#malicious that I had to see this shit with my own eyes

[the-unconquered-queen]

That's not Mal, that's Malicious

[fairyysoup]

the devil i know

chapter two: look here all you want

(repost)

fic tag | fic playlist | fic masterlist

pairing(s): crossroads demon!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Eddie gets your car back. You're trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

cw: deal with a demon, inspired by american and european folklore, sacrilegious themes, horror, witch!reader, reader is 21+ in modern day, eddie is immortal, coercion (a bit), sex pact, marking, possessive behavior, animal death, trauma, reader is ostracized by her very religious hometown, depictions of abuse, dark comedy, dead dove: do not eat

please check masterlist and individual parts for content warnings before reading. this fic contains dark themes. your media consumption is your own responsibility.

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Eddie makes sure that the man feels him before he sees him. It may be cruel, but he’s always had a flair for the dramatic– once a Dungeon Master, always a Dungeon Master– and what’s Hell without a little fun and debauchery?

The man smells Eddie’s sickly sweet, smoky aroma first. It’s the first thing anyone notices about him, of course. The shit follows him everywhere, alerting people of his presence like a fucking cat collar with a bell on it. The wind that he conjures always smells at least like a bonfire– at worst, he’s the grand eruption of Mount Vesuvius. He guesses it’s some sort of infernal practical joke (he formed the hellfire club in life, so now he has to remain in it for the rest of time, or some shit. Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know all the answers, just the dumb ones).

Then the man jolts, his eyes flying all around him as he hears Eddie. Or, at least, what Eddie allows him to hear. It begins in whispers, like leviathans in the mists, murmuring and overlapping each other. It rocks slowly toward a crescendo. And then, Eddie’s voice, soft before the man realizes what’s happening to him. 

“Found you.”

There’s a sickening crack, and then the windshield of the car explodes beneath the man’s spine. He barrel rolls to the ground to find Eddie looming over him, staring him down, his eyes dead black and unforgiving.

“Hi, Spencer.” The heel of Eddie’s boot crushes against the man’s chest, holding him down. Eddie’s voice is comically musical, like the crackling of brush just beginning to go up in flames. “Busy tonight, are we?”

The man, Spencer, trembles as he stares up at Eddie. Blood tinges his bottom lip, either from biting it when he hit the windshield, or from coughing up whatever blood exists in his fermented body. 

He gestures at the duffel bag that he’d been holding when Eddie grabbed him, now laying on the ground. “Look, man– I dunno who you are, b-but you can have all the fuckin’ money, it’s right there–”

“I don’t want your fucking money.” Eddie squints at him, trying to gauge Spencer’s thoughts. They’re malicious, yes, but not murderous. He robbed the liquor store down the street, and then he pulled into the motel around the corner to try to check in with the money. He’s dangerous and stupid, but he’s not a killer. Yet.

Eddie didn’t have to read the guy’s mind to know that, though.

“Whose car is this?”

“What?”

“Whose–” Eddie digs his boot harder into the guy’s chest– “Car?”  

“Some fuckin’ small town whore, how should I know?” Now is not the time to play coy. Spencer learns that when Eddie’s foot shoots forward, and the toe of his book connects ungraciously with his chin. Pain rockets through his jaw. “Fuck!”  

“Save it.” Eddie’s temper has grown exponentially with his immortality, he thinks. He wonders sometimes if he’d always been this way, or if Hell has just made him worse. Probably both. “Do you have any idea who you’ve stolen from?”

He’s seen the memory– Spencer, drunk off his ass and running on blind adrenaline from robbing a corner store, stole your car from the parking lot of a diner; the diner where you work. 

You had to walk home in the rain. Eddie’s heart practically aches, watching you come home to an empty apartment, dirty and wet and shivering. He never wants to see it happen to you again as long as you live. He’s promised you that it won’t. 

He also promised they’ll get as good as they gave. And demon or not, Eddie Munson never ever goes back on a promise.

“Hell, I stole from lotsa people,” Spencer chuckles, his head sliding back and forth across the pavement as he rolls his eyes, gargling on the blood in his mouth. “F’yer here to collect, y’can just take the money and go. I ain’t got nothin’ else.”

“Oh, but you do, Spence.” Eddie grins with sharp teeth when he bends down to pick Spencer up by his throat. The flames in his eyes burst to life, roaring red and demonic. A flash of recognition crosses Spencer’s face when he realizes that Eddie is far more than he seems. “See, you stole from my girl. Now you get to suffer.”

Eddie was always intimidating. He made himself appear like that to push people away, until it started to backfire on him, and then it just got worse when he became a demon. It’s a natural instinct for humans to shrink away. He emanates danger, even when he’s not putting on a show– even when his eyes are dark and he isn’t producing fire from his hands. 

That’s one of the things that sealed your fate. You didn’t shrink away from him, even when he tested you. He’s always been a show off, and he’s very egotistical, he won’t lie. He gave you a little taste of his dark side, showed you his hellfire and brimstone, and you called him hot. To his face.

Well, you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. Even if he wasn’t already sold on you, there was absolutely no way he was letting you go after that.

Eddie dumps Spencer on the ground. In Spencer’s head, the haunting voices seem to crash back raucously as magma boiling at the lip of a volcano. A chill sweeps through Spencer’s body as it retreats, as he feels the creeping panic rising in him, the ringing in his ears. Then, as soon as it fades, it’s again overthrown by the chorus, the cacophony of behemoth voices. Overlapping each other, humming along with the slow heartbeat of the drums.

It’s the arc toward the end of the death metal album Eddie wanted to write during his lifetime, but never got the chance to. It has to be good for something, even if Spencer is never going to appreciate Eddie’s musical genius. 

Spencer doesn’t need to know that, though.

Spencer lays trembling, his hands clapped tight around his ears. Nothing will stop it, save time– and by then, Spencer will probably be wishing Eddie had just killed him and gotten it over with.

Eddie steps around Spencer’s body, sighing. If Hell has made him cruel, it’s also made him weirdly just. Great power, great responsibility… all that jazz. 

Yeah, the powers are pretty fucking cool, he won’t lie about that. 

The windshield of the car decompresses itself at Eddie’s touch, the glass creaking and groaning as it fits back into proper shape. From there, it glows bright orange and melts back into one solid pane of glass, back in the way that it had been before Spencer’s back played Happy New Year with it.

Eddie sits in the driver’s seat, his fingers nearly denting the steering wheel where he grips it. He just hopes that you don’t freak out when he gets your car back to you.

You freak out.

Granted, you only made the deal with Eddie yesterday, and you had a long day at work. For you, the afternoon had been painfully slow. Maybe it was a good thing that the diner doesn’t have a major rush every single lunch service, but it just means more of the shit work that your newbie manager, Colin, loves to give to you now that he has the authority to. You don’t know if it’s payback for you making him slice bread during his training, but he’s taking it a little bit too seriously. 

You’re technically a waitress, so it’s really not in your fucking job description, but tonight he made you clean the men’s bathroom. 

Did you know how many men will just ejaculate onto the wall of the men’s bathroom in a small town diner? No. But now you do, and the answer is too many.

You had to walk home, as per usual since your car was stolen a little less than a week ago. And then you got to your apartment complex, got to the last place on the last row of buildings, and your fucking car was there, in your parking space. Beautiful and gleaming and with fresh license plates.

You’re freaking out. You absolutely are– you didn’t think it was going to happen this quickly. You figured there must be some kind of wait period. Demons aren’t obligated to make shit happen right away, are they?

(They’re not. But this demon could care less.)

When you get inside, all it takes is a single whiff of smoke to deduce that he’s there. In your apartment. With all the lights turned off. You flick one on and find nothing.

“Eddie?” You say his name out loud for the first time, your voice muddled with awe. The faintest of murmurs, but to him you may as well have screamed it.

The lights flicker, and in a flash he’s standing before you. Across the room, leaning against the door to the bedroom like a vision. His eyes crackle with fire, a coy smirk on his face. “I like the way you say my name. It’s pretty.”

You startle, your body suddenly functioning apart from your mind. Your back hits the front door you’ve just stepped through, mirroring him.

“Whoa whoa whoa– hey! It’s okay.” He holds his hands out toward you, palms up, like you’re a frightened animal. In a way, you are. “We’ve been through this before, princess. You don’t have to worry about me, I’m just your friendly neighborhood demon.” 

Eddie reminds himself to stop rewatching Spider-Man every time he gets a chance.

It has to be fake, you think. You’re exhausted, he couldn’t be here. And yet the room is filled with his fragrance, suffocating and somehow intoxicating. Like you might die from it but you’ll enjoy it all the same. It’s so magnetic that it nearly pulls you to him, taking a hesitant step forward toward the bedroom and then stopping short.

“How– you’re not– how are you here?” You ask him as softly as you can manage. “I thought you could only show up at a crossroads.”

“Not everything is literal, sweetheart.” He thumps his hand against the door behind him, giving you a dazed smile. “Points of entry and departure. Two paths meeting. Crossroads.”

“Huh.”

Eddie takes in the sight of you steadily, calmly, worried that if he moves too suddenly then you might disappear. You’re wearing a black, retro-style waitress’ dress and running shoes– muddy from your walk home. You clutch your house keys to your chest almost instinctively.

That reminds him of the reason that he’s here– not just to check you out, unfortunately. He brandishes your car keys, dangling them from one crooked finger. “Brought you your car.”

“Yeah, I, uh… I noticed.” After a heavy beat, you look away. Your voice is thick with tears– you’re crying. “Sorry. Thank you. I didn’t, um– I didn’t mean to offend–”

“Hey– You didn’t.” Eddie doesn’t know what to do with your tears– he doesn’t want to see you cry, ever, but he’s spent a little too much time causing tears to know how to effectively stop them anymore. He places the keys on the counter nearest him, leading into the kitchen. “I know, it’s not what you’re used to.”

“It’s not,” you agree. “It’s nice.”

Eddie rocks back against the door, pressing into it. The wood creaks under his weight. “Nice,” he echoes. “Haven’t been called that in a while. It’s… nice.”

You snort, and it’s enough to have him grinning all over again. You turn away slightly, and when you turn back you smile at him sheepishly. Trying to suck back the tears that had sprung forth so quickly. “How did you get the car back?”

He squints. He thinks to remind you that he has magic, something that a normal person wouldn’t be able to use– except, he didn’t just poof it into your parking space. He drove it, like a dumbass.

He clicks his tongue. Be cool. “I had a talk with the guy who stole it. He won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

���Oh my god– you killed him?” 

Not that cool. “No! No, I– I would nev–” you’re a demon– “I would seriously consider the consequences–”

“This is unbelievable.” 

“Hey, I got you the car back. Without killing! Even though it took so so so much impulse control, please clap.” He tilts his head and grins at you. He figures he probably looks insane with his glowing eyes and cheshire cat smile.

You nod and take a calculated step forward. You point at the open wine bottle on your kitchen counter. “I’m getting a drink.”

He shrugs. “You own the place.”

“No, I don’t,” you scoff, approaching him. The scent of smoke grows stronger with each step, until you’re engulfed in it. “I pay rent up the ass because I can’t afford any place else.”

Eddie watches you pour a glass of wine with the interest of a collector looking at a piece of fine art. “What would you prefer?” 

The air hangs thick with implication. What do you want me to do? Eddie holds the edge of the counter with his ringed fingers, watching your brow screw up in contemplation. He wants to reach forward and smooth it over with his thumb, get rid of any worries you might have.

He’s a sorry son of a bitch, is what he is.

“What I want–” you stop, your eyes falling to his hand. You stare at it for a long time. Hard knuckles that you’re sure have drawn blood, clunky rings like weapons. You wonder why he keeps them there indefinitely, why he chooses those accessories, keeps this form. He’s intimidating, dangerous-looking, and yet you feel a weird sort of comfort around him. 

He’s the most dangerous thing in any room, and he’s asking what you want.

You look up into the demon’s smoldering eyes, and take a breath. “What I need is to not take home pocket change, because my shithead manager won’t stop skimming my tips. Y’know I trained the fucker?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah. Piece of shit won’t stop giving me crap work just because he can, and I’m– I’m–”

Eddie wordlessly nudges the wine glass towards you with the tip of his finger. You grab it and take a long gulp. 

You sort of stutter and cough, trying to catch your breath when your tears of exhaustion keep wanting to spill. You’re furious. You’re so fucking angry that it’s vibrating in your bones, threatening to wither and crack them under its force. You start breathing in heavy, short bursts of air that don’t do much to calm you down at all.

“I’m barely making enough to cover my rent even with my tips,” you continue. “But now he’s stealing them and I’m having to skip breakfast to save food and I can’t find another job because the people in this town fucking hate me–”

A warm hand settles onto your back, heavy between your shoulder blades. A little bit of the tension in your shoulders melts and releases, but along with it comes the tears you were holding back. You shiver, leaning further into his touch as though it’ll ground you. Your sinuses are sore and your eyes sting as hot tears slide down your cheeks, but you let Eddie hold you up. 

“Want me to kill that guy for you?” Eddie smirks when you cough out a little laugh that sounds more like a hiccup, but he’ll take it. “What? I’m so fucking serious. I’m not gonna let anything hurt you anymore. What kind of a demon daddy would I be if I did?”

“Shut up.” You bat his chest with the back of your hand. He chuckles, and the sound is as warm and soothing as his hand on your back. Your lip wobbles, your brow screwing up as you try to even out your voice, but you just come out sounding like you’ve got something stuck in your throat. “What are you, a genie with three wishes? I tell you my sorrows and you snap your fingers and fix it?”

“You get a lot more than three with me, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. His eyes are unwavering, his hand stroking lightly back and forth between your shoulders in a way that has you hypnotized, leaning towards him. “And it may take more than just snapping my fingers, but yes. I’ll do it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re married, baby.” He holds your gaze gently, hoping not to upset you any further. “‘Til death do we part,’ right? We’re a team now. Your needs, my needs. That’s why you signed the contract. That’s why I gave you this.” Eddie’s warm hand ghosts over your wrist, and the mark that bears his name seared into your skin. The mark tingles, itching with recognition at his touch. “Just say the word and it’s yours.”

You’re still crying. Big, glossy tears falling down your cheeks, making him falter. He’s floundering. He doesn’t know how to make them stop, and the more he tries to get you to tell him, the harder they’re falling. You aren’t hyperventilating anymore, thank fuck, but you’re still quietly sobbing, and you’re not telling him what he needs to know.

Eddie tries searching for it. Squints at you, tries reaching into your mind to find what you need– sort of the same way that he saw the memory of you and the fucker who stole your car. All he gets is one repetitive thought, spinning around in the forefront of your mind. 

Hold me. Hold me. Hold me.

“C’mere,” he tells you softly. Eddie reaches forward, turning you slowly by the shoulder until you’re facing him. He watches your face for any kind of disgust– there’s nothing, save the big tears that keep falling. 

He pulls on your shoulder, just barely, and you crumple. You face plant into his chest and take a deep, shuddering breath that rattles in your lungs and tastes like a campfire. Eddie is warm as a space heater and his arms are strong, wrapped around you tightly to keep you from falling. 

Eddie holds you until he feels you stop crying. He thinks. Maybe you’re still crying, but it isn’t shaking your entire body anymore, and he feels like that’s a move in the right direction.

“Just say the word,” he speaks into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. A timid hand comes up to pet the back of your head. He hasn’t held someone like this in ages. “I can try to read your mind, but then I get the wrong idea, and you won’t like what I’ll do. I’m willing to do anything for you, honest. But y’gotta tell me, baby.”

You hesitate, and then you pull back, puckering your lips in a way that distracts him. He fixates on them, tilting his head as he watches the way they move. Remembering how they felt on his own when he kissed you last night. He hasn’t kissed someone in ages, either.

“No killing Colin,” you conclude, knocking him out of his reverie. He groans. “I’m serious! He’s a dick, but I don’t want that on my conscience. Please, Eddie.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles, pouting and stomping his feet. “But you wouldn’t feel that way if you saw the kind of torture we can whip out in ye olde Hell. Make your skin crawl right the fuck off. Ooh! That’s actually a good idea–”

“Maybe, sometime.” You shake your head. “But not now. Just… get him to quit. Or something. Okay?” 

Your hand presses into Eddie’s chest. It feels like a blast straight into his infernal heart. His eyes fall to it, taking in the willing touch that you give him and letting it define his entire being for a second.

Oh, he’s in trouble. He’s really, really done for.

“Okay, sweetheart. Anything you want.” 

His kiss is a ghost of a touch on your cheek, just barely a whisper of skin on skin. Just enough to make you gasp and nearly turn your head, to lock his lips with yours. You practically fight the urge to do it. Your heartbeat kicks up– not for the reason you think it should, either. You aren’t scared. He doesn’t make you nervous– at least, not in an uncomfortable way. 

You want Eddie to press his lips to yours, and you want him to hold you again. You want him to stay indefinitely. Make a home on your couch and hold you in his lap all night. You think that if you asked him, he might do it. Anything you want, right?

But he pushes away from the kitchen counter, and he’s gone as quickly as he appeared, in a rush of air carrying his scent. With a sigh, you sink back on your heels, finding yourself wishing that his arms were still there around you, to catch you before you fall.

You lift your glass of wine to your lips. The imprint of his name still itches on your wrist.

[princessbrunette]

bbf!rafe eeeeek!!! 💞 imagine if you ever invited a boy over while rafe and your brother are chilling!! Man would be angrier than your own family ! heck, he’d probably throw him out himself !!

╭────── · · 🐰 · · ──────╮

the two of them are lounging in the living room when he watches you pass by, a boy he’s never seen before being lead by your hand— the two of you headed upstairs. rafe does a double take, staring in disbelief as your brother totally ignores it — too focused on the game.

“you—you see that shit, man? your little sister is taking some low-life up to her bedroom, alone.” rafe leans over to him urgently, jutting a thumb over his shoulder in reference. your brother offers him no more than a glance, shrugging a shoulder as he brings his beer bottle to his mouth.

“so? she’s grown. can do what she wants, i don’t care.”

rafe’s eyes flutter in irritation as he licks his lips, shifting impatiently on the couch. “so? so she’s allowed to just have any guy round? she’s your little sister, man you’re meant to be protecting her. you think i just let sarah march in with whoever the fuck she wants? no, because— because i’m the man of the house. you gotta get that shit in check bro, or she’s not gonna respect you.” rafe manipulates. truthfully, he didn’t give a shit who sarah brought home as long as it wasn’t a guy he had beef with. that was simply an excuse to get your brother to see eye to eye with him.

it seems rafe’s rambling was starting to get on his nerves, distracting him from the game. he rolls his eyes, turning to him.

“shit, you care so much why don’t you go kick the guy out then?” he snaps and rafe sits back, thinking.

“yeah… yeah okay. i think i will.”

the door to your bedroom swings open a moment later, your head whipping round from where you sat on the bed. he leans on the doorframe, staring the guy down with his arms crossed over his chest.

“rafe!” you exclaim, horrified and he doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“out.” he orders to your company, the guy glancing between you and rafe.

“uh— wh…”

“am i speaking another language, bro? get out of her room before i come over there and drag you out myself. go.” he speaks slowly, aggressively, condescendingly like the dumbest man on earth was sat on your bed. the guy offers you an apologetic glance and scurries off.

rafe stares him down until he’s out of sight before casually swinging your door shut, shutting you in with him.

“rafe why the hell did you—”

“bet you thought that shit was real cute, huh?” he asks, beginning to pace as he scratches at his cheek, barking out a quiet malicious laugh. “yeah… yeah this had to be some… some ruse to make me, what? jealous?”

“he was my friend.” you avert your eyes, not even bothering to sound convincing anymore. he scoffs, shaking his head before blowing air out his mouth. slowly, his lips forming the ‘o’ shape as he does so audibly.

“friend, right. okay… you think i won’t beat the hell out of any guy that touches you? like — like i- i care who’s watching? nah, nah… maybe i should let your brother know what you’ve been lettin’ me do to you on the sly.”

“rafe.” you pout as he draws closer.

“what, you scared? the kid doesn’t give a shit who’s shovin’ his dick in you. made that crystal clear downstairs. so why should it matter if it’s me, huh?” he tugs at your jaw, dragging a thumb messily over your bottom lip. you let out a whine of disagreement and his eyes roll back before leaning down into your space. “you dont see me whorin’ myself out to randoms the same way you do, do you? why would i? my best friends little sister spreads her legs for me whenever i want it. would be a waste, right? i don’t wanna see you bringing home any more guests. is that understood?”

╰────── · · 🐰 · · ──────╯

[lexxiisstuff]

𝑰𝒕 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

Rindou Haitani Drabble

**************

"Come on sweetheart give us a smile" You kept your head down walking silently with your books in your hand. You had just finished a late Uni class and really didn't have time for this. Not to mention you absolutely loathed confrontation. The men on the the street hollered and yelled at you loudly.

"You're a bit of a bitch aren't you babe!" You tensed at that comment and wished you had earphones.

"Come on then show us that pretty face"

"Lift your skirt-" The comment was abruptly cut short and all the men had suddenly became silent. You lifted and turned your head curiously to see the purple headed boy you'd known for months. He walked past the men twirling his favorite knife. You let out a breath of relief.

"Nothing else to say?" He asked the middle aged men that were sat on plastic chairs. They were probably drunk. "That's a shame. I wish I had a better reason to cut off your tongues, although I'm sure she's not the only woman you've done this too"

The men stumbled and you stood watching them apologize over and over shaking and trembling. Rindo only tsked. He tapped the knife lightly against one of the men's heads and gave a malicious grin you'd never been on the receiving end of. "Go. and if I see you any of you near here again I guarantee you will not appreciate the outcome" They took off instantly.

Haitani crossed the road approaching you. When he was about a foot away he gave you a soft assessing look.

"You okay?" He asked grabbing the heavy book bag from your shoulders and slinging it on his own.

"Yes thank you" You smiled up at him and watched his eyes soften even further.

Rindo Haitani would never ever admit this but he had a weakness. A weakness that came in the form of a beautiful, bright, intelligent girl. You. From the moment he saw you walking home from Campus one day he'd made it his mission for you to notice him. To befriend him. To depend on him. And he could confidently say mission accomplished.

The two of you had formed an odd friendship. You saw each other almost everyday as he'd always wait for you to get off the bus and then walk you the rest of the way home. Sometimes you would eat a meal with him and others he'd keep you company while you did your homework on a park bench.

You were desperately in love with him and he had no idea.

He was head over heels in love with you and you were clueless.

"I'm sorry I was late" He whispered as the two of you fell back into a comfortable rhythm of him walking you home.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm sure you're busy plus you don't have to walk me home anymore Yunno" you told him and he glared down at you.

"Don't start that again. I like walking you home. Talking to you is the best part of my day" Fuck. Shit. Had that really slipped out.

You blushed furiously. Surely he meant in a friendly way right? "You're sweet sometimes"

"Don't fucking tell anyone" He muttered playfully "I have a reputation to uphold"

"Yes sir Haitani sir" You mocked saluted and he couldn't help but smile. Adorable girl he thought fondly.

"Don't be cute" He grinned. "I'm in the mood for ice cream"

He grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers and you felt the butterflies swarm your tummy. It was the first time he’d done something like that

“You don’t mind do you?” He teased

“No not at all” You squeezed his hand

“Good because I’m going to do it more often” He bumped your shoulder playfully

“Well Uhm I don’t hold hands with just anybody” You whispered

“You do with your boyfriend”

You sputtered “My boyfriend?!”

He grinned

“Haitani this is not your confession” You released his hand and blocked your ears “You have to do this when I’m not wearing ratty clothes and you have to ask so take it back”

He laughed loudly “Fine I’ll ask you tomorrow. Wear something cute”

“Haitani! You’re supposed to surprise me!”

He took your hand again and kissed your palm “You’ll pretend to be surprised”

You rolled your eyes

[irisintheafterglow]

hii i would like to request the premise of a feral gojo over reader getting hurt or in danger 🤤 please don't feel obligated to write tho only if u feel like it :3

cross them, cross me (gojo x you)

wc: 1.29k

cw/tags: brief but explicit violence including descriptions of blood (satoru beats the shit out of a curse lmao), swearing, angst/fluff with a happy ending, established-ish relationship with pet names baby and sweetheart

note: ah feral gojo my beloved. i think i got a little carried away with writing the violence aspect but what can i say! he really did go feral when you got hurt! anyways, hope you like this anon and thank you for the sweet ask <3

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated :))

The sound of bones crunching between his fingers is euphoric.

One by one, he takes the Curse’s limbs in his free hand, the other effortlessly holding it by the neck against a wall. Its desperate wriggles and squirms are futile and pathetic. With a tightened grip, the wretched body parts in Satoru’s palm wither and become a limp slug of skin. He’d tuned out the Curse’s howls of agony minutes ago, the world around him falling silent as he focused all of his energy into making the Curse beg for death. The phrase “seeing red” was familiar to him, sure, but the hue tinting his vision now was a deep shade of crimson. Whether that was from the blood or his own concentration, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. 

“What, did you give up?” His taunting smile turns into a snarl when the Curse fails to answer him the first time. It slumped itself against the wall, but he woke it up with a firm slap across its face. It wasn’t allowed to die, not yet. Not until he’d had his fill of its cries. “Learn your lesson yet?” It coughs out a plea for mercy, but he isn’t satisfied. Times like these were the only time his power truly went directly to his head. 

“Gojo.” Nanami’s voice temporarily breaks him from his trance, but Satoru doesn’t bother glancing his colleague’s way. His hand still remains around the neck of the Curse, scathing blue eyes burning holes into its face. “It’s time to depart.”

“I’m not done yet,” he hisses, embedding the Curse’s face further into the wall. The suit of his coworker is pristine and unscathed; his own uniform, on the other hand, was soaked in blood that wasn’t his own. No, he wasn’t done yet. Not until every Curse within a ten mile vicinity knew exactly what would happen to them if they attempted to harm you again.

“They’re asking about you,” Nanami states impatiently with a quick look at his watch. “And I’m working overtime.”

“Five more minutes,” Satoru commands and Nanami has no choice but to obey, releasing an exhausted sigh and leaving his superior to his crusade. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, realizing that the Curse must have died while he wasn’t looking. He examines the lifeless creature with pure disgust, flinging it so intensely at the wall behind him that its innards splatter like wet paint. “You are below me,” he says to no one in particular, but he can sense the frightened energy of the weaker Curses inhabiting the building. “Touch them and you will meet the same fate.” 

Once he’s exited the abandoned hospital, taken down the Curtain, and found the alley corner where he’d instructed Nanami to watch you, all remaining malicious intent in his body disappears. You’re scowling at him, your default expression when in his presence, and it reassures him that you’ll be okay. 

“What took you so long?” You wince and try to adjust yourself against the wall, swatting his hand away when he crouches and tries to help you. “I thought Nanami said there was only one Curse in the building.” He shrugs and you give him a skeptical look, slightly less potent than usual due to your injured state. “Toying with a Curse while I’m bleeding out? That’s a new low, even for you.” He knows you mean it in a joking matter, but the darkness that passes over his face after he laughs doesn’t escape you. It unnerves you, a little bit, trying to imagine what he was doing to the Curses when you weren’t there.

“What can I say? I was just trying to make you miss me,” he replies with only the tiniest hint of hesitation. He’s put his blindfold back on, you notice, but the subtle dip in his eyebrows tells you that he’s not revealing the whole truth. “I’m gonna lift you now–”

“I can walk on my own,” you protest, rooting a hand on the concrete and trying to push yourself up to no avail. You fall back against the wall and glare at his silently patronizing expression. “I just need a second.” 

“We don’t have a second. We need to clear out before the police get here,” he reminds you and you wave him off. “C’mon, just let me help you.”

“I can do this on my own,” you reiterate while simultaneously failing to stand. “It’s because you’re watching me. Just turn around.”

“If you wanna see my butt, just say so,” he grins and you roll your eyes. “But, really. I’m gonna lift you now, so try not to wiggle.” His arms extend to cradle beneath your legs and lower back and you’re surprised to feel the fabric of his uniform, not Infinity, when your hands try to push him away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you stammer in panic. He pulls away immediately and his teasing expression softens. You let him brush the dirt from your cheeks with one of his hands, the other coming to cover yours on his chest. His heartbeat is unwaveringly steady, his body warm beneath your fingers. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. We’re okay,” he reassures you. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you now.”

“It’s gonna hurt when I get up,” you whisper back. “A lot.” 

“I know it will, but it’ll only hurt for a few seconds.” Your exhales are too uneven. He had to get you back to the school if he didn’t want you to continue losing blood. 

“Seconds? What about the car ride back?”

“Oh no, baby. We’re not taking the car.” He shakes his head and gently laces his fingers with yours. “I’m warping us back so we can get that wound taken care of faster.” His grip on your fingers tightens, a crack in his composure revealing a glimpse of his own anxiety. “I just need you to let me help you.” After a few more moments, you nod and he doesn’t hesitate, scooping you into his arms before you can even register the searing pain in your side. The world goes white for a few seconds, just as he said, but then your head finds his shoulder and the pulse in your ears quiets. 

You wake later in the day to the sun casting an orange glow through your bedroom window. As you sit up, the pain in your side is still present but significantly dulled. When your eyes adjust to the light, you finally notice the figure slumped in your desk chair, a respectful distance away from your bed. 

“Satoru.” His eyes fly open and he’s in front of you within seconds, searching your face with concern and running his thumb over your knuckles. You give him the smallest smile you can muster and he reciprocates with a blinding grin. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, adjusting his position so that your legs can swing off the side of your bed. He rests on one knee in front of you, holding one hand in his, the other continuing to caress your face. “How are you feeling?”

“A little shitty,” you admit. “But, not nearly as shitty as earlier.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles. “Need me to get you anything? A snack? Two snacks?” Your laugh feels warmer than the setting sun and you shake your head, lightly tugging him to stand up and crawl under the covers with you. “I guess this works too,” he mumbles against the top of your head, pulling you close until you’re snug against his body. 

“What were you doing in the time you were killing that last remaining Curse?” He hums thoughtfully and you swear his muscles flex protectively around your body. 

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. For now, we both need rest.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[comfreyhollywings]

pac reading - need self-love tips? c'mere.

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             L O A D I N G . . .

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pile 1. 

protect yourself. 

i don’t think you quite know how valuable your energy is

like.. guys. i feel like we need to have a lesson solely on the beauty of pouring into your own cup, and to force yall to see how others are inspired by that.

and when you’re in that state where you can just flow; to protect yourself, you naturally shine so bright.

just now— a black wisp of smoke just hovered right in front of my eyes before dissipating. there’s a lot more smoke coming out of my candle purging out this smoke as we speak. 

that’s naturally a sign for me that.. if you love yourself; if you want to invest more into yourself, purge the things that are unnecessarily sucking your energy away.

aka energy vampires (doesn’t have to be this figure, could be an energy in your life)

like.. i think… when you properly pour into yourself, you tend to have a lot to give. while this is naturally a good thing to have such a generous heart, you can’t give forever. you can’t give from a place of depletion 

especially if others only know how to take, take, take. 

there’s something a former mentor said to me in this regard.

“the issue is that giving relentlessly can solicit the very sort of people who have no second thoughts about taking, and never giving. and it's not even always malicious. it's just their dysfunction meets another dysfunction.” 

take it from me, someone who’s currently still learning this lesson right now. 

i will be so real with y’all

 i’m currently going through a period where i’ve distanced myself from my partner of (seven-ish) months after learning that i was the one putting in more effort in emotional labor than my partner. 

and it’s not even that my partner had malicious intentions about it 

it was just that 

he hadn’t developed the emotional maturity let alone apply it to his life. and it’s shit that he had to figure out. 

because of this, i felt as if i had to partly take on the burden. not that it was a conscious thing, but it was moreso subconscious where i was driven by kindness to pour into him

as that’s what any decent human being would do, right?

but the taking. it kept taking, taking, and taking. the reciprocity wasn’t really… there much anymore. 

codependent tendencies? yes. and it’s shit he individually has to figure out. 

the same energy applies to your situation. i’m not sure if these are things you also are sorting out right now, but please know this: 

you can act from a place of kindness. absolutely. depending on your situation, you don’t have to cut them off. (if you’re in an abusive dynamic, that’s another story. you CANNOT fix them. you CANNOT change them, period. please get out asap as much as you can. i’ll provide resources. ) 

you’ll naturally feel like an asshole when you set up boundaries, when you distance yourself, etc etc. 

but the thing is that you will need that. to drive yourself to the brink of exhaustion for the sake of others leaves you with little energy for yourself.

like… you fight for others, but who will fight for you? you know? especially when you don’t even recognize the situation you’re in?

prioritize yourself more. examine your needs closely. get out of situations that you know is going to drain you. 

maybe it’ll feel like shit initially. like, of course these are bad habits you need to address.

but i promise you, it’s worth it. please keep going. 

pile 2. 

be gentle with yourself.

two things you must foster: your autonomy and your sense of abundance.

in simple terms: you’re worth being a fucking person standing on your own, you stubborn little fucking gem.  

you’re not like. this idealized concept that people make out of you.

you’re not a goddamn concept.

you’re a person. a living, breathing person with needs and wants and dreams 

goddammit you deserve to be loved.

please treat yourself with a lot more kindness and autonomy than you have ever done with the people you love.

gods know you deserve it 

like christ 

this is my pile who probably has self-esteem issues, huh (i say that as if i don’t have weird shit going on with my self-esteem but whatever) 

work, work, work. it’s always work with others. it’s always prioritizing their needs before your own.

it’s the tight ball you feel in your chest that gets lodged up inside your throat. it’s the hard swallow as you bite your tongue back. it’s the coughing when you’re in the middle of a sentence before someone takes over without any regard for you. 

and it’s not like you’re unable to redirect the spotlight over to you. you absolutely can. 

however. like

god forbid you make mistakes right? like, god forbid that you don’t run your mind through a fucking cheese grater if you’re not like a radar.

god forbid you’re not constantly detecting what preconceived faults you have of yourself. 

because if you don’t, are you even worthy of love at all? 

here’s a secret: you don’t need to work to earn love. your self-worth isn't dictated by how much you pump out to the world.

yes, it requires work to keep love alive, but there’s a vast difference between that and EARNING love. 

you are worthy. you are seen. you are accepted for the way that you are.

all of you.

your flaws, your tics, your anger, your hurt, and your sorrow. 

and likewise, your love, your passions, your healing, and your joy. 

you are worth being gentle to yourself. you are worth the grace you extend out for others. you are worth taking up space. 

take off the mask. take off the notion of “perfection”. take off the need to people please. take off the need for constant validation outside of yourself.

sit with yourself. journal. purge. and forgive yourself for the things you’ve been unfair to you about. all of these judgments and old standards that don’t serve you anymore, that you punish yourself for. 

you’re enough. stop it. 

c’mere pile 2, let me hug you.

you are worthy of it all, my loves.

pile 3. 

listen to yourself. give yourself the space to let your voice be heard. 

you have such a wonderful, unique, and creative voice that you restrain others from hearing. 

it roots back to pile 2’s perceived ‘imperfections’ that they try to adhere to

thus, resulting in them being harsh on themselves. 

so let me tell you this: you are lovely. 

and your voice deserves to be heard. 

additionally, your voice is not just deserving 

it’s needed for a time like this. you have a message specifically encoded to you that you’ll have to ground and manifest into the world through your creative works, and it’s time for you to see that.

it’s time for you to honor the creativity bestowed upon you because that is your voice that’ll touch people’s hearts. 

that’s the voice that you need to hear from yourself the most. 

let things flow, let things come, let them be like water. let your creations permeate and adapt to objects, places, and people. 

let it breathe, let it live rather than killing it prematurely. 

as i’m writing, i’m hearing this song: frequency by jhene aiko. 

a lot of that song talks about blessings and freedom. freeing cities, freeing their seed (the next generation), giving freedom and mercy. it talks about anointing, pouring that oil so that the generations before and after can become kings and queens. 

this is a very universal and empathetic song that got channelled out.

so i feel like in many forms no matter the genre, whether it’s through a medium like writing, game dev, videos, podcast, art, and so on 

all of your works have these themes in common: freedom, blessings, and generations. 

what i want to warn you about though in pursuing your art forms

don’t let ego get the best of you. 

now i’m not necessarily talking about arrogance (though that very well might be the case but that normally lies within a much deeper issue of having your self-esteem bloat as a way to overcompensate for your idea of self-worth) 

i’m talking about letting your insecurities of looking ‘stupid’ get the best of you because you risk ‘cringing’ at your works. 

but the thing with art is that you’re going to have to be stupidly earnest because that is your entire essence. 

and if you think about it, a lot of cringe is just

sincere? and earnest?

just get it out there. don’t compare yourself to anybody. your journey is your own, so there’s no need to be anyone or anything

be you 

that’s all that matters. 

trust me, the you authentically reading this is more powerful than any heroes/idols that you’ve ever grown up putting on a pedestal. 

kill your heroes, put down that pedestal. 

you’re just as worthy of creating; your heroes are no better than you. 

[wannaeatramyeon]

Gun and Goo with Reader: Soft Spot

G/N. Platonic or romantic. Soft. Finger in my ears, screeching, ignoring the last chapter. Masterlists

"Why are you so mean to me!" Goo jabs his finger at Gun.

"But so nice to them," then turns it accusingly at you.

In Gun's hands are the pastries he had bought for you. The ones you didn't even ask for but he knows you love. Striding across the road, into the bakery and queuing patiently all the while completely ignoring Goo's request to add a simple coffee to the order.

Well first, you suppose it is a bit of a dick move from Gun. He was right there anyway. 

Second and most important of all, none of Goo's tantrum is your problem. He could have always got his own damn coffee if he wanted. Idiot.

You lunge forward and bite, teeth clacking together.

Thank fuck for his lightning reflexes. Goo retracts his finger just in time, eyes narrowed behind his glasses and nostrils flared.

"Asshole." Goo growls.

"I haven't done anything." A smirk spreads over your face, and in your hand you reveal his precious car key. "...Yet."

You sprint off towards Goo's baby, with the blonde screeching closely behind.

To the side, Gun watches you both with disinterest. Until you manage to clamber into the car first, lock the doors, and Goo is banging on the outside demanding to be let in.

Gun, usually impassive and stone-faced, cracks a small smile at your antics.

.

.

You sit on the floor between Goo’s long legs. Knees nudging at your shoulders and nimble fingers plaiting your tresses.

Every now and then he tugs maliciously when you move your head at a less than ideal angle.

"Hold still, Angel." He purrs. 

You hear the artificial sweetness he pours into his words even as your scalp feels sore. You don't know why you continue to let him do this, that horrid, mean, little shit-

"Your hair is like silk," Goo comments, interrupting your thoughts and you're reluctant to admit that maybe this is why. He can be nice, in his own way. "Unlike that ugly bastard,"  he adds, throwing a smug look at Gun, sitting next to him on the sofa.

A moment later, Goo declares himself a genius.

"There!" he beams at his handiwork. 

He didn't think it was possible, but he's made you even cuter. (Damn, maybe he really is a genius.)

Chooses to ignore that your hairdo is lopsided. Pulled too tight in some areas and too loose in others. Resembles more of a bird’s nest than anything more sophisticated to the trained and untrained eye.

Pulling you to your feet, Goo slings his arm around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He coos into your ear, paying you saccharine compliments and bragging about himself at the same time.

.

.

Goo looks after you, in a different way than Gun. And if you can even call it looking after.

He's the one that prods and pinches, leaves marks and scars of his own, except only he is allowed to do so. God forbid anyone who ever takes aim at you, because Goo will have his sword against their neck before they could even blink.

Gun is the one that takes care of you. A steady constant, without the lowest lows or the highest highs of his blonde partner. Has his own brand of mean and derisive, though still silently assures your wellbeing.

Often you wonder what they see in you. You have none of the prowess Gun looks for, or insanity that Goo prefers.

Sometimes you ask. A question thrown casually but neither ever gives you a complete answer.

It would have, should have played on your mind more-

Yet there's no hiding the twinkle in Goo’s eyes when he looks at you, the gentleness of Gun's touch when he handles you.

It's hard to deny the soft spot you occupy in their heart. You know they would rather die than ever admit it, but their actions speak far louder than their words.

[mushroomates]

the fellowship and if i’d punch them in the face and likelihood of me doing so:

note: i have punched people in the face exactly two (2) times in my life. once when we were kids i decked my sister on the trampoline and most recently i hit a friend in my sleep when reaching for my alarm in a dazed state. the likelihood of me punching anyone in the face, intentionally and maliciously is very, very slim.

frodo: no. if i would not punch most people and frodo is a representation of “most people” i cannot see myself punching him. also i feel as if any disagreements would be felt verbally and swiftly, and an agreement would be met rather quickly. he seems like a reasonable guy. 3/10 i do not feel as though it would happen or that if given the chance i would proceed

sam: no. is a really good friend and person. least punchable out of the hobbits and i feel like if we’d got in a fight it would end up with dirt being flung at each other not punches. worse case scenario i feel like if we really got into it it would be passive aggressive or cast-iron based bludgeoning. 2/10 would not harm a hair on this man’s toes

merry: no. he has little cousin energy- i’d give him a noogie and pinch his cheeks but never sock him in the face. i could see us roughhousing and maybe even exchange blows but in the face? nah. just look at the little guy. i love his lopsided lil smirk. 4/10 limited fisticuffs, nothing serious

pippin: yes. he seems like he needs a good face full of knuckles and who am i to deny him. especially when he was younger. i like the dude but it just seems like something that would happen. im sure gandalf would slip me a pocket full of coins after. 8/10 would clobber this fellow

legolas: yes. almost certainly. would i get shot to shit by a million arrows? oh absolutely, but that would not stop me. i’m going at that man like a balrog out of moria. i don’t know why exactly i want to punch this pretty boy so bad but i know i do. 9.5/10 would punch again

gimli: no. one of least punchable of the fellowship in my eyes- one, because he would absolutely body me if i so much as raised a hand and two because i would never. he’d have to say some pretty insane shit to even get me to consider. 1/10 no jabs ever exchanged

gandalf: maybe. it can go either way. on the one hand, he is an immortal demi god who has been through hell and back so what’s one more fist to the face- on the other hand he takes the form of a grandpa which means i’d have a harder time mentally. however i’m naturally predisposed to punching wizards so given the right opportunity, yes. 5/10 chance of slugging

aragorn: no. he’d drop kick me to valinor before i could even raise my fist. also, he just seems like a chill guy. i feel like the only possible reason id ever even consider fighting this man is if i needed to die honorably very quickly and by a noble hand or if i had a chance at winning arwens hand, like a joust for the princess of sorts. i’d still lose, though. 2/10, id absolutely miss any hit thrown his way. complete biffage.

boromir: no. i’d let this man punch me and thank him for it. he is a fundamentally like able dude. how could i harm this beautiful man, a single father of two full grown adult hobbits. i just have so much love for him in my heart that i can’t even imagine raising a hand against him. 0/10 will not lay a finger on this lovely large lad.

gollum: yes. id punt this little bastard across mordor in my sleep. unprovoked. i hate his crust nails and his black hole of a loincloth. i feel bad for him, sure, but not bad enough to stop me from giving him a good ol fashioned wallop. 12/10 im gonna beat him up with my own two handsies, precious.

[a-very-tired-jew]

Finally got an anti-Zionist definition of Zionism

An Israeli was brave enough to pop into the Dropout Discord’s Palestine channel today (May 5th, 2024) and ask what definition of Zionism they were using. While most people all had the same base of “Jews having their own state in their homeland” every single one of them goes off the rails with their own respective definition and conspiracy.

The first person said this:

Fig. 1. First person responding to the Israeli gives their definition of Zionism.

Notice that they say Zionism is the idea that Israel is uniquely and solely the rightful homeland of the Jews. This implies that there’s a malicious intent in Zionism towards non-Jews within Israel. This person has likely never heard of Kahanism, but in their mind Zionism and Kahanism are likely the same.

Here’s the second person to respond:

Fig. 2. Second response uses refers to anti-Zionist. Jews and their supposed definition.

Now, I know a bunch of anti-Zionist Jewish groups and people and I have never heard this particular definition. I’ve only heard this from extreme antisemites who hide behind the guise of being anti-Zionist progressives and actual terrorist groups trying to create a false antisemitic conspiracy narrative. However, this is my own personal experience and this could be the case, as the user says this is what is said in their circles. And if it’s true then it’s a conspiracy driven alt reality version of things as it denies all evidence to the contrary. There are whole levels to this that ignore the non-Jewish Israelis, the rights that they have in Israel, their representation in the government, and so on.

and the third person to respond is someone I’ve talked about before. This is the Jew who claims they were indoctrinated and all their elders are brainwashed and just need to “open their eyes to the truth.”

Fig. 3. Third response from a user who expands on Fig. 1. User’s definition and adds their own conspiracy.

I want to point out that this token Jew who believes others are indoctrinated actively believes the Israeli is making it so only Jews can be citizens. This is not any policy I can find, nor is it something I’ve seen even talked about outside of the most extremist elements. I think they’re referencing the 2018 stuff about Jews having the right to self determination, setting Hebrew as the National language, and government endorsement of settlers. But that’s far from the Israeli government and Zionism stating that Israel is for Jews and only Jews, and active programs to remove non-Jews. It’s something that, once again, would only come from antisemitic groups who want to generate strife through a particular narrative.

These are the definitions that they’re working with and/or believe. It’s no wonder you can’t actually talk to these activists because these definitions are laced with rhetoric from terrorist groups and antisemites. There’s traces of Jewish supremacy, world control, and other tropes throughout, and what’s sad is that a self confessed Jewish person believes it. Not only do they believe it, they’ve been extremely vocal in the server about it. They have so much to unpack that I can’t imagine what brought them to this level of conspiratorial thinking regarding Jews and Zionism.

It takes a lot of work to get people to see their conspiracy theories for what they are and that they’ve been misled. It’s easier to fall into them than to crawl out of that hole and realize you’ve been radicalized. That takes time, self reflection, and often a big “oh shit” moment, which may or may never happen.

At this point I’m just documenting how radicalized the people in the Dropout TV Discord are and how many of them believe in antisemitic conspiracies and downright falsities. Maybe they’ll do something about it one day, but I doubt it.

[lamnwar]

Love to See You Squirm // Kise Ryōta x Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+ knb kinktober entry!

A/N: first kinktober entry ever ahhh!! <333 Context: Learning that you like to be tied up might have been the best thing that ever happened to you. Warnings: Hard dom!Kise x Rope bunny! reader, bonding, pussy eating, fingering, nipple play, reader has a praise kink, use of "slut" and "whore" (affectionately)

You are, without any reasonable doubt, the most precious thing on Earth. Ryōta would die on that hill – everything from the soft purr of his name coming out of your plump lips to the plush of your body drives him crazy. How can he not be a mad man when you exist? A beautiful doll in the hold of his slender fingers, so obediently nodding at his every word, his favourite toy, undoubtedly.

He could shiver at the sight of the golden rope digging in your flesh, holding your legs spread for him, the sweet whimpering sounds coming out of your lips drawing a soft chuckle out of him.

“Doll, use your words. You know I love that pretty voice of yours.” He smiles with so much kindness, almost as if he’s not the one who’s tied you like that, a smile of pure pleasure plastered on his lips at the sight of his work of art.

“Touch me, Ryo!” you whine desperately.

It’s almost painful to sit there, splayed open, your leaking cunt on display for his golden eyes and begging for attention in a complete state of depravity. And you want to reach for him, pull him on top of you just for the solace of feeling his skin against yours – but you can’t. And you’re to blame, entirely.

It was on a random night with your boyfriend that you came to learn of something that you didn’t know about yourself. It started fairly innocent; when he had your hands tied in your back with his expensive tie – the silk soft against your skin at first till he tugged on it harder to bound you. You were immobilized, squirming under his grip while he had his way, sweet coos in your ear. “Ah, ah... be good and take it.” “Here you go, such an obedient slut...” And boy, you never came so hard in your life. It was then that it became evident that you liked to be tied up and when that knowledge came upon Ryōta’s mind, it wasn’t long till he learned how to bond you.

He’s always been a fast learner, anyway. It’s not much of a surprise that he knows how to tie you in the best quality rope, cutting the circulation where it should, splaying you wide open for his own enjoyment, restraining your moves so you squirm desperately under his ministration.

“Shit babe, look at you...” his voice is soft against your skin, a teasing finger tracing your quivering lips. “You’re really losing your mind here, aren’t you?”

He chuckles, fingers trailing down your throat, your clavicles, and finding the rope tied between your breasts – pushing them out, making them awfully sensitive. Your skin is on fire, even more when he reaches your hardened nipples. What a curious thing, he ponders, flicking over your swollen buds as if your body is an experiment and he is the scientist. He touches, teases and observes.

Ah, what a sweet sound you make when he pinches your nipple. It’s even cute, the way you squirm, but fail to move as you truly wish. It’s more like a failed attempt at pushing your chest into his malicious hands, than anything else.

Pathetic, that you are at every tug on your sensitive buds, the high-pitched expression of your desperation being the kind of entertainment he can’t get enough of.

And the minute his hand reaches lower, closer to your aching cunt, all you can do is beg.

“Ryō, please! Need to feel you...”

“Yeah? My pussy has been quite neglected, hasn’t it?” he coos, giving you a mere surface touch. But it is well enough for him to understand the extent of your need.

He’s surprised himself at the sight of his slick-covered digits – he’s barely touched you, and you’re already dripping. That fact itself makes him elated, coming to kiss you urgently. You’re surprised – it’s not like him to indulge in a kiss like that. But you aren’t one to complain, not when you can finally feel him. His soft tongue against yours, ecstasy peppered on your taste buds. You whine – you can’t touch him, but you want to. You want to run your fingers in his soft blond locks, pulling him closer so he can engulf you entirely. You can cry when he pulls away, the lost of contact making your soul ache. He’s right here, yet you miss him so much.

“Shit... look how easily I can slide in!” he laughs, happy at how you take his finger so suddenly.

He’s not one to give you a warning, anyways. You don’t know whether to cry from how good it feels to finally feel him in your cunt, or from that unsufferable need for more. More, more, more!

You feel insane, like a beast in heat. All you can do is twist and writhe, your hands tied in your back holding the sheets for dear life as he continues to push his fingers in and out of your sweet cave.

“You were made to take my fingers, aren’t you?”

You nod, unable to deny what is certainly a truth. The way your walls cling to his digits, inviting them in so warmly is a testament of his words.

“Such a good slut f’me...” He mutters, leaving a kiss on your thigh, right next to where the rope digs in your flesh. You buck your hips forward, a silent demand for his mouth on you.

His golden eyes glimmer between your legs, almost as if he’s read your mind. Maybe he did, what would you know? At this point, you don’t care much about things that made sense. That unquenchable thirst for Ryōta is in itself proof of your insanity. Can one be so much in need for a man? And he reads right through you. Something about the sight of you like that – that thin layer of sweat on your skin from all your squirming, the scent of your drench pussy so close to his face, the red tint in your skin contrasting with the gold of the rope. Your eyes are pleading, but you know he won’t indulge you unless you speak up. But it’s hard! Oh, so hard to utter any word in the state you’re in.

“Ask for it” you hear his voice from above you, the loss of his touch making you feel empty.

He’s so pretty, hovering your body like that; yet, so intimidating you can’t help to surrender. You are so defenceless, anyway. All of your thoughts busy with him – his fingers, his lips, his tongue. Oh, do you crave him, so bad.

“Can you eat me up, please?” you ask in a meek voice.

It’s cute, frankly. He softly laughs, a gentle hand cradling your face like he’s handling crystal. Your doe eyes scan his face in search of his intention, praying with all your soul that he’ll fold.

“Ah, pretty... you’re so good, aren’t you?” He sighs, settling back between your legs. He hums, the sweet perfume of your nectar sending him on a cloud. “All polite and cute. Look at this, how can I not feast on that pussy, hm?”

His words are punctuated to a teasing flick of his tongue on your swollen clitoris, the simple action making you shiver. You’re so sensitive that you could cry, and nothing could make the handsome blond happier. And when he finally gives your leaking folds a languid lick, you could pass out on the spot. The song of your moans vibrates in your bedroom while your boyfriend makes out with your cunt. His tongue moves graciously, dancing on the sensitive surface of your core – a sharp contrast with the not-so-gracious way you squirm at his actions. He chuckles, soothing voice resonating against your seeping hole.

“Shh... be good. You want me to continue, right? Can’t keep me away from that sweet pussy...”

He hums, your delectable nectar dripping on his tongue. He can do this all the day, frankly. Hell, if you weren’t restrained, you might have found yourself having to physically pull him away from his well-earned place between your thighs. But you can’t; all you can do is let out lewd sounds – proof of your pleasure.

“Taste so fucking good... shit.”

He sighs dramatically, the shadow of a groan hiding at the back of his throat. Eating you out like that, seeing you wide open for him, the sight of your gorgeous cunt... all of it making him painfully hard. He curses himself when he realises that he’s been unconsciously grinding against the bed sheets, not wanting to let you know that despite his seemingly calm, he is probably just as desperate as you. The need to fill your pussy with his hard cock intoxicates him, and he channels his frustrations with all the flicks and licks of his wet tongue against your heat.

You shudder, your orgasm pending. It builds in the depth of your stomach, muscles of your pelvis contracting while you cry for some release. It doesn’t help when he dips his tongue in your hole, walls clenching around the wet muscles like they were trying to keep it captive.

“Gonna come, hm? That’s a good whore, make a mess on my face.”

You barely get to process his crude paroles that you find yourself under the assault of your orgasm. You move, shake desperately, in a pathetic attempt to control your bonded body. Your moans become whines, and whines become cries when you finally snap.

“Ryōta!” you cry, unable to even recognise your own voice at the moment.

Your juices coating the rope that wraps in your inner thighs, and your tears of pleasure mixing with your sweat – fuck, how he wishes to eat you whole, let the salt on your skin linger on his tongue eternally. He holds your thighs, restraining you squirms as you navigate through your high, covering his face in your honey. He laps at all that you give him – a blessing really, if you ask him.

“You did so good, so good...” he whispers in your ear, peppering your neck with soft kisses.

He’s so delicate, so loving, and you just can’t understand why. And yet, he doesn’t question a thing.

Without any reasonable doubt, Ryōta Kise believes that you are the most precious thing to ever exist.

[fortunatelyannoyingcrown]

Rant incoming(won't be very pretty)

The most disgusting thing about Rhysand Stans is that their hate for Tamlin is so excessive, they want to pair him with a POS pedophile Amarantha, and come up with the most insane theories about why they are mates?The new Reddit post, talking yet again, about Tamlin and Amarantha being mates is just another example of how much hate can make you say the most asinine things without any single sensible thought put into it.

To all Rice plant stans currently obsessing over the theory of the male you hate being with a predator, let me tell y'all something.Y'alls jealousy, that Tamlin was pursued and wanted way more that Rice plant, by other people, is just too obvious and is too hilarious.Maybe, if Rice plant wasnt such a malicious, narcissistic, gaslighting rapist/physical abuser, then he would have a chance....nah, he's still a shortie, shorter than Tamlin, so besides Feyrat, no one would give a shit about him,🤣🤣🤣🤣 Tamlin was pursued by noble women, well before Acotar and even your fave's mate was willing to freaking die for him.Tamlin's the man, get the bloody fuck over it.Your fave ratman would never,ever compare.

Now, onto some actual facts so that y'all's pea brains hopefully understand(I don't have much hopes, but I will still put it out there)

For the mate theory to work, both Fae should be obsessed with each other.Here's the catch: Tamlin hated Amarantha because she ruined his life, and pursued him since she was a child.That does not scream mate energy in any way.He had no problem killing her too, and that is impossible if you are mates with someone.Also, if Amarantha knew anything about it, she would have held this over her head and everyone else's surely, and that's not something that happens.Your "theory" therefore makes zero sense and it is STUPID AF, and just another excuse for y'all to shit on him and make him miserable👍.I see through y'all's BS

So for y'all's wishes that Tamlin is as miserable as possible, I will say this too- I hope Riceplant is revealed as the monstrous villain that he is and that he tricked Feyre.I hope that bitch cries her heart out and stays miserable and y'alls little fantasy bubble that he is the dream boyfriend pops hard🖕🖕🖕I also hope Tamlin makes him suffer and he dies the worst possible death.

I hope and wish for every horrible thing to happen to Riceplant, his bitch of a mate and everyone else in the inner circle.I wait to see their misery with my own eyes, as it happens in the series.They and their Stans can go fuck themselves👍

[nudijsmos]

𝑓𝑤𝑏! bangchan — anything he could do (𝗶 𝗱𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿)

summary: after another fight with your boyfriend hyunjin, your best friend decided to cheer you up by buying some drinks. little did you know that after that you'd forget everything about your relationship and become christopher's little doll.

word count: 5.2 k

note: english is not my first language so expect the nastiest shit on this fic & also this is a collab with my dear @doestalker, i hope y'all enjoy it!.

maybe talking to your best friend about the failed moments of your relationship is not such a bad idea, but you have seen each other in the worst conditions before. nothing bad could happen.

or well, that could be debated.

for months you have been debating or rather questioning your relationship with hyunjin, who happens to be friends with the guy in front of you, bangchan. maybe this is something that all couples go through, maybe this boredom is normal between months of any relationship.

as always after an argument with hyunjin, your fingers typed the number of your best friend, who – having a hunch of what was happening – was quick to answer and invite you to his apartment. your eyes wandered around the blonde’s room, feeling your body tremble as you didn’t know how to start telling him everything that’d happened between you.

“tell me that at least this time he didn’t stood you up on another date, that would be regrettable and too much, even for you,” exclaimed the man, leaning his back against the wall, watching you from head to toe. deep within him he begged that you’d already thrown away that little boy you had as a boyfriend. he groaned when you gave him a knowing look, confirming his assumptions.

it's not that bangchan hated hyunjin, in fact, he was one of his closest friends. it's just that he knew what he was like in relationships, and given that he's had a crush on you since practically the beginning of his friendship with you, it was almost impossible for him not to react in a sarcastic and to some extent malicious way to their relationship.

he felt no modesty within himself, happy to see your relationship crumble upon his eyes. he felt sorry for the way your eyes appreciated hwang, but he longed for the chains of that bond to be broken all at once.

call him selfish, a bad person, a madman, but he wanted you to belong only to him.

“it’s just that i’m so tired, we weren’t like this at the beginning, remember? we were so happy and we were so in love... now i can’t remember a single moment where we’re not arguing.”

bangchan places his arm on the back of the sofa, behind you, putting on his best expression of concern and pretending to empathize by recalling those moments when you were genuinely happy with his friend. he swallowed to disguise the bitterness that went up his throat, and then cleared his throat.

“ah, yes, the good times where you were glued by the hip. but babe, let’s face it, isn’t it too naive of you to think that everything was going to go the way it did when you started dating? relationships change, just like people... sometimes for bad,” he said the last part through gritted teeth, so that you wouldn’t hear it.

you let out a bitter laugh even though you didn’t find any humour on his statement, staring at the floor and running your fingers through your hair as you listened to your best friend's opinion.

“yeah, i know. it’s not the same anymore, it’s just that i can’t help but hold on to the idea that at some point everything will go back to how it used to be,” you turned to look into his eyes, frowning, a glimmer of hope burning inside your chest.

“look, darling, i don’t know what happened between the two of you, but knowing how stupid hyunjin can be, i’m sure it’s nothing new of him to act like that with you.” the man murmured, squatting now, taking your hands out of your own hair and taking them between his. this closeness between you was normal, yet the air felt heavy having him so close to you.

“i have a better idea, there’s a store near here. we have to get drunk and watch a movie, like in the old days,” he added with a smile. “no more hyunjin, now it’s you and me, and i want to please you after he made you feel like you were worth no more than a couple of minutes on a painful date.”

(...)

the streetlights were casting a warm glow on the pavement, the evening between both of you felt like a sweet summer night in the middle of this boring autumn, laughing all the way down to the convenience store. as you entered the establishment, bangchan's hand grazed the small of your back, sending a shiver down your spine. "what are you in the mood for?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "i'm thinking of something strong to cool you off tonight."

you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze lingered on you, and you felt a blush creep up your cheeks. bangchan had always been a flirt, but there was something about the way he was looking at you tonight that made your heart flutter.

"how about some beer and chips?" you suggested, your voice barely above a whisper. bangchan grinned, his dimples on full display.

"excellent choice," he said, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for the fridge door. the casual touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you found yourself leaning in a little closer to him, making him chuckle at the sight of seeing you near him in that way.

as you made your way to the checkout, bangchan kept up a steady stream of playful banter, his eyes never leaving your face. you couldn't help but feel a little giddy, the weight of your earlier argument with your boyfriend momentarily forgotten.

"you know, I'm always here for you," bangchan said softly, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you his change. "anytime you need a friend, or a shoulder to lean on, i'm just a phone call away."

you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and a hint of something more. "thank you, chris," you murmured. "i don't know what i'd do without you."

bangchan's smile widened, and he gently squeezed your hand. "that's what friends are for," he said, his voice low and warm as he grabbed you by your waist, letting him try to get a little closer to you while he was talking, almost like a whisper hitting your ear. as you walked back to his apartment, you couldn't help but feel a little lighter, your heart filled with the knowledge that you had someone like bangchan in your life.

when both of you were already in the blonde’s kitchen, you two proceeded to pour the beer on your respective pints, the closeness seemed to be palpable in the air, almost completely forgetting why you came to your best friend’s house. the argument with hyunjin was no longer the only thing on your mind, and bangchan noticed it. you drank there in his kitchen, the both of you leaning against the kitchen aisle while sipping the beer and eating the chips.

the alcohol took control of your body very quickly with every drop that slipped down your throat, that feeling of sadness for the previous situation was already one of the last things that went through your mind. whereas from the blonde’s point of view he was just dying internally to find the right moment to get to touch you again, sink into your sweet aroma.

“you know.” you muttered in a drunken tone, tripping over your own words. “i don’t even know why i’m suffering for him, he didn’t even know how to satisfy me...” your mind was no longer filtering out the words coming out of your mouth, if you weren’t so drunk you’d be dying of shame for your boldness and the excess of information you were releasing.

“is that so?” asked bangchan, his tone almost mocking. the edges of his lips rising and his expression was of satisfaction at hearing the first criticism of hyunjin coming from you, almost relieved that there weren’t only positive or melancholic opinions of his friend. “in what sense?” he feigned a tone of confusion, doing his best to look innocent. it was clear that he knew what you were talking about, he felt like he wanted to jump over the walls. finally! something hyunjin wasn’t good at.

“you know...” you mumble, feeling blood pooling on your cheeks, unable to find the right words so as not to sound desperate.

“no, doll, i don’t know,” he laughed, squinting his eyes and wrinkling his nose because of the flustered expression you had. he rolled his lips and looked at you from top to bottom, stepped forward and took your chin between his fingers, forcing eye contact with his dark orbs. “use your words, babbling will not make me understand you.”

the elder’s voice echoed through your ears, penetrating your brain and making that blush that was already resting on your cheeks more and more noticeable. the kitchen air began to overwhelm you, your breath was cut short by the soft grip of your chin.

“in the two years of my relationship with him i could never..” you were afraid to continue the sentence, but your friend’s orbs penetrated your soul like a sword and you felt like it was now or never, so you sighed. “he never made me finish, i faked my orgasms for months to not hurt his ego.”

bangchan was surprised by that answer. he thought you were talking about his friend’s tiny dick, not that the idiot hadn't been able to give you an orgasm in general.

a mischievous laugh breaks out from his lips, those you glance from time to time without modesty or shame, those pouty lips who surely tasted of beer and salt.

“that’s awful, i would be sorry if my own girlfriend said that about me,” he replied in a mocking tone, letting go of your chin and heading to the kitchen table, resting his forearms against the edge of the furniture as he adjusted his posture without taking his eyes off you, which he knew made you nervous.

“does the great christopher bang know more about pleasure?” you asked jokingly, pretending not to be affected by the way his arms flexed in front of you, you didn’t know where this courage came from.

that’s a lie, you did know.

“oh doll, i don’t think you want to go there,” he murmured, his tone of voice deep and almost stifling. he had his gaze fixed on you, his eyes had a subtle gleam that you couldn’t tell if it was alcohol or mockery from seeing how nervous you were. the boy couldn’t help but enjoy the effect he was having on you.

this time it was you who stepped forward, staying a short distance from the boy, your eyes denoted an innocent glow, like a puppy begging for the attention of its owner and that made the older one salivate. you looked so immersed in that game of not-so-subtle glances, so vulgar that without saying anything they confessed everything.

“give me a reason to listen to you, christopher.” you mused with a mocking smile, defying almost the highest.

oh.

oh. that’s what he’s wanted to hear since you set foot in his house. bangchan can’t help but smile at your defiant expression, leaning closer to you, his face just inches from yours.

“a reason?” he asks mockingly. his eyes run through your body, analyzing every curve in detail. he was enjoying too much of this little game you were having, but the palpable tension you had been building up for quite some time was making him a little desperate. “how about this – i guarantee you i can give you more pleasure in five minutes than hyunjin in a year of dating.” his beer-breath invaded your nostrils, something you normally hated when hyunjin drank with his friends now became incredibly attractive coming from your friend. you were ashamed to admit that his words had caused your panties to dampen. “let me show you, doll.”

you just nod and flutter your lips open, the overwhelming heat you felt right now had made you a little dizzy, your eyes traveled to bangchan’s smile, still present and still mocking, almost evil. “okay, prove it,” you whispered.

bangchan's eyes widened, excited. “with pleasure,” he replies, leaning close to your ear, his rawest voice. “only i have one condition.”

when he leaned back enough for you to see him in the eyes, you frowned, confused. “and what would that condition be?”

bangchan flashed you a smile, like a mischievous cat who just cornered his prey. “you will do everything i say. no buts, no protests. you think you can handle that, princess?”

to say that you were stunned would be an understatement. that touch of dominance that unleashed in the elder’s personality was stronger than any drink you had consumed that same night, again you just nodded without even being able to form a coherent response as your friend’s veiny hand caught your neck and guided you towards his lips, devouring you without any warning.

the taste of beer clouded your mind at every movement of his mouth, feeling your legs falter as you let that man handle your body as if you were just a doll.

it was no longer just his mouth tasting yours, your lips parting in a gasp allows the damp tongue of the taller man to enter your mouth like an intruder to those lips that once belonged to his best friend.

the hand placed on your neck generated a certain pressure that made it difficult to keep pace with that kiss, the so sure grip of those long digits made you see stars. what would it be like to have him fuck you like an animal?

bangchan was in control, and he was enjoying every second of it. he devoured your lips like a starved man, his tongue possesively exploring every inch of your warm mouth. every movement, every breath, every sound you made served only to feed his own desire. as he continued to kiss you, he pushed and turned around your body until you were trapped between the table and his hard torso, his grip on your neck tightening, while his free hand began to venture across your body, groping you lasciviously. he growled like an animal at the little groan that let go of your throat as his hand kneaded one of your breasts.

“do you like that, babe?” he asked, his voice so deep it sounded guttural, his fingers still kneading and playing with your chest, causing more soft groans to escape from your lips. he could feel the way you melted under his touch, and that only made him more desperate to ruin you. his index finger hooked the neckline of your top, lowering it along with the cups of your bra, leaving your chest exposed.

the coldness of the room and the warmth of your body left little to the imagination of the hungry young man, your gasps and the erectness of your nipples no doubt caused christopher to lose what little sanity he had in him. well, if there was any of that left.

the large arms of the opposite managed to raise your body weight so that now your figure will be prostrated on the table. in an attempt to seem more provocative you were slowly opening your legs, almost torturing the blonde who was just letting out curses at such a sight. “use me, christopher.” you muttered in your broken voice, getting rid of any possible regrets in your head.

“use me, break me. i don’t want you to leave any trace of hyunjin inside me.”

a grunt was the answer you received and suddenly the man’s lips surrounded your nipples, biting, licking and pulling them until they turned a pinkish hue, so sensitive to the simple rubbing of the older man’s dry and uneducated boneless bone. your underwear began to feel more and more annoying. the tenacity of the movements of his tongue made your sight go blank, babbling over and over again the name of your best friend.

“poor little girl, you see, that son of a bitch never knew how to take advantage of you.” take advantage? oh no.. more than that, your boyfriend had no idea how to handle your body. the boy's hands gripped your breasts in such a way that they formed a heart, releasing them only to slap them shamelessly. you whined.

“now you’re mine, you have no idea how good i’m going to abuse your pussy, my little doll.”

“please, chris,” you moaned, squeezing his biceps hard, almost nailing his fingernails in despair. “i’m- please-”

he exhaled a laugh at the mess of groans and whines that you were under his touch, and he hadn't even touched your pussy yet. “who would have said that behind that innocent facade you were such a spoiled brat? i’m not surprised that hyunjin couldn’t handle you, it takes a man to handle little sluts like you,” he spat against your cheek, lowering his hand down your skirt, there he slipped his hand between your underwear already ruined by your juices. “damn, you feel how wet you are for me?” he laughed excitedly, as if he were a child who just got a new toy for christmas.

“poor princess, so long without being satisfied as she deserves,” his lips formed a little pout, while his fingers ran through your lips, smearing them with your juices before carefully inserting one, he didn’t want to break you... yet. “i’m going to make all that time worth it,” he promised, leaving you with a chaste kiss on the cheek while inserting another finger without warning.

you let out a guttural groan, opening your eyes wide open as you felt the sweet burn of his fingers stretching your tight walls, you had to bite your lower lip so as not to lose your composure and crumble between his strong arms. you tilted your head so you could see him in the eyes, your brow frowning with pleasure at the scissor movements he made to speed up your preparation. he looked at you with a mocking smile and an arched eyebrow, feigning confusion at your reactions, as if he wasn’t caressing your g-spot with his long fingers.

“what’s wrong, princess?” he asked. he wouldn’t let you answer because the next thing he did was lean against the table, lowering his arm around your waist so he could play with your clit while inserting a third finger. you already felt your legs tremble, you didn’t think you could hold up much longer like that, it was hard to believe that you already felt the knot of your first orgasm forming so quickly.

“look at you, i’m feeling so sorry for how pathetic you look right now. " he murmured once more to your ear, another chill running down your spine was present by the dominant tone that crashed against your skin," he said. “your pussy is made just for me... just look at how it takes my fingers.”

christopher’s voice echoed throughout the room, the constant splashes of the blond’s phalanx penetrating into your poor, abused walls was the ecstasy you had longed to have for months. his middle finger bent inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours that could make you see stars and collapse in front of him.

“ah! chris!” you squealed, holding tightly the wrist of his hand inside you.

“what’s the matter, doll? are you gonna cum? already?” he laughed mischievously, mocking your precocity and despair. “go ahead, baby, cum f’me.”

you sucked air through your nose as the spasms began to hit your body like waves, little tears fell down your pink cheeks. there was no longer a drop of guilt inside you, you just felt relief to achieve an orgasm that was not on your own in a long time.

bangchan let out an excited laugh, his eyes wrinkled to the sides at the sight of his hand soaked in your juices. he brought his hand to his mouth, licking his fingers as he stared at you, you watched his eyes roll back and heard him groan as he tasted you.

“c’mon, babe, let’s take this to my bedroom. i’m gonna make you cum three times today, the first one was with my fingers. then, i’m gonna use my tongue and my cock to make you squirt as many times as i want.”

(...)

“open your legs for me, baby, if you close them I’m not gonna finish anything.” he said, smirking at the obscene sight he had of you. the dim light reflecting on your skin left him desiring more of you, he needed you, he craved you like a predator about to devour his innocent prey. his hands were roaming your skin, slowly almost like he tried to torture you.

his shirt was stripped off somewhere in the room allowing your imagination to fly before the perfect landscape of your best friend's strong body. well, better said your lover.

his body weight leaned over you, his gaze nailed to your teary orbs, lowering his right palm to your weeping cunt, letting his fingers make their way to your clit once again. a loud slap made a presence on his mannerism, his hand pressing again and again on your pussy.

“oh god, christopher-” you said.

“i know, doll. use your words for me. tell me how good does that feels.” he responded, biting his lower lip and leaning closer to you, his body slowly lowered to its knees, letting out several sighs that crashed against the folds of your cunt. a path of wet and lewd kisses went through one of your thighs, receiving bites that would surely leave some mark on your skin.

god, he was gonna kill you.

you were going to protest because of how little contact the opposite was having with you, yet you felt the wet, hot mouth of the blonde hugging and sucking your clit, placing both hands on the sides of your waist to hold you in place. his lips rubbed your folds in the company of that wet muscle making you to see the stars in the front row, his tongue laps on your cunt like a fucking desperate dog.

he was eating you out, feeling so drunk by your taste. he did not waste any time, spitting on your clit before wrapping his lips around it once again, tongue immediately caressing your sensitive bud. he couldn’t decide between roughly sucking on the poor thing or moving his tongue side to side.

the squirting of the older man's mouth against your pussy was so disgusting and obscene, you knew perfectly well that your juices would be overflowing under his chin. “s’good right ?.” chris slurred into your pussy, now sloppily kissing his way down to your dripping hole.

his hands were so tight on your thighs that you felt helpless and useless, without any method of escape from it, merely grasping the boy’s sheets with your fists as you undid your broken voice repeating his name in whining cries of pleasure.

his big nose slammed against your clit, giving you another annoying and torturing wave of pleasure that swept all over your lower abdomen. you were again beginning to feel that tingling in your lower abdomen, releasing the sheets to grasp without any shame the blonde’s hair, tangling your fingers between the curls of his hair, pulling these with little force but being enough for the young man to devour your core as if it were an animal, a depraved who just wanted to get drunk with the sour taste of your fluids.

"damn doll, you taste divine." the man whispers in between his moist kisses, spitting once more on the fluelle of your intimacy. " cum for me, little one." without warning his tongue made its way into your entrance, slamming against your walls.

"oh god, oh god. you fucking- ngh!." you cried, feeling how your legs lost their footing against the elder’s bed once more. chris moaned just as loud when he felt your cum began to coat his tongue in little waves.

“what a good little slut you are, so fucking good.” this time the boy took his time to clean with his tongue the remains that you had along your thighs, licking and sucking every place. however, something caught both of you by surprise.

it was your phone ringing, right on the floor where you tossed it before bangchan pushed you onto his bed. you both glanced at it, and a cold sweat ran through your body when you saw hyunjin calling you.

“answer him.” said bangchan without further ado.

your eyes went wide open again by the boy’s comment. what? no, you shouldn’t answer it. he shouldn’t know what was going on between you and his best friend. "do i have to repeat myself again, whore? answer the fucking phone."

you were fucked up, so fucked up.

"hello.." was heard on the other side of the line. it was his voice, smooth as always. " i didn’t know if you were gonna answer me or not, but i wanted to talk to you. i’m sorry, okay? i really didn’t want you to be mad because i didn’t go on our date.." he continued, yet you could not concentrate because you were having your friend’s cock rubbing and teasing against your hole so sharply that it was impossible for you to formulate a coherent answer.

"don’t worry h-hyunjin, i just... oh god." you released a gasp that saturated the mic of your phone, tilting your neck to the side while your teeth caught your lower lip in an attempt to silence your groans.

"is everything alright? you sound agitated, love."

that was the point of decline for the blonde, entering you without any warning, making you lose your sanity and shame left in your system. he quickly took the phone from your hand, placing it between his ear and shoulder.

“sorry mate, she’s busy right now.” he chuckled at himself, pulling you by your waist once again, feeling him more deeper than before. he was big, you felt instantly full by his size. “you should’ve treated her better bro, you ‘ave no idea how pretty she looks taking my dick right now.”

“what the fuck, bangchan!?”. hyunjin spits. “pass her the phone bro, i don’t have time for your jokes.” your groans came to light when christopher began to thrust into you, brutally abusing your cunt without even caring if your boyfriend was from the opposite side of the line.

the wet slaps, the moans and the sighs saturating the mic proved that it was no joke. he fucked into you roughly and you would describe his expression as gleeful, because when hyunjin started to yell at him he just giggled.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” yelled hyunjin, so loud you could hear it from your position. “please tell me you’re joking, you sick fuck.”

your bestfriend pulled out and you whined from the emptiness, he just slapped your thigh, commanding you to turn around on all fours.

“oh, does this look like a joke to you?” questioned christopher, putting the phone on video call and turning the camera around to focus it on your plump cheeks slapping against his muscular thighs, he could see through the phone how his cock disappeared into your sopping cunt. god, he almost wished he was recording you instead of letting hyunjin see that ass getting pounded.

“CHRISTOPHER ARE YOU SERIOUS!? HOW COULD YOU!?” hyunjin was so angry that if chris looked closely he could see the smoke coming out of his ears. he just laughed, spanking your ass at the same time.

“you snooze, you loose, bro,” giggled bangchan.

hwang began cursing the both of you, calling you names, wishing the worst to bangchan, you weren’t able to see his expression - oh, how you wish you could - but he sounded at the verge of a mental breakdown. and, you know? you didn’t care. his loss. you were getting the fucking of your life by such the sexiest man you could think of.

your phone dropped, both of his hands were groping the sides of your waist again while his massive cock was pounding your guts, making your eyes roll back by the feeling of him using you just like a ragdoll. “that’s it baby, milk my fucking cock so well— feels so good, doesn’t it?”

you felt unable to formulate any kind of response as you felt his member coming in and out of you, almost ripping your cunt apart. your whines and gasps were like music for the elder, the way your pussy was taking his dick was driving him crazy. he noticed how the phone’s screen went black, clearly hyunjin had ended the call. what a fucking loser, he thought to himself as he watched how your hole was clenching around the base of his cock.

“does this cock make you go dumb, doll?.” he presses down with one of his hands the bulge his cock makes in your belly, causing the both of you to keen, your little dripping pussy fluttering around his cock as he twitches inside of you.

“c-christopher, i’m.. oh god!” you moaned so loudly, almost screaming his name as the third orgasm was approaching. “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“aww, my baby’s gettin’ tired?” he mocks you, smirking at you, still guiding your movements on his cock with the help of his hands on your hips. “thought you liked fuckin’ yourself on your best friend’s cock. you’re a spoiled little slut, aren’t you?” you nodded not being able to answer him again, feeling the tears running down from your cheeks while trying to face him while he railed you, biting your lower lip.

“please chris, i wanna come sooo badly. please, please, pretty please, i cannot handle it any more.” your voice sounded so submissive, begging him to release you. your cunt was swollen at this point and your legs were unable to pick up his pace. your eyes went white when he suddenly grabbed your hair, pulling it back and facing one side of your face as he leaned near your ear.

the man’s pelvis rocked against your ass roughly to make your arch your back searching for more contact, more pleasure, more of chris’ insane sex appeal.

“is that so baby? you want me to fill you up? breed you full?”. you shut your eyes as you allowed your orgasm to come, giving in the white heat just by hearing him slut the shit out of you, squirting over his cock while pounding your insides, slapping your ass with his bare hand. “there you go, my little cocksleeve.”

his cum flooded your walls, drawing you back to his pelvis while his lips released the most sensual sighs and grunts you've ever heard in your life. when he pulled his dick out of your sloppy and wet cunt, his cum was dripping out of your hole, long rows of his essence falling down your folds as you tried to regain consciousness after that man fucked you silly.

“pretty little pussy, all fuckin’ mine, yeah? my fuckhole.” he growled, voice raw from all that moaning, while picking up some cum from your folds with a finger and fingering you with it, you whined, sensitive and overstimulated. he was right, you were his, his girl, his doll, his slut. you no longer belonged to the black-haired young man you used to call ‘your boyfriend’. now you were his, you were christopher bang's doll.

you’ve always been, you just didn’t realize it yet.

[da-man-si]

Some thoughts about episode 28 of Blossom:

The emperor ain't shit. Song Han broke the Mu guy's foot during the examination and possibly crippled him for life and he clearly did it intentionally. He had already won when he got the Mu guy immobile with no way out so there was no reason to break his foot. I get that this is what Dou Shishu wanted so Song Han just did the thing he was told to do but right in front of the emperor during an examination? And the emperor is like "wow this guy fights good" like dude you are not some random martial art fanatic who is oblivious to everything else, you are the emperor so I cannot help but give you the stink eye when you don't see how malicious Song Han's behaviour was the whole time.

This is about the emperor as well. He knows Song Mo is sick and in pain. Song Han asks for a duel with Song Mo and the emperor allows it. Fine. But when the duel ends with a draw, he says, "To turn the tide against Yantang is rare indeed" bitch Yantang is sick. In anime language, Yantang is using only 60% of his power. And you know it!

Again, about the emperor. How dare he be so mean with Gu Yu.

I did not expect Miao Ansu to be this foolish. Song Han went all "woe is me" on her and she looked at him and said "Yup. I like that. He's the one I want." What exactly was on those handkerchiefs that Song Han gave her for wiping her sweat that she wiped away her smartness with those as well.

Lastly, Song Mo's little speech during the wedding!!! "I thought I would never know warmth. Fortunately, someone came into my life. Now, I treasure the value of a good marriage and a good partner more than anyone." like what if started crying. Song Mo and Dou Zhao are so precious. Then Song Mo says to Song Han that he wishes the same for him and if Song Han hadn't maimed his own heart and eyesight with all his hatred and greed then he would've been able to see that Song Mo meant every word and truly wished the same happiness for him.

[princessbrunette]

stepbro john b seeing jj flirt or topper flirt with you.

love your page <33333

    🦴  ꒱   .  ྀི    

thinking about this in the context of when you first became aware of each others existence.

john b took you to a boneyard party, made you promise to behave yourself— and lost you within the space of an hour. you could handle yourself, he kept telling himself — but regret for his own carelessness fills his body when he spots you across the way laughing with none other than topper.

the brunette kicks up sand as he wanders over, staring you down. “aaand that is your brother—” topper points out, clearly in the middle of some elaborate story or joke that was making you giggle.

“step-brother— look what are you doin’ here top?” john b places his hands on his hips like a dad, a stance that made you giggle and bite your finger feeling like you’re in trouble.

“woah, we’re just having some fun here, right?” topper keeps that same boy-next-door smile that had you totally fooled as he places an arm round your shoulder and it’s like john b’s eyes physically darken before you as he squares up, looking down his nose at the fake blonde.

“take your hands off her… okay?” he rasps, voice low and deep making something stir in your panties though it shouldn’t have.

“whatever bro.” toppers smile melts into a malicious smirk before he turns to you. “was nice to meet you gorgeous. enjoy the rest of the party with the fun police—”

“walk away.” your step brothers holds himself back, watching topper shake his head and return to his friends before turning to you, crossing his arms. “are you insane? hm?” he tilts his head expectedly.

“what? m’socialising.” you pout, stepping up into his space like you couldn’t help but be close to him, the alcohol not helping your case here.

“well, can you socialise with the pogues instead of — i dunno — my sworn enemy? topper lives for shit like that, okay— you’re just giving him leverage on me.” he stresses, brow creased up at the thought.

“please, he’s got nothing on you. you’re john b.” you bat your lashes up at him, watching his expression melt into something else.

“uh, what does that mean?” he pushes, though he feels he shouldn’t.

“you’re more brave… you’re cooler… way hotter…” your eyes drag downwards. “probably way bigger.” you add breathily making him swallow.

“wow, wildly inappropriate.” he brushes it off, ticking his head lightly to the side making you giggle.

“whatever. we’re not blood related.” you shrug with a giggle, going to walk away but he pulls you back.

“uh, hey — do you mean that? or… are you just completely wasted?” his eyes linger, an obvious glimmer of hope passing through the chocolate hue of them.

“i’ve had two drinks only.” you hold up your red solo cup before stepping past him. “c’mon. wanna party!” you beam and he blows out a puff of air, following close behind.

“aaalright…”

    🦴  ꒱   .  ྀི    

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Gold Satin Dreamer

Gale × F! Tav (named)

18+ rivalry, rough semi-public sex, dirty talk, possessiveness, aurum hot girl antics

Inviting his radiant wife to give a presentation at Blackstaff, Gale notices the longing gaze of his less than friendly colleague...

Masterlist

-

"Nervous, Dekarios?"

He leveled his gaze at his colleague. Organizing the papers on his desk for a countless time.

"If your 'betrothed' is as brilliant you've been rattling on about, I'd be nervous too." The cutting jest in his voice never tired.

The professor of Evocation had been something close to a rival at Blackstaff. The rest of the faculty waned from distracted to lovely. The head of Divination had actually come to know him as a friend, a calm presence that he sought on hectic days.

She popped her head in now. Eyes alight with excitement.

"She's just arrived, Gale."

Shit. He had planned to meet her at the gates.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to meet my wife." His voice clipped and pointed, straightening his robes.

"Oh, I'm not going to miss this. I've been greatly looking forward to meeting your accomplished spouse." He took up pace behind Gale, steps preening in their jaunt.

Gale hid his smile. Oh, he'd see soon enough.

They swept down the tower, Gale electing the long route over teleportation for his own satisfaction.

"Do you think she'd give a demonstration for my class as well?" Laurna whispered, taking up pace on his other side.

"Possibly." Hesitation bit at his words. "I don't want to push her."

"A wilting flower? I expected more from a hero of Baldurs gate."

"Ignore him. I'm sure she'd love to visit at the least."

He rounded the last stairwell, seeing her shape take form in the lobby.

Already, a small crowd had formed. She was still in her winter robes, head covered in a thick hood. But her radiance was hard smothered, and any new guest at the elusive Blackstaff Academy was regarded with great curiosity.

"Welcome, my love." He greeted her breathless, coming up to instinctually twine his hands around her hips, but remembered his setting at the last moment. Opting to take her hands instead.

"Hello, Professor." She smiled up at him, taking the remainder of his breath. "I'm tracking snow onto your pristine floors."

"Oh, pish posh." He scoffed. "Anything you track in is gracing our presence."

Fenrun snorted behind him, and Aurum's eyes flicked to his. The insufferable man fell quiet.

Immediate, he could see understanding glide across her eyes. Putting together faces to the context of his daily regailing when he would return home to her. Regarding the man with indifference.

"Oh, this must be Laurna." She turned to his ally, her hypnotic voice welcoming. Dropping her hood.

Aurum shed her cloak easily, in a lavender robe that swept behind her. Chest wrapped in a thick black band underneath.

Her golden hair unfolded behind her in a burning curtain. Just cresting above the base of her spine. Her slanted eyes lifted to stare pale otherworldly beauty into them.

He heard Fenrun take in a slow breath behind him, and felt a swelling of malicious pride in his chest.

Uncovered, she had cast the most powerful spell. And she knew it.

"Is there somewhere I could put this?" She offered sweetly, folding her cloak over her arm.

An attendant rushed forward.

"Of course, I'll keep this safe."

She smiled softly at him, handing it off graciously.

"Thank you, you're too kind." Her eyes poured serenity into the boy. He froze, the cloak nearly forgotten in his hands.

Gale smiled at him. Recognizing the same starstruck glitter in his eyes he had on that beach so long ago.

"Shall we?" She sighed, finding his eyes again. Smile twitching up in that mischievous tick that he adored.

"Oh, lets." He laughed.

She took his hand and swept forward.

Laurna chatted with her brightly as they walked. Heads turning and bodies pausing in a wave as she glided along. Her focus on her conversation and the pull of his hand.

Her power of awe never stopped thrilling his heart, but here it felt three times more potent. Swelling his chest. Peacock in his stride.

Fenrun followed behind, tail between his legs. His wounded pride not enough to disengage him from her presence.

He pointed out interesting landmarks as they passed. Speaking low in her ear. She would pause at these sights, tilting her head in interest.

At a statue of a drider, she drew forward. Softly touching along the marble.

He waited, smiling at her. There was something about touch. She always sought to feel that which caught her interest.

"My love, I'm not sure you're allowed to touch that." He teased.

"I'm being gentle." She stepped back and slid her eyes to him. "It's exquisite, and I like to touch exquisite things."

His heart jumped, knees threatening buckle.

Maybe she was too powerful.

"Where to next?" Her voice casual, sweeping back to his side.

"Ahem, if you're looking for exquisite, might I offer my classroom." Fenrun stepped forward, finally jumbling his bravado back into place.

She tilted her head at him.

"And you are...?"

Gale nearly barked out a laugh, having to smother it in a bite of tongue.

"Fenrun Deomat, Professor of Abjucation. A most esteemed welcome to you, our brilliant guest." He gave a suave bow.

She stepped forward, peering up at him. His breath held, bravado washing away again.

"Charmed. Aurum Dekarios, of Orndeir bloodline."

He stepped back, a spike of awed fear in his eyes.

She knew what that name meant. And she didn't reveal it lightly.

"Of course. A Sunlord... If you'll excuse me." His words came out rushed and breathless. Retreating back towards his classroom.

She watched him go, folding her hands behind her back. Glacial eyes cold in their follow, jaw tilted back.

"He reminds me of Lorroakan." She glanced at Gale. Her eyes returning to soft interest.

"Spot on." He tapped his nose.

She crinkled that genuine crooked smile at him, setting his heart fluttering.

"Your class?" She offered, glancing at the great clock on the wall.

"Ah! Yes!" He started, leading her by the lower back in a brisk walk.

"It was lovely meeting you, Laurna. Thank you for being a kind presence for my husband."

Laurna blushed, doing a little dance on her feet.

"It was heavenly, meeting you. You're... just as he described." Her voice soft in reverence.

Aurum waved as they departed, picking up pace with his fast clip. Long legs giving little effort.

He entered first, the usual rabble of noise picking up.

"Alright, I know you all have been very eager." He started, capturing their attention.

"Our guest speaker is here, now-" He held a stern hand in pause to the several hands that had shot in the air. "She has a very special demonstration for you all. I will remind you of your manners and the decorum befitting students of your caliber. Understood?"

A few heads nodded, eyes darting to the doorway in anticipation.

He sighed in rueful exhaustion, giving his students a loving glare. Eyes catching hers just beyond the doorway, beckoning her in a nod.

She stepped in, moving with all of the grace of a lily floating on a pond. Coming up to softly caress his hand in hers.

"Relax." She hushed, seeing the tension under his shoulders. "I agreed to do this. It's okay."

He released a tense breath through his nose, nodding. Wanting to kiss her, but settling for a squeeze of her hand.

She surveyed the gathered students with the same bright interest they studied her in.

"It's so nice to put faces to names, he speaks about you often." She began, stepping down from the podium.

Gale's breath held as she moved down to stand amongst them. Some rising from their seats, staring up at her with unabashed awe.

"Have you told them what I have planned?" Her eyes cast up to his.

"Oh, they insisted it stay a surprise."

She smiled, turning back to her flock.

"Well, this will seem lewd then." She laughed, bright wind chimes. "So bear with me."

She reached behind her, unclasping the band around her chest. Pulling it through the front of her robe. Taking a deep, satisfied breath. The false sun had been significantly cooled but still left a noticeable glow in her chest.

Several gasps rang out, those who weren't already standing rising to feet. Bodies moving forward, hands unconsciously raised to chests.

"This," She began, beckoning them to draw closer. "Is a fragment of an epic spell. How many spellcasters would you guess that takes?"

His favorite student piped up, a bright young man who reminded of a younger him. On tiptoes trying to see over shoulders.

"Hundreds!"

Her eyes caught his, smiling radiantly. She drew forward, the crowd parting for her. Taking his hand and encouraging him to the front.

"Very good. This spell took 194 spellcasters, all speaking at once."

"Now, I'd like to activate it for you."

Gale stepped forward, concern tight in his gut.

She held her palm up to him, tilting her head down in a bid of trust.

"I recovered this morning in preparation, I'll be okay." Her voice soft in assurance.

He relented, jaw still clenched. Nodding for her to continue.

"This is very dangerous magic, condensed in this way. A spell this large was never meant to be seated in a body, especially long-term." She explained, his students' eyes picking up their own concern.

"Miss?" The bright voice picked up in front of her.

"Yes?" She smiled at him. "What's your question?"

"Can I...?" He held his palm out in question.

Her smile widened, cupping her hand over the back of his.

"Of course. Tactile information is very important to me, too."

His palm settled onto her chest, letting out a little gasp.

"It's really warm!"

"It's a shard of sun." She offered, seeing the other students starting to form a line.

"Ohhh... that must hurt..." He hushed.

"It does. But not terribly."

"I'm sorry."

"You've nothing to be sorry for." She rubbed the back of his hand.

She allowed each student to take a turn, Gale's chest full to bursting with pride watching her. She was a natural with them, spellbinding effortlessly.

"Are we all prepared?" Her eyes moved over them, then up to him.

"Can you get the lights, Professor?" She winked at him.

He blushed, despite himself, and dimmed the room. Curtains magically drawn, lights snuffed out. Her bright chest the only reflection in eyes.

"Now, this spell had a very special component in its casting. You will hear more than just my voice, and it will get a little overwhelming, but do not be alarmed."

She paused, seeking understanding in the nods of heads.

"Okay, here we go."

She started in a hum, closing her eyes slowly.

Gale's eyes caught a figure who had slipped in the back, along side heads peeking in from the hall. A spike of shock when he recognized the shape in the dark.

The shard thrummed out of its stasis, pulsing out through her ribs. Her humming picking up into bright song, soaring up through the air. Light spread out through her shoulders, lifting wisps of her hair. Her voice picked up into a high sustained call, smothered light pushing out into the sunburst. A star of light hovering over her body again.

The voices came in, harmonizing into her sustained note. Following her back down through holy song. Dipping and weaving along her notes. The room filled with angelic reprieve. Climbing higher and higher.

When the church bells rang, she started to wind down. Pressing a palm to the burning light. Letting her voice drift down into a soft wail. A question, a request.

Her accompanying choir hushed with her, relenting to her call. Falling lower and lower, the sunburst retreating back under bone in response.

She closed her eyes again, ducking her head down. Moving through one more soft phrase before falling silent. Taking a steadying breath out through pursed lips as the room slowly went quiet.

He let her another moment of dark, knowing it took much more out of her than she let on. Wanting to go to her, to gather her in his arms. Decorum be damned. Then, finally, rose the lights again slowly.

"When an epic spell of this magnitude is cast," She began again, gently wiping her eyes with the edge of her thumb. "It calls on a terribly great power. It is done with intentions to gain, to control. To become something no sane person seeks."

Her eyes narrowed to deadly serious slits.

"It is a terrible thing to wield that power. It will pull the layers of your mind away. If there was any goodness in you to begin with, it will unravel it. It will unravel you to a singular goal. No matter the cost."

She palmed over her chest, speaking in a hush.

"It will feel worth it. The collateral."

The collective breath in the room was still held. Many heads now gathered, spilling in from the hallway.

"Keep mind of yourself, of your ambition. There are many great minds in this room, and that is a terrible thing to squander to the madness of that pursuit. Power like this is an insatiable, hungry thing. I promise you, it can never be fed enough. And the effort to keep it fed will destroy everything you could ever love."

"And if you still decide it's worth it?" Her voice dropped to a low warning.

"The collateral will find you."

She took one final breath out, then rose her eyes. An apologetic smile creased her face.

"Light is a heavy thing to bear. Forgive my dour presentation."

The air refilled the room, small nervous laughs picking up.

"No, the weight is warranted." The Blackstaff chimed in, drawing forward from her place in the back. "A fine lesson you've given today."

"Dismissed." She commanded easily.

The students filed out around them, tittering and waving goodbye to Aurum.

Only when the room emptied did she pick up again.

"I knew your father. I'm very sorry, Aurum."

"He was... he could have been a great man." Aurum hushed, pulling her wrapping around her chest. Gale took up behind her to attend to the hooks.

"You were a well-kept secret, I'm sorry there wasn't help for you in time. Things could have been quite different if we had gotten to you."

"I think about that often. But I'm not sure if I'd be here, as I am, with him..." Her eyes lifted to Gale's, brimming with love. "If it had gone any other way."

His heart ached, cupping her cheek softly. She leaned into his hand for a moment.

"But thank you, regardless."

Aurum smiled gently as the Blackstaff's hand rose to her chest. Pressing a soft palm.

She shuddered, her eyes squeezing for a moment before pulling away. Heavy with knowledge, giving her a sad smile.

"I must depart, but if you need to take another recovery, feel free to do so in my office. You can reach the Astral Plane there easily."

"Be well, Rosa'sune."

"Thank you. Bwaelan dro, uluvathae."

"Uluvathae, xiloscient."

He caught Fenrun's hungry eyes in the doorway, firmly fixated on her back. Giving Gale a spiteful glare, about to enter the room when the Blackstaff drew forward. Her body caging him out into the hall.

She cast Private Sanctum on the room as she left it, nodding at Gale with a knowing smile.

His ears flushed pink, but gave her a grateful smile regardless.

Aurum approached his desk, hopping up onto it. Tossing her leg over her knee.

"That wasn't too much, right? I didn't want to scare your students." Her voice falling vulnerable.

"That was... the best lesson my class has had in this room. I promise you that."

He came up to her folded legs, hand rising up her knee.

"Well, good then. Your colleagues seem lovely... for the most part."

A heat that had been simmering in his pelvis since that man's envious eyes had settled on her reared into a boil. His hand pushed up to her thigh.

"The way you denounced him. So casually..."

"What was there to appraise?" She smiled, her legs parting. Pulling him between with a loop of finger on the tie of his robes.

"A thoroughly unimpressive man. I've seen many of his ilk, and they have very little to offer."

At the word very, she cupped over his teaching robes. His half hard cock greeting her with a throb.

His hand slammed down on the wood next to her, breathing hard into her exhales.

"Keep talking." He urged. Pulling her robe down over her back. Unhooking the band once again.

"Oh, I'd love to." She purred, lifting her legs to curl around his hips.

"You know, I bet he's thinking about us in this room right now. About your hands on me."

He pulled her robe up over her hips desperately, groaning out when he saw she hadn't worn underclothes.

"Wanting to touch me like this, to see me strewn across your desk. Just outside that spell. Furious with envy."

She draped back, her breasts bouncing with the movement.

Precum pooled dangerously soon in his trousers, biting back in choppy breaths. Not even out of his clothes yet.

"Do you think he's imagining what I taste like? How wet my cunt is?"

She led him by the wrist to the heat between her legs.

He drew his fingers through her slick, leaning forward in a slump of shoulders at its power. Slowly pushing two fingers inside her.

She shuddered, arching back on his desk. Ribs rising into a curl as he pumped into her. Her voice coming out in needy moans.

"He could never be this good. No one could fuck me as good as you."

His eyes squeezed shut, focusing through the overwhelming drive in his pelvis. Nearly cumming in his pants. Realizing with haste that he couldn't bear much longer. Pulling quickly out of his trousers.

He slipped his fingers out and filled her with his cock in a fast thrust. Rocking her back on the desk.

She moaned out, legs curling.

"Please, harder. I want it to hurt. I want him to see me limp out of this room."

He nearly crumpled, his voice coming out in a desperate sound of affirmation. Flipping her onto her belly. Her full ass curling up high into his hands.

He slammed into her, bracing a flat hand on her lower back. Holding her down. The desk rattling hard under her. His body delirious with feral pleasure. The drive of his hips uncontrolled.

She gripped onto the lip of the desk above her, hips still pushing ever harder back into him. A sweet chorus of whimpers leaving her with every drive forward. Cunt starting to clench around him, a tight velvet fist constricting in a blinding suck of his cock.

"Please, please, it's so good." She moaned. "Fill me full of your cum, Professor."

He braced desperately down on her back. Needing her to cum immediately, he pulled her long hair up in a tight fist. Slapping her ass in a crack of his palm. Snapping down again and again until she came, her skin blooming red.

She arched back into him, rising on forearms. Shuddering out a cry of his name, cumming in hard tremors. Pleading cries of pleasure rushing through her throat. Cunt fluttering in rapid fire demands on his cock. Her cum pushing out in waves onto her backside with every thrust. Coating his cock as it drove into her.

She went limp under him as he lost himself. Driving into her in vicious pulses, gripping her hips in white knuckles.

"You're mine. You can only cum on my cock." He growled. Her hips squirming from the overstimulation, nodding under him.

"Yes!" She gasped out.

He fell forward onto forearms, driving as deep as he could go. Possesive wrath taking over his body, his mind.

"Mine." He growled, pushing her shoulders down into the desk. Fully holding her down, his weight and vicious drives of hips commanding her body in place.

"All for you." She gasped, going limp to his force. "To do with as you please."

"That's right." He growled, biting into her shoulders. Marking her so there was no mistake. The print of his teeth bruising into her fruit.

"You are not going to clean up when I finish. You are going to leave this building my cum running down your thighs."

"Yes! Please finish inside me!" She begged.

He gave two more long, indulgent thrusts, then lost himself. Hips driving in bursts as his cum filled her. The wrenching ecstacy driving out of him in waves. The total abandonment of control, his body gone. Her cunt clenching pulling in vicious sucking pulses.

He collapsed against her back, after shocks of shudders pushing through him. Cock throbbing inside her emptied.

"Please tell me you can come home soon." She gasped, boneless against his desk.

He laughed, kissing the bruises forming on her shoulders. "Soon. I have to run through some papers, but I'll be home to you as quickly as my magic can take me."

She let out a little dissatisfied whine, twisting under him to pout up at him.

"Don't you give me that look." He huffed. His resolve suddenly hanging on by a thread. Weak to her wide eyes and plush pursed lips.

"But I missed you all day." She sighed.

His heart spilled out of his chest. Falling over her in a soft puddle.

"No. No!" He held up his finger in a point. "Bad!"

She curled a mischievous smile inside of her pout. Eyes twinkling with salacious glee.

"You're too good at pulling my strings, you menace." He laughed and kissed her tenderly, cupping her face.

"Now go on, before I lose my nerve."

"Hmm, okay!" She chirped, hopping off of his desk. Pulling her robe back over her shoulders.

"Oh, wait!" She turned as if remembering something.

Reaching between her legs under the drape of her robe, she gathered a trail of his cum from above her knee. Popping it into her mouth jovially.

"See you at home!" She lilted, giving a little wave as she turned into the hallway.

He shuddered, leaning on his desk for support. By the Weave, she will be the death of him.

~

[mochidoie]

with you and i - lee haechan

listen to: summer nights by the millennial club and die right here by david hugo genre: fluff, hopelessly in love badboy!haechan wc: 938 warnings: written in lowercase only

a/n: this is for the anon that requested a pt 2 to all i see is you :)

"it's always so nice with you." you peer over at haechan, catching him totally staring at you already. "how do you do that?"

"do what?" he scoots a bit closer to you on the bench. the cotton sky remains above the both of you and in this world, only you and haechan exist.

"make me feel so happy." your pinkies lightly touch, as you lean into him playfully at the serious statement. your smile is so shy that it tugs at haechan's heartstrings.

he knew the exact date to take you on and it wasn't what you two did for it to be perfect. it was how he made you feel so incredibly special to him. he doesn't know why you finally gave him a chance, but he was so thankful.

while you two hung out, he was very conscious of the boundary that being friends set. nonetheless, this date changes how he normally treats you. he could finally show you just how loving he could be. just how much he was in love with you.

under this summer sunset with you, he couldn't believe he found a love he's been dreaming of. around you, he could barely breathe. there weren't many things in the world that makes lee haechan nervous or even the slightest concern.

but you should know, that you're the only one that makes his palms sweat and his heart to race a million beats per second. you're the only person he would drop everything for.

if you wanted him to stop such a dangerous lifestyle, he would. you just had to say it. say that you want him and he'd be at your side in a flash.

"this feeling doesn't have to end." haechan tries to poke the bear, trying to see how much you're willing to give to him. all he wants is to see that bright smile shining on your pretty face. and if he was greedy enough, he wanted to be the reason behind every one of them.

you shoot him a quick look, but a sigh escapes your lips. "i don't know if i could do this to you without feeling like you deserve more than me."

shaking his head, his right hand lands on your knee to soothe any doubt in your mind. "there is nothing else in this world worth more than you. i could die right now and i'd be satisfied that i got to spend a date with you in this lifetime."

"don't be dramatic." you laugh and shit, he can't hold back his own dreamy smile at your contagious charm. the way your head is thrown back and pure happiness under these pink skies.

"i'm not the most into theatrics, you know that." haechan opens his palm up for you to take it. secretly, he is wishing upon every star, blowing out every candle, tossing every penny into fountains that you'd hold his hand.

when you show signs of hesitation, haechan respects it. he wants you to come to him on your own. "i want you, y/n, not in any malicious way. i want you in the way where you'd look at me like i'm the love you've been waiting for."

the silence creeps up on the both of you. haechan's hand still faced palm up on your knee and you're staring up at the summer sky, choosing your next words very carefully.

you love haechan as much as the moon loved their sun, it's a connection that is hard to ignore. you've always been so focused on your career that love was an after thought. however, with the love that haechan makes you feel is whole and free. you didn't have to think about anything, but him.

"you are the love i've dreamt of." and the look in your eyes is more than mesmerizing, the combination of your words and gaze causes him to freeze in his place. "i never told you, but i was falling in love with you."

"was it the near death experience or my totally not trashed apartment?" he doesn't know why he's making these unserious comments right now, maybe the mood was feeling too stuffy and too real. he couldn't believe what you were saying to him.

you don't laugh this time, instead, your fingers intertwine with his as you accept his hold so willingly. your grip is tight and haechan can feel his chest explode with fireworks from this contact.

"it's the way you sacrifice and the deepness of your love." his pupils dilate and his heart thumps against his ribcage so hard that he knows you can hear it. the way you have with words is absolutely poetic and he'll find himself falling in love with you over and over again.

you see him through and through. his vulnerability to you is so raw, so open. it's as if the heat of the summer night fills his lungs and he can breathe so easily around you. just how do you do that?

"y/n, i promise that i'd keep you safe and most importantly, really happy." haechan kisses the back of your hand, sealing the promise with his lips. "we don't have to date if you don't want to, but just let me be there for you."

"hyuck, let me lay with you tonight." your graceful words strike him before he could continue. the breeze in your hair adds to this incredible vision of you, not that you aren't already a beautiful sight on your own.

"as you like." with you and him here together, these are the blissful moments that haechan knows love is real.