#like they don't commit aggressions every day

[idiotmf]

Alien who loves your skin

NSFW, MDNI

Content: Fully gender neutral reader, slow fucking

Alien boyfriend who is obsessed with touching your skin. Bonus points if you have skin imperfections for him to be amazed about.

He gets super excited when you shave because “it's so smooth!!” But he also doesn't care if you don't, because, look! You can grow fur!

He endlessly traces scars, as if he's trying to feel every little thing, committing it to memory. 

Sometimes he touches your skin, then his own, and then yours again, marveling at how different you are. You're so soft, squishy, and cute!

He'll trace your skin while slowly thrusting into you, his claws carefully teasing your sensitive spots, making you writhe in pleasure and frustration at his slow pace. 

He's not an aggressive lover most of the time, but he does enjoy teasing you quite a lot—the look on your face when you can't get enough, the way your hips shake to try and get his alien cock deeper into you.

He'll let you wriggle for a while but then grabs your hips, his thumb-like claws softly stroking your skin as he holds you still for more slow torture. 

He loves the way your skin flushes as you moan out, and your voice is another thing he loves about you. 

Sometimes, he'll flip you over and fuck your hole from behind; it's something you showed him in the hopes he would go feral on you. It turns out he does love the position, but only because you make such cute mewling sounds when he doesn't give you what you want.

These days, he just slow-fucks you while sensually tracing your beautiful back and watching those cute goosebumps erupt all over your skin. 

He revels when your orgasm builds, your body writhing in need, trying so desperately to get more but he's denying you, pounding into your puffy hole for hours with excruciatingly slow movements, almost carefully so, but deep enough to hit all of your favorite spots. 

You don't know if it's despite the painfully slow pace or because of it, but every orgasm feels more shaking than the last, leaving you not only panting but wanting more, and he'll give you exactly that. His pace switches quickly, leaving you just enough time to let out a small yelp before he starts that punishing pace that makes you see stars, just before he cums inside of you, the slightly bioluminescent seed painting your beautifully smooth thighs, as he makes sure to touch your skin some more and let you know just how pretty you are, calling you his favorite star in the galaxy.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

executive orders

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)

“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”

“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.

“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”

“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.

“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”

you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.

“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.

“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”

“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.

“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.

“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”

his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.

“i hate being called sir.” he says.

“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.

“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”

your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.

you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.

“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”

“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.

you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”

“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”

“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.

just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.

when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”

“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”

“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”

“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.

“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder. 

you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.

“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.

“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can. 

“hey!”

“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.

“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.

rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.

“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.

“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.

you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.

“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”

you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.

--

you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.

“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”

rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.

serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.

“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.

“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”

“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”

rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.

“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.

“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”

“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”

“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”

“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.

“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.” 

you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.

-- two months later --

“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.

“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.

“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”

“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.

“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”

you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”

you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.

“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”

“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”

“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.

you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.

“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”

“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”

“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.

“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”

“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”

“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”

“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.

“all good?” he questions.

“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.

“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.

“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”

--

“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.

“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.

“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”

“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.

“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”

“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”

“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”

“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.” 

“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”

you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”

you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.

you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.

“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.

“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.

when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”

“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”

“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”

rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.

you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.

“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”

“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.

you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.

“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.

“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”

“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”

“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”

“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”

“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.

“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.

you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.

rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”

“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.

“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”

“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”

“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.

“more kissing. more… more.”

rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.

the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”

“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.

you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist. 

the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.

“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.

you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.

“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”

rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.

he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.

“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.

“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.

you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.

“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.

rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.

“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”

you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.

your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.

“lay down, please.” rafe says.

you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.

he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.

“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.

you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.

“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.

“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.

rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.

“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”

you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.

“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.

“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”

“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”

you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.

you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.

you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.

“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.

you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.

“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.

“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.

“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.

“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.

you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.

he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.

you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.

-- four years later --

“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.

“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”

“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”

[renku]

Smoothie

Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader

tags: smut, public sex

Everything was supposed to be normal, as agreed upon. But for Sana, things—especially ordinary ones—should be switched up if opportunity presents itself (more like whenever she's in the mood to do so).

Oversized white tee covered her shorts. Sexy thighs out in the open. The notion about her cute yet sexy is a fact. Doesn't matter if she tries to conceal it or not. Those glasses were the cherry on top to the overall fit—plain simple—that gets onto your nerves but still feasting on the sight of it.

The cold, sweet strawberry smoothie tastes fantastic, as Sana continues to invade your mouth in a sloppy French kiss. Soul getting sucked out of your body; an aggressive yet passionate, sinful act.

It never occured once in you that a person completely out of this world would even look your way. Random escapes during night, making excuses to other members, and anything she could come up as a reason just to meet you is still a mystery yet a part of you was glad. You mean, it's Sana, who wouldn't not want that kind of efforts?

Your raging member was already out from its constraints as Sana jerks it off in such a playful way. No established pace was even given in the first place: fast then slow, fast, faster, then slower. It's torture but one you would enjoy everytime.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait. We're back in business after tonight and it would take me days before I can spend another time with you," said Sana.

Words won't even form in your mouth as Sana's hand is focused on your dripping head. Heat increasing as friction is present between your tip and her finger.

The odds were in your favor tonight, not a single soul was passing by where Sana currently commits her crime. It was cold, but both of you are in heat. She grabbed your hand, bringing its presence to her awaiting warmth. Sana's shorts were already down by the time she did this.

"Touch me, and just do your magic on me. Don't say a word. That's when I like you the most."

And just like a man under a spell, you did what she said. Every word. You brushed her folds but focused on her aroused bud. Along with her sweet moans comes her juices flowing out, coating every nook and inch of your fingers. Soon enough, two fingers slipped inside her keyhole, doing the work of unlocking her sweet pleasure.

Breaths and moans filled the space between you and Sana, getting shorter and shorter.

"Oh, God. Yes, that's it."

Sana wants to remained composed even at times like this, even you knew she wanted to scream it all out how good she feels.

With a tight hug to you, she came. Hugging you was the signal that she already had her sweet release. She looked into your eyes, satisfied yet signs were obvious. She wants more—that feeling. The sensation of you being inside her as you make love to her before going to just pure, rough fucking.

And she can't wait. She slowly turned around before bending and lifting the hem of her shirt from the back; exposing that lovely bare pussy and cake right before your own eyes.

As a true man, you willingly obliged to what she wants.

Aiming your cock at her entrance, you pushed inside as it was the first time doing it—relishing what her pussy feels like. Time to the deed, Sana doesn't want to be keep waiting.

Her hips felt your hands, as a steady pace rocks her body.

"Fuck," she said in a dreamy, almost whispering voice. She felt your thing twitch inside her as if it stretches out her insides. The clapping sounds made by the contact of her butt and your lower abdomen were always a music to her ears. She wants more of it , more of you.

Low groans escaped from you as go faster bit by bit. The stream of cold air gave you goosebumps as it made you feel more of Sana's heat.

"Yes, fuck me! Give me all you got before the night ends. I want it all!"

Without even blinking an eye, drilling her hole went faster, fueling that familiar sensation in your groin. You want this to last longer but for the sake of not getting caught in public, it's time to finish the business. Pounding her like a madman, and making one last pull, you erupted inside her. Filling her with all of your cum that some of it slowly escapes her freshly fucked pussy.

After making sure she got it all, you pulled out with an intense feeling of satisfaction. Watching her body heave from the sex she got.

She stood up straight before turning around to face you, smiling. Oh, that smile!

"I didn't notice that I dropped my smoothie, but I got better one anyway," Sana said.

"We should fix ourselves, miss," you replied. "We can't afford to be seen looking like this."

Sana giggled, "You're cute!"

In the end, you just sighed as a mark of defeat. "What am I going to do with you?"

A/N: Pretty plain but need to start somewhere again somehow. Have a good day, folks. Stay safe!

[eyesxxyou]

My Hero

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. until you find your life in danger because you stole something you shouldn't have

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, a bit of sub!hobie, riding, reverse cowgirl, oral (m receiving) a bit of anal play not much though, hobie being kinda whiny and needy.

You always had a way of coming back into Hobie’s life when he needed you to the very least. Just when he was beginning to think that maybe he wasn’t head over heels obsessed with the Black Cat as he thought he was, that he’d be able to look at you one day and not have the irresistible urge to kiss you and take you wherever the two of you might be, whether you be allies or enemies that day. He’d think that smile of yours, filled with chaos and mischief, framed in the silver fangs of your piercings, was just like any other, and that he didn’t have every inch of your body committed to memory.

Then you’d pop back up from wherever you spent your down time and bring back with you all the emotions he thought he had discarded in the rubbish bin down the street as well as your usual additional bullshit that he always played his own part in. That’s how you ended up in his very own bed, his real bed, the one he sleeps in every night, in just a thong and a baby tee that says 'I love (the love is a heart) to make men cry' as your hair now black as the night sky.

He never told you where he lived. No one would have assumed that the vigilante Spider-Man would live on a canal boat. But you were smart, crafty. If anyone were to figure it out, it would have been you.

Hobie was just swinging back on to his docked boat when he felt the familiar tingle of his spidey-senses going off. The prickling of his hair standing as his body moved by its own fruition. He leapt out of the way just before one of your knives could catch him. It came from overhead, the top of his boat where you perched yourself. The knife lodged itself in the wooden deck between his booted feet and he looked up at you.

There it was. All those feelings. They disgusted him but he loved you. He loved your slightly violent ways of showing love that never leave him wounded for long. Your usually pure white hair now raven black in wild curls, bad luck and even worse intentions radiating off of you. The smallest twinkle of fondness in your eyes as you look at him with that grin of yours.

“You always gotta try ‘n kill me every time we meet?” Hobie asks you at you drop down from your perch in front of him with the agility of a cat and snatch up your knife from his deck. You’re in regular clothes with a duffle bag tossed over your shoulder and cat-ish makeup on your pretty face. “I never try to kill you, hon. Just testing your reflexes.” You tucked your knife away, Your hand coming to rest on his chest affectionately. “Miss me, Bee?”

Always. “‘Aven’ crossed ma min’, luv.” He spoke gruffly. You looked up at him with knowing eyes. “I missed you too.” You got up on your toes, your hand coming to the nape of his neck to pull him close and kiss him, a friendly hello to make up from your aggressive one. Hobie kissed you back immediately, didn’t even have to think about it, how body did all the work for him. He knew he should be asking questions. How the fuck did you figure out where he lived for one. But oh— it’s like you knew that kissing him would make him nice, malleable, agreeable, and dumb. Hobie’s not dumb. He’d wise up quick so you had to beat him to the punch.

“I need your help, Hobes.” You murmured against his lips before he kissed you once again in sloppy play fighting with your tongues. “I’m in trouble.”

“When are you no’?” He left out in a slight breathless chuckle, finally pulling away. Wised up. “Wha’cha do?”

You nipped softly at your bottom lip, containing a slight smile. But if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of fear behind those eyes. “I stole something I shouldn’t have.”

“Those are the only thin’ worth stealin’.”

“Bad people are after me, Hobie, and I need a place to lay low for a little bit.” Your lips twitched a little. Yes, definitely fear. “I need help and I heard Spider-Man is in the business of helping people.” It was definitely a shot at your pride. You hated admitting you needed help, spent years drowning because you denied everyone's attempts to throw you a life raft. Hobie knew you’d rather stab yourself in the foot. And that meant this was serious.

"Come on, le's ge' inside."

And that's why you're here in his bed, because the fear of being suffocated in your sleep in your own home left you paranoid. Hobie settled down beside you in his narrow bed with his arm tossed behind his head, the action pulling his shirt up just enough to reveal his naval and that beautiful happy trail leading down his low-hanging sweatpants. "Wha'cha take?"

"Nosey much?" Yet, you cozied up right beside him in his rather cushy bed. You liked the way he smelled, like musk and sweat and the faint hint of faded body wash. Some days, depending on the activities, he smelt metallic, like blood, and you loved that even more. You love his sharp, stoic beauty. Loved his hair and the unmarked flesh of his neck that was usually either bruised or cut in some way. Sometimes done by your own hand.

Hobie's hand was on your thigh, the pads of his fingers messaging your flesh as he looked at your face, dimly lit by the waning moonlight reflecting off the broad ocean and glittering into your face. Your lips were wet, full, pouty. Your eyes sharp and piercing. He could see the pretty peaks of your nipples beneath your shirt. He wanted to run his thumb across them, call you his pretty girl. Mumble into your mouth incoherent words of ignorant admiration. "You came t'me, lovie. I feel I gotta righ' to know wha' kinda trouble you're in."

You two couldn't keep your grubby paws off of each other, always stealing touches, slight caresses like you two were fooling anyone. Every fluid movement between you two, always playing off each other's last, was done like something of a ritualistic dance. You take something from him, he takes it back, whether by hand or by web, you get up close and with both of your quick instincts you're fighting over the objects of your desire, seeing who's wit will prevail in the end. Your banter often followed the same routine.

"Well, I feel I have the right to reserve that info. Jus' do your job, pretty boy. Keep me safe so people don't come and ruin this pretty face you like so much." You pull him close and place a soft kiss on his slender cheek before dropping the matter all together. "But— I am very grateful for your kindness. My hero." You press your lips against the shell of his ear, peppering kisses against his skin.

You shuffled about in his bed, maneuvering between his legs with your hands against his sweatpants to pull them down. "I want to thank you."

Hobie let out a breathy chuckle as you worked to pull his cock out from his pants. "I don't need thanks, par' of ma job, but I won' refuse one." Not with lips like yours and a sharp tongue that could turn so, so soft when put to good use.

Your hands held his half-hard cock, twitching with the pumping blood that made him grow harder by the second, and you stroked him softly, gathering saliva to spit on his tip and spread down his length. Hobie shuttered under your touch, looking down at you through hooded lids as his tongue poked out to wet his lip then nip at it. "Go easy." He murmured, knowing he mercilessly beat his cock earlier to the thought of you, not knowing when he might see that pretty body of yours again.

You always start so slow, feigning a sort of innocence about the way you kiss his leaking tip and suckle on it as you look up at him through your long lashes. You'd keep going on like this forever if you had the choice but Hobie was impatient and restless. Grunting with pleasure and disapproval, he'd tuck his fingers in the curls of your hair and get a nice, firm grasp before pushing your head down further.

You'd relent, let your jaw slack so he could sink his cock further into your mouth, the sensitive tip of his dick dragging across the plain of your tongue. He'd let out something of a strangled, choking whimper before biting his lip. "Fuckin'-" He'd let out in a breathy moan as his head would fall back and he'd guide you head up and down the length of his cock.

It happened every time and this was no different other than the slight way from the waves rocking the boat. His fingers were in your hair, guiding your movements as his dick slid along your tongue against your throat. "Goo', kitty." He stroked your head and pulled your head away to stroke the tip of his cock against your saliva-coated lips.

You took him all the way to the hilt, let him settle down your throat before swallowing. It drove him crazy, made him shiver as he pressed your face to his pelvis and coaxed you to do it again. You swallowed and swallowed before pulling your head back and swirling your tongue against the head of his cock. You bobbed your head at a nice, steady pace, reveling in every hiss that escaped his dark, pretty lips.

He was losing himself to you, to that mouth, to that dark gaze of yours. Head like this made him fall in love. Made him completely mad for you. And oh, you were bad, so bad and he needed you. He needed to be inside you, needed you in top of him.

Hobie moaned softly. "Come'ere." He pulled you off his cock and pulled you up the length of his body.

You kissed him, hand stroking his length in gentle strokes while you sat on his thighs. His tongue found yours, your teeth nipped at his full lip. "You like to pretend you don't miss me but you gotta miss head like that."

"You have no idea, luv."

You climbed further on top of him, kneeling above him with your hands caressing the sides of his pretty face. "Just lay back and let me thank you, hmm? I'm not always so grateful." You pushed him back against his few pillows. Hobie lied with a hand behind his head, watching as you got up and turned around to give him a nice view of your ass from behind.

You pulled your thong to the side, that pretty pussy of yours on display for him, nice and wet. You reached back and took him into you hand to drag the thick of his cock between your pussy lips, stroking your aching clit with his tip. You got him nice and wet with the creamy juices of your cunt before lining him up against your wanting entrance.

He slid in so nicely, the tip stretched your nether lips apart. Your back arched subtly as you pushed your ass back more and let him sink deeper within you. Hobie pulled a single hand from behind his head and grabbed a handful of your ass to get a better view,

That pussy of yours could make a grown man weep. So wet, so tight, so mind-numbingly soft. You knew how to move your hips in just the right fashion to make him want to cum inside every single time. Just the sight of your lips hugging his cock was enough to make him crumble in ways no other could make him. He’s whimpered for you for fucks sake and one rested in his throat right at this very moment.

You sat in his lap with his member sitting snugly in you. You rocked your hips nice and slow, circling in a way that left you shuddering. Hobie squeezed your ass then smacked it with a sharp swing of his palm. “Don’ start teasin’ now, kitty. Show me.” He pressed his hand against your lower back just enough to get a nice view of his cock inside of you. His thumb rubbed circles against your asshole and earned him something of a whimper.

You placed your hands on his thighs as leverage and raised your hips, moaning at the feeling of his thick cock dragging against your sensitive walls. You went until only the tip remained before sitting back down and taking him in once more.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" The last one was long and drawn out as you felt him nuzzle against your cervix and press against that soft place in your walls that made you grip his thighs tight and need him a little more.

Hobie cupped your ass with his hand, this thumb still tentatively rubbing circles against your tight rim of muscles as you took him over against and again. That pretty pussy of yours so idyllic it looked more like a fleshlight than anything. It gripped him like a vice, like a sin, oh you were such a sin and you felt so good.

"Shit, luv– fuck. Treatin' me good f'once aren'cha?"

You rose until your pussy let him go with a nice, wet pop and swiftly turned around to straddle him as you were before. "I can treat you so much better, Hobes." You reached back, let him take your cunt again and watched his face as his brows furrowed and his mouth fell open with the beginnings of a moan.

Your eyes rolled back as he entered you fully, lids fluttering. You stroked his head and rutted your hips against his own, your clit stroking against his pelvis. You moaned softly, looking down at his pretty face looking equally as fucked out.

Hobie's hands grappled at your hips, thighs, and ass, unsure of where he wanted his hands the most. "Keep fuckin' me like tha'." His hands finally settled on your waist, forced you up and down on his cock like his personal sextoy. His hands were under that little baby tee you were wearing, squeezing handfuls and fondling your breasts.

Hobie's head rolled back, his eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure of it all. With a pussy like this, if you asked him to give up being Spider-Man, he would. With a pussy like this, you could ask him anything and he'd agree with you. So nice and tight and wet. He could feel that slick of yours dribbling down his length, rolling in clear pearls over his balls.

You grabbed his jaw and forced him to look at you. "Keep those eyes on me, Bee. Pretty eyes like those, I wanna see'em." Those eyes that look at you in a hooded daze, not a thought in that brain of his just you, you, you. His hands stroked the sides of your body, cupped your tits, grappled at your hips, forced you to fuck him harder.

He reached between your legs and stroked your swollen clit with his digits. He needed you to cum for him, before him, you had conditioned him like Pavlov. He can't cum unless he knows you've cum first. He needs to see that expression of absolute euphoria across your face to finally know relief himself.

"Please cum f'me, luv. Please, please, I need i'. Y'know I do. Please." Hobie panted and begged. And oh the way your pussy squeezed him in segments, pulsing and quivering with the beginnings of an orgasm.

You squeezed his jaw harder, looked him in the eyes with your forehead pressed against his. The tips of your noses touches, the heat of your breath met the others and you felt the desperation in his breath.

He pinched and rolled your clit between his fingers, watched you lose your breath and ride a little harder. "Come on, luv. 'm good fo' i'. Jus' cum f'me." He kept murmuring, watching your expression, playing with the clit he knew from top to bottom. Your pussy was beginning to make a nice, creamy squelch around his cock, your cunt quivering with your climax.

Your hips bucked as you sat in his lap and pulsed around his cock. "Fuck, Hobes. Shit, oh my- fuckin' God." He stroked your clit through your orgasm, your rocking hips milking his dick, a womb begging for his load. You were left shuddering uncontrollably with eyes barely able to stay open. Oh you were high on it, dick like this doesn't come by often and you were intent on enjoying it as you always do.

You fucked him hard, left a creamy ring around the base of his cock, fucked him because you needed him to cum because that was the whole point of this. You liked the face he made when he came. The slight smile, a daze in his gaze, the complete loss of control of every extremity.

He submitted himself entirely to you, let you spit in his mouth, slap his cheek, do whatever you wanted to him because he can feel nothing but the way your pussy milks him for all he's worth.

"My hero," you cooed. Stroking his cock as he came in nice, thick ropes inside you. His large hands squeezed your ass, your thighs, your waist, grappled at you as the very breath got knocked out of him. His lips sought out yours as they always eventually do with a wanton moan. He kissed you like he was in love, all tongue and teeth, all consuming. A kiss that says 'don't leave just yet, let's just sit here'.

You know for certain that he's in love with you and you find it adorable. You could say you reciprocated it, could say you wanted a nice, quiet life with him. But you both knew you weren't built for that, not when your allyship was so unstable and one moment you could be working together for a greater cause and the next you have a knife to his throat and intend on taking a little more than just a little blood. It's never hard feelings, a girl's gotta do what she's gotta do to get ahead under the oppressive eye of fascist government.

Hobie half wondered if you were just here to get the drop on him, make him let his guard down to attack him. There could never be trust between the two of you, not complete trust anyway.

"You know we can't, Bee." You pulled away from him, pulled off of his softening cock and laid down beside him with your thong settling back into place. "As much as I'd love to, you know we're not compatible."

Hobie scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I beg to diffa. We're compatible, we're fuckin' soulmates. I jus' can' figure out if we're sworn to be lovers or enemies." You look up at him, at his distant eyes that don't look back at you but instead out of a narrow window at the silver sea.

"What do you think's gonna happen while I'm here?"

Hobie finally looked down at you, his lips slowly pulling into something of a lopsided smile. "We're gonna fuck a lo', eventually hate each otha a lil' more, still fuck while we hate each otha. You'll probably try t'kill me at some poin' 'n 'm okay wit' i'. But at the end o' the day, I ain' gotta Scooby Doo, mate."

You sit up, lean in, and kiss him. In another universe, you could love him without hindrance. You've tried to love different versions of him but none compare to your Hobie, not even the Prowler Hobie you stumbled upon and made yours for a little while.

No one could compare to your hero.

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part VII

*inhales aggressively* VESSEL CHAPTER!!!!!! FINALLY!!!! Reader has a talk with the boys about what exactly happened with the night's kissing incident, after so much time of him being a bit distant towards reader Vessel decides to let his softer side show, plus more moments with III because I'm in love with him and I can't help myself sorry not sorry hehe I can't wait to know what you all think of this chapter thank you all so much for all the wonderful comments. If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: discussion of boundaries, proposals of a polyamorous relationship (I tried my best to make it realistic but I, myself, am not polyamorous), fluffy stuff per usual. NOT PROOFREAD

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

Part VI - Part VIII

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The sight before you almost made you want to laugh. The four grown men that sat in various seats around your living room almost resembled a group of school kids waiting anxiously outside the principal's office. “I’m sorry.” III was the first of them to speak up.

“No, if anything I should be the one apologizing.” II quickly follows, both of them unable to even look in your direction.

“I’m not upset at either of you, I’m just… confused.” You respond softly.

“It started off as simple crushes; me, IV, III, Ves.” You noticed Vessel’s shoulder tense as he was dragged into this conversation as well. “We all think you’re beautiful-”

“And very sweet.” III adds on. You can’t help the subtle smile that finds its way to your lips at their compliments.

“We could tell things had gotten a little more serious between you and III so we all decided to back off. But, I can’t lie to you,” II chuckled, “I’m a very jealous man. So when someone tries to keep me from what I want I don’t typically respond the best.”

“And I don’t feel right asking you to commit solely to me when you clearly have feelings for II, as well.” III adds his piece. You found it odd, there was no anger in his voice at the thought of you with his friend. “I guess what we’re trying to say is, um…” he trails off, looking to II as he searches for the right words to say.

“How would you feel about dating all of us?” Vessel breaks the thick tension with his blunt question. You felt like all of the air had been punched from your lungs, your heart jumping into your throat as your head snapped in his direction.

“Vessel, you can’t phrase it like that!” IV groans from his spot on your couch, dropping his head into his hand.

“What? She's a big girl, you don't need to beat around the bush.”

“Dating… dating all of you?” You finally mutter after a few moments of shocked silence.

“Obviously only if you're comfortable with that.” III stands from his seat, slowly stepping closer to you. “You don't have to say yes to any of this. It doesn't matter if you want to date only me, or if you would be okay dating all of us. Hell, after dropping this on you, there's a chance you might not want to see any of us ever again.” You didn't miss the nervousness that laced its way into his laughter. III was genuinely scared that this was going to fully push you away. “But, it's about what you want, that's the important part.”

“And you're all okay with this?” You would be lying if you tried to say you didn't find the offer very appealing. Every member of the group that sat before you drew you to them in one way or another, they were definitely an attractive bunch to put it lightly; III with his subtle intensity, who was always making you laugh, II who would turn you into a flustered mess with his sweet words, IV who’s easily excitable nature and blind confidence when it came to complimenting you made your heart thrum in your chest, Vessel who lets his hand linger on your waist as he maneuvers around you doing restock days, who holds your gaze for perhaps a little longer than necessary when wishing you goodbye at night. But, could you really handle four relationships? 

“The way we see it, we’d rather share you with others who we know are going to take good care of you than to be forced to hold our tongues about how we feel about you.” II explains.

“I…” you trail off as you look between the four of them. “I need some time to think.” Your voice shook slightly as you spoke.

“Of course.” Vessel responds. Without another word II, III, and IV stood, quietly said their goodbyes to you and left your apartment. Vessel hung back for a moment, waiting for III to fully shut the door behind him before breathing out a sigh. “I'm sorry that all of this happened the way it did. I kept telling them to wait to bring it up.” His gaze drops to you, who was silently fidgeting with your fingers as you leaned against the wall.

“I can always tell them to back off, love.”

“No, you don't have to do that.” You brush him off. “It's nothing to do with any of you, you're all incredible. It's just- it's me, that's what the problem is.” You tried to force a laugh to prove to Vessel that you were fine, his unchanging expression let you know immediately that he saw right through you. “You're all so wonderful, and the fact that you would be willing to make such a huge compromise.” You stare through the slits of his mask, believing you were meeting his eyes. “What if it's not worth it?”

You didn't have time to register what was happening before Vessel was in front of you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“I know I might not be as… prominent with my acts of affection as the others.” He pulls back slightly, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as your eyes instinctively rise to look at him. “But, considering II put things out in the open, I need you to know that I care for you viscerally.” The soft growl that found its way into his voice made your cheeks grow warm. “I don't want you to feel pressured into anything you don't want, but I need you to understand that there has not been a single moment since I met you that would make me think any of this wasn't worth it.” You blink slowly as a hand comes to rest on the top of your head, comfortingly patting the spot. “Would it be alright if I came and checked in tomorrow?” You nod, reluctantly letting your hands fall away from their position pressed against his chest as he stepped back, his warmth fading away with it.

“Goodnight, Ves.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to keep your overwhelming emotions in check.

“Goodnight love, rest well.”

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You watched the second hand on the clock tick, bringing you closer to when Vessel would usually make his nightly supply runs. You hadn’t managed to sleep at all the night prior, tossing and turning as you played through every scenario you could think of as you made your decision. At the sight of the familiar pick up truck rumbling into the lot you felt your heart race. “This is it.” You muttered out loud to the empty store. “No going back now.” He poked his head through the door before fully entering.

“You still open?” He offers you a playful smile.

“No, but for you I'll make an exception.” You giggle in response. He slowly steps inside and approaches the counter.

“How’d thinking on things go?” He rests his elbows on the counter, bringing him closer to face level with you.

You set a hand down on the counter, Vessel cautiously reaching out to take it in his own. He hesitates for a moment, his hand drawing back slightly as if he was preparing to pull away. His fingers were rough against the soft skin of your hand when he finally decided to take his, his thumb running languidly across the peaks and valleys of your knuckles as he waited patiently for your response. “I want to take things slow… but the thought of having all of you to myself is a little too good to pass up.” He breathes out a chuckle, flashing you a sharp smirk that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Is that so?” He mulls over how to respond to your statement for a moment. “How about I make us dinner and we can sit down and talk about how slow you want to take things, just so we can make sure everyone is on the same page.”

“You want to cook me dinner?” You shoot him a playful smile. “Is it going to be edible?” He bellows out a laugh in response.

“You're funny, you know I've been told I'm a wonderful cook.” He points an accusatory finger at you, standing up to collect what ingredients he needed from around the store. “Just you wait and see, this is going to be the best damn meal you've ever eaten.”

The whole thing was a bit strange in the best way. If he hasn't told you so directly you would've sworn that Vessel thought of you as little more than an acquaintance. But now, you were sitting on your kitchen counter, a glass of white wine swirling around in your hand, rolling your eyes playfully at all of Vessel’s terrible jokes as he made the two of you dinner. He asks you where you keep your plates, you easily reach into the cabinet behind you and produce a pair, holding them out to him with a soft smile. He carefully plates the pasta he made, penne with bacon and spinach and some type of cream sauce he had pulled together with odds and ends from your pantry. “It smells incredible.” He saunters in front of you, trapping you on the counter by placing a hand on either side of your waist.

“And here you were questioning my culinary skills.” He feigns a hurt tone before a soft chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Come on beautiful, let's go eat.” He pulls away from you, your body trailing after his warmth. You pad your way into the living room, Vessel close behind as he carries your plate for you. You sat close together on the couch, angling yourself to better face him. “So, define slow.” He jumps in immediately.

“Let me at least get a couple bites in.” Vessel can't help but smile at your teasing tone. “I just… I don’t know. This is all so different I don't think I can really tell you what going slow even means.”

“Well, I can assure you that all of us care a lot about how you feel during all of this.”

“And I know that.”

“I think you're worried about more than just taking things slow, love. What's on your mind?” The softness to his tone immediately lulled your anxious mind into a sense of safety.

“I'm worried about things developing quicker in certain relationships than others, I just don't want that to cause any of you to fight.” You absentmindedly twisted your fork around in your fingers, studying it as you tried to put into words what was racing through your mind.

“That might happen, but if it does it's alright. Unfortunately that's just something we have to deal with.” He chuckles. “There's no doubt in my mind that you would be more comfortable moving a bit quicker with III than you would with me, he started flirting with you from the start. We all know that you're in various stages of getting to know us, we're more than willing to give you time to figure all of that out.” Hearing him being so reassuring made the heaviness weighing in your chest lighten considerably. “Is there anything else I can do to ease that pretty little head of yours?” You slowly shake your head no before pausing. You looked at the man before you, swallowing thickly as you mulled over an idea. Vessel was an enigma to you even after months of knowing him. He was aloof, quiet, but the few rare instances he let part of his personality break through you could tell just how wonderful he could really be.

“Dance with me?” The question hung in the air for a moment before Vessel wordlessly rose to his feet.

“I will warn you, I'm not much of a dancer.” He chuckles, outstretching his hand for you to take. His palm was warm against your fingertips; the smudged edges of his paint were a stark contrast to the pale skin underneath.

“What a shame, neither am I.” You giggle in response before he pulls you to your feet. He looks around the room, making a small sound of affirmation to himself before pushing your coffee table out of the way to open up the space. You walked over to a bookshelf in the corner of the room, clicking on your radio and letting the soft tune crackle to life. Vessel stood in the center of the room, hands shoved into his pockets as he waited for your return, a soft smile settling onto his lips.

“You look really beautiful today.” He says softly, one strong arm reaching out for you and wrapping around your waist when you were within reach. Your fingers intertwine with his, Vessel watching carefully as each delicate digit slotted between his own. Your cheeks grow warm as you timidly accept the compliment. You had never been this close to Vessel before, feeling the way his muscles tensed and shifted under the hand that rested on his shoulder sent a shiver down your spine. You were unable to tear your eyes away from him, the intricate detailing along the edge of his mask highlighting how wide and bright his smile was as he gazed down at your flustered form. The music you had turned on was non existent at this point, the only thing mattering at this point in time was Vessel finally allowing you the briefest glimpse inside his walls. You managed to trip over your own feet, yelping slightly as you stumbled into him. “Easy now, I got you.” He chuckles, helping to steady you on your feet. “If you're going to faint at least wait until I kiss you for the first time.” He jokes

“Already thinking about kissing me, huh?” You smile coyly

“It'd be hard not to with a pretty face like that.” You let out a flustered laugh, your eyes dropping to the floor. You jumped when there was a sudden knock on the door. You reluctantly pull out of Vessel’s grasp, his fingers trailing across your waist as he tries to remain connected to you until the last possible moment. You slowly open the door, not knowing who to expect on the other side so late. You froze when your eyes landed on III, who was nervously swaying his heels on the creaky wooden landing outside. The moment he realized you had answered he immediately began to ramble.

“I'm sorry, I know you said you needed time to think and I absolutely respect that. I just, I know we kissed, and if you decide you don't want to go through with this I don't want it to make things weird-”

“III.” His mouth snaps shut as you softly say his name. You look back into your living room, Vessel’s head rested in his hand, he seemed mildly annoyed to be interrupted. Not knowing how to respond, you simply pushed the door wide open, III’s attention immediately drawn to Vessel. “We were actually just talking about that.” His eyes widen slightly, his gaze switching between you and his friend.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt-”

“I was just leaving, actually.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. You turn to face him as he walks up to you. He cradles your face in his hand, “tonight was wonderful, I hope we get to do this again soon.” He swipes his thumb across your cheek, leaving a thin black streak in its wake. “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Ves.” You respond breathlessly. You turn to face III, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth before reaching out and taking his hand, tugging him inside your apartment. His eyes stay locked on you as he follows you through the door, shutting it quietly behind him. “I really enjoyed, um… kissing you last night was really nice.” You let out a flustered laugh. “I don’t want you to worry that you made things weird.”

He chuckles, “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He stuffs his hand in his pockets, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I hope that talk you guys were having was a good one.”

“I think you’ll be very satisfied with the outcome.” You giggle. He gazes at you curiously, the usual playful sparkle back in his eyes when he realized he hadn’t scared you off.

“Is that so?” He saunters closer to you, his towering height and intense gaze threatening to make your knees buckle. “You let me know if any of this is moving too fast, okay?” He says sweetly, gently cupping your jaw.

“Okay.” You smile up at him. He trails his thumb over your bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting around your features as he drank in the sight of you.

“You are simply gorgeous, love.” He whispers after a moment of silence.

“You flatter me too much.” Both hands slide around your waist, gently pulling you flush against him.

“I'm only telling my girl the truth.” He smiles. Your eyes flash up to meet his, the declaration of being his girl making your heart flutter in your chest. “Well, it seems like we have the night to ourselves. What would you like to do?” Wordlessly you take one of the hands that had settled against the curve of your hip, guiding him towards your couch. You threw on a movie, something mindless that you didn't need to pay attention to. Tonight was about spending time with III. No distractions, no hidden feelings, just you and someone who made you feel like a girl experiencing her first crush all over again. III takes you in his arms, laying back and pulling you on top of him in the process. One arm resting comfortably behind his head, the other slung over your waist as the two of you cuddled in a comfortable silence. “You know, I was really worried all of this would make you never speak to me again.” He speaks up after a while through a quiet chuckle.

“I was definitely a bit nervous about the idea, still kind of am if I'm being honest.” You laugh softly, absentmindedly tracing shapes against the soft material of his sweatshirt on his chest. “But, none of you have given me any reason not to trust you, so despite being nervous I feel like this is the right choice.”

“How you feel about this is very important to me, okay? If there's ever anything I can do for you love, just let me know.” He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, keeping you pressed close to him almost as if he was scared if he let you go you'd disappear. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night; you learned that III is more of a cat person than a dog person, his favorite color is red, and he would willingly disappear into the woods without a trace if it meant never folding laundry again. “It's such a dumb concept, I'm going to put the damn clothes on anyways. Why do they have to be folded and put away?” You hid your face against his shoulder, trying to hide the fact you had tears forming in your eyes from laughing so hard. You look up at him with a bright smile, the tangent dying in his throat as his eyes meet yours. He slowly sits himself up on his elbows, your body responding as it gradually slid into his lap. One of his hands pressed into the small of your back, keeping you held as close to him as possible, the other moving to cup your cheek.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about kissing you since last night.” You admit in a tone barely above a whisper.

“Trust me, I wasn't doing much better.” He chuckles, his gaze briefly flashing down to your lips. “Everything about you… everything about you is just so perfect, and for the life of me I can't figure out why you give me the time of day.”

“Because you make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world.” Your voice shook as you spoke, you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears and you were nearly positive that III could hear it too.

“Because you are the only girl in the world for me.” He admits without a second thought. “I haven't been able to get last night out of my head. Of course I want to kiss you again, but this time I want to kiss you and mean it.” Trembling fingers rose to the edge of his mask, glancing up at him through your lashes asking for silent permission to raise his mask enough to kiss him. He nods, studying your nervous expression as you gently took the edge of the fabric and raised it to just below his nose. Your breath was snatched from your lungs as III crushed his lips against yours, your mind immediately swimming in the overwhelming sensation that was him. His lips subtly sweet as he eased your mouth open, his tongue carefully caressing yours, making sure to take things at a bear agonizing pace in order for you to be able to back away at any time. Your hands slid up his torso, III shivered under your delicate touch. You felt lightheaded as the kiss took over your senses; the euphoric feeling of his warm lips against yours, the deep, earthy smell of his cologne, his massive hand kneading at the softness of your hip. You both pulled away equally breathless, your hands coming up to his mask in order to readjust it into place before he had a chance to.

“I think you definitely meant it this time.” You giggle, your forehead falling to rest against his.

“There's going to be plenty more where that came from.” He winks playfully at you.

III decided to leave you for the night when you could barely keep your head up anymore. He scoops you up in his arms. You grumble in annoyance despite the fact you immediately begin to nuzzle your face against his chest. “Where are we going?” You ask through a yawn.

“I’m taking you to bed sweetheart, you need to rest.” He chuckles.

“-’m not tired.” You try to protest, your actions only make him laugh again before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Says the woman who can’t keep her eyes open.” You could hear his smile in his voice.

“I don’t want you to leave.” You admit softly.

“I know love, but you have a store to run, I’m afraid I’ve kept you up more than I already meant to.” He carefully maneuvers himself so he’s holding you in one arm, pulling back your blankets with his now free hand. He lays you gently into bed, his knuckles trailing across your cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His head dips down, allowing you to share one more chaste kiss before he left you to fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[littlest-w01f]

Punishment

Rhysand x Reader

For @officialrhysandweek

Rhysand week 2024 Masterlist

Day 4: Lord of Night

Summary: You knew your mate, Rhysand could be cruel, but you didn't know just how cruel the High Lord of Night Court could be when you pushed him to do his worst by accidentally humiliating him in front of his Court of Nightmares

Cw: Yes, yes, fine, I'll go to horny jail, this is a little degranged, see y'all there :) Dark!Rhys, choking, Rhys being aggressive but you like it, oral!M receiving, restraints, orgasm control, mind control, spanking, tendrils of darkness they produce starlight as cum, don't ask, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT 18+ MDNI

You had done it. You had managed to piss Rhysand off, albeit you had managed to humiliate him a little too, but something fucked up inside of you had wanted to see how far he could punish you, how cruel he could be. And the way he was looking at you, violet eyes blown dark, already had you dripping down your legs.

As you stood in Azriel's dungeon, your heart pounding in your chest, you couldn't help but notice the heat in Rhysand's gaze. The way his eyes seemed to devour you made you feel like prey being hunted. You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, alright, perhaps it wasn't arousal you sensed in him, seeing him with unfiltered rage directed at you almost made you want to backtrack on your plan to get angry fucked stupid. "I… I'm sorry, Rhys..." You whispered, trying to apologize for what you had committed. But even as you spoke, you knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear.

He stepped towards you, his tall, muscular frame towering over yours. His hand reached out, fingers grazing the curve of your neck before gripping firmly. "You think apologies will save you?" His voice was low, rough and barely contained anger.

Rhysand lifted you in the air by your neck, "What did you call me? I think you need to refresh your memory since you think a 'sorry' would help."

His face twisted with fury, his voice laced with venomous intent. "You called me a stupid little arrogant bat, you called you High Lord that. If it was anyone else, I would've misted them on the spot." He hissed, punctuating each syllable with a squeeze of your neck. Your body tingled with every word he spat out, every muscle in your being tensed under his touch. You felt utterly vulnerable yet strangely exhilarated. "Do you think you deserve your punishment for disrespecting your High Lord?"

Your vision blurred from how hard he gripped your neck, head spinning, but it wasn't enough to make you pass out, "Yes, my Lord."

The admission sent a surge of pleasure through Rhysand, his grip tightening even more. "That's what I thought," he growled, a sinister smile playing on his lips. He tossed you back onto the cold stone floor of the dungeon, watching you land with an almost predatory satisfaction. "Now, let's see if you can earn yourself some forgiveness."

With deliberate slowness, he unbuckled his belt, and his pants followed suit, revealing his throbbing cock, erect and ready for action. "Get on your knees, little pet," he commanded, his voice a dangerous whisper.

The way he threw you hurt your lower back the second you landed your clothes disappeared, leaving you bare, but you moved to your knees fast so, as to not anger him further, and he looped his belt around your neck, pulling you closer, the moment his belt wrapped around your neck, you felt the rush of adrenaline mixed with fear. But instead of pushing you away, it drew you closer, toward his powerful thighs.

He leaned back against the wall, positioning himself comfortably while keeping a firm hold on the leather strap. "That's right… Show me just how much you love my cock, maybe I won't punish you too hard." he murmured, his tone heavy with lust and dominance.

As you started licking and sucking on his cock, you could taste his muskiness, the salty tang of his pre-cum on your tongue. Every stroke of your mouth brought a groan of pleasure from him, fueling your desire to please him better.

The sensation of your warm, wet mouth enveloping his cock sent waves of pleasure coursing through Rhysand's veins. Each suckle, each lick was driving him wilder. "Fuck… That's it, little pet," he moaned, his fingers digging into your scalp, guiding your movements.

His hips began to move instinctively, thrusting hard into your eager mouth. "Look at me when you suck my cock," he demanded, his violet eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw desire.

You gagged as he pushed all the way in. The sight of you choking on his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as the belt tightened around your delicate throat, only served to heighten Rhysand's arousal. He thrust deeper, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, revelling in the gagging sounds you made every time. Both of you knew, that if it got too much for you, you'd do your safe signal, or scream your safeword down his mind and Rhysand always watched out for it.

"That's a good girl," he praised, repeatedly thrusting his cock into your mouth, his voice strained with impending release. "Keep going just like that." His balls tightened, signalling his approaching climax. With a guttural groan, he held your head still and pumped his hot seed directly down your throat. "Swallow it all," he commanded breathlessly, his cock pulsing with each spurt of cum.

You pant, coughing a little as you try to swallow everything, you rest you head on his thigh, body curling into him in need, your cunt pulsating in pleasure and pain. It was all too much and you were loving it.

Rhysand watched intently as you struggled to catch your breath after swallowing every last drop of his release. Once you finally managed to pull yourself together, he helped you sit up, running his fingers through your dishevelled hair affectionately.

"You did so well, little pet," he praised, cupping your face tenderly and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your swollen lips, tasting himself on you. "Such a good slut for your High Lord." He grinned, his violet eyes sparkling with amusement and satisfaction. "Now, let's see about punishing you properly…"

"But you said you wouldn't..." Your eyes were wide at his words.

Rhysand chuckled, "I said I wouldn't punish you too hard, but I would do it hard enough for the lesson to land."

With that, he picked you up once again, this time carrying you over to the nearby post, you could only guess how Azriel tortured people on it. He secured your hands in place, making sure you were comfortable and stable before stepping back to admire his handiwork.

"Comfortable now, little pet?" Rhysand asked mockingly, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He grabbed his belt from where it hung loosely around your neck, letting the cool leather slide between his fingers. "Time to teach you a lesson about respect."

You were sure he would spank you, or whip you, but you were taken by surprise by the tendrils of darkness that began to grow from his palms, from every corner of the room.

The tendrils of darkness snaked their way around your naked form, coiling tightly and binding your limbs in place. You were left completely exposed, vulnerable, and helpless. It was a perfect setup for Rhysand to take his revenge on you.

"Now, where were we?" he mused aloud, circling around you like a predator eyeing its prey. His hands moved to his own clothes, tugging them off quickly until he stood before you completely naked. His cock twitched eagerly, ready for round two. "For your punishment, you can't cum, sweet thing." He purred, taking hold of your mind.

You gasp and struggle, both in the physical restraint and the mental one. You were baffled that he thought you would be able to stop your climax if it hit you, but you tried to fight the pleasure of the tendrils of darkness prodding at you. You gasp as one lands a lash on your ass, Rhysand watching in amusement.

They poked aggressively at your breasts, tied around your thighs and ankles, they lifted your legs to your chest, giving Rhysand a complete view of your dripping cunt and tight ass. They curiously make their way between your legs, smacking against your skin as they go, Rhysand controlling their pace and aggression.

The tendrils teased mercilessly at your most sensitive areas, tracing the curves of your breasts, flicking across your hardened nipples, brushing feather-light along your cunt. You could feel the pressure building inside you, the desperate need for release.

"Not yet, little pet," Rhysand purred, his voice a seductive caress in your mind. "Not until I say so." He positioned himself before you, his cock pressing insistently against your soaked entrance. With one swift motion, he buried himself deep inside your tight heat, groaning at the exquisite feeling of your walls gripping him. He set a brutal pace, without waiting for you to adjust, pounding into you relentlessly as the tendrils continued their torturous assault on your body.

Your walls clenched around him instinctively, but the tendrils of darkness kept you from reaching any sort of release. "You're so fucking tight," he groaned.

As you cry out from the pleasure and pain of his pace, a thick tendril shoves itself into your mouth, effectively gagging you and a few of them play with your breasts, one finding its way to tease at your clit

The added stimulation from the tendril in your mouth and the one teasing your clit had your entire body screaming for release. But Rhysand was having none of it. He maintained a relentless pace, his cock pistoning in and out of your clenching cunt.

"Can't come, can you?" he taunted, his voice rough with lust. "Even though your body wants nothing more than to explode around my cock." His tendrils pinch and twist your nipples at his words, adding another layer of pain to the mix.

The tendril in your mouth pushed harder, forcing you to choke on your cries of pleasure. And the one tormenting your clit increased its pressure, drawing circles around your sensitive bud. "Just like that," he breathed out, his thrusts becoming even more forceful.

You were sure you were going to climax, you felt yourself go over the edge, but nothing came, there was no end. Whatever Rhysand had done, had taken your ability to physically orgasm. and the thought scared you just as much as it made your cunt droll all over his cock.

"Ah figured it out, did you?" Rhysand purred, "This. Is. Your. Punishment. Sweetheart." He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust, but you were incapable of orgasming.

Rhysand grinned triumphantly, reveling in the power he held over you. Your helplessness only fueled his desire, causing his cock to throb even harder inside your stretched hole.

"This is what happens when you disobey me, little pet," he murmured, his voice low and menacing. "You lose control over your own body." He leaned in close, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "And I get to use you however I please."

With renewed vigour, he fucked you mercilessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. The tendrils of darkness continued their sadistic dance, pinching, twisting, spanking and stroking your sensitive body without mercy.

Rhysand's pace became erratic, his thrusts growing more frantic as he chased his own release. The tension in his body was palpable, his muscles coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.

"I'm going to fill you up, little pet," he gritted out, his voice strained with impending climax. "Going to mark you as mine, inside and out." With a final, brutal push, hitting against your cervix, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted, his hot seed flooding your depths.

As he emptied himself into you, the tendrils of darkness intensified their assault, pushing you to the very brink of insanity. You teetered on the edge, desperate for relief, but Rhysand's magic ensured you couldn't find it. Finally, with a satisfied grunt, he pulled out, leaving you gaping open and dripping with his release.

The tendrils of darkness didn't relent, not even after Rhysand had finished pumping his seed into you. They filled your cunt, stretching you further and filling you with an overwhelming sense of fullness. You cried around the appendage in your mouth as Rhysand's cock was replaced by two of his tendrils.

"Such a pretty sight," Rhysand murmured, watching as his cum dripped from your glistening folds, filled with two of his tendrils, a painful stretch. He traced a finger down your flushed cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Look at you, crying from pleasure and punishment." A cruel smile played on his lips. "Isn't this exactly what you wanted?"

It was, this was what you had wanted, for him to be as cruel as he could to you, but you hadn't expected he would take away your ability to reach your peak, just leaving you to wither from him and the tendrils he formed.

The tendrils twisted inside you, curling and writhing in a sick parody of a lover's touch, thrusting in and out of you. Rhysand revelled in your desperation, your whimpers and moans music to his ears. He circled behind you, his fingertips trailing down your spine, eliciting a shudder.

"You look stunning like this," he praised, his voice a sinful purr. "Bound, used, and utterly at my mercy." To emphasize his point, he delivered a sharp smack to your ass, the sound ringing out obscenely in the air. "Maybe I should keep you like this forever. My personal fucktoy, ready to be played with whenever I want."

The tendrils inside you pulsed, mimicking the rhythm of his words, pushing you ever closer to that elusive edge. The tendrils in your cunt and mouth moved in tandem, undulating and pulsing, driving you wild with need.

"You're so responsive," he growled appreciatively. "I love how easily you fall apart for me." His other hand slid down your trembling body, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing roughly. "Come for me, little bird. Show me how much you love being used."

But even as he commanded it, you remained suspended on the precipice, unable to topple over into bliss. Tears streamed freely down your face now, a combination of frustration and overwrought sensation. You needed release so badly it hurt, but Rhysand's magic prevented it, keeping you in a state of agonized ecstasy.

But strangely, his tendrils of darkness came, or that was the sensation you felt, filling your mouth and cunt up, over and over again, splattering over your body. After a few mouthfuls went down your throat, you realised it was starlight in one of its purest forms that seemed to leave the darkness, the thought had you dizy, or perhaps it was the starlight itself.

It was euphoric, the taste of it. Like a drug coursing through your body, starlight covered every inch of you, you didn't understand how they could form starlight, but you weren't enough in your own mind or body to care.

Rhysand watched with hooded eyes as starlight poured from his tendrils, coating your entire being in a shimmering sheen. He chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you drenched in celestial matter as his tendrils withdrew, not before passing you off to Rhysand with gentle care.

"What a beautiful mess you've become," he remarked, tracing a fingertip along the curve of your hip where starlight trickled down. "Filled with both my essence and the cosmos itself." He pressed his palm against your lower back. You were floating, blissfully unaware of everything but your mate, your Rhysand.

With a soft chuckle, he whispered, "You've been a wonderful girl. Taking your punishment so well." and the barrier he had cast on you seemed to leave, and your impending orgasm hit you with its entirely painful pace, as he stroked your clit to sooth over your release.

You fell into an abyss of pleasure, screaming out in ecstasy as you finally reached your long overdue orgasm, the orgasm was a punishment in itself. Wave after wave of intense bliss crashed over you, drowning out everything else. Your body convulsed, your walls clenching tightly around nothing but Rhysand's finger at your clit as you rode the high.

Rhysand watched, his expression unreadable, as you bucked and writhed against him. When your orgasm subsided, leaving you gasping for breath, he leaned in close, whispering in your ear, "Welcome back, darling. You did so good."

You could barely open your eyes, and when you did, you saw the familiar warmth of Rhysand's eyes, you tried to speak but nothing came out, so Rhysand just gently turned you up in his arms, "It's all over, my precious, I'm take you home."

Despite your exhaustion, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that you were safe with Rhysand, before you passed out, you heard him whisper in an amused tone, "I didn't quite know they could produce starlight, lovely. That should do wonders for your skin and hair."

Rhysand looked down at you, marvelling at the sight of your spent body, glowing with traces of starlight.

"I must say, sweetheart," he mused aloud, "You have an uncanny ability to surprise me. First with your disobedience, then with your… Need for me to be ruthless." He smiled softly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "Perhaps we can explore those tendencies further sometime."

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[adventuringblind]

Attitude

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: smut 😈

Request: Yes. No comment.

Summary: Charles is pent up and needs to do something with it. The reader needs Max to come help her with him.

Warnings: spanking, choking, subspace, lots of dirty talk, praise, degradation, anal, oral (both receiving), daddy kink

Notes: a lestappen sandwich?!

Masterlist

If you looked at the trio, the first words in your head would be ridiculous. It's unconventional. It shouldn't work. All the dumb stuff that people say that only makes all three of them smile and laugh about it later.

It works for them. They all love each other. Their dynamic is not anyone else's business. The more interesting part is how they all fit together in their own little world.

Max is the most outgoing and protective. He's aggressive, but he's also incredibly sweet. She blames his daddy issues for his want (need?) to be in control of things. This also goes for sex. He's good at it, too. He just has a way of working tactically that makes her shiver at the thought.

On the opposite side, she is quiet and gentle. Christian lets her follow Max around like a lost puppy some days if he's in a mood. Why? Mad Max can't make an appearance if she's holding his hand. Don't get her wrong, she would bitch slap somebody if she needed too. But for the most part, she'll simply do as told.

Then there's Charles. He is the lovely gray area between them. The Monegasque isn't assertive for himself, but if it comes to the other two, then he's willing to commit war crimes (at least that's how it feels). He's Max's source of understanding with driving, and he takes care of the female when people are asking too much of her.

He is also a switch, interestingly enough. He will, and has, tired every role. Some days, he prefers to tag team her with Max, others he prefers to just take what Max gives. It depends on his mood, and it always makes for interesting nightly (all times of day, really) activities.

One thing about Charles is that he has separation anxiety. If her and Max are away from him for too long, then his temper starts to flair. Not in a bad way, his mind just wanders to every possibility of what could go wrong.

The difference is, when she's the one that gone Max can take of him. The Dutch can get him to subdrop in thirty seconds (give or take). It makes him feel better, makes him forget. It's almost like a reset button.

When Max is gone, it's much harder. She's tried. She's tried too hard to get him to drop. Make an attempt at playing into Max's usual role. But she can't figure it out for the life of her. Whether she's too gentle or doesn't say the right things, she has no idea.

Max and Charles have told her ample times that it's not her responsibility. Yet the little voice in her head screams at her to make it better.

That's probably the reason she's letting Charles bruise her.

Max had to fly back to England during the winter break for a couple of weeks. Charles, as per usual, was getting frustrated by day three of no Max. She cuddled him, made him food, and watched movies. She once again tried to help him sexually, but the pent-up anxiety and frustration just kept coming, and she was starting to lose faith in herself.

Halfway through the second week, she'd called Max half sobbing. She felt clueless on what to do. Not even Lando, with all of his anxiety soothing tactics, were helping. He'd reassured her it would work out fine, that Charles says things when he's anxious, but none of it is true (the biggest being Max is going to die).

Then, she decided to switch tactics. Sue called Christian and pleaded with him to send Max home early because both her and Charles are sick (ly in need of his sexual assistance). Christian relented cause he owed her a favor anyway, and Max was to be home late that evening.

What she was not expecting was for Charles to slam her against the wall. It took her off guard when he started begging to use her body. She complied, offering herself up like a Christmas present with a bow on top for him to unwrap. It's nothing new for her. Being manhandled and fucked into next year.

But this is Charles. Her gentle Charles. Eyes dilated with lust and hands litterally ripping her clothes off. Her Charles that takes at least ten minutes to communicate, getting straight into it. Charles who lays light kisses to her most sensitive areas, now biting and sucking like he's a starving vampire.

In reality, this was not her plan. Max was going to come home and give Charles what he actually needs that she can't provide.

"Fuck chéri, you really are a slut." He slaps her clit and it drags a whine out of her. "A dirty whore, gonna let me use you? Hmm?"

She nods her head vigorously. Her head felt foggy a few minutes ago, but now she's just gone. Mind desperate to please and give what he needs. Let him take every piece of her that he so desires.

First, he takes her mouth. Her head hanging upsidedown off the bed. His cock hitting the back of her throat consistently, angrily. She's choking, crying, and finding it difficult to breathe. He still took care of keeping her hands on him so she could tap out, but she wasn't going to. Her mind repeats the same words over and over again.

Finally, his hips stutter, and he's trying to keep himself upright. It's sticky down the back of her throat, but she could care less. Charles is moaning and panting, and it satisfies that need in her head to please him.

But it's not enough. She doesn't get time to recover. Charles drags her by the knees back onto the bed fully. He pins her waist down with one hand and shoves her legs open with the other. A sharp stinging sensation is laid to the insides of her thighs. She screams in surprise but he doesn't relent.

"Such a good toy. Are you going to be a good slut for me and and let me spank you?" She cries as her thighs touch when she rolls over for him. She whines out a little 'yes sir' and braces for his hand to meet her skin.

"Count and say thank you."

Something in her mind snaps. Is she being punished? Or is she being used? Cause in her mind those are two different thing.

Slap.

"One... thank you sir."

He's not like Max at all. Her head is too fuzzy to really remember things, but she's certain Max always clarifies.

Slap.

"Two... thank you sir."

She's not sure she's going to make it through however many he plans on. So she just takes it.

Slap.

"Ten... thank you sir."

She aches in every are. She wants to please. She needs to please. It is her purpose.

Slap.

"Sixteen... thank you sir."

Her words are slurred. She can't talk. Her mouth feels impossibly dry. Her tears have soaked into the sheets beneath her.

She sobs as Charles flips her again. There is a small part of her that thinks if he keeps manhandling her like this, she might finish without doing anything else. It's not going to take much with how close she is already.

Once again, her legs are spread. His hands grip her waist. Then he sheaths himself inside of her. There is no pause, simply pace. It's relentless and has her wailing.

Then nothing.

It's like time freezes. There is no movement. Charles has even stopped breathing.

She pulls her eyes open. The sight of Max, his grip halting every movement Charles can make, meets her eyes like he's an angel sent to fix this.

"Did you really think you could dom our girl, Charlie? You can't even take care of yourself." Max forces Charles to really look at her. The damage he'd done to her body as clear as day. "Do you see what you've done? What were you trying to achieve here?"

She can actively feel Charles melting. She can see his eyes getting glassy. They probably match now. If she were coherent, she would be upset that Max managed to make him drop with a couple of sentences. For now, she'll stick to not thinking and writhing around in pain.

She suddenly feels empty without Charles in her. Max had pulled him out of her. "Knees. On the floor. Hands behind your back." Max's demanding tone makes her feel all warm and fuzzy.

His calloused fingers dance across her beat thighs. She hisses at the sting but doesn't flinch away. "Who do you need right now, schat? Do you want me to be sir and keep being rough? Do you want me to be daddy and give you something soft?"

She feels stupid just staring at him in awe. Her mind is not able to fathom how good-looking he is. She curses her brain. She thought the same thing as Charles was using her for everything she had.

"Come on love. I need you to stay with me. Need you to tell me your colors."

"Green, Daddy. Mm green. I tried to help..." it comes out a slurred mumble, and she hopes he can understand her.

"Daddy's gonna take care of you now, yeah? Have you cum yet?" She shakes her head no and goes back memorizing his face.

Max moves away from her, and she whines at the loss of contact. She can only watch as Max gets a hold of Charles' thick brown locks. The Monegasque moans at the force.

Max brings him to his feet and again forces his gaze onto her. "She hasn't even finished yet, Charles. If you want me to fuck you out of this mood then you're going to fix your mess first."

She's shocked at how easily Max maneuvers Charles into position. There is no hesitation for Max to shove his tongue into her core.

Fuck does she whine. She moans. She writhes. She wails as his tongue swirls around her clit.

Her hands find his hair, which only amplifies his moans. Max is behind him, working him open for whatever he has planned. She assumes, based on the level of moans and pants, that Max is touching his prostate in very clinical ways.

Finally, she's asking for it. Begging for her release that she has waited for, been used for.

"Cum for me. Let Charles taste all of you."

The pleasure she'd been dipping her toes in is now swallowing her whole. Her body spasms and her muscles contract. Charles has to keep her knees apart so her can help elongate her high.

She can barely breathe when her body settles. Sweat drips down her face along with another set of tears. Charles also lies flat, staring up at her like a puppy who's gotten in trouble. Which isn't to far from the truth, she thinks.

"Colors?"

A course of breathy "green" echoes through the room. Max then moves to the side of her. He kisses her skin. He tells her how good she is. Then he immediately goes back to situating their bodies.

"Okay, Charlie, I'm going to give you what you want. I'm going to fix this attitude problem." They end up in a position that is less fun for Charles, easy for her (despite the weight at times) and very fun for Max.

Every movment brings Charles more stimulation. Max moves his hips back and forth. In and out of both simultaneously. He is taking Max from behind while she lets him stretch her once again.

She's already to far gone to really notice everything that's happening. However. Charles is looking at her like she's the most amazing creature he's ever beheld.

"Apoligize to her, and maybe I'll let you move faster."

Charles begins dripping in apologies. "I'm so sorry, amour. I wasn't being careful. Just wanted to feel good. Please- fuck- I'm so sorry."

"S'okay, Charlie." Is what she manages. Though she's sure it isn't coherent.

Max picks up the speed. This time, praising them both. It's dirty and relentless. The words leaving his mouth are filthy to most, but to her, they create a sense of pride.

"My good sluts. Taking what I give you."

Charles is begging for it. She would be too if Max hadn't told her she didn't have to ask. To which she realizes it's probably not helping the Monegasque to have cum around him multiple times now.

Finally, Max relents. Charles collapses into a writhing spasming mess. Max's hands are all over his body, dragging the high out as much as he can.

Then they are curled up together. No sexual intent, just cuddles. Max In between the two, stroking hair and backs.

He didn't want to try and bathe them or start icing mucles and bruises so far into the head space. So he settles for kisses and sweet words instead.

"Mm sorry for being to hot headed."

"You don't have to be sorry for your emotions, Charles. But you also need to be in a good headspace if you're going to dom like that." Max turns and kisses his cheek. "I am glad your feeling better."

Max glances the other direction when he hears light snores coming from the female.

"Do you think she'll still trust me?"

"If she didn't trust you, then she wouldn't have continued. Just make nit to try that again for a while. I didn't think you had it in you to try that."

"I didn't either, to be honest."

"Next time, maybe I'll let you do that to me." Max laughs, mostly because he knows it would take a lot to get him to the point of wanting that.

Charles simply gives him a terrible wink as if to signify that he'll be holding him to that.

[blorbocedes]

honestly something that isn't leaving my mind r the amount of jokes and digs at the expense of Nico just from this gp alone like there's one thing to take a light-hearted dig every once in a while but the outright disrespect (disguised as jokes or not) Nico has gotten from the grid/journalists/commentators during his time as a driver and afterwards even up to this day is insane. He's better than me fr cause at this point I would've commited a murder

sky commentators are reliant on playing nice with the FIA/Liberty for their jobs. they can't be critical of any aspect that can threaten their job security

Nico is a world champion, infinitely rich, does not rely on that paycheck. That's why he straight up said today the FIA should've gotten the safety car way earlier instead of double yellows. He corrects Crofty multiple times when he's wrong. Actual members of the grid respect Nico and can be pulled in for a quick comment (Todt, Bono) when they'd ignore Kravitz. And he's a world champion who won in the last decade, who knows wheel, and when put to the test vastly outclasses the rest of them. So the clique of commentators don't really fuck with him, and keeping trying to needle him to talk about brocedes/silver war/mind games and fights. Sky also probably pays more to retain him for it to be worth his while

he's strutting in his 2k LV jacket, the passive aggressiveness slides off him, and this gig is a hobby that he chooses his incredibly lax schedule of which handful of races to commentate. He's only here cause he loves the sport, he doesn't wanna go get dinner with Crofty and Hill.

[cntloup]

had enough

Toxic!Simon, unhinged reader, threatening to commit suicide, guns, mention of killing, implied cheating

Part 1 | Part 2

ik ive used this song before but whatever

“I’ll do it, Simon! I will fucking do it!” you shout while holding his gun to your head, the one he always kept under his pillow just in case. It was supposed to be there for your protection. But how he regrets it now. 

You're a complete wreck right now as you stand before him, uncontrollable flows of tears along with your makeup cascading down your face, bloodshot eyes looking back at him as you threaten to pull the trigger. 

And he has never been this scared in his life. Not even when streams of bullets come flying in his direction almost every day. 

“Put the gun down... please... we can talk about it. I will stay. I promise.” he pleads desperately, struggling to figure out what to do in this situation. 

“What does she have that I don’t have? Huh? What do they have? I don’t even fucking know how many there are anymore!” you continue yelling and sobbing while waving the gun around, stopping him dead in his tracks as he steps closer to take the gun from you. 

He ducks his head as you point the gun in his direction for a moment, “What? You think I'm gonna kill you? Whatever I do, I'll do it to myself! I can’t go on like this anymore!” you cry out, your loud sobs and hiccups fill the room, fill his senses, overwhelming him as it builds up his aggression and frustration more and more. 

“Put. The. Fuckin'. Gun. Down.” he states firmly as he gets closer, slowly reaching for the gun that you now hold by your side as you go on sobbing. 

“Why don’t you love me, Simon?” you ask while slightly tilting your head, this time in a much softer tone, almost as if you have given up the fight, now only desperate for an answer. 

Your words bring a shocked look to his face, not from the question itself, no, your question is completely valid considering his actions, but because he doesn’t know how to answer. 

He finally reaches out and takes the gun from you, your fingers loosening their grip and your sobs slowly dying down a bit, a defeated look replacing it, “Why do you do this to me? All of it? Why the fuck did you make me fall in love with you?” 

He holds his head down, not daring to meet your gaze and look into your expecting eyes as you still await an answer. 

Is it from shame? Or that he doesn’t want to confront the consequences of his actions? You don’t know which one, but you guess the latter is probably true. 

“You d-don't... can you just hold me please?” you ask in utter desperation as you shut your eyes in shame of admitting defeat.

In no time, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap you in a warm embrace. 

And after all that he’s done to you, you still feel safe in his arms, even somehow... loved? Or something resembling that.

And you remember why you always keep crawling back to him as he tightens his arms around you.

And as much as you don't like to admit to yourself, you'd feel content if he would just pretend to love you.

yes im going through some stuff as you can tell :'(

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Hello I love your headcannons so much they always make my day.

Can I request some headcannons (or mini headcannons I don't mind) for a MC that's been getting their memories back and tells the M6 they want to go home but it's like a year long trip by sea just to go there? So it would be at least two years away from Vesuvia, plus whatever time they need to reconnect)tie up loose ends with family and their hometown.

The Arcana Mini-HCs: MC needs to sail two years to visit home

Julian: for what it's worth, his longest trip ended the day he moved in with you! a couple years doesn't make him bat an eye. he knows his way around a ship, he'll handle travel arrangements while you pack!

Asra: two years at sea? sounds dangerous - and exciting. elated to spend so much time with you in their element, and to help you find your roots again in your element. can't wait to get started

Nadia: ah. this is going to take some ... negotiating. she wants to make this trip with you but it's going to be a while before she'll be able to leave Vesuvia without a Countess. could they come here?

Muriel: two years is a lot longer than two months and he has a preference for dry land. that said, if there's a family out there you need to connect with, he'll be by your side for every minute of it

Portia: that sounds amazing! better yet, she could even arrange her ambassador trips to get you two there! not worried at all about the time commitment, she's your partner for life and she'll support you!

Lucio: well - it's not like there's any specific place he has to be. you're already journeymen, why not spend a couple years voyaging? maybe he'll meet some pirates and get his aggression out for some gold!

[threepandas]

Bad End: Cultivation

The rope creaked softly, suffering under the weight it was not meant to bear, as it stretched out, seemlingly endless into the mist. This had once been a bridge. The entrance to this lonely place. Humble as it was, the simple rope bridge had once stood for time immemorial. A path of safety above Soul Eater mists below.

Terrible creatures and unspeakable monsters dwelled down there. Things that devoured. Even the mists themselves, were said to drive men mad. Cause hallucinations and aggression. Qi draining in nature. It was like a living thing that digested you slowly.

Unless, of course, you could escape.

Or, it was said, if you were like the legendary immortal who had founded this temple. HE had apparently just walked. Refused the mist's their hold on him. Then climbed the cliff face to this mountain top. I somewhat doubted that tale. But then again, staring down at the rolling mists... it seemed impossible that ANYONE could have ever survived them.

The bridge creaked on, in the soft breeze. There were days it's groans sounded like the cries of a beast in pain. Tortured. When the wind rattled and dragged at what remained of its form. Trying to pull it from it's post. Down, down, down to it's final end.

There was a boot print. Terrible and damning. Cracked, IMPRINTED, deep into the base of the pillar that once held up one side. Far away, the bridge must surely still be stable. Both pillars standing tall, like gaurds. Like brothers. But here?

One powerful kick.

And the bridge had disappeared out from underneath all those that stood upon it.

Everyday... every day I come. Every day I look upon this bridge. Upon the boot, a terrible sin imprinted into stone, and I tell myself I do not recognize the size of it. That my suspicions are wrong. My instincts surely lying. Because... because if I do not?

What can I do? What could I POSSIBLY hope to do? If my suspicions WERE correct? If in this place, lives a monster? I am not stronger them him. Without him, I would be utterly alone. He has insured I am all but dependant on him. Not teaching me how to cook nor clean, farm nor fight. All practical skills are lessons for another day. Forever another day.

Yet...

Yet, I MUST know.

I torture myself with this. The wondering. The questions I do not not ask, for fear he will not even bother hiding behind lies. I stare at the old, long dried blood that stains where the bridge once ended. The shimmering heavenly gold. Somehow... some horrified, gut wrenched, SCREAMING instinct... knows it to be the blood of Tree Fruit.

It is the blood of the unborn. Those that will never get the chance, now. They... they were not even apart of anyone's body. Were wholly seperate, dependent and their protectors for survival. Were FRUIT for God's sake. Just as I had been. Souls reborn, not from flesh, but clean and new, from a Divine Tree. Ascendant from some other place.

I don't know WHY they were taken from the Tree. Why I was. My memory is spotty. It was too soon. I had not forgotten yet. Was not READY yet. It should have been safest to stay there. Be born into the world. Yet... they were on this bridge, instead. Attacked. The blood of infants stains the stones and will never wash clean. I can not... I was still FRUIT, then.

I can not REMEMBER.

And so I come. Again and again, before this rope. That stretchs out into the mists. Above far more terrible things. And try to recall. Make sense of it this terrible thing before me. This bridge. A long, worn, straining rope. With old, well-worn wooden planks, weathered by the ages, that... that hang like bodies.

Strung up in an endless row.

That whisper as they clack and groan with suffering in the wind, "A crime. A crime. Great evil was committed here!"

I tell myself... like a child hiding from monsters they KNOW are real. Trembling and blood soaked, terrified, as they crawl as far back into some small dark place as they can... I... I do not want to compare the boot print in that stone to Lei's. That they would be different sizes, even if I did.

I do not convince myself.

I never do.

"Shimei, this disciple wonderd where you were..." calls out a familiar voice. Deep in the way dangerous waters are deep. Smooth and placid at the surface. With something deadly I can not see, far, far below. "This one has found you at the bridge again. What captivates you so? You missed your morning snack. Should be on your way to early morning meditations."

My smile is more of a grimace, as I turn.

There are days... when forgetting is easy. When the tranquility of this place seeps itself into my bones. The comfort he deliberately arranges for me. The scheduled repetition. It is... trance-like.

Sitting with tea and snacks. Watching the early morning's sunlight dance off the distant mist. As birds wake and dew settles. The world hushed. Cup warm in my hand. Coat dropped over my shoulders. It is beautiful. The meditation garden is beautiful. EVERYTHING here is beautiful.

It is the fact that it is... empty, that bothers me.

This was not a temple built for two people. Remote as it must be in the world. The sect built this place for a reason. And each day that passes? I am more convinced that reason was to have a place to fall back too. The temple is lovely... but more then that? It is a FORTRESS.

Difficulty getting here is not even a fraction of the defens it holds.

So WHY?

WHY are there only two people here?

I nod, stepping towards my "shixong" as he insists I call him, dispite there being just the two of us. His hand reaching out to take my arm, guide me. I no longer need help navigating these halls. But he does not stop. Clings to his excuses to coddle and touch. It is a fight I can not win. I pick my battles. But, before his hand reaches my sleeve. Knife!

A throwing knife, shrieks near silent through the air as it cuts between us. Nearly removing Lei's fingers as it does. I jerk away, startled. He whips around towards the bridge.

"GET AWAY FROM THAT CHILD!"

The voice that roars that command has the distinct rasp of old age. Sure enough, a figure in flowing robes surges forward from the mist, running light as a feather across the single rope that remains of the bridge. Long white hair and beard. A wrinkled face, more accustomed to smiling, now turned into a fierce and determined scowl. The robes of a Grand Master.

There are a handful of warriors following him.

But the one that I can not look away from... it's... it's like looking through the lense of a half forgotten dream. Blurred by angles all wrong. But oh... oh how could I forget that face? The one that stares at me with such fierce and fearful determination?

...Shijie?

More then an older sister, less then a mother. Whisperd promises, muffled by liquid, from long ago. I know that face. KNEW it. It once smiled down at me, as I grew upon my branch, and promised we would be family. Loved me. Beautiful and patient, as she whispered about all the wonders of world.

I was...

Oh.

I was supposed to go with HER.

Be raised by HER. A little sister, a daughter, someone she could guide and grow with. My memories struggle to come together, but faced with familiar faces? They TRY. Especially as power begins to surge around me. Terrible and familiar. The beginnings of a fight.

Someone on my branch. Not my sister. Pale as morning mist and just as untouchable. He seemed lonely. I was lonely. Far from other Fruit, an awkward thing, high up, and on an old twisting branch. That had missed all nipping and cultivation by being accidentally hidden by the leaves surrounding it. The fruit was supposed to grow lower to the ground, where it could be watched. Safe.

But I happened anyway.

And I was alone.

No others to spend my time with. No disciples to come and care for me, day to day. So when the mist man came? I clumsily... reached out. Pat pat. There, there. I'm here, "dude". (I... can not remember what that word meant. But I know I knew it. It was friendly, I think.)

He was surprised to find me, up there.

I don't not think he told anyone.

I...I think he was supposed too?

But it did not matter in the end. Someone else found his hiding spot. Found me. There was much shouting and alarm. Elders, I think. Doctors, to insure I was well. Great relief, that I was a hardly little thing, developing as I should. After that? I had constant visitors. None that seemed very interesting... until... until my Shijie.

They were looking, I think, through interested parties for a match. Who would adopt me. Then there was softness. Sweet, golden days. The mist man visited. Anger from him? Not at me. Displeased. Covetous? I did not understand. Something wrong was growing but I was unborn... did not have a name yet for the sensation.

Just that is was...Dark.

Then it was night time. A beautiful moon through the branches. Smoke, black and terrifying. Screaming and the clash of swords. Unbearable heat, climbing and climbing. Lights blinking out. Dying? Were... were they dying? The great Tree, divine and holy, groaning in agony. Wood popping from heat. Splintering from blows.

Feet upon my branch. Running, running, running. Falling too their knees. Swordsman's hands. Bloody, wrong, not my shijie. Where is my shijie? Sister! SISTER?! I am being pulled. No. No, it is not time. It is too soon. The Fruit is not ready.

The hands do not care.

I am torn out by the roots.

Where the Tree should be... is nothing. I SCREAM. It hurts! A void. The ocean of life gone, gone, GONE! Already I am starving. Destabilizing. Dying again. Scared! Please! I am-!

A hand wraps around the raw nerves of my roots. They are wrong. I know them, but they are WRONG. Where is shijie? Sister... SISTER! Please!! Energy floods back in, as though it never stopped. But... but it is not clean. Like brackish water after so long in clear springs, I choke as I try to adjust.

Moving.

Running.

Where is the Divine Tree? I want to go home.

Others join. Burned. Bleeding. They have Fruit too. I have never been so close to others. They sound nervous too. Scared. But they have their family. Why do I not? There is some plan. A bridge that goes on and on. Below us are terrible things. They are talking? The end in sight.

"-viously you can't... -ep her, she's not your child. Y.. -eat thing protecting her th.. -ll be so relieved you have her child. N.. -all we have to... -ait out this..."

Something ugly is rising. Danger. DANGER. No, no, NO. STOP. Run! Bad thing is coming! I don't-! I can't-! Covetous, terrible, tar-like WRONG! Seeping up like festering! Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!!

The sound of a sword being drawn.

I am tucked close. Cradled like something precious. As a blade sings destruction through the air. A shocked and betrayed cry. Confusion. I can see horror on faces, feel terror from the other Fruit. Two of them are dead. CRUNCH. The bridge violently lists to the side, weight no longer equally supported.

Time seems to slow... as ancient metal slides free of stone.

Half those on the bridge are gone in an instant, as the floor swings out from below them like a trapdoor. Those that remain? Are the souls fast enough to grab the rail that still remains. The boards, as they fall. They hang above certain death, as their friends fall screaming in primal fear, to horrific death below.

How long can they hold on?

Especially with only one hand?

A few already lost their grip on their Fruit in the sudden shift. Can only stare in numb and mind blank horror, soul deep agony, as the bright little lights fall... and fall... and fall...

Inside my Fruit I SCREAM.

I do not remember after that. Only being born. It is a blur of trauma my mind must have refused to keep. D..Damn it. DAMN IT! I jerk away from Lei. I had known. I hadn't WANTED to know... but I had KNOWN.

The Grand Master attacks. His blade crashing like the might of a wrathful god against Lei's. Sending him sliding back. The master pressing his advantage, warriors rushing to fan out between the fighters and me.

Arms. Soft yet unimaginably powerful, the scent of tea and the medicinal flowers she proudly grew for the sect, I was pulled into an embrace. My head tucked against her neck. Arms bordering on too tight. As though I would disappear at any moment.

"Shimei.." my shijie whispered, a wounded sound. "This sister has you. We have come to rescue you. The traitor will never hurt you again. Come!"

This felt right. I nod. Follow her towards the bridge.

"Thief."

Lei's snarls. Never has there been an uglier, more venomous sound. One of the warriors, acting as a shield, dies preventing my sister from being speared through the heart from behind. Desperately, she scoops me up. Breaking into a sprint.

"Do you truely think you can take this one's Disciple from him? His WORLD!?" An unhinged laugh echoed along side the clash on blades. "There is NOWHERE you can hide her, that I will not find! She is MINE! Belongs with ME! You can run but there is NO WHERE you can hide!"

I cling to my sister as she jumps up on the rope, racing away from the gilded cage that was my only home. Over her shoulder, Lei is locked in combat. The ugly something I had always known was there, finally out in the air between us. Demonic energy spilled from him like radiation. Sickening and every bit as caustic. His eyes wild as they lock onto me.

"I'm going to BURN everything that gets in my way, my disciple." He croons, the grin spreading across his face a thing that will haunt me. "Just like before. NOTHING will keep you away from me. Nothing! I am going to hunt you down, drag you to ascension, then spend the rest of time making you MINE."

"And nothing will stop me, child. Not even you. Why?"

"Because I LOVE You."

[fluff-n-cookies]

Thinking about yandad Dabi and his child who's now around 9-11 years old. Your writing has absolutely captivated me <3

Dabi starts getting more possessive, more protective, and certainly more assertive. He's your dad, after all—you HAVE to listen to him, no? It's too dangerous to go outside without him keeping an eye on you, you're still so tiny and fragile. He'll be damned if his kid steps foot out of the apartment without his say so, no ifs or buts.

After a long day of setting people on fire and committing various crimes, Dabi just wants to scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug and plop down onto the couch to snuggle his baby, paying no mind to your complaints.

While he's soft and affectionate towards you, it's a completely different story when it comes to others. Dabi is ruthless and aggressive, destroying anyone and anything that may try to take you away–much less harm you. It doesn't matter how small, Dabi will turn it into ashes without remorse. If you somehow figure out about his actions and try to make a run for it? He'd be crushed, obviously–Dabi can't stand the thought of you fearing him. Rest assured, he'd track you down and bring you back home, suffering you in cuddles while scolding you. He's your dad–you need to listen to him.

(Btw sorry about how long this became didn't realize I was ranting)

omg hi???? thank you for gracing me with this masterpiece??? wtf???? (lovingly)

and this is all so fucking true. I plan on making a longer fic on this (sorry to say that I haven't drafted it yet, I'm working on overhaul posts)

but he's so paranoid, so utterly terrified 24/7, he dead bolts all the doors and windows at night and only lets you go outside between 11 AM and 5PM unless it's for school.

speaking of which, he hates them for giving his baby so much homework and taking away from their time together buuttt he genuinely believes you need to get your education, don't skip out on highschool like he did.

and he does this thing, this god awful thing, after dinner, after your daily shower, and after getting you all nice and snuggly for bed and into your cat pajamas. he'll do this thing where he'll hold you tight to his chest while he flicks through the news channel.

now normally this would be fine, perfectly fine, if I weren't for the fact he either goes to true crime channels where they display the horrific acts of villains (himself included) live. he tells you that the world is a horrifying place, that that's how he burned himself, how painful it was, the scorching flames. he doesn't mean to traumatize you, it's just to warn you!

either that, or he'll go to news channels covering endeavor's problems, scandals, recent missions, interviews. please don't ask who that strange man with eyes like yours is. he'll hold you tighter and say in the lightest voice possible. "he's a bad man, don't you dare go near him, he'll hurt you like he hurt me."

don't say anything else after that.

he's just tired, so tired, and you're there, right when he gets home after running "errands". you're his reminder of what he's working towards, this future with no heroes and no pain that he's trying to build. the revenge he longs for and the aftermath where you thrive. really, you're the reason he gets up in the morning these days, the reason he stopped smoking in the house, the reason why there's no more beer in the fridge, only tenderly made lunches that he makes every Sunday to prepare for the week.

you're like this stress ball, this hit of Serotonin and Dopamine and what not. every time you smile he can feel his heart clenching. when he looks at you, he sees the boy he once used to be, happy. you're so happy, so pure.

he refuses to let you go out much, his reasoning being that the world's a terrible place. when you ask what's his job, what he does at "work" every day, he only chuckles.

"Oh baby, I'm trying to makes this world a better place, my job is to try and stop all the bad things from happening. I'm a type of... Freedom fighter, really."

and he so, so, so so so so so so sweet to you. you have never known Dabi, ruthless arsonist and serial killer. you have never known Touya, a boy lost in his own insanity and deprivation of paternal love. both are vicious, people, downright insane. one's a criminal the other's incapable of ever recovering from his own madness and fury.

the only person you know is your Dad, Dad's a nice guy, he plays doll house and dress up with you and watches cartoons with you every morning before school. he lets you wear his jacket when you're cold and left yours at school in your cubby, and he takes you out for donuts or ice cream monthly. sure, he doesn't have money, he can't buy you that many toys and sometimes they turn the light off because he missed too many bills, but he loves you. that's all you need to know.

Dad is a kind person, he's not Dabi or Touya, he's definitely not a hero. he's your dad.

And Dad does the best job of gas-lighting you to hell and back. you want to go outside after 5 or before 11? welp, he's not coming with you, sorry honey, maybe tomorrow. what do you mean you'll go anyway? the boogeyman'll get you! (it's him, he's the boogeyman, he knows you won't last a second out in the real world with your loving father's help and he's going to exploit it the moment you start to show independence.)

but it's very unlikely that Dabi would ever even get the chance to do this when you're 9-11 years old, you know why? because you'll be in Endeavor's custody by then. I refuse to elaborate since then I'll be spoiling the plot of Part 3 and I don't want that.

P.S. you wanna be tagged?

[tojiscrack]

sneak peak, 'liar, liar' chap.6 : junior year

liar, liar masterlist here:

he flinched when your voice rose once more:

"you're taking ap math?" you demanded, only just realising that he had one extra lesson than you, yuji and nobara. it was at the very top of the table, labelled 'period 0'.

"don't give him an opportunity to act more pompous than he already is," scoffed nobara, looking uninterested. you did not comment on how she still peeked over the sheet when she thought you weren't looking.

"wow," yuji began, looking pleasantly in awe at megumi's hefty schedule. he leaned back in his seat, careful not to pull himself too far back in the event that he might fall off. you secretly wished that he did, if only to stifle your current shock. "so you'll start the day earlier... won't you be exhausted when we get to football practice?"

that was a good question. since coach yaga had stubbornly given both megumi and yuji spots on the school's football team, it had since been announced that practice would take place every day after school unless otherwise mentioned. with megumi's mornings starting earlier than the rest of you, and his days finishing later, he was bound to be torn down with tiredness. although he acted like a robot all the time (eat, sleep, make a rude comment about you, repeat) he was still a human who needed rest. more school meant more social interaction. more social interaction meant a drained megumi. things would only go south from there.

he shrugged at the question.

"i'll be fine," he answered, unbothered.

you disagreed. "you'll die —"

"— revive me with your mermaid abilities then —"

you hoped you pinched him hard enough to bruise. 

"wait," you said, halting your attack on him with a slow frown. he took the opportunity to rip your hands off his ribs and shuffled away from you. you ignored him, sliding down to sit hip-to-hip with him. "if you do ap math in the morning, we can't walk to school together."

for the third time that day, megumi snatched back his timetable from you.

"good luck," he said. "you cross the road like you have nine lives."

"you basically just told her that you wouldn't care if she died," yuji intervened, quick to jump to your defence despite the many times you would argue with him too. 

"this is what happens when you hype him up," said nobara, pointing at him with enough aggression, any outsider would probably assume that he'd committed blasphemy — you liked to think he had. 

"i'm surrounded by idiots," you thought you heard him mutter. 

liar, liar masterlist here:

notes: guys, this is the chapter AFTER the (unreleased) chapter 5. thought i'd feed it to you 'cause i don't have a sneak peak prepared for chapter 5 itself, and this was sitting in my drafts, unattended. and cuz it's been over a month since the last update (and will take another month to actually complete and release a new chapter) i thought i'd give you guys SOMETHING rather than nothing :)

[lemon-tree-in-paperbag]

Hiii guys!!! Here's a little something something to make you cry🥺 /j

Okay, but seriously, i have an important thing to talk to you about and i hope you will read this post to the end

I built a great place for me here and i love all of the people I've met in camp camp fandom. So i hope you will take this seriously and you will care about what's I'm gonna say rn

So, as you know I'm a ukrainian artist. And exactly one year and two days ago (06.06.2023) russia bombed Khakovka dam – destroying ukrainian ecosystem, killing animals and killing Ukrainians.

Because of that the place i loved the most, which inspires my cc art quite a lot, has been destroyed. My sweet summer house that i will never returne to. I miss it every day, but now that place doesn't exist. It covered with mines and I'm not gonna be surprised that it would be also covered with hum44 rem4ins. How did it get there? Because of the flood. Human made flood, russian terrorism. That's the reality i, my family and my ukrainian friends in which we live today

Russian terrorism is being forgotten, russia is praised by people who don't know or understand what this terrorists are doing. Fucking UN celebrates russian language day at the same day russia commits another act of genocide. Wtf seriously..

I know that a lot is going on in the world right now but war is not over. russia kills ukrainians every day and they are not stopping yet

So I'm asking you to watch ukrainian content, educate yourself about russian aggression against Ukraine. Even if it's hard – it means a lot. Your understanding of the situation means a lot. Your reposts and likes mean a lot.

Watch some videos in tiktok, there's so many ukrainian creators who are willing to share everything that's going on in Ukraine.

For example:

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrRVmDAA/

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMrRVmm8r/

https://www.tumblr.com/folklorespring?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/jensweller?source=share

PLEASE support Ukraine. Even if it's only about educating other people. The world needs to know that russian agression against Ukraine is not over. People are still dying, risking their lives. Ukraine still needs your attention. Thanks.

Here's a little treat to everyone who read to the end

If you wanna hear my sad story about how ME PERSONALLY, how i survived occupation follow mee guys😋😋✌✌

And please repost this

Thankss love and kisses

[bugs1nmybrain]

Random Aizawa x Reader Headcanons

Minors Don't Interact

Warning: nsfw, age gap headcanons but not every reader has to have one, implied fem reader, typos

He's actually chill

Like yes around his students he's stern but he has no reason to be with you. He's still kind of stand off-ish and grumpy but he's kind of funny

Enjoys stay in dates

Busy af but he'll figure out how to make time for you even if it's not all the time

Coffee dates, cat cafe dates, maybe a walk around the neighborhood. He enjoys those if you're going out. Nothing flashy or fancy.

He'll bond with you almost instantly if you love cats. It's a green flag for him. You will have a cat together at some point

He's actually not really rushing for any kind of marriage or major commitment. He's not a cheater and he definitely could spend years with you, it's just not in the forefront of his mine.

Isn't extremely affectionate physically but can be if you really initiate it

He actually somewhat likes watching tv shows with you but always starts dozing off. It's funny to see him trying to fight the zzzs

Doesn't have a lot of relationship experience though he's had maybe 3 or 4 serious partners

Age Gap Entry (not relevent for other headcanons)

When I say age gap I mostly mean early 20s and even up to 27ish. 18 and 19 can count.

He's a little worried of the relationship being inappropriate

But he has a good connection with you. A lot of intellectual and emotional understanding

Gets frustrated when you make irrational and naive decisions

Isn't too keen on the daddy kink thing but he is a little protective of you in that he offers common sense and wisdom.

Can get a little overstimulated by your energy but that's not entirely because of age. He's just a naturally. Is lethargic person when he isn't fighting people

You make him feel hip

Nsfw

Kind of lame 😭

Vanilla af and whenever you have sex he tends to end up tired quick

He's not that horny honestly though he does get urges. And when he manages to have sex he enjoys it a lot

Loves that feeling of release when he cums

Doesn't take him that long but sometimes it can be a bit. His average stamina is maybe 7-9 minutes.

His dick is big. About 6 and a half inches and decently thick. A bit of a shower. 4 inch flaccid.

Idk if I want to talk about balls right now but he's got them for sure

Does not shave but if you have an issue at any point he'll consider cutting down

Bondage is surely a fetish but he doesn't indulge in it that often. Likes using binding cloth but he tends to use the ones he uses least often (he has more than one)

Would be hesitant to do anal. He knows he's big. If you're male he'll kind of loosen up cuz it's sometimes a given but he'd be very realistic about it and make sure your prepped right and won't be uncomfortable

Enjoys blowjobs

Isn't a boobs or an ass guy tbh he's just a whatever looks good in the moment guy. Isn't too picky on body types. Whether you're thin or have curves or are heavier he'll appreciate you and want you

Can only cum once a day typically

He does watch porn sometimes. Especially if he's single

Lost his virginity at 20 or so

His fingers are calloused and you'll be able to tell if he fingers you. The roughness actually helps the friction between them and your clit

Rough most of the time but not in the aggressive way. He always has a habit of starting slow and deep but he ends up picking up quite a bit but it feels good

He's good at sex. It's the Scorpio in him

You're so tight for him. His girth and length make it hard for you not to be. Definitely get some needed foreplay in there cuz you'll need to be moist

Despite not liking the daddy kink, it has happened. He let it happen, too. In that moment, he didn't really care, and it was a little hot if he'll admit. But he usually cringes at it and the idea of it.

Uses condoms always unless you're using birth control such as the pill or IUD and in a long term relationship

He's so good it's unbearable. Such a hottie

[lasirenatarot]

Hello darlings!!💋 This is my first ever PAC reading, hope you like it! If traditional gender roles aren’t applicable to you convert to feminine/masculine energy.

{18+} Your person’s hidden $€xual fantasies about you and will they reveal them to you.

—>Pile 1

9 pentacles; 8pentacles; 6cups; high priestess; the empress; 9 of swords reversed; and more from other decks.

First of all let me just mention: do not shoot the messenger if you do not like what is being said.I am getting kinda weird vibes from your person pile 1! ( i don’t judge tho lololol)

Briefly, the whole vibe I’m getting can be described with this Weeknd song “Professional” or “Six feet under”, again by The Weeknd,  where he sings about a girl who does SW professionally if I can say it like that. The image I’m getting is red lights district if u know what I meannn..

«…You're professional, won’t treat it like it's personal

No, 'cause this is just love, it always makes its way back around…

'Cause everything you've been through made you stronger and every day you learn about yourself..

Depending on somebody else's wealth

But now you know the value of a dollar

And girl I make enough of it to spend

I love the way you've put yourself together.. »

Nowww, I am not saying this man’s fantasies are to cheat with a S*x worker if y’all are in a committed relationship *you can switch the word to masculine energy if it is not applicable to your situation*, I think he will be onto some role-playing sh*t where the feminine is the dominant one and he is PAYING to be dominated, take this how u want. I do not see anything aggressive tho, more like a soft fem-dom, although he may like being restricted in a way as I’m getting Saturn energy. Blindfolding, spending money..

His fantasy is an independent, detached woman who is ALL about her money, an Empress with a man-eater typa energy. The masculine energy from this pile may be dominant in his job/life as a whole, and that is why he would like the exact opposite in bed. He may be very busy and tired as well from his work and this would be another reason for him to like the woman to take the lead. I am also getting cowgirl, riding and some form of exhibitionism (or even str**pers, lap dancing etc.) as additional details. He may like this role playing thing because he sees it as a game which helps him escape some sort of melancholy. Mutual pleasure is a thing for him as well, he likes to work for the feminine’s approval, serving her in a way. Some may not like this as well but I’ll say it anyway- physical beauty and foreign women *fem energy* may be a turn on for this person. He has wounds from his past he should face is sth else I am getting. He may also like to appear as a savior to this fantasy woman I described, a knight on a white horse if u will..

« She don't depend on anybody, know just what to do with her own body..Countin' all that money like a hobby..she don’t give a f**ck about nobody..

She don't need nobody waitin' back home, she got it..

She lick it up just like a candy, She wanna make 'em leave they family

She tryna live a life so fancy, she wanna pull up in a Bentley..

She ain't got time for lovin' , Louis Vuitton her husband, she’d rather die in lustin' ..»

However, I do not think he would openly admit his fantasies, he would like them to stay a secret.

Placements: aquarius venus; Capricorn; scorpio sun; fire placements, possibly leo; mars in gemini. – aqua venus/leo may be for the femme, while Capricorn and scorpio for the masc. or vice versa.

—>Pile 2

This pile will probably be the most romantic one out of the three. I am not getting much s**ual details, besides some sort of very light bondage, more likely handcuffs.

This person’s fantasy is to build a life with you basically, they want to share both the good and the bad moments in life with you, focusing on the good, as a lot of cups fell which gives me party vibes. The masculine energy would like things to start veeeery slow, he is a person who pays a lot of attention to detail, even too much. This person would like to know everything about you, your interests, hardships and opinions. He would be the type to actually listen to what you say and remember little details about you and what you like. I think the connection y’all (people who choose pile2) have is pretty new.

You and your person might still be in the “courtship” stages even. This person is the type to write love letters, send flowers, presents, wine&dine typa man - everything romantic and sweet overall.  I am getting lots of cuddles, hugs etc. -I must say I am very jealous of you pile 2 ahahahh🧿🧿🧿

 His hidden fantasy is to be romantic, give all the love he has to you, and get the same energy back. The reason why is ‘hidden’ I think lies in the fact that he may have been betrayed by past partners, not having got the same amount of energy/love he was giving OR he may have been raised in a family in which emotional people were looked upon as weak ORRR both. I think currently this person has an open heart or is on a mission to become more vulnerable and openly emotional with those he loves, which I think is a very sweet thing.

This person would def share his fantasies about you with you. He would want you to remember the intercourses y’all are having, maybe even be “the best u ever had”, this person also loves and worships your body and is the type to praise/compliment you in bed. Would also love to see you dressing up for him in lingerie, nice dress, full glam and all. This person loves just seeing you shining and happy, would want to make you come every time.

I am also getting they have been waiting looong time for a person like you to come into his life, even if he was in another relationship prior to getting with you. He was probably feeling his soul was “sick” or like something was missing in previous connections. And there was sth missing – the chemistry, conversations and intimacy you two currently have. Some people are meant to be, some not,  and that’s just life.- Astrological placements: Sagittarius, scorpio, venus in pisces, mercury in pisces, embodiment of leo energy for the feminine, I am not getting leo placements tho. The attention to detail is giving virgo moon for some reason to me, although it did not appear in the cards.

—>Pile 3

This may definitely be the k*inky pile. First thing I get is that this person likes taking risks, adventures and is very spontaneous in nature. This person needs constant changes in their s*x life. I feel like they’d try everything taboo you can think of, at least once, and would be open to anything.

!!!!TW!!!!!

The only particular theme I get would be a “fantasy” for this person is power dynamics in which the masculine is the dominant one, while the feminine is very submi$$ive. Also ro**ugh/aggre$$ive s*x. This of course would be consensual and I also get they’d get pleasure from pleasing their partner as well, getting them to experience “a little d€ath”.

Ch*king and heavy BD$M theme, the whole act is a game for them. Their main fantasy would be to tame *metaphorical* in bed an independent woman who would be submissive only for him.

It’s giving you can be the boss by lana del rey

This person may be jealous and possessive tho. (if you are not okay with any of this and feel like they cross a line – LEAVE them).

I also get they maybe have some insecurities in themselves. This may not be applicable for all, but this is a collective reading after all.

They like having a trophy wife typa woman?? /fem.  

I think this person would be open with you about their fantasies.

Astrological placements: aquarius, gemini sun, libra moon, aries, aries mars.

I hope you liked it!! I also added songs which remind me of the vibes I got while reading the cards. Please give me feedback and follow me, and just know that more is coming 🔜🔜

- La Sirena🥀🥀🥀