "I just want an apology from you, Sylus. Even just a small apology for abandoning me." And the fact that you had to beg him for it is just…

Sylus wrapped his hand around you, keeping your arms in place. You tried to break free from his grasp, but he held on to you tightly, not offering you a way out. Your face was smashed against his chest, and you could hear his heartbeat, pumping, beating all too fast.

"Forgive me," Sylus whispered. "There's no excuse for what I did."

His words were like the key to your eyes as tears began to cascade down your cheeks. There was no need for him to say anything else; it was enough for you. There was no strength left in you to reciprocate his hug, but you wanted to.

Sylus slipped his hand underneath your thighs and lifted you up. Carefully trudging to the bed, he laid you down in the same place you got up, tucking a blanket over you. He got on the bed as well, pulling you closer to his grasp.

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow." He stroked your cheek and placed a kiss on your eyes. "We can talk properly, and I'll apologize again," Sylus said. The same hand that touched your cheek slid down onto your shoulders, caressing it up and down.

The weariness began to settle in. The soft mattress and pillows and his warm touch.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, and you didn't know why you were fighting the fatigue, but Sylus' promise helped you settle down.

He doesn't go back on his words and doesn't say things he doesn't mean. You hold him up to his words.

And quietly, you drift off to sleep.

Author footnotes: I changed the writing style to a somewhat story-telling format. I hope you guys don't mind.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |

[frantic-fiction]

Payback 18+

(Pic: northernolddragon) I cropped it

Astarion x f!reader, Astarion x f!Tav

Summary: Astarion goes too far and embarrasses Tav in front of the party. She decides she wants a bit of revenge.

Warning: Smut, MDNI, slight Dom!reader, slight Sub!Astarion, Dom/Sub switch (kinda?), delayed orgasm, Oral sex m and f receiving, PnV sex,

Word Count: 3.8k (I'm a gremlin who just can't help myself)

Masterlist

That fucking asshole. How dare he? You slammed open the door, the handle hitting the wall with a resounding smack. Locking it behind you, you kick off your shoes, stumble over your feet, and rip off your dress. You begin throwing off every other accessory and remaining article of clothing until you are completely bare and breathing heavily. You sigh, frustrated, and pull on a pair of trousers and an old, tattered shirt. Anger pulses through your veins, and embarrassment burns deep in your chest. Falling onto the bed, you drop your face into your hands and pull at the ends of your hair.

Astarion went too far this time. Usually, you loved his sassy comments and sarcastic humor. You were typically the first to laugh when he jests and pokes fun at you and the other party members. But how can you laugh when his lighthearted jokes turn to dirty secrets? When he's telling your friends out in a crowded pub intimate details from your sex life.

You should have known it was a bad idea to have Astarion feed from you while there was liquor coursing through your veins. But he was curious and very convincing. It didn't take long before you were offering him your wrist. Neither of you really thought the alcohol would affect Astarion, and you didn't expect Astarion to be such a fucking ass when intoxicated. 

He teased you and shared private moments all night, and you wanted to hate him. Moreover, you wanted him to be sorry. Beg for forgiveness and mean it. But Astarion is a prideful man and has a stupidly hard time giving out apologies. He's improved, especially with you, but you don't want a simple sorry. You want payback, a little revenge, or as close to it as possible.

A sudden, devilish thought crosses your mind, and you know how you're going to get just that. Quickly, you jump up and move to set your plan in motion. You clean up the room, erasing your angry tantrum from before, and strip down naked once more. You dig around Astarion's pack and pull out his white-laced shirt. And then you wait for him. 

It takes just under an hour of waiting. You filled the time with one of the books you picked up the other day. But just as you go to flip another page, the door handle twists, catching on the lock. You’re on your feet and at the door before Astarion can attempt to unlock it. The palm of your hand hits the door hard, and you're holding it close. 

"Why should I let you in?" Your tone lace with venom.

"Darling," Astarion sighs, a tinge of exhaustion undertoned in his words, his voice no longer holding that annoying drunken slur. "Must we do this?"

"You weren't very nice to me tonight." You lean your back against the door, crossing your arms. “I have half a mind to make you bunk with someone else.”

His head falls against the wood, pushing lightly against your back. "If you let me in, I promise I'll make it up to you." It felt like he was breathing these words sinfully into your ear. 

You flip the lock and open the door. "Say you're sorry."

"Is that really what you want?" He purrs, his eyes darkening and pressing into your space. "I much prefer physical apologies."

Astarion pulls you into a lustful kiss, his hand snaking up your shirt and massaging your breast. He bites your lip, and when you gasp, he licks into your mouth. He traces his fingers over your hip bone and pulls you close.

"Wearing my shirt with no underwear?” He nips your bottom lip, and you shudder. “I don't think you're as mad as you say, my sweet."

You smile sharply and pull him further into the room. Reclaiming his lips, you start pulling at his shirt, exposing Astarion's pale skin. He's kissing down your neck, tugging your shirt aside to lather his tongue over your shoulder. His fangs tease your skin, and you moan. Trailing your fingertips down his stomach, you undo his pants, tugging it down. Astarion steps out, leaving him in a pair of tight briefs, an outline of his swelling cock evident against the straining fabric. He pushes the trousers to the side, and the two of you fall onto the bed in a heap.

"Who says this is for you?" you say coyly, forcing his head to the side and biting hard at his throat.

"Hells,"

"Maybe I was going to take care of myself tonight." You kiss his cheek "Take a bath, have some wine," you bring your lips to his ear. "Touch myself." You tease his ear between your teeth. His grip tightens on you. "I don't need you to please myself, Astarion."

Astarion groans deep in his chest and runs his hands up your thighs to the swell of your ass. He grinds you down onto his half-hard cock. "But here we are." 

"But here we are." You mimic, smiling smugly, relishing how Astarion so confidently believes he holds all the cards.

He kisses you again, and you let him. You could easily get lost in the wet dance of lips and the delicious silent promises of more to come. Give in and just let Astarion consume you. But no, you are far more excited with what's to come. 

"I want to taste you." You moan needily- dragging your teeth down his chest. Maybe you were playing it up, but it seemed to work. You circle his nipple with your tongue, and Astarion lets out a deep groan, nails digging into the plush flesh of your ass.

"Don't let me stop you, my love," 

You tug his cock out and squeeze him softly; he's stiff and aching and instinctually bucks up into your palm. Licking over his nipple, you begin to suck. A trickle of precum starts to fall, and you collect it, beginning to stroke slowly. Kissing down his stomach, you reach his pelvic bone. You look up, meeting Astarion's intense gaze. His mouth is agape, his chest moving in harsh breaths. One hand is reaching up, gripping the headboard in an ironclad grip. You softly press a kiss to the tip of his cock before taking him into your mouth. 

"Fuck," He hissed through clenched teeth, "Gods, I love your mouth." 

Urged on by his response, you take more of him in his mouth and begin to move at a slow pace sucking and bobbing your head. Astarion's hands grabbed your shoulder and softly stroked up your neck to the back of your head. He didn't force the pace, just gently held your head, rubbing his thumb softly behind your ear.

"That's it, Darling. So good to me."

Heat rushes through your body, the praise going straight to your core. You hum and begin to bob your head faster. Sucking hard, hollowing your cheeks, you trail your hand down his tensed thigh and cup his balls. You roll him in your hands, and Astarion moans, thrusting into your mouth. You gag and grab his hips, holding him down with your weight.

He's close. His eyes are unfocused, trying desperately to stay on you; he's letting out breathless gasps and attempting to buck up into your mouth, seeking more for you to give. That's when you pull off of him entirely and squeeze his cock tightly.

Astarion lets out a needy whine, sits up, and instantly meets your eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. 

"Apologize!"

"What?" Astarion says, dazed and still lost in the loss of stimulation. Then it dawns on him, and he realizes what's happening. "Naughty little-"

You give him one stroke, and Astarion chokes. "Apologize for embarrassing me tonight."

"My sweet, I was intoxicated; it's not really my fault." He's trying to give off an air of indifference, but you know him better. Astarion was moments away from crumbling.

"I was just as drunk, and I wasn't telling everyone about our sex life." You lick over the tip and begin to stoke him slowly. "Apologize, and I might just let you fuck me."

He moans deeply, thrusting up into your fist. "I-ng shit, I'm sorry, you were upset with my words tonight."

"Nope, try again." You stop completely and meet his eyes. "You have to mean it."

"Please! My love, I'm sorry." His voice cracks. He's practically whimpering; he brings his fist to his mouth and bites down to keep a semblance of control. 

"That's closer, but what you said still hurts, so I want you to make it up to me." You move up his body and kiss him. "Do you want to make it up to me?"

"Yes! Anything!" He sounds so desperate. You don't think you've ever felt so aroused. You clench instinctually against nothing, seeking friction that's not there.

"I want you to beg. I want you to beg to fuck me, handsome" You scratch your nails teasingly down the broad of Astarion's chest. "I want everyone to hear how - how did you put it, love? 'desperate and needy' you are for me."

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, eyes blackened from arousal, and a smile stretches his lips."I like this side of you, Darling."

 Astarion captures your lips, and you're on your back before you can comprehend what's happening. "My sweet, please, I need to touch you." His voice is louder than it needs to be. 

"Do you?" You purr, hooking your leg over his hip. 

"Yes!" He moans out, rutting against your dripping cunt. "Please, I need you!"

You brush your hand through Astarions hair and pull him down for a kiss. "Then be a good boy and touch me." 

Astarion doesn't need to be told twice to tug up your shirt. You let him pull it off and throw it across the room. He starts to trail sloppy, wet kisses down the column of your neck. A rough hand grabs your breast, and nimble fingers pinch your nipple. You sigh and thrust your hips up when Astarions mouth finds your other nipple and rolls the peak softly between his teeth before sucking hard.

"Astarion," you moan, caressing any available skin of his you can reach. "So good to me."

He grunts at the praise and moves down your stomach, leaving kitten licks and sharp nips in his wake. His hands are trailing down your sides and stop to grip your hips in a firm hold. He pulls you down the bed, and you let out a little yelp. Astarion meets your half-lidded gaze and bites at the fat of your thigh, lapping up the droplets of blood that bead up to the surface. 

"The sweetest treat," Astarion moans, throwing your leg over his shoulder, trailing his nose down your thigh to the spot you want him most. But I'm still famished. I need more, please."

"Don't let me stop you, handsome." You smirked, mimicking his previous words. Your breath was catching, and you felt just as desperate as Astarion.

You let out a gargled mewl when Astarion trails one long agonizing lick up the length of your cunt. He never breaks eye contact; you bite your lip and grip one of your breasts, fisting the other into the bedsheet.

Astarion consumes you like he'll never be able to again. Desperate, messy, and with no care for the thinness of the walls. You gasp and instinctually try to clamp your legs close. His cold hands hold your hips apart, only allowing pathetic gyrates of your hips. The room is filled with filthy wet slurps and needy moans as Astarion tears you apart.

"Faster, Star. Don't you dare stop," you demand, grinding against his face, shivering when his pointed nose teases your clit. "Such a good boy."

His moan quakes through your cunt, and you throw your head back into the pillow, arching your back slightly. Astarion's fingers push into you and match the ragged pace of his mouth. Your hand finds his soft curls again and holds him in place, pulling gently at the roots. Astarion could break away anytime, but he seems to like it because you feel him grind down against the bed. 

"No, no, pretty boy." You tsk, pulling his hair harsher. He grunts against you, sucking harder at your clit. "You don't get to come until you’re forgiven."

Astarion pulls away from your clit, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers are still pumping into you. "You cruel women." He practically whines breathlessly.

"You're- shit- you're making up for your naughty behavior, remember?" The coil is tightening in your stomach, your body hot, and your breath shaky. "Now be good and make me come."

He smiles wickedly and resumes his ministrations. He curls his fingers up and presses against the spot that has you gasping in silent cries. His mouth finds your clit again and laps his tongue against it. He's relentless, and your legs are trembling. The pleasure is building, the flame licking through your veins. 

"m close, Star,"

He doesn't stop or voice any cheeky comments he would typically make. He just pumps his fingers faster and sucks and lavishes his tongue harder against your cunt. You feel your body tightening, and you grab for anything to hold on to; one hand is still in Astarion's hair, but your other hand grabs his shoulder, digging your nails into his flesh. Astarion scrapes his fangs playfully against your clit, and that's all you need to fall apart. 

You're moaning and screaming his name and mumbling incoherent praises into the air. Black spots seem to cloud over your vision, and all your muscles tighten at once. Astarion drags you through your orgasm, slowing his fingers and moving to soft kitten licks. It takes you a moment to return to yourself, and you are out of breath and covered in sweat. Looking down, you see Astarion. He's staring at you, licking his lips, collecting every drop of you. His face is full of affection and untenable arousal.

"Am I forgiven?"

You surge forward and tackle him into an uncoordinated kiss. You maneuver him around until his back is against the headboard, and you are seated comfortably in his lap. Your tongue tangled with his, the tangy sweetness of your release mingling in the dance. Pulling back, you catch his lip tugging playfully.

"Hmm… I don't know," You smirk, grabbing his neglected cock and giving it a few languid strokes. 

"Darling, please!" He begs, head falling back, exposing his neck to your greedy mouth. 

You press your mouth to the hollow of his throat and suck until you're sure there will be a noticeable mark tomorrow. "I guess you have been such a good boy." Circling your thumb over his tip, you swipe his cock through your folds, coating him in your arousal. 

"Yes, I've been so good." His voice chokes, and he clenches his jaw, desperately trying to seek more friction. Hells, he was so incredibly sexy like this.

"And I think a good boy deserves a reward. Wouldn't you agree, Star?" The rush you feel at his desperation, his neediness for you and only you, has your confidence surging. 

"Yes! Please!"

You line him up with your hole and sit down painfully slow. Two groans of pleasure join together in the room as you seat yourself to the hilt. Astarion grabs your hips in a death grip, releasing an almost painful hiss through his teeth. For a moment, you don't move; feel the stretch and the completeness he gives you. Meeting his eyes, you place your hands on his shoulders and raise on your haunches. You pull up almost off him completely before lowering at the same brutally slow pace.

"Gods, you're so tight." Astarion groans, head falling against your arm. 

He uses the grip on your hips to help set a steady pace that has both of you dissolve into a moaning, blubbering mess. You clench around him and run your hand up his neck to the back of his head, pulling him to your chest. Astarion is quick to resume lavishing your breast with messy kisses, surely littering you with bites and bruises that will linger for days to come. 

You would have loved to drag this out. Punish Astarion for hours until he was nothing but a mumbling, blushing pussy-drunk mess. But you were growing impatient, and the delicious feeling of Astarion's cock filling you was clouding your more devious thoughts. Grinding your hips down hard onto his cock had Astarion gasping into your chest. 

You cupped his jaw and captured his mouth before whispering seductively into his ear. "You've been forgiven. Now I want you to fuck me hard."

A deep groan rumbled through Astarion's chest, and he did just that. You're suddenly on your back, and his tongue is in your mouth. The slow pace was thrown out the window to a brutal pounding that tore the breath from your lungs.

"A-astarion, fuck” You roll your hips to match his pace. 

You're not going to last much longer; you don't think you've ever been more aroused, and seeing how pent-up Astarion is, having been teased along for too long. You know he's just as close. You grab his hand and pull it down your body to where you want it most. He grunts huskily in your ear and rubs harshly at your bundle of nerves. Throwing one of your legs over Astarion's hip, you adjust your body, and his thrusts find a new angle that presses against that beautiful spot inside of you. 

Astarion’s other hand, can’t seem to stay still, moving up and down your body, trying to pay equal attention to all of your soft skin. He’s squeezing your hip, tickling your side, cupping your breast, and moving back down to repeat all over again. He’s peppering kisses over your forehead and cheeks, biting your kiss-swollen lips, running his nose along yours. It’s overwhelming and not enough, but it is always with him. Astarion moves to your neck and sucks at his favorite spot, the place he feeds most frequently from, silently begging for a taste. 

"Mhm," you nod, words no longer forming on your tongue. 

Astarion's fangs pierce your skin, and the familiar icy cold floods your veins. You cry out as he greedily drinks from your body. Your blood seems to turn Astarion feral. He grabs your other leg to join the other in a link behind his back. Astarion grinds you into the mattress, brutally pumping in and out of you. All your body can do is wrap your arms around his neck, smoothing your hands over his body, and hold on. The only sounds that echo in the darkroom are the slick, obscene sounds of skin sliding against skin and needy moans and desperate whimpers. 

You can't tell if you're lightheaded because of the pleasure Astarion is giving you or the blood that he's consuming from your neck. It's probably both, but right now, you only care that he keeps going because that lovely burning heat is returning and boiling in your stomach. 

"I'm so close," you whimper.

This has Astarion finally pulling away from your neck. He looks deeply into your eyes, his pace never faltering. There's a trickle of your blood running down his chin, and you reach up to catch it. You push your thumb into his mouth, and without breaking your gaze, Astarion licks it clean. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours above your head. His hand somehow seems to move faster against your clit, and you are moments away from coming undone. On the ledge but seemingly hanging by your fingertips.

"S-so am I, darling." He manages to stutter out, and you pull him down for a kiss. It is desperate and needy, and the taste of your blood, sharp and metallic, mingles with his spit. "Come for me, love; let me feel you."

Those words, always commanded with such affection, had an immediate effect. You clench around him like a vice, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. You sigh his name into his mouth and cup his face with your spare hand as if the moment you come down from this high Astarion might no longer be real. 

Astarion's pace falters, and he clumsily thrusts. Once, twice, three more times before burying deep into your cunt and coming hard with a deep groan. While you're still amid your ecstasy, you are still mesmerized by Astarion coming undone before you. The way his jaw clicks shut and he squeezes his eyes closed. The tightening of his hand on your body, gripping hard enough to bruise, not that you minded. The stuttering minute juts of his hips as he rides out the last of his orgasm. And finally, watching Astarion's body turn to jelly, bones and muscles collapsing under his weight as he falls onto you, head finding your chest.

You run your hand through his curls, scratching his scalp. Astarion purrs softly and kisses your chest, running delicate fingers up your side. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the inside of your wrist. 

Astarion rolls off of you and moves from the bed. You whine at the loss of fullness but make no other protest. A tiredness has settled deep in your bones; you don't think you could move if you wanted to. 

Thankfully, Astarion was quick to return. In his hands was a cup of water and a wet cloth. Smiling softly, you take the glass from him and take a long gulp. Handing it back, he places it on the nightstand and rejoins you in bed. Astarion delicately cleans you off, kissing your neck when you wince from oversensitivity. After that was taken care of, he discards the used cloth and pulls you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head and tightening his hold on you. You hum softly and nuzzle into his chest. 

"I am sorry," he says, fingertips drawing nonsense patterns on your back. You glance up to meet his gaze, and he pushes some of your hair out of your eyes. "I'm truly sorry I hurt you, my love. I didn't mean to." 

You give him a tender smile, "Thank you, Star," you kiss the chest just above his heart and whisper, lips brushing against his skin. "I love you."

"And I love you."

Next Day: You giggle over your glass of juice, watching a very disgruntled Astarion from across the room. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes were sharp. His bare forearms crossed over his chest. He was slouched down in his chair, looking like he would rather be anywhere else than in his current situation.

Gale was sitting in front of the vampire, a dusty tome placed on the table between him. You could barely hear the wizard's words as he vainly tried to teach Astarion a simple silencing spell. Gale was trying to help, given the very vocal display Astarion gave last night. And you couldn’t be more pleased at Astarion’s predicament. 

Astarion's ears twitch and his head snap in your direction to give you a pointed glare. He's only given more of your laughter in response.

Fine I'll admit it, I like a needy Astarion, sue me. But you got to agree that drunk Astarion would be a fucking menace.

Anyways let me know what ya thought. Talking with you guys is a highlight of my day.

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr

Want to be added? DM me.

[a-hazbin-reader]

could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!

I guess I gotta- 🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention

He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it

Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time

He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him

He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves

After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak

Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???

Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention

"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."

He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them

"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"

Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye

"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"

The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs

"I guess he had other things to do~"

You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers

"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."

You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down

He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner

"Alastor, are you even listening?"

"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"

He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention

Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand

You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him

"Alastor, that was rude..."

He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic

"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious

It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch

"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"

He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again

"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"

He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips

"It will be if you keep injuring people~"

And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you

You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best

When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body

"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"

He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in

You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation

"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."

You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance

"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"

He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend

You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-

"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"

It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it

The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head

"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form

You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this

"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."

He's so cute when he's jealous

"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"

Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart

"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"

He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face

You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss

"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"

He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together

"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"

You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner

"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"

You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss

"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"

I might go back and change this one a bit ngl

[vanesycho]

Summary:You complain about your gamer boyfriend but Haechan proves to you that his fast fingers aren't just for gaming.

Warning:Smut, fingering, pussy eating

wc:0,9k

──────────────────────

You walked into Haechan's room and called out to him, rolling your eyes as you realized he couldn't hear you and walked over to him. Noticing a figure next to him, Haechan glanced at you for a moment before quickly turning back to his computer. “Yes, baby?” you crossed your arms, "I've been calling you for dinner for about five minutes, when you still haven't come I got worried, it turns out you were playing games." A few seconds passed, he was so focused on the screen that he ran your sentences through his head for a while and then he replied, "Oh sorry love but I have to finish this, five more minutes."

You let out a deep breath and sat on the bed behind him and waited for him.Your eyes caught the screen, after watching the game he was playing for a while, your eyes caught his hands.His fingers were tapping quickly on the keyboard, he had rings on some of his fingers and you thought that made him even more attractive. You swallowed as thoughts came to your mind as you continued to look at your fingers. After a few minutes, Haechan turned to you, his hand resting on the keyboard, he opened his mouth to say something but he realized your eyes were on his fingers and he just stood there with his mouth open. He looked where your eyes landed and grinned, running his tongue in his mouth. “Come here.”

You took your eyes off his fingers and looked at him, he patted his desk a few times with his hand. You stood up and walked towards him, Haechan walked towards you as well, making you sit at his desk. “Your game...is still not finished.” He grinned, spreading your legs, grateful that you were wearing only his shirt, and easily moved his hand between your legs to your pussy. "I was going to continue the game but I realized how naughty my girlfriend. Looking at my hands huh? Just say you want to feel them, baby." He easily inserted two fingers inside you, you let out a moan, his smile widened, with his other hand he took off his glasses and started kissing your lips. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his fingers curling inside you, entered fastly, you moaned into his mouth, then he pulled back. "Good? Or..."

You held your breath for a moment as he pushed another finger inside you. “Fuck-” he liked your reaction, reached for your neck, you felt his wet kisses. "Hm...You're so out of breath even just for my fingers. Are you that needy? How cute." You threw your head back and moaned. Haechan took this opportunity to continue his kisses, leaving deep moans and breaths in your ear, driving you even wilder.

He grabbed your leg with his free hand and made you wrap it around his waist, "Hyuck..I'm close.. Please-" He slowed down his movements, with that, you whined. He chuckled and looked at your face. “Are you going to complain again?” you rolled your eyes. “You call that a complaint? You’re the one who’s been sneaking out of your room and playing games for hours.” He looked into your eyes seriously, leaned closer to your lips and whispered, "I was thinking you might have changed your mind. Haven't I fucked you with my fingers enough yet?"

He pulled his fingers out of you, and when your pleasure was cut short, you pressed your legs together. "You're bastard." he laughed hysterically "Oh yeah? That bastard was just fucking you with his fingers. Get on the bed, Y/n. Don't make me mad." When he saw that you weren't getting up, he locked eyes with you. Grabbed your wrist and made you lie down on the bed, rolling up your shirt.

He put two fingers in your pussy, you let out a moan of pleasure, he leaned in and started licking your clit. His fingers started moving quickly inside her, he didn't slow down, he was sucking and licking with his tongue.The pleasure from both sides has reached a level that will make you scream.The wetness of your pussy drove Haechan crazy and he let out a moan, "Such a naughty but have beautiful pussy." The pleasure inside you increased, you moaned tearfully, your pussy tightened, even with two fingers it was this good. "Fuck- I'm close..so close, please.."

Haechan didn’t stop, he continued to fuck you with his fingers and tongue, your breathing increased, how you were moaning echoed in his ears. He could feel you getting closer as waves of pleasure coursed through your body. But it didn't last long, he stopped his movements and sucked your clit one last time.You muttered a curse and looked at him. He lifted his head, smirking, “Oh you look so wasted, I’d love to make you cum and see how much I could ruin you but..” He pulled his fingers out of you, licked the areas covered in your juices, and got up from the bed. “Fuck Hyuck, are you gonna leave me like this?” He laughed and turned to you. “You’re the one who complained about me not coming to dinner a moment ago, and now you’re telling me not to go to dinner?" you watched him leave the room, letting out a loud whimper as the door closed behind him, Haechan heard you from behind the door and grinned to himself and headed towards the kitchen. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy and he was going to show you after dinner.

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[vmlnrznotfound]

THE SHY GIRL SAYS SHE LOVES YOU!

characters: isagi, sae, rin, kaiser

a/n: collab with an anon requester🤍

ISAGI YOICHI

you felt a sense of peace being with isagi, walking hand in hand as the sun set. however, underneath, a turmoil of emotions brewed within you.

you came to a halt, unable to take another step. you looked down, your heart pounding so loudly that you feared he might hear it. isagi immediately noticed your change in demeanor and turned to face you, concern etched on his features. "hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice full of worry.

taking a shaky breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "i love you," you whispered, so quietly that you weren't sure if he heard you. his eyes widened in surprise, and his jaw dropped slightly. he stepped closer, his hands moving to your shoulders, grounding you. you looked up at him, seeing the shock mirrored in his eyes, and suddenly you couldn't stop the words from pouring out.

"i'm so sorry, yo-chan," you began to ramble, your voice filled with anxiety. "this wasn't how i planned to say it. this wasn't the right time. i didn't mean to blurt it out like this—"

isagi tightened his grip on your shoulders, his eyes never leaving yours. "baby...say it again," he said, his voice a mixture of awe and desperation.

you blinked, momentarily thrown off by his request. "what?"

"please, say it again. please," he begged.

overwhelmed with embarrassment, you pulled away from his grip, your hands flying up to cover your face. "i can't," you mumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. "i'm so embarrassed."

isagi watched you for a moment, his expression softening with understanding. he gently took your wrists and pulled your hands away from your face, holding them securely in his own. "hey, it's okay," he said softly, his voice soothing. gently he placed a quick kiss on your cheek, "i love you too."

ITOSHI SAE

you were in sae’s room, sitting on his bed as you watched him do push-ups. you could tell he was mad about something, the tension in his muscles reflecting his frustration.

as you sat on the edge of the bed, you found yourself caught in your own turmoil. you wanted to say something, but the words were stuck in your throat. finally, you took a deep breath and—"i...love..." but you trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue. sae, noticing your hesitation, finished his set and got up, walking over to you with a determined stride.

without warning, he hovered over you, making you lay flat on the bed with him on top of you. his gaze was intense as he looked down at you, his expression full of frustration.

“ ‘i love’ what?” he asked, his voice firm and demanding. your eyes widened as the blood rushed to your face. you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment, but sae quickly pinned your wrists above your head, his grip firm yet gentle. “finish it,” he said, his tone a mix of insistence and softness.

you stayed silent, unable to meet his gaze. the weight of the moment pressed heavily on you, and the words remained trapped in your throat. sae’s eyes softened slightly as he held you in place, waiting for you to speak.

after a moment, he let out a deep sigh, releasing your wrists gently. “it’s okay,” he said quietly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “you don’t have to say it if you’re not ready.”

ITOSHI RIN

rin sat on your bed, arms crossed, his gaze locked on your plushie with an intensity as if the teddy that gets to cuddle you every night is responsible for everything.

you entered the room, balancing a bowl of chopped fruits. without a word, you sat down in front of him, feeling the weight of the moment. rin’s eyes followed your every move, his frustration palpable.

“you know,” rin began, his tone sharp but restrained, “you’re testing my patience. you really are.”

you tilted your head, confused by his sudden shift in mood.

rin’s jaw tightened as he continued, “it’s not that hard. just say it.”

your confusion deepened as you tried to understand his words.

rin’s eyes bore into you, his frustration mingled with an earnest plea. “say how you feel. i've been waiting for you to confess, and I’m tired of hearing about your crushes on everyone but me.”

the tension in the room was almost unbearable. you swallowed hard, the pressure making it difficult to think clearly as you looked away, averting his gaze, “i didn’t realize—”

“just say it,” rin cut you off, his voice firm but laced with vulnerability. “i need to hear it.”

and when you do, he says it too.

reaching out, taking your hand in his, as he pulled you closer, the earlier frustration melted away, replaced by a tender embrace. the bowl of fruits lay forgotten as you wrapped your arms around each other, the weight of rin’s patience and your confession dissolving into a shared moment of closeness and understanding.

MICHAEL KAISER

you sat on the edge of the bed, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. michael kaiser, who was lounging beside you, being persistent, his voice full of frustration.

"come on," he said, leaning closer "just say it. i’ll let you play with my hands if you say so. and i promise i won’t tease."

you shifted uncomfortably, your gaze fixed on the floor. his offer was tempting: you loved playing with his hands. tracing the intricate crown tattoo on the back of his hand, brushing your thumb over his fingers, it was soothing. but admitting your feelings out loud was something you couldn’t seem to muster the courage for.

"michael…" you mumbled, your voice barely a whisper.

"please?" he prodded gently. "i’m waiting."

taking a deep breath, you finally looked up at him. the intensity in his eyes made your heart race. "i love you," you said, your voice trembling slightly as you spoke the words you’d been holding back.

the instant the words left your lips, michael’s expression changed to ecstatic. without hesitation, he tackled you onto the bed, his arms wrapping around you in an enthusiastic embrace. you both fell onto the mattress, his laughter and joy mingling in the air.

"i love you too," he said, his voice muffled against your skin as he peppered your face with kisses.

[cutielando]

i literally love the idea of a reader that LOVES haircare and one day carlos decides to take a shower w her and she teaches him how to use the products

hair routine | c.s.

my masterlist

Everyone knew the magic that Carlos' hair held.

The fans, the F1 reporters, his family, your friends; there was nobody who knew Carlos that wasn't absolutely enamored with his hair.

You were one of those people, if not the biggest fan of his hair.

Ever since the two of you got together, your hands would always be tangling themselves in the strands of his hair, enjoying the softness of his locks and the volume it always had.

Carlos was slightly amused whenever you would lay down next to him and your hands would unconsciously gravitate towards his hair, enjoying the attention to his head. Especially the free head scratches he got at the same time.

However, you were quite annoyed at your boyfriend because he wouldn't let you use some products to maintain it.

You had so many hair masks which would help his hair be ever healthier than it already was, give it even more volume and make it even softer, yet he always denied you the satisfaction of using them on him.

"Mi amor, my hair is completely fine the way it is. I don't want any products to damage my perfectly healthy hair" he would always say.

To be honest, you didn't believe him for a second. He was just embarrassed of using feminine products in order to keep his hair soft and stylish.

Men.

However, you weren't letting it go so easily.

You were determined to get him to finally let you use your products on his hair, whether he liked it or not.

But, as it turns out, you didn't have to do much, because he came to you with the proposal all by himself.

It happened when he came back from dinner with the Ferrari team following the Spanish Grand Prix.

You had decided to stay behind at home and have a night to yourself, take a very long and fruitful shower and just enjoy a quiet night in.

Just as you were shampooing your hair, you heard the bathroom door open and Carlos' voice fill the air.

"Mi amor" he called out, leaning back against the counter.

You stuck your head out the shower and smiled at him before returning back to your shampoo routine.

"Hi, love. How was dinner?" you called out, hearing him shuffling outside the shower door but paying him no mind.

"It was good, talked a little bit about our pace and everything" he said, stripping of his clothes before stepping into the shower with you.

You leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind him, enjoying his calming presence.

Carlos planted open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, but started coughing and spitting when he realized you were full of shampoo.

"You're such a dork sometimes" you said while laughing, stepping under the water jet to wash everything off.

Carlos glared at you but couldn't get mad, seeing you being completely at ease while taking such good care of yourself and your body.

He eyed you as you picked up bottle after bottle, putting all kinds of different colored liquids in your hair.

"What do you use all of those for?" he asked after you take the 4th bottle in your hand and squirt some liquid into your palm.

"They're all different hair masks that help keep my hair roots healthy and the texture of my hair soft" you explained, giving him a smile before getting back to work.

Carlos stood there and thought about it for a moment. Admittedly, your hair was always so soft and smelled so nice, and you had been bugging him for ages to let you take care of his hair.

And to be honest, he just needed to be dotted on after the disappointing result of his home race and the awkward dinner he had just sat through.

"Do you think you could teach me how to use those on my hair?" he asked, making you pause your actions and turn to look at him with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.

"You're really going to let me do it?" you cooed, looking up at him with the most adorable puppy eyes you could muster.

He sighed, but smiled once he realized just how excited he had made you about such a little thing.

And when he nodded, he could only sit there in silence while you explained a whole routine for him, carefully telling him about all the advantages of keeping his hair clean and healthy.

But he wouldn't have it any other way.

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[lavender-spice]

an honest man

Tyler Owens x Reader

Lily reveals the truth about Tyler's night, leading to confrontation

warnings: cussing, angst, but fluff at the end!

"Tyler Owens!" you shout , storming into your motel room. The rusty door slams with a rough shake and a deafening clang. The entire floor probably felt the shake of it but you could care less. You were going to skin Tyler alive. You beeline to the bathroom door, hearing the shower running. "Tyler you open this door right fucking now." you demand, jiggling the locked doorknob.

"Y/N? What is it doll what's the matter?" his voice is laced with concern as you hear him stumble out of the shower. He cracks the door open, hair dripping wet, shower still running. His eyes are wide, startled at your fuming expression.

"Do you care to explain why Lily says you were out 'till 2 am drinking with Kate?" he looks at you, flabbergasted. "You said you were out with Boone."

"Baby I was with Boone 'till like midnight, I was with both of them. Lily headed in with you and those two hung around. Kate was just the last to call it a night. We were up chatting real late." he replies nonchalantly. You roll your eyes.

Ever since this Kate girl rolled in Tyler's been smothering her like she's a baby in need of a blanket. He coddles her, taking attention from you. Every other word is Kate, Kate, Kate. It's like he's not even chasing for the storm, it feels like an excuse to be around her.

"I don't believe a word you say Tyler. You weren't in bed 'till 5 am, and I thought you were coming from Boone's room. Now I hear that Kate told Lily you were out 'till 2 with her, so what happened between 2 and 5, Tyler?" you demand, your voice growing angrier with each word. He sighs, stepping back.

"Can I at least finish my shower first?" he pleads. You scoff, letting go of the door. "You can go lick her boots Tyler. I'm sick of this." you storm off, leaving the room with a huff. You walk mindlessly until you reach the bar you were at last night.

You push the doors open and sit down at one of the rickety stools, ordering a Coors. And another, and another, until you're properly tipsy enough to not give a shit about where your fiancé may be. All you do is take down beer after beer, your empty stomach churning at the bubbly alcohol, your eyes getting wet each time they meet with the glistening stone on your left finger.

Tyler was a perfect man, a perfect partner. He understood you, he took care of you, and all of the sudden that's all tossed out the second some new city girl shows up. Even Lily noticed the shift in behavior. It was uncharacteristic, and no matter how mad you were, you just wanted Tyler back to being completely yours.

About two hours and a half pass by of you just wallowing in your own pity- even the bartender was shooting you looks every time you ordered another drink. By number 5, he tells you to cool down and has you close out. By then Tyler is also meandering towards you.

"Baby." he says. You don't look at him. "Y/N. Darlin' look at me."

You still refuse.

"I didn't sleep with Kate, or do whatever you think I did. I was talking to her about her accident. She had an accident years ago with an experiment gone wrong that killed her friends- we were unpacking it. We were getting to know each other. She was wanting to get to know you, too. I know it sounds bad, I know it looks even worse, but baby you have to believe me." he's begging at this point, shakily placing his hand over yours. "You're the only woman for me. The only person for me, the only one I could ever love. I can't look at nobody else the way I look at you. You mean everything to me. I'd let a tornado rip me away if it meant you could be happy forever. I never want to see you like this, especially if it's my fault. I just want to make this right honey."

Tears stream down your face. He sounds genuine, and you know he means it too. You finally turn your head, locking eyes. He's sorrowful, wiping your tears.

"Can you find it in you to forgive me?" you don't hesitate to nod. He leans over to kiss you, before outstretching his hand. "Let's get you to bed alright?" you let him lead you back to the room, feeling warm from the beer, and the affection he's showing you. This, this was your Tyler. The man you were going to marry. The caring soul you'd fallen for all those years ago.

He helps you change and tucks you into bed, kissing you earnestly. He murmurs sweet nothings into your hair as you breathe him in, drifting to sleep, secure in his arms.

[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 !

[fluffylino]

annoyed!hyunjin

you decide to say sorry in your own way~

-contains suggestive themes

"pay attention to me?" hyunjin asked for the 4th time. you hummed, disagreeing. you could feel his eyes on you. they were still at mcountdown. he had about an hour until the actual recording.

the others had gone to get something to eat while felix and han were rolling around on the floor. jisung had fallen asleep right next to your leg. you stared at the words in your textbook, or tried to. hyunjin was stuffing cereal into his mouth, his eyes following whatever you were reading.

"look at me" he pleaded but you spared him no glance. you hadn't even realised he was sulking. the door shut and you looked up after what seemed like hours.

hyunjin had walked out. you didn't think much of it. that was until he refused to talk to you for the rest of the day. you also had pride so you weren't one to beg for his attention.

"hyunjinnn" you called out, a big smile on your face. your heart dropping when he locked eyes with you for less that a second. going back to his conversation with a staff member. time had past you sat on the couch, watching them practice.

you slowly began to get sleepy even though the music was loud enough to keep you awake. you laid down, curling into a ball. drifting into dreamland.

when you woke up next, you shuffled around. something was different. what you were laying on was softer yet firmer. it all made sense when you heard hyunjin's voice above you. no, he wasn't talking to you. he was discussing something- their positions or where they were to walk around on stage to changbin. a few minutes passed and you heard the door close. was practice done?! no unfortunately.

you squinted, lights very bright for your comfort, admiring his face. how could he look this good for an angle made to look people bad?

you could feel his fingers very subtly running through your hair. and his other hand outstretched to pat your thigh. the moment he looked down at you, you shut your eyes, moving closer to him. your face against his stomach. trying your best to not make it look like you were actually awake, you slid your arm behind him, holding on to this lower waist.

all you could smell was him. heat radiated off of him and he smelt....musky. like he had just danced his butt off.

finally you opened your eyes. he took notice of it. his hands moving away to rest against the backrest of the black couch.

oh...so he was still mad at you. at this point, you couldn't help but feel guilty. you didn't mean to do that.

"baby...im sorry" you mumbled, looking up at him. he avoided your gaze. pretending? to look around the room.

"hyunnie sorry please.." you tugged his shirt a bit, holding his waist more firmly. yet he didn't respond. but hyunnie was his favourite nickname.

"you can slap me, i was stupid" you whined, pushing your face against his stomach with force. he jerked forward. you nipped at him. making no attempt to stop. his hands frantically held you back. or atleast he tried to. you wriggled around, throwing a playful tantrum. until you accidently touched the wrong place.

he shot you a glare.

"behave yourself"

of course you were going to apologize since everyone was still there but you wanted to do more. just to piss him off. if he was annoyed at you earlier, you wanted to tick him off even more in a much different way.

no one would even see what you were doing. unless they actually *looked*.

you bit the string of his sweatpants, pulling on it lightly. he shot you another look.

this time keeping his eyes on you. you mouthed at his covered crotch, poking your tongue out on where you knew his tip would be. he scoffed. an open mouth smile on his face.

"jinnie" you mumbled, hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

"not now. not...here"

"please?" how could he deny you when you asked so nicely.

"is this how you plan on apologizing?" he whispered, just for you to hear.

"I didn't mean to do that..im sorry" you apologized, tugging his pants down just enough to reveal his waistband.

hyunjin coughed.

he pulled his camera out, snapping a somewhat blurry picture.

"you're just too drunk on my dick" he commented in a hushed voice. you blushed.

what could you do? he had a good cock...an amazing one and he knew how to use it. you nuzzled against him.

"its like your asking me to take more pics of you" he laughed quietly.

you remembered the last time.

.

.

"look at the camera" hyunjin said, holding the polaroid camera up in a way he could capture everything. his words never reached you.

how did he expect you to hear him? when you were stuffed full of his cock. he pushed your hands away from your face, choosing to pry your mouth open. shoving two fingers so far back, you gagged silently. tears slipping out.

he pressed himself deeper, snapping a pic. you closed your eyes as it flashed.

"good girl" he praised you, placing the camera down on the bed.

"so so so good for me" your heart swelled at how much he complimented you. everything about you.

[nanamis-baker]

"Not so Breakable, huh?"

Summary: You went on a mission without informing anyone, and well, Gojo is mad.

Content: 18+ mdni, Angry/Makeup sex, unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, Gojo's blindfold being used, choking, oral, and other stuff!

Word Count: 6.4k

a/n: I've been itching to write this for AGES, and now I finally had the time to do so! I can't wait for you to enjoy it! 🤍

Satoru's voice echoed through the room - not a shout, but a guttural roar. "How could you be so reckless?!" The words reverberated off the walls, shaking the very ground you were standing on. You stood toe-to-toe with him, nostrils flaring, your defiance burning in your eyes.

"Me? Reckless?" you shot back, mirroring his volume. "Satoru, it was my. mission!" Each word was punctuated with a jab of your finger towards him, desperate to break through his wall of anger. You waved your arms wildly towards your body, “Besides, I am not even hurt!”

You could feel the icy intensity of Satoru's eyes burning into you, even though his blindfold covered them. Not just anger, but a raw possession radiated from him. His rapid breath seemed to be laced with physical manifestation of his fury and worry, and a surge of curse energy crackled in the air between you.

He didn't respond to your words. Instead, he moved towards you. Each menacing step Satoru took sent a tremor through the room, causing you to step back. The floorboards groaned under his weight, the sound similar to terrified whimpers.

The air buzzed with emotions that transcended simple anger. It was raw, primal, and laced with something you couldn't quite define. His powerful frame loomed over you, blocking out the warm glow of the living room light, casting his shadow over you. You stepped back, your feet coming to a halt when you felt the cold wall brush against your back.

When he stopped just a hair's breadth away, your breath hitched. You could smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne and something else - something musky. You both stood frozen, locked in a silent battle of wills.

The tension in the air was so thick it felt like suffocation. He moved his arms, caging you between his muscular chest and the rough wall. You were trapped, not just by physical force, but by the intensity radiating from his very being.

"You went on a damn mission alone without even informing anyone!" His voice was a low growl against your ear, a storm brewing beneath the surface. It wasn’t just anger in his words - his words were laced with a raw, dominating edge that sent shivers erupting all over your body.

"A dsmn special grade mission, for God's sake!" he roared, the words a physical blow that vibrated through your chest.

This was impossible. Dealing with a special-grade cursed spirit solo was reckless, yes. You knew that. But Satoru was being overly protective. You were a grade-one sorcerer, trained to handle such threats. You weren't a fragile doll he could keep locked away.

Fury burned in your eyes, a mirror image of his own. You shook your head, defiance hardening your features until your jaw ached. Your fists clenched so tight your nails dug into your palms, drawing a bead of blood that you just ignored.

"The mission was an emergency," you spat, your voice barely above a whisper despite the roiling anger within you. "And I am not as breakable as you think  –"

"Cut the bullshit!" he snarled, cutting you off with brutality. His voice had dropped to a dangerous purr, sending a shiver down your spine that wasn't entirely from anger.

"I care only about the fact that you went ahead with it without even telling me," he continued, his voice low and dangerous. He was so close, you could feel his lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

The air between you pulsed with a raw, electric current, drawing your bodies closer despite the anger simmering between you.

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words wouldn't come. This was ridiculous. Satoru was being ridiculous. There was no way to escape his dominance, or was there?

Suddenly, in a move fueled by a mix of anger and a desperate need to assert yourself, you did something unexpected. You reached up and cupped the back of Satoru’s neck in your hands, tilting his head down to meet yours.

The kiss that followed wasn't a gentle one - a lover’s kiss. It was a clash of wills disguised as intimacy, fueled by your anger. Pouring your emotions into the kiss, you tried to communicate what he wasn’t willing to understand. You grabbed the front of his shirt, the fabric crumpling in your fist as you yanked him closer. Your lips met his in a battle for control, a fierce collision that sparked something electrifying within you.

There was a desperate need inside you - a simmering desire for something more that you were very familiar with.

Despite his initial shock, Satoru returned the kiss with equal fervour. His hands, previously braced against the wall, reached for you with a possessive hunger. One hand slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine with a searing touch that made your head tilt up, deepening the kiss. The other hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek, a silent demand for submission.

But you wouldn't submit. Not now, not entirely. You met his force with your own, pushing back against his kiss, your tongue a weapon mirroring the fierce need you felt deep in your core. A low growl rumbled from Satoru’s chest, a sound both primal and urgent.

The tension in the air changed and became something far more dangerous, fueled by your cursed energy and frustration. The kiss became a dance, a push and pull for control. Satoru deepened the kiss, stealing your breath away and weakening your resistance. You fought back, nipping at his lower lip, drawing a gasp from him. The taste of blood, metallic and sharp, ignited a new kind of heat between you, a heady mix of aggression and need.

The room faded away, replaced by the urgency of the moment. You were lost in the kiss, consumed by the raw emotions swirling between you. It was a fight, a dance, a desperate yearning all rolled into one. And as the kiss deepened, as both your anger and your desire reached a feverish pitch, you broke away, gasping for breath.

You looked at Satoru, taking in the rapid rise and fall of his chest against your fist. A beat of heavy silence stretched between you before Satoru spoke, his voice a husky rasp.

"Not so breakable, huh?" he murmured, repeating your words, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. It wasn't a question, but a statement accompanied by a hint of amusement. A slow smile spread across his face, causing the hair on your arms to rise up.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear, caressing the shell. "How about we put that to a test?" he whispered, the words soft like the calm before the storm.

With that, he threw you over his shoulders effortlessly, his strength leaving you breathless. A gasp escaped your lips, both from the sudden movement and the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Satoru’s hands caressed the back of your thighs, massaging the muscles as he made his way towards the bedroom. The touch almost felt like an apology as anticipation filled the air. 

Not even bothering to turn the lights on, he roughly tossed you onto the bed, with your back pressed against the cool sheets. His eyes were blindfolded, yet you could clearly picture the storm brewing in his cerulean eyes.

"Show me you mean it, then," you said breathlessly, your voice laced with challenge.

A slow smirk spread across Satoru's face, a hint of danger flickering in his voice as he replied, "Careful what you wish for, darling." Without wasting another moment, he was on top of you. The weight of his body was a powerful press that pushed you to the bed.

His hand gripped the back of your neck with a rough urgency before his lips met yours again, finishing what you started in the living room. Your hand tangled in his hair, pulling at the roots, the soft fabric of his blindfold a frustrating caress against your fingertips. Your other hand reached for his back, nails digging into the hard muscles as they travelled down, pulling him impossibility close, the heat of his body mirroring the fire burning in your core. Your fingers brushed against the hem of his shirt, slipping inside his shirt before lifting it up. You craved to feel his skin against yours

But Satoru was quicker. He grabbed your hand by your wrist, long fingers curling around it before pinning it to the mattress beside your head, keeping your hand in place. His touch was electrifying, a mix of frustration and raw awareness.

"Take it off," you mumbled against his lips, the command laced with barely contained anger. Satoru pulled back a fraction, his lips hovering a tantalising distance from yours. A slow smile played on his lips, his voice a husky purr. "So eager, huh?"

He didn't wait for a reply. Instead, his lips trailed down your jaw, his lips peppering wet kisses along the bone. A searing kiss landed on the pulse point at your neck, the heat of his breath igniting a fire within you. You moaned - a sound that was desperate for more, much more.

Satoru chuckled at your frustration, the sound clinging to your skin. He rained kisses down your neck and chest, moving your shirt away to trace the length of your collarbone. His teeth brushed against it, before he sucked hard, his teeth sharp against your skin, leaving his mark.

He went on, his lips moving with a slow, deliberate purpose over the barrier of your clothes. Each kiss felt like a tease, a promise of what was to come. His free hand slipped under your shirt, the fabric bunching beneath his touch, a flimsy obstacle that only heightened your growing desire.

"These are getting in the way," he murmured against your skin, referring to your shirt. His hands, strong and sure, began a slow exploration beneath the fabric, sending sparks flying wherever they touched. You arched your back into him, a whimper escaping your lips as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

The frustration was a delicious torture. You wanted him to rip the clothes away, to feel his bare skin against yours. But a strange pleasure arose from this slow, deliberate undressing. It was a battle of dominance, and for now, Satoru was the victor.

With a sigh that was half frustration, half surrender, you let your head fall back to the mattress. You knew you wouldn't win this fight, and in truth, a part of you didn't entirely want to.

Your shirt was bunched above your chest as Satoru worked off your bra, his fingers reaching behind your back to unclasp the material before sliding the straps off your shoulder. Cold air hit your bare chest as you felt a tightening sensation, your nipples pebbling up.

Satoru’s fingers danced over your buds, the touch feather- like, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips, a sound you couldn't quite control. He smirked at your desperation, “what is it, love?” He asked, “Want more than this?” as if to show what you could get, he pinched your nipple, causing a sharp gasp to leave your mouth.

“Fuck - Satoru I -” A strangled gasp escaped your lips as Satoru's lips brushed against your nipple, a whisper of heat that sent shivers down your spine. Then, teeth scraped against the sensitive peak, before he left a sharp bite on the skin. His tongue darted out - a wet caress soothing the sting. It was a delicious ache, a thrilling sensation that left you breathless.

He moved down your chest, savouring every inch of your body. Each nip, each suckle, left a raw ache in its wake, a desperate yearning blooming within you. You wanted more - more of this intense, bordering-on-painful pleasure that pushed you to the edge.

"Satoru," you gasped, your voice breathless - thick with desire and a hint of something darker. "Don't stop." The words were a plea, as you arched your back - an attempt to get more of this sensation - more of him.

“Don't worry, love” he said, before leaving a kiss right over his mark on your chest, “The night is still young.” Pain and pleasure clouded your senses, and by the time Satoru was done, your chest felt raw and so sensitive. 

The world narrowed down to Satoru; the feel of his lips against your skin as he left a hungry trail down your body, devouring every inch of your exposed flesh till he reached the waistband of your pants. You felt a tug at the fabric, your eyes widening as you realised his intentions.

"Wait!" you gasped, the word barely escaping your lips before there was a sharp rip. The sound echoed in the tense silence as Satoru tore your pants down the seam in a single, swift motion before removing the material and discarding it.

Heat flooded your face, a mix of fury and something else entirely. You opened your mouth to protest, but Satoru cut you off.

"Don't worry, love," he murmured against your thigh, before nipping at the skin of your inner thigh, "I'll get you something new. Hated them anyways."

Before you could even process his words, Satoru's strong hands parted your legs, settling between them. His hot breath brushed against your stomach as one of his hands wrapped around your thigh, keeping it open.

He didn't waste time. With a swift movement, he pushed your panties aside, his lips replacing the cool, wet fabric. The sudden shift in sensation was electrifying. A gasp ripped from your throat, a sound that mingled with a desperate moan. "Fuck, ‘Toru," you breathed, your voice thick with desire and a touch of surrender under his touch. Your hips instinctively bucked upward, seeking a deeper connection with his touch.

You could feel the smugness radiate from him. “Eager, are we?” He asked, before his tongue darted out and slowly traced the length of your slit, gathering your wetness, leaving a trail of saliva. Satoru then focused on your clit, sucking and licking, sometimes even biting it while his fingers teased your entrance, drawing agonising circles around it. 

Your eyes squeezed shut, a throaty moan leaving your chest. You knew Satoru was just getting started, but it already felt so intense - you could feel your orgasm building.

He continued this, but the pressure kept changing. Sometimes it was just a tender touch - a feather-light brush of his lips. The other times it was a hard, deliberate suck on your clit, his teeth nipping at your most sensitive spot. It was hot and cold, frustrating and maddening.

Your hands fisted the bed sheet by your head, the force enough to rip the expensive fabric.

Just as your core clenched, the first tremors of release building, Satoru's focus shifted. His mouth focused on your entrance as Satoru stiffened his tongue before plunging into you. His thumb tracing light, small circles over your clit, the touch a fleeting brush - never giving you what you wanted, but showing you what it could be. Testing you, testing how far you’d go before you broke. It was a constant reminder of what you craved just out of reach.

Your hands snaked down your body, a desperate attempt to claim the pleasure that danced just out of reach. Your fingers twitched towards your clit. But before you could find solace, Satoru's grip tightened on your wrist. He yanked your hand back, pinning it against your stomach. 

Satoru pulled back a little, blowing softly on your clit, the cool air a world away from the heat you felt, giving rise to goosebumps all over your skin. He left a soft kiss on your inner thigh as his finger continued their torturous dance over your heated skin.

Your toes curled and dug into his clothed back, urging him closer - to do something more, but Satoru wasn’t deterred. He kept teasing you, keeping you balanced on the knife’s edge.

Your senses were overloaded, the feathery touch of Satoru’s fingers on your skin so different from the firestorm building within. His silky hair brushed against your inner thigh, the ticklish sensation enhancing your pleasure. You arched your back, trying to escape the delicious agony, but Satoru kept you in place, his muscular arms tightening around your thigh.

"Satoru!" you gasped, your voice a desperate plea laced with a hint of something wilder. A single, sharp moan ripped through your throat, held back by a dam of rising pleasure that threatened to burst. You were close - so close.

Your hand, shaking with a strong need for release, reached out and tangled itself in his hair, your grip tight. You knew it would hurt - it had to. "What are you trying to do?" you hissed, the words laced with a breathless urgency.

Satoru pulled back, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, caressing it, “Patience love,” he said softly. “I am trying to show you something here.” with that, he left one final kiss on your clit before he started pulling away.

Your heels dug into his back, to prevent him from pulling back, but Satoru just pulled himself back, letting go of your hand before grabbing your ankles, pulling you down until you were teetering on the edge of the bed, your breath catching in your throat.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your clit throbbing, so desperate for a release. But before you could do anything, your eyes darted to the man in front of you. Moonlight glinted off his face, highlighting the wet glossiness on his lips. His hair, a tangled mess mirroring the tangled emotions between you, obscured the blindfold that had slipped a little. Despite the anger, despite the unresolved words, a raw truth hung in the air. He looked beautiful, even when he was a mess.

Satoru reached for your shirt that was bunched up over your chest. He pulled it over your shoulder, the soft fabric scraping against your burning skin. With ease, he manoeuvred your arms behind your back, before he took the discarded fabric and wrapped it around your wrists, twisting the fabric with cruel efficiency, transforming it into a makeshift handcuff.

A new wave of heat flooded in your core, accompanied by shock and a new challenge. "Oh really, Satoru?" you hissed, lifting your head to look at his face. “Did I intimidate you so much you had to tie me up?”

Satoru's grin promised both danger and exquisite pleasure. His hands moved to lift the blindfold, revealing eyes that encased a storm. The moonlight glinted off the sapphire irises, causing them to glow, but it was the rim around them, a ring of raw, unbridled desire, that stole your breath. It spoke of a hunger that mirrored your own, a hunger that was far greater than the anger simmering between you.

Somehow, in that single, electrifying moment, Satoru looked more dangerous and more tempting than ever before. His eyes invited you to fly too close to the sun- an invitation to a dance on the edge of control, and you were ready to take flight.

After the blindfold came off, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe as he whispered, “Oh love, you will not just be tied up.” With that, he lifted his blindfold over your head before lowering it down, covering your entire world in pitch darkness.

The sudden absence of light intensified the heat radiating from Satoru's body, his every breath a ragged whisper against your ear. You could feel him move away - the heat of his body disappearing, before he settled down on the bed beside you. 

His hands were on your thighs, pulling you so that you were straddling his lap, the strong muscles of his thigh hard against your sensitive skin. His hands were on your back, caressing the curve of your spine, his nails dug into your skin. A gasp escapes your lips - a mixture of pain and arousal - as wetness flooded between your legs. You were sure your back had the crescent shape of his nails branded into it. 

“You want to cum right?” he asked, as if he wasn’t painfully aware of your needs. 

You kept your mouth shut - not giving him the satisfaction he craved, but the tremble of your body against his - desperate for a release - gave away enough. “Ride me, darling.” he murmured, “Take whatever you need.” The words were a taunt - a challenge - one you were willing to take.

With that, he settled back, leaving you to do what you pleased; well, it wasn’t like you could do much. You settled yourself against the bulge of his pants, hissing as it rubbed against your throbbing core, the texture of his pants feeling oddly smooth. But you paid it no mind as you began rocking your hips back and forth, reigniting the flames in your core.

Your back arched, your head tilted back and you moved your hips against him, throaty, deep moans leaving your lips. Yet, something was different - weird even. You have done this countless times in the past, yet why was it so different this time? 

Your fingers itched again to toy with your clit - to get the friction you craved, but there was nothing you could do.

Frustration gnawed at your senses, reaching its peak when you could feel nothing, even as you increased your pace. Your thighs burned with exertion.

Satoru's hands were a constant presence on your back, tracing a lazy path over the length of your back. A sharp sting on your nipple jolted you; Satoru had pinched it - hard - you realised. “What is it, love?” Satoru asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence. “You seem to be having some trouble, hmm?”

You could see nothing, yet you could feel Satoru's eyes on you as a frustrated whimper escaped your lips. He was enjoying this - enjoying every damn second of your desperation.

“Satoru you-” just then it dawned on you. Why it felt as if you were riding nothing - why it had no texture, no form - because it was nothing, it was just emptiness.

Satoru was making you ride his infinity.

Your eyes widened behind the blindfold, a strangled cry erupting from your throat at the realisation. He was doing it on purpose - of course he was! Getting you worked up and needy, begging for him.

 The world was a frustrating blur of darkness and incomplete sensation. The phantom friction only amplified your desire, making you squirm against the sensation.

Satoru reached out, trailing his fingers down your folds, a slow, deliberate path that sent shivers down your bound arms. Every brush sent a wave of pleasure straight to your core, a promise of release dangerously close. But then, he'd withdraw, leaving you burning with a frustrated heat - Satoru's touch was a cruel tease, determined to push you over your limit.

"So close, aren't we, love?" he gently kissed your cheek, the touch as soft as a butterfly’s flutter. You could practically feel the smirk playing on his lips against your cheek.

"Satoru," you growled, the warning clear in your voice.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. "Feeling impatient, hm?" he cooed, his fingers brushing your inner thigh with a whispering touch, causing you to hiss and pull back slightly, but Satoru’s strong hands stopped you. 

“You should look at yourself right now,” he breathed against your neck, his words dripping with amusement as he described what you were unable to see. “Looking so pretty like this, riding nothing but air,” He sucked on your pulse, drawing a gasp out of you. “Making a mess all over me.” his fingers brushed against your core again, as if to prove his point.

Just after those words left his mouth, Satoru flipped you over so that you were on the bed with him on top. Without any warning, his fingers plunged into you and you groaned - finally, you could feel something - something tangible.

Satoru’s long fingers pumped inside you, his thumb drawing tight circles on your clit. Your wetness immediately coated his fingers. His fingers curled and twisted, the movement promising an intense release. Your breath came in short pants as Satoru quickened his pace, adding another finger inside you, stretching your walls. Your back arched to give him better access, encouraging him to go deeper.

“Fuck, Satoru, don’t hold back,” you panted, knowing he needed a little push. “Oh, not even planning to,” Satoru replied, twisting his fingers inside you, brushing against all your stops, the pressure delicious against your muscles. 

Your impending orgasm finally greeted you, igniting every cell in your body in its wake. You were screaming or crying - you didn’t know, as Satoru continued pumping his fingers into you, elongating your release.

But he didn’t stop once you were done. Satoru pumped his fingers inside you as he increased the pressure on your sensitive clit, bringing you so close to another intense orgasm. Your eyes rolled back into your head behind the blindfold. Your legs shook, your bound fists clenched behind your back as another wave of pleasure took over you, chants of Satoru’s name leaving your lips.

He went on, his fingers gliding in and out effortlessly. HIs long, slender fingers sent shivers down your spine with each deliberate stroke. Lost in a haze of pleasure, breathless whimpers and groans escaped your lips as your body arched for more. Undulated pleasure took hold, wave after wave washing over you. You felt yourself melting, boneless - a pile of blissful surrender under his touch.

By the time he was satisfied, you were a mess. Your core was so sensitive - like a live wire, a bundle of exposed nerves. Your throat ached as pleasure coursed inside your vein, making your skin burn. Satoru held you close against his warm body as you struggled to catch your breath, before he leaned down and whispered, “We aren’t done yet, love.”

“But Satoru -” you began, but Satoru placed a finger over your lips, silencing you. “Shh, you have got some more in you - I know it.”

With that, he moved away, the rustle of fabric greeting your ear. He was undressing, you realised. The situation felt weirdly ironic. Here you were sitting on the bed, completely bare for his eyes - at his mercy, yet you couldn’t even see him.

As if sensing your thoughts, Satoru said, “Don't worry, sweetheart,” his hands brushed against your ankles, “You'll get what you want soon.”

You parted your legs, giving Satoru the space he needed as he settled closer to you, the mattress shifting under his weight.You could feel his tip against your sensitive core, a hiss leaving your lips as you lifted your hips, trying to get more of him.

Satoru moaned at the sensation, a sound that resonated through you. He pressed a hand on your lower stomach, forcing your hips down before he reached back, undoing the bonds of your hand. 

A sigh of relief left your lips as you reached out, ignoring the stiffness of your muscles. Your hands found his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.

Satoru's warmth enveloped you, his cologne a heavy presence in your senses. His tip brushed against your clit. Satoru used his cock to gather your wetness, before he found your entrance, plunging into you with a force that left you breathless.

Satoru’s pained hiss filled your ears as your walls clamped down around his sensitive length, eager for all of him. But before he completely settled inside you, Satoru stilled, moving inside you with short, shallow movement. He moved deliberately, each thrust a calculated tease designed to send you spiralling.

The frustration that had been simmering all night boiled over, coursing through your veins. You had enough of his teasing, and with a surge of newfound power, you wrapped your legs around his hips, hands gripping the back of his neck. In a smooth motion, you flipped the two of you, taking control, Satoru still nestled deep inside.

“What are you doing, love?” Satoru questioned, the sudden change in positions taking him by surprise. You moved over him, your walls squeezing around his length, causing Satoru to moan. “Taking what I need, honey” you answered breathlessly, using his own words against him. Your hands travelled up his chest, brushing against taut muscles, before moving over his shoulder and wrapping your hands around his throat. You squeezed his neck, the touch powered by the anger and frustration you felt all evening.

A moan ripped from Satoru’s chest, the sound vibrating against your hand as your hips pistoned against his. His hand tightened on your hip, providing stability to your thrusts. His other hand, a searing brand, traced a path up your side, sending shivers cascading down your spine. Reaching your blindfold, he paused, his fingers lingering on the cool fabric before he lowered it, the fabric hanging around your neck.

The darkness lifted, revealing Satoru. His eyes burned with a desire and need that mirrored the simmering anger in your gut. His hair was a mess of damp tendrils clinging to the flushed skin of his face. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, mirroring your own. His chest heaved with short, ragged breaths, evidence of the effect you had on him. Your gaze finally landed on his lips, where a smirk played. 

This fucker was enjoying this.

Your grip around his throat tightened, watching as his skin turned a deeper shade of pink. You quickened your pace over him, your head thrown back in a gasp as intense pleasure coursing through your body.

Satoru’s grip on your hips tightened further, controlling your movement, making you bounce on his cock. A gasp escaped your lips as his other hand found your throat and squeezed, a shocking contrast to the gentle brush of his thumb against your pulse point. For a moment, the world narrowed to his touch, the pressure building a delicious tension in your chest.

“So pretty, love.” His words were like fuel, feeding the growing fire of pleasure inside you. His eyes raked over your body, lingering on your chest - the reddened patches of skin, each one a map of his touch. The marks he left burned under his gaze, like flames dancing over your skin.

His hand left your throat and the pressure on your throat vanished, replaced by a gasp as you gulped in air, your pace becoming frantic. The room was filled by the sound of moans and skin slapping against skin. 

You felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure threatening to crash over you. With a gasp, you arched your back, tightening around Satoru's hardness. A hiss escaped his lips as his grip on your hips tightened further. His nails dug in, drawing sharp, red lines across your skin, his desperate urgency that mirrored your own.

Satoru’s finger reached down, travelling between the valley of your chest, over your stomach before reaching your aching clit. His finger danced a maddeningly rhythm over your bud, each circle a deliberate tease. Anticipation coiled tighter with every caress, a pressure building in your core that threatened to explode. “Cum for me, love,” he murmured, a barely concealed tremor in his voice. When he flicked and pinched your clit, a gasp ripped from your lips.

The dam broke. Pleasure surged in a white-hot wave, crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls spasmed, clenching down on Satoru with a pulsing intensity. Your back arched so high you felt bone strain, your breath a ragged cry clawing its way out of your throat. You crawled at Satoru’s chest, leaving red, angry marks all over his glistering skin.

The aftershock of your release left you breathless, clinging to Satoru for support, your face buried in his chest. But before you could completely bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, Satoru shifted. With ease, he flipped you onto your hands and knees.

He shifted behind you, leaning down to press a kiss on your sweaty temple. His voice was a low rumble against your ear as your eyes met. "Enjoyed that, sweetheart?" He smirked, but the glint in his eyes held a different promise. He hovered at your entrance, the tip of him a torturous brush against your heated core.

"Because," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "it's my turn now." Without a warning, he plunged into you again, this time from behind, taking control over your body. 

You whimpered - it felt too much. But it also felt so good.

Satoru leaned down, his hands cupping your throat, pulling you towards him. He placed a kiss on your forehead, his hands digging into your lower back, urging you closer. A shudder wracked your body, the aftershocks of your release battling the building heat within you.  

"You're doing so well," he rasped out. "Just one more," his lips moved against your cheek, a hint of desperation lacing his voice. "Can you manage that, love?"

Exhaustion gnawed at your limbs, but the raw desire in his voice was impossible to resist. You could only nod, your body already betraying your mind as he surged back into you.

His hand reached for the blindfold hanging around your neck, grabbing it. You sucked in a breath, a thrill shooting through you, already knowing what was about to come. Satoru’s hand twisted around the blindfold, tightening it, cutting off your oxygen. Your blood rushed to your face as his other hand grabbed the front of your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp, tugging at your roots.

He used the blindfold and the grip on your hair to leverage your body, controlling your movements, moving you back and forth on his cock. Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of overwhelming sensation and exhilaration. Your body moved instinctively against his, lost in the delicious friction he had created.

Satoru's grip on your hair intensified, pulling your head up. “Fuck love, you take me so well” he groaned. his movements became erratic, fueled by his own rising desire. His gasps filled the space between you, mirroring your own quickening breaths. You could feel the frantic beat of his heart echoing against your back

A surge of heat flared low in your abdomen, spreading outwards in a delicious wave. Your walls instinctively clenched around him, mirroring the tightening grip of his hand around the blindfold. You squeezed your eyes shut, overwhelmed by a tsunami of sensations - the press of his body, the unrestricted sounds of his pleasure, the exquisite friction building within you and the way he filled you.

Your orgasm finally took over you - over every muscle in your body, leaving a white - hot fire burning in its wake. It felt as if your senses had stopped working, the intensity of your release replacing everything. Your breath hitched in your throat, replaced by a guttural moan that tore from your lips.

Satoru hissed behind you, his movement becoming jerky as his length pulsed inside you, “So close -  love” he choked out, gasping, before you felt his warm cum filling you up. He shuddered, his body mirroring yours as his own orgasm greeted him.

Satoru continued pumping into you, pushing and burying his release deep inside you - where it belonged. He pulled out, using his cock to gather the cum and wetness leaking out of you, before pushing it back into you, stuffing you up completely.

He held you close, his ragged breaths mingling with yours. The world faded away, leaving only the press of his body and the aftershocks of pleasure reverberating through you. “See what you do to me?” he asked, still pulsing inside you, before pulling you in for a kiss.

Satoru's fingertips traced lazy circles over your bare back, his fingers cool against your heated skin. You nestled deeper into his chest, the crisp scent of fresh bed sheets and his bodywash calming your senses.

"You did so good today, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. You could hear the tenderness, the unmistakable pride lacing his words - You knew he wasn’t just talking about the events that took place moments before.

Confused, you lifted your head, meeting his gaze. The question forming on your lips died in your throat as he pressed a finger against them, a playful glint in his sapphire eyes. "Let me finish, okay?" he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips while his eyes pleaded you to remain quiet - to let him say what he was thinking.

Your hand instinctively wrapped around his, a silent invitation for him to continue. His other hand brushed through your damp hair, still wet from the shower. "Taking on a special grade curse all alone? Without even a scratch?." His voice hushed with awe, "You're incredible, love."

A blush crept up your neck. You knew you were more than capable - you had trained hard to reach where you are today - but hearing it from Satoru sent warmth through you. You knew he wasn’t saying it just for the sake of it - he genuinely meant it. "It wasn't that big of a deal," you said, trying to deflect his praise, ignoring the warmth blooming in your chest.

He chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound. Then, his expression turned serious. "Seriously, though, next time something like that happens, just let me know, alright?” he asked, cupping your face, your eyes meeting his. “Even a quick text would do."

The playful glint returned to his eyes. "Besides," he added, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face, "it wouldn't be any fun if I don’t show up every now and then, saving your ass" 

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing in the quiet room. You playfully yanked his arm “It was just once!” you said, the laughter still bubbling out of you. 

But you knew he was right, knew he just wanted to be there for you, to offer his strength when you needed it most.  "Alright," you conceded, a smile gracing your lips. "Whenever something like this happens again, I will let you know."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth spreading through you. "Good," he said, before pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your temple.

Your eyelids felt heavy - the day’s fatigue finally caught up to you. You nestled in Satoru’s arm as sleep pulled you into its comforting embrace.

a/n: Ahhh, writing smut is always SO difficult but so fun lol. I hope you enjoyed this!

Dividers by @/cafekitsune!

[hobiebrownismygod]

can you do a fic where 42!miles gets hurt after you two had a big argument and now you have to clean him up while still mad at him?? sorry if this didn't make sense

yess!! This is so cute I love it!! Thx for requesting <3

TW: BLOOD, mention of being hurt/wounds, use of Y/N in place of reader's name, very very slight angst (mostly fluff)

___________

Click

You locked your window and pulled the curtains closed with a huff. Your phone was silenced, your door was locked and you had promised yourself that no matter what, you were ignoring him.

Complete silent treatment.

The two of you had had a pretty big argument (and you could barely even remember how it'd started) so of course, you decided to be petty and pretend he didn't exist.

He always tried to make it up to you when you fought, climbing in through your window late at night, with a bouquet of hand-picked flowers or a movie he rented for the two of you to watch.

He'd be pretty silent about it, pretty nonchalant, and he'd plop down beside you on the bed and hold you. Not a word would be exchanged. And you'd always forgive him.

Not this time though. You were too mad.

So you decided you'd sit down, do your homework, and if you heard a knock at your window you'd simply pretend it never happened.

He could take care of himself.

You weren't going to be his little nurse. Not tonight.

But then of course...you were never one to leave him hanging.

It'd barely been fifteen minutes from when you'd started your homework when you heard a quiet knock at your window. You ignored it.

And then he knocked again. This time, you hesitated. You wanted to open it, you really did...but you didn't. No. You had to stand your ground. You weren't going to give in.

"Y/N" you heard his voice. The tapping on the window got louder, sloppier. "Y/N!" his voice was hoarse, not quiet and playful like usual. It was different.

But you stayed silent. You weren't going to let him in, you promised yourself.

"Y/N, please." You dropped your pencil. His voice was just a whisper now and you could barely hear it outside the locked window. He tapped one more time. "I'm hurt."

You felt chills on your neck and you immediately walked towards the window, pulling the curtains open. There he was, crouching against your balcony. His Prowler mask was on, his gauntlets were hanging off his hands.

And his shirt was soaked in blood.

You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight. He reached his arm up with a pained groan, pulling his mask off. His brow was soaked in sweat, his face glistening slightly in the moonlight. "Please." he mouthed.

Robotically, you pulled open the window. You took his arm and helped him in, and he basically collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.

You helped him sit up, his back pressed against the wall. You quickly got to work, like you always did when he showed up in pain, grabbing your first-aid kit from underneath your bed and snapping it open quietly.

He winced as you began cleaning his wounds, pulling his shirt up so you could get to where the blood was coming from. He had a slash right across his stomach, blood gushing out in ribbons of red. It was never-ending.

You pressed an old t-shirt to the wound, trying your best to make some sort of tourniquet to stop the flow of the blood before pouring the rubbing alcohol over it. He covered his mouth with his hand and groaned, eyes squeezing shut, tears prickling the edges.

As you worked, he fell completely silent. You did too, too focused on keeping him alive to notice his eyes on you.

Not a word was exchanged.

Then a quiet, "Are you still mad at me?"

You looked up for a moment, eyes meeting his as he stared at you. They were hooded, but filled with sadness. He tilted his head back, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he blinked, still keeping his eyes on yours.

He looked like he wanted to say something. He didn't.

So neither did you.

But after another moment,

"I'm sorry."

It was just a whisper, so quiet you'd barely even heard it, but it meant so much. You felt your eyes tear up and you refused to look at him, continuing to gently work on his wounds.

"Say something." he whispered, pushing your hands off of him and sitting up. He grabbed your arms, holding your hands in his. "Please. Anything. I'm-I'm sorry."

You looked at him, taking a shaky breath. Suddenly, you jumped towards him, practically melting into his arms when they wrapped around you.

And just like that...everything felt better.

"Ow-" he winced as you accidentally put pressure on his sore wound, and you immediately shifted yourself, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I-I'm sorry. You shouldn't be sorry, I'm sorry." he stammered, taking your face in his hands as gently as he could. He smiled slightly, wiping away the remnants of tears in the corners of your eyes. "Are you crying?"

"No!" you quickly responded, pulling back. "I just-I just-"

"It's okay. You can cry" he said with a grin, sitting up again with a grunt.

"I'm not crying because of the argument, you jerk." you said with a huff. "I-I just hate seeing you like this. I get scared." your voice sounded so small in the moment, it was like a completely different person had appeared.

His gaze softened. "I see." He gestured for you to come back towards him and you did, resting your head against his chest as he held you close. "Thank you. For letting me in." he whispered, kissing the top of your head gently, his lips lingering for a moment longer than usual.

"Of course." you replied with a smile, looking up at him with crinkled eyes. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am." he said, returning the smile before giving you a gentle kiss, hands cupping your face as he pulled you close. You giggled before snuggling up to him a little closer, making sure to be careful not to graze his still sensitive cuts.

"So you're not mad at me anymore?" he asked tentatively, closing his eyes as he buried his face in your neck. You stayed silent for a moment and you could swear you felt his heart drop when you didn't respond.

You grinned. "No. I'm not mad anymore." He chuckled, nervously almost. "You had me there for a second." he whispered, kissing your cheek gently.

"I am sorry though."

"What for?"

He froze. "For...for the argument."

"What part of the argument?"

He stayed silent and you couldn't help but laugh. So he'd forgotten how it'd started too. Funny.

"I forgot too, Miles. Don't worry."

He breathed out a sigh of relief and laughed, tilting his head back. "Jesus, you scared me."

"Not as bad as you scared me, knocking on my window like that. There's blood everywhere" you said with a frown, glancing back towards the window.

He pulled your head back gently. "Don't look at the blood, just look at me. We can worry about that later, yeah?"

You smiled, nodding before hugging him again. His fingers brushed through your hair as he held you close, breathing matching yours. A tender moment.

"I love you, you know that right?" he asked softly, lips moving to kiss your forehead one more time.

"I know, Miles. I love you too."

_______

🥺🥺🥺 im gonna cry

why did I write this it literally hurts how cute it is

:((

hopefully you liked this anon!!

______

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