#mood; looking for any sweet detail

[yumethefrostypanda]

I think the right shot gives a pretty good idea how big Simon's arms are.

[triglycercule]

hhhhidea...,,,, CUTE idea (kinda?) dust reading to phantom papyrus during night to lull him to sleep,,,, but really its just a way for him to pretend that everythings not really that shit (as if phantom paps isn't just dust's denial incarnate) and to help him NOT wake up because of a nightmare again or something

(and just because i can't resist now im imagining this with mtt. not that dust stopped reading to paps in place of killer and horror (because he wouldnt he simply wouldn't) but now the two join them for storytime. horror knocks out pretty damn fast and eventually dust falls asleep too after he makes sure that paps is satisfied with the amount he read and then killer's just left to sit there. maybe he tries to fall asleep maybe he doesn't,,,, maybe he picks up the book and continues reading but EITHERWAY,,,,,, this scene in my head so 💥💥💥😇😇😇)

[honeyhotteoks]

an innocent man doesn't stand a chance (j.yh)

summary: it's halloween and your boyfriend has a fantasy. he wants to be the masked killer and for you to be the final girl, and he wants you to run.

note: this was written in a feverish haze of ghostface yunho brainrot, you can thank this fanart and this edit for making this one about yunho, but i have to give all credit for the idea to the nsfw audio creator augustinthewinter who's masked hookup audio killed me. also please read the warnings, this one is potentially very triggering.

warnings: ghostface!yunho x final girl!reader, boyfriend!yunho, hard dom!yunho, girlfriend!reader, sub!reader, sadism, masochism, knife play, primal play/chasing, threats of violence, heavy cnc that really looks like noncon because part of the play is that he wants her to struggle and say no BUT there are consent checks explicit throughout, rough sex, fingering, gloves, masks, breath play, impact play, mirrors, finger sucking don't look at me, dry humping, clothed sex, ripping off clothes, size kink, ass play, lots and lots of degredation including use of sl*t/wh*re/fvcktoy/c*cksleeve, yunho is seriously mean in this i'm not kidding, fear, forced orgasm, orgasm denial, creampie, subspace, there's more i'm sure but this one is a doozy. also lots and lots of aftercare!! after a scene like this i had to write detailed aftercare and confirmation of limits, so that's there too! yunho is v sweet when not in the zone.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: smut and more smut, no plot in sight

word count: 7.9k

The party is in full swing when you arrive. The house bumping with music and every corner decorated for Halloween. You’re late enough that you can just slip in through the back door, and that was the plan from the start. Yunho arrived first, nearly two hours ago, and made excuses for why you were late, for how you might not even make it to the party. No one would see either of you come or go together, so when you both disappeared to play your game no one would ever know. You had come up with the plan in bed, whispered fantasies and what-ifs between the sheets as he rewarded your willingness to try something new with his tongue. 

His fantasy is special, and to do it right you can really only do it on Halloween night. 

You weave through a throng of drunk acquaintances, searching the crowd for him, but it’s not as easy to find him as you thought it would be. You’re not sure how a six foot something Ghostface killer could hide from you in the crowd of your friend’s house party, but no matter how many rooms you check you can’t see him. Nervousness pits inside you as you check your phone and see nothing. He could be caught up with friends, he could be changing his mind, but you can’t tell if you can’t find him. 

Adjusting your very 90s costume, you dart away from the kitchen where a group of your girlfriends are pouring shots and weave your way into the back of the house. Maybe you can call him? Text him? Would that completely ruin the mood of psycho killer stalking? Maybe, but it’s been forty-five minutes and you haven’t so much as seen a sliver of his mask. 

You flick through your phone, checking for any new messages, and then scroll to find Yunho’s contact card in your phone. Your finger hovers over the call button as you lean against the quiet hallway wall, and then in your peripheral vision you see it. 

A dart of black, something looming, and when you finally turn your head, you see him. Ghostface, standing wide and imposing in the hall, blocking any way past him and back out into the party. 

“Spooky,” You sigh, tucking your phone away. 

Silently, Ghostface nods his head. 

The hair on the back of your arms stands up. This is it. 

“What? Are you looking for the bathroom or something?” You take a step or two towards him, leaning into the character you dressed for. 

He shakes his head. 

“Looking for me?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling. 

Slowly, he nods. 

“Mm,” You raise a brow at him, “what’s the line from that movie? You wanna play psycho killer?” 

His head tilts slightly to the side and he nods once again. 

“And who do I play?” 

He takes a step towards you and you fade back. 

Fear starts to spread through you, even with it all being pretend, you can’t fight the feeling that your subconscious drums up in your gut. 

He takes another step, and then another, and then you’re running. 

Spinning on your heel you push deeper into the house, away from the party and towards a line of doors down the hall. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, your stomach a bundle of nervous trembling knots, and your hands are so slick with sweat you can barely grab the door handle of the basement. It’s not as easy to run as it looks in the movies, especially not in a tight skirt and penny loafers, and you skid down the basement stairs taking them two at a time until you slip forwards and crash down onto your hands and knees. 

You don’t have time to assess the sudden sharp pain as the skin of your palm drags over the concrete floor though, so you scramble up in a flash and in a panic you weave your way deeper into the basement. 

It’s familiar enough to you, your best friend’s parent’s place. You know there’s a tiny half bathroom in the far back corner, a rarely used guest bed against one wall as you descend the stairs, a collection of old video games and movies, and then around the corner to the left more and more basement, more storage, more dusty nooks and crannies to hide. You’re frozen for a split second, trying to decide the best place to go where he won’t find you, but heavy footfalls on the stairs ring in your ears like drum beats and you don’t have time to weigh your options. 

You take off towards the bathroom, fumbling with the door again when you reach it. 

The masked man behind you doesn’t say anything, but you hear him moving. His feet are sure and quick, the heavy fabric of his robes making a whooshing sound as he darts forwards to try and close the space between your bodies. 

A panicked sound leaves your mouth as you tumble into the sink, clocking your hip hard on the porcelain and bracing yourself on the wall. Turning you reach back for the door, if you just get it latched maybe you can give yourself a second to think, to shimmy out of the very small, high set window. Pushing yourself into action you grab the door, he’s so close you can hear his breath, seconds away. Seconds away. 

The door stops abruptly as you throw your body against it, six inches from closing. You push again, but it doesn’t budge, and when you look down it’s clear you’ve lost this game. His heavy black boot is firmly set in the door’s path, and you know there’s no chance for escape. 

He crowds you instantly, leaving you no time to recover, his body pushing into the cramped space of the bathroom and flinging the door backwards into the adjacent wall. You stumble into the sink and he moves right up against you, the firm length of his body pinning yours in place. 

For a moment everything is still, completely and shudderingly still with only the sound of your hitched breathing and thundering heart filling the room. You’re not sure what you should do - beg? Plead? Stay silent and let him do what he wants? 

The masked man’s head tilts to the side as if he’s observing you, something you can’t tell through the ghostly plastic of his mask and dead black eyes. You’re trembling for real, hands shaking as they grip the cool porcelain. Ghostface leans into you, one of his gloved hands reaching for your face, a soft brush against your chin at first that turns to pressure as his fingers slide up your jaw to push you face to the side. It’s like he’s studying you, his hand slipping lower and dragging down your throat. 

Your breath comes faster, stomach tight. 

Ghostface closes his hand around your throat and your eyes widen. He holds you like this for a moment, his other hand locking down over your waist and gripping you tight, pinning you in place. 

When he squeezes, panic bubbles through your body. 

Yunho’s never choked you before. He’s never even suggested it, despite all your little jokes about how nice his hands would look around your neck. It seemed pretty clear to you that within the bounds of your relationship that was one thing he just wasn’t interested in, but whoever has you in the bathroom knows exactly how to hold your throat and where to press. Part of the fun is not knowing who’s beneath the mask, but your body still locks up, and an anxious voice inside you starts to wonder - what if? It’s not as if Ghostface is that rare of a costume choice, you see dozens of them on the street every year. It’s not inconceivable to think that at this party there would be more than one. 

Your heart beats in fluttering fits and starts in your ribcage as your mind turns over this possibility, and then he squeezes. The fight comes back into you full force when you hear him sigh, his hand tightening even more and cutting off your airway. You wriggle in his arms, pushing against his chest and trying to use your hips for leverage, a startled whine ripping from your throat, but fear laces through your body as you shove against him and realize just how immovable he is. 

Ghostface releases your throat, the same gloved hand slipping into the back of your hair to hold you steady. 

“No!” The word tumbles out of your mouth as soon as you can properly make noise again. 

He crowds you more, masked face dipping by your ear, “Shh, shh,” 

You freeze. 

“Safe word?” Yunho’s voice is a balm in your moment of sudden panic, his tone low and hushed. 

“T-treasure,” You manage it, the realization coming back into your body that this isn’t a total and complete stranger, it’s still him. Your fear starts to melt into anticipation. 

He gives you a squeeze, just one gentle pulse with his hand on your hip to communicate that he’s heard you, “Color?” 

You take a second to assess yourself. This game is intense in a way that you’ve never experienced. Yunho had tried to tell you how your body might react to this kind of manufactured fear, how it would play tricks on you, how even if you knew it was him your body would still have the urge to fight and flee. You knew it, but you didn’t really understand it until this moment. 

Yunho’s gloved thumb drags lovingly over your cheek for just a moment, “Color?” 

If he has to ask you a third time he’ll end the scene, you know he will, but the brief flicker of tenderness in his touch reminds you of everything you already know about him. He has you. You’re safe. This is a game. 

“Green,” You finally answer, “I’m green,” 

One more quick pulse to your hip, he’s heard you again. More than that, he’s pleased with you. 

His shoulders straighten as he draws to his full height, his body filling the space of the tiny bathroom and caging you in. You swallow tightly, audible in your ears and then he moves fast. 

His hands around your waist, lifting you up and then shoving you back until you’re sitting on the lip of the porcelain sink, uncomfortably balanced and pushed back flush to the mirrored wall behind you. You yelp when he moves you, hands scrambling for purchase on something, gripping the sleeve of his black cape in desperation. Fear and anticipation pulse through you, but he doesn’t give you a rest to get your bearings. 

He shoves your legs open wide and slots between your thighs and shoves your face to the side until your cheek is squished against the cold mirror, his hand a controlling brace from your jaw to the crown of your head. 

“You look so pretty running from me,” He strokes your face, but this time it’s not loving, it's possessive, it’s pure control. 

You grip the edge of the sink and whimper. 

“Should we play a little game?” He teases, “It’s Halloween, you must like scary movies,” 

Your breath quickens, “Y-yeah,” 

He drops his voice low, in a mimic of the movie, “What’s your favorite scary movie?” 

You’ve heard Yunho do that voice before, lazing on the couch last October when you had yourselves a movie marathon, the day he realized something about your favorite scary movie that turned you on, the day you called him out for being hard during a kill scene. It took a year for you both to work up the courage to actually act on any of those fantasies, but here and now with his mask on and his voice low, you feel that mix of terror and arousal bleeding through your body in a way only he can elicit from you. 

You can’t help the little smile that passes over your lips, “Scream,” 

“Meta,” He teases, pinching you hard on the thigh,  “for every question you get wrong, I’m taking something off you,” 

You swallow hard again. 

He reaches into his black robes and then you see it, shining in the reflection of the mirror and in your hazy peripheral vision. The glint of a real knife is unmistakable, the cool sharp edge of the steel crystal clear and you can’t stop the actual fear that jolts through you. You jerk in his hold, instinct driving you for a split second, and he pushes your face harder into the mirror. 

“Tch,” He makes a disappointed noise with his tongue against his teeth, “the game’s no fun if you don’t play.” 

He won’t hurt you, at least not in ways you don’t already like. You have to trust that. 

Settling yourself with a slow breath you summon the act he wants, find the fear within yourself and let it inform your words to give him what he wants. 

“Please, don’t,” You’re trembling is real, that you know. 

He shifts between your legs, drawing the knife closer, shifting it in his hand so he simply presses the cool flat side of the blade against one of your nipples. You hiss at the sensation, tightness building in your gut. 

“First question,” He drags the knife a little over your nipple, “What movie franchise is Jason from?” 

It’s an actual quiz, of course it is. At least he’s starting off easy. 

“Friday the Thirteenth,” You reply fast. 

“Correct,” He lifts the knife, and with the blade pointed away from you, he pushes up your tight tshirt until it’s bunched above your breasts. 

“I got that right,” You glance down at the way he’s touching you, breaking his own rules already. 

“Just getting a better view,” He insists, and then the cool knife is against your nipple again, only the thin fabric of your bralette between skin and steel. 

Your body is aching in this position, but you can feel the heat off his body, and the heady tone of his voice from under the mask still has you starting to ache in different places. 

“Let’s make this a little harder,” He taps the knife against you and you shiver, “what movie has a group of teenagers being stalked on an island by a killer fisherman?” 

“It’s,” You start to answer but he taps the knife again and you jolt, “fuck, it’s I Know What You Did Last Summer,” 

You watched it with him two weeks ago. You remember it, clear as day. 

“Wrong,” The knife twists, the tip gently skating over the swell of your breast. 

“Wait,” You start but he tips the knife under the center of your bra. 

“I Still Know What You Did Last Summer,” He clarifies the sequel, “they weren’t on an island in the first movie. I thought you liked scary movies,” 

“I,” You press back into the wall as the knife edge kisses your skin, “I… I do,” 

“You’re not very good at this,” He twists the knife and drags the sharp edge out so that it severs your thin bra in half, falling open and revealing your breasts to his wandering eyes. 

A little gasping sound leaves your lips, a desperate noise you try to bite back, but he hears it. 

He hums a soft, amused laugh and suddenly the knife is gone, sheathed and away and he leans into your space again, “You fucking like this, don’t you?” 

“No,” You insist, despite the way your stomach is in tight knots. 

“Did running away get you hot?” His gloved hand skims over your exposed body, “Do psycho killers make you wet?” 

“Fuck,” You whine, “no, no,” 

“Liar,” He whispers, and then he delivers a pointed slap to your thigh, “spread.” 

Your legs widen instinctively at his command, but he doesn’t reward you or praise you like he normally would, this is different. He reaches under the hem of your taut mini skirt, finding the apex of your thighs, and his fingers gently rub up and down from the base of your slit to your clit. A tiny gasp bubbles out of your throat. 

“Are you afraid?” He all but growls. 

Your stomach flips and his hand tightens in your hair, “Y-yes,” 

“Tell me you don’t want this,” He finds the edge of your panties and drags them to one side. 

“I don’t want it,” You answer him, body shaking now. 

“Tell me to stop,” One gloved finger presses into your entrance, the softness of the leather and the warmth of his skin beneath it making you tremble. 

“Stop,” You beg, “please, please, stop,” 

“Why would I?” He slowly pushes inside, stretching you around his finger, “When I know how wet being fucked by a stranger in a mask makes you,” 

A tense thready sound pulls from your throat as he adds a second finger. 

“If you don’t want this,” He pulses his hand once, forcing both fingers deep into your slick channel, “why are you panting like a dog in heat?” 

“N-no,” 

“If you don’t want it,” He whispers, “don’t come.” 

Your eyes shut as his hand starts moving, a steady pulse of his gloved fingers inside your aching cunt, curled just right in the way he knows gets you off fast. A pumping drag against your g-spot, the sound of his heavy breath, the unmistakable sensation of your own wetness making a mess between  your thighs. 

“Looks like you want it to me,” He adds the circle of his thumb against your clit and you jerk in his hold. 

“Stop, fuck,” Your nails dig into his forearm. 

“You don’t want me touching you, but you’re soaking my fingers,” 

“N..No, no,” You babble, heat pooling in your gut. 

“Fight it,” He pumps his fingers faster, drumming against your sweet spot, “don’t come,” 

You hiss sharply, pleasure dropping low in your belly, the sensation of his gloves and his hot hand too much to bear. 

“Moaning like you want it,” He laughs, pulling his hand suddenly out from under your skirt and yanking your head back to center. 

You yelp at the position change and the sudden lack of contact but he doesn’t make you wait for long. 

“Open,” He smacks your cheek lightly. 

Your mouth falls open and he shoves both gloved fingers between your lips. You choke against the suddenness, at the way he presses down on your tongue, blinking to clear the haze from your eyes. 

“Suck.” 

You shiver, your lips closing over his digits, the sharp taste of leather mixed with your fluids assaulting your senses and you can’t fight the moan, the way your eyes drift shut as you swirl your tongue. 

He hums, pleased, “Does it hurt?” He asks. 

His question doesn’t make sense, and you blink your eyes back open to look up at the cool passiveness of his ghostly mask. 

“Pretending you’re not a whore?” He clarifies and your mouth stills over his fingers. He pulls them out, delivering one more pointed slap to your cheek, and dives back down to plunge them back into your aching cunt, “Moaning like that, your nipples rock hard, and this pussy,” 

You choke, a bubble building in your core as he abuses your slick channel again. 

“Clenching around my fingers, sucking me in,” He chuckles, “I can feel you, baby,” 

“Fuck, fuck,” 

“Hold back,” He doubles his efforts between your thighs and you keen, “if you don’t want it, tell me to stop, don’t come,” 

“Stop!” You whine, giving him exactly what he wants, “Please, please,” 

“No,” His thumb rubs fast, his hand practiced at making you fall apart at the seams, “you come, you keep your eyes open, and you come all over my fucking hand,” 

Your breath is fast, heart pounding, and you feel the cord tightening in your belly in a way that makes you want to rub yourself back up into his touch but he has you pinned, stuck, at his mercy just like he wants. 

“Come,” His voice is clear, authoritative, and familiar. Like a trained response, your body releases and cracks open into a desperate orgasm, crumbling in his hands as you pitch forward onto his shoulder and grind your hips down to take the last little bit of what you need from his fingers. 

When his hand stills, you realize you’re still clinging to him and you jerk back, one hand over your mouth as you try to recover your breath. 

He steps back, his hands sliding off you and body slotting out from your thighs. You can’t see Yunho beneath the mask, but you know he’s looking. You can feel his hot gaze sliding over your body and taking in every wet and shaking inch of you. Your body is throbbing with need, but the game isn’t done, he hasn’t even made you touch his cock yet, and you know there’s no way you’re making it out of this basement without that. 

“Tell me again how you don’t like it,” He finally says. 

You shiver. 

“Cat got your slutty little tongue?” He prompts you again, voice hardening. 

You swallow hard, finding your words, “I didn’t like it,” 

“Mhm,” 

“I d-don’t want you to touch me,” You lie. 

“Yeah?” He teases, “Well then run,” 

“W-what?” Your eyes flick up to the impassive plastic of his mask. 

“If you didn’t like it, why are you still sitting there?” He takes a step to the side, clearing your path to the door and you slide off the edge of the sink, your loafers making a click onto the tile floor. 

You swallow hard, eyes darting out to the rest of the basement. 

“Come on,” He teases, and you can hear the sick smile in his voice, “try to get away,” 

You look between him and the room ahead of you again.

He leans forward and you shiver, his gaunt stretched mouth at your ear again, “I can’t fuck you if I can’t catch you,” his gloved fingers yank your top down over your exposed breasts and he chuckles, “better run fast.” 

You spring forwards, adrenaline pumping through your body and blood rushing in your ears. Leaping out of the bathroom he gives you a couple steps to get a head start, but he’s so much bigger than you, his stride so much longer, and he closes the distance with ease as you scramble in mock terror to get to the steps. 

Yunho’s arms close around you, hauling you up off your feet and against his chest, his touch rough and probing as he drags you up into the air. 

“No!” You shriek, “Fuck!”

“You think I’d really let you go?” He laughs, “After that?” 

“Fuck you!” The words bubble up out of your mouth. 

“That’s the idea,” His hand slides down your belly, closing over your cunt and cupping you tightly. 

Your body is reacting before your mind, and you jerk in his hold, kicking back your leg and catching him in the shin with the flat heel of your shoe. 

He groans and wrenches you higher in the air, “Keep struggling,” he pants, “I like it,” 

You twist again, trying to free one of your arms, but he has them pinned tightly to your body, “Get the fuck off me!”

“Not a fucking chance,” He takes two wide steps to the mattress and then tosses you down. 

You collapse onto the bed, the old and rarely used springs creaking under your weight, and your scramble forwards in some kind of an attempt to get your bearings, but he’s on you just as fast. He yanks you back with a hand around your ankle and in a flash he’s on top of you. 

He presses one hand firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you pinned face down to the bed, and then his body weight drops down as he straddles the backs of your thighs. Your hands curl into the bedding beneath you, rough sheets and scratchy camp blankets, nothing soft and soothing to take a moment of comfort in. 

His free hand wanders, searching your body slowly. The sound of the party raging upstairs drowns out any competing noise, but you can still hear his heavy breath against the mask and your pounding heart, the sound of anticipation thick in the air around you. 

Yunho presses his hips forwards and you feel the thick hard length of his cock through his costume nestled against your backside. 

“Look at you,” He palms your ass, “shaking for me,” 

A whimper leaves you as his fingers dig into your back. 

“Do I scare you, baby?” He delivers a harsh slap to the back of your thighs and you yelp, “Are you fucking terrified?” 

Another slap leaves you trembling and you hide your face in the mattress, pressing your eyes shut tight. You love when he touches you like this and he knows it. You bite down hard on your lip to keep from whining, wetness pooling in your core. He wanted you scared, he wanted you fighting, you can’t give in just because his glove on your stinging skin feels like sin. 

He groans, his cock pressing down harder to your ass and you feel both his hands slide from your hips up to your back and back down again until he has a grip on your waist. 

A whimper slips out from between your lips.  

Yunho freezes above you, his thumbs massaging a quick circle into your lower back, “Color?” 

“Green!” Your voice is muffled by the bedding but you know he heard it. 

He groans, pulsing his hips to rut his cock against you again. 

Even between layers of fabric, you can feel the heat of him, throbbing and ready for you. Your mouth waters as you picture it, cockhead leaking precum and Yunho’s familiar hand wrapped around the base as he directs it to your mouth. 

“Little slut,” He chuckles and it pulls you straight out of your mental fantasy, “rubbing that ass on a stranger’s cock,” 

Your stomach clenches, and you twitch under him. 

“That’s fucked up,” He drops his body weight over you, one hand pushing your head to the side as he leans over you, “you’re so fucked up, aren’t you?” 

Your breathing is fast, a thready sound in your throat. 

“Aren’t you?” His voice is low, a shade away from a growl, and he rocks his hips again to rub his cock against you. 

“N-no,” You try to shake your head but his hand tightens against your scalp. 

“Liar,” He keeps grinding against you, his free hand snaking underneath your bodies to grope your breast, “I know a needy whore when I see one,” 

You moan into the sheets as he tweaks your nipple, tears springing to your eyes as he palms you, taking you apart with every touch. 

“Let’s see how you like this,” He pinches your nipple once more and you squeal at the sharp sensation that rockets through your chest, a sharp line down to your clit, and then he slides back and shuffles back to sit up over your thighs. 

He pushes the stiff fabric of your mini skirt up over your ass and then you feel the cold metal again. 

You jerk underneath him, and he tuts softly, the sharp edge of the weapon gently dragging over the curve of your ass cheek. 

“Tell me,” He grips your flesh tightly with one hand, painfully pinching, “do you still like scary movies now that you’re in one?” 

You shake your head, a whimper on your lips when the knife slips under the edge of your panties, “P-please, don’t,” 

He yanks the knife up and splits one side of your panties with a taut snap of fabric, “Please?” He taunts, “Please?”

You sob softly in response. 

“Is ‘please’ all you can say?” He delivers a sharp smack to your exposed ass check and you jerk under him. 

“I can’t,” You shake your head into the sheets, “I can’t,” 

He sighs, and you feel the knife shred the other side of your underwear and then you hear the sound of the blade clattering to the floor. With both hands free he palms your exposed flesh, squeezing you almost painfully and inspecting your exposed body. 

Shivers run through you, and you try to hold yourself still for his touches. 

“Which hole should I fuck first, hmm?” His fingers search you, probe you. 

Your body locks up tightly, a gasp on your lips. You hadn’t discussed that, and you shake your head. 

“Scared?” He ghosts his fingers over your rim. 

“Please,” It’s all you can manage. 

“Beg me,” He presses down with his thumb, “beg me not to fuck your ass if you’re so scared.” 

You scramble in the sheets but he has you stuck, “Please don’t, don’t fuck me like t-that, you’re too big, it’s too,” 

He massages one cheek and hums, “What should I do then?” 

“What?” You crane to look back at him, at the masked man pinning you down. 

“Beg,” He says it like he’s bored, like it’s obvious, “beg me to put it somewhere else, or I will fuck this pretty ass open and make you say thank you.” 

Heat floods your belly, your body a sizzling live wire, and you fall right into step with a heady whine, “Please, fuck my pussy,” 

“Again,” 

“Fuck my pussy, please, I’m begging you,” Your voice sounds needy and strange even to your own ears, “I need it inside me, g-give it to me please, fuck my pussy, please,” 

“Better,” His hands disappear into his robed costume and then he pushes forwards, his cock finally free and sliding up and down your slit to find your aching entrance. 

“Y-yes,” You drop your head back down to the bed and in one sharp thrust, he pushes his thick length all the way inside you until his hips are flush with your ass. 

Yunho groans, bracing himself with one hand on the back of your neck and the other on the bed beside you, the mattress creaking with every shift, “Needy pussy,” 

“Fuck,” You moan. 

“Greedy,” He punctuates his words with a sharp thrust, starting to pick up the pace now in earnest, “gripping my fucking cock like that,” 

All you can do is hold on, bite down on the sheets and let him use you, focus on the sensation of his impossibly hard cock driving in and out and in and out. 

“Are you crying for me? Hmm?” He rolls his hips, the fabric of his costume dragging against you as he fucks into you faster. 

Your eyes are wet, pleasured tears bubbling up and you nod, a tiny sob passing through your lips. 

“Good cocksleeve,” He presses down harder with his hand on your neck, forcing you lower into the mattress. 

Your back arches instinctively, and you whine at the angle change. A few more thrusts and you’ll be done for, you know it. 

“That’s it,” He pants, voice muffled by the mask, “come for me,” 

“C-close,” The words tumble out. 

“Come for me,” He stays steady with his thrusts, pushing your orgasm closer and closer, “come for me, come for me,” 

“Ah!” You fist the sheets, legs starting to shake, “Ah, fuck, fuck!”

“Come on this stranger’s fucking cock,” He grunts, shuddering above you, his fingers digging into your skin and no doubt leaving a bouquet of bruises behind. 

So close to the edge, just a little more will tip you over, and you whine, “Harder,” 

He gasps, forcing his pace to clap harder, deeper, and it only takes two pointed thrusts of his cock into the deepest parts of you to send you careening over the edge. 

“Coming,” You twist beneath him, moaning into your fist, “oh, god,” 

“Fuck,” He curses as your muscles clench and flutter around him, “fuck, oh fuck,” 

Your orgasm has your body locked up and shuddering, but when he pulls free suddenly you gasp into the bedding, “N-no, no, please,” 

He yanks off any scrap of clothing you have on with frantic hands and then rolls you in the sheets so that you’re lying on your back spread open for him. You try to form a sentence, to ask what’s happening but suddenly he’s tearing off his mask and the world slows to a stop. 

Yunho’s sweaty, flushed pink in the cheeks eyes blown wide with need, his plush lips parted and his chest heaving with labored breaths. In a flash he’s stripping off the costume, peeling off his gloves and kicking off his boots. 

“Come here,” He spreads your thighs wider and presses down over you, his cock finding your entrance with ease as he sheaths himself again in one thrust. 

You moan sharply and wrap your arms around his shoulders as he collapses over you. 

“Need you,” He pumps his hips, “have to have you,” 

Pleasure crackles up your body, “Yours,” you nod, “I’m yours,” 

He presses his mouth to yours, kissing you hot and hard, “Fuck,” he groans. 

Yunho gathers you closer, your slick bodies now flush together as he rocks into the warm cradle of your hips, “never heard you moan like that,” 

Your walls clench around him. 

“You wanted me to do this,” He groans between messy kisses, “you wanted to run,” 

You nod, lips pressed together. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He pumps into you harder, like he’s desperate to get as deep as possible, “my dirty girl,” 

“Oh, fuck,” Your head falls back against the bed, a pleasured moan caught in your throat. 

“My little fucking slut,” He groans, tipping your hips open wider, his hands tight on your skin, “so desperate to come on stranger cock,” 

You whine sharply, nails digging into his back. 

“Say it,” He threads a hand through your hair and tugs your head back up roughly, “say it,” 

“Yes!” You whine, “Yes, I-I need it,” 

His gaze darkens, the cool mask of your dominant returning, and he slaps your cheek sharply, just enough to give you a pointed sting, “Need what?” 

Your brain is soft, fuzzy with pleasure, but the slap focuses you and you blink, “Need to come,” you pant as he thrusts into you, “on a stranger’s cock, need you to… fuck, need you to take it,” 

He nods, lips parting open in pleasure, “That’s right,” 

Your stomach tightens, pressure dropping low in your belly and you can’t stop feeling the way his cock punches into the deepest parts of you over and over again. Your eyes close tight and you hold onto him, one of your hands slipping up to his neck to tangle into his black hair. 

“Oh,” You’re so close, almost there, “Y-Yunho, oh, god,” 

His hips thrust forward once more, burying his cock impossibly deep and then he stops. That’s when you realize your critical mistake. 

“Is my cock so good you forgot your manners?” He says and your eyes fly open. 

You don’t know what to say, you don’t know how to recover, your head is too mixed up to know what’s up and what’s down and you’ve never played a scene where he’s a stranger before. You’re used to your rules, you’re used to calling him sir or daddy or master, but now you feel unmoored. 

“Now you don’t get to come,” He leans back, taking your wrists in his hands and pushing them down flat to the bed. 

You know better than to protest, but you’re sure he can feel you shaking. 

He drops closer, pinning you open with the weight of his body, his head nudging yours to the side, “Maybe you’ve forgotten who’s in control here, baby,” 

Liquid heat spreads through your body and you shake your head just a little. 

“So drunk on cock,” He bites at your ear, “you forgot you don’t want this,” 

Your pussy tightens, and you hear him chuckle. 

“Filthy,” He maneuvers your arms above your head so that he can close both your wrists together in one of his large hands, “fucked up little fucktoy,” 

Your eyes roll back and you fight the urge to move your hips, his words enough to put you on the precipice. 

A sharp slap stings over your exposed breast, your nipple hardening even more and Yunho draws his hips back before slamming forwards, driving you deeper into the squeaking mattress. At the painful stretch, the sharp sting inside, you do cry out. 

“Does it hurt?” He thrusts again, just as hard. 

You struggle under him, a little for play and a little because it does hurt, but you love the way he groans when you please him and you can’t stop, “Y-yes,” 

“Too bad,” His hand claps over your mouth and then he starts to fuck you again for real. 

Pleasure and pain in equal parts spike through your body, a perfect combination to get you right up to the edge of orgasm, but you know you’re not allowed. You moan into his hot hand, the sound feral and taut, tears gathering in your eyes and slipping down your temples into your hairline. 

Yunho slides the hand on your wrists up to clasp your hands together palm to palm, still pinning you to the bed but offering you a line of communication you desperately need in a scene like this. He doesn’t stop, but his eyes find yours in the dim light of the basement and he squeezes your hand once. You squeeze back just once, your silent sign to keep going. 

He keeps driving into you, cursing every time you moan and clench around his thick length, the mask of dominance slipping again as he starts to rut into you with artless, needy thrusts. He’s chasing his own pleasure now, with no regard for your own release. 

“No one’s coming to help you,” He groans, “you’re mine,”

 You can’t hear everything he says, not with your mind spinning so close to a forbidden orgasm and his pants and groans punctuating every few words, but you hear it when he says he’s coming inside you. 

Thrusting deep, he spills himself hot in your belly, hips grinding into yours to milk himself dry as he moans into your ear. The bubble of your own pleasure builds with every rock of his body and you whimper into his hand, tears spilling over as you try not to let it take you. 

Yunho’s hand pulls away from your mouth and suddenly his fingers are rubbing fast and firm on your swollen clit, his cock still buried deep. 

“Ah, n-no, please,” You grip his hand tightly and lock your eyes closed, trying to pull yourself back from the edge, “please,” 

“Fuck,” He groans, overstimulated. 

You’re going to come, there’s no way to hold back if he’s going to torture you like this and you thrash under him, “I can’t,” you’re sobbing in earnest now, “I can’t hold it,” 

“Shit,” He curses sharply, “come, sweetheart, come, I’m so sorry,” 

At his permission, your pleasure rips through you, a hot slice of rapture rocketing up your body. Your ears are ringing, black dots over your vision, and your body wrenches up with tight shakes in a way that only a soul shattering orgasm could do. You vaguely hear your own voice, a babbled string of ‘thank-yous’ and sobs, but it feels like someone else. All you know is warmth, and the deliciousness of earned pleasure. 

When consciousness starts to creep back in, the first thing you feel is Yunho’s gentle hands on your cheeks. He’s murmuring something, but it takes your mind a second to process, and you blink your eyes open slowly to find his face. 

“Hey,” He’s back to soft and warm, your tender lover, “oh, there you are,” 

“Mm,” You manage. 

He looks you over slowly, warm brown eyes flicking over your skin, “Does anything hurt, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, still boneless and trembling in the scratchy blankets. 

“Hmm?” He nudges you, pushing for a verbal response. 

“I’m okay,” You respond, but your voice is small. 

Yunho, so attuned to you, looks back up and shifts up the bed to meet your eyes, “Feeling floaty?” 

“Mm,” You nod, recognizing distantly that the intensity of your play tonight pushed you right into subspace. 

“Ah,” He smiles warmly, “come here,” 

He gathers you close, arms wrapping around you as he tucks you into his chest and pulls the plaid camp blanket up higher over both of your naked bodies. His skin feels so essential, a necessity like eating or breathing, and you nuzzle into his warm chest. 

“You’re okay,” He soothes you, stroking your back, “you’re safe, you’re safe with me,” 

A heavy breath releases from your chest. 

“That’s it,” He kisses your forehead, “breathe with me, relax with me,” 

Your muscles release one by one. 

“That was just a fantasy,” He soothes you, easing the knotted up feelings in your body with practiced words, “it was just pretend,” 

You nod. 

“Just pretend,” He murmurs, lips tender against your forehead, “none of that was real, nothing I said. I love you, and I will always keep you safe, sweetheart,” 

Your fingers relax, and you realize how firmly you were gripping his arms. 

“There you go,” He murmurs, “I’ve got you,” 

“Yunho?” You manage, your body feeling heavy once again as you start to center. 

He shifts, cupping your cheek as he leans back to get a good look at you, “Right here,” 

“H-hey,” You give him a lazy smile. 

He nods, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “Tell me where you are?” 

“Basement at the party,” You answer. 

“Good,” He nods, “now tell me who you’re with?” 

“You, Yunho,” You reply, practiced now at the routine he uses to help ground you out of the scene and bring you back into reality. 

“Good,” He continues, “tell me three things you can see,” 

You glance around the room, “Old playstation, bicycle,” you look back to him, “your necklace,” 

He smiles as you touch the silver chain around his neck, “Good,” 

You stretch your stiff limbs in his arms and try to snuggle back into his hold but he’s not done yet, especially after a scene that new and that intense. 

“Any pain?” His hands slide over your body. 

“No,” You assure him, “a little sore, but I feel good,” 

He nods, but keeps looking you over anyway. When he turns your hands in his and finds your scratched palms a little line forms between his brows, “What’s this?” 

You look down at the red skin, a few shallow cuts here and there, “I fell,” 

“Fell?” His brow goes high with alarm, “when?” 

“When I was running, I took the stairs too fast,” You tell him honestly, “but it doesn’t hurt, I promise,” 

His fingers trace over the broken skin and he nods, “You promised you’d call the scene if you got hurt,” 

For how rough this man can be with you, for how many times he’s bruised you and made you bleed, he never fails to surprise you at just how tender and soft he is outside of the bedroom. 

“Baby,” You close your fingers over his, “you promised you’d trust me to know my own limits, I’m not hurt, I got a little scrape,” 

His lips close as he considers your words and then he nods, leaning in to kiss each of your palms warmly, “I want to disinfect these at home,” 

“Okay,” You murmur. 

“Anywhere else?” 

“Mm-mm,” You shake your head. 

“But sore?” He confirms.

“A bit,” 

His fingers find your jaw, massaging the muscle there, “When we get home, we’ll run a warm bath. I’ll take care of all your aches, I know I was rough with you,” 

You sigh pleasantly, relaxing into the warmth of his hand and he nods, dipping his face towards yours and capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. 

“You did so perfect for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, voice threaded with emotion, “I’m so… is it too lame to say honored? I… you were so amazing, and you trusted me like that and I,” 

“Yunho,” You smooth back his hair and pull him closer, “I’m alright,” 

His eyes flick over your face, “Yeah?” 

“Yes,” You give him the clarity he needs to know he didn’t hurt you, “you made me feel very safe, even though I was kind of terrified,” 

He stays quiet, like he’s gauging the honesty of your words. 

“Even when I was scared,” You lean in, kissing him quickly, “I knew you wouldn’t take it too far, and you checked in with me. I’m okay, I liked it, I love you,” 

“You didn’t push yourself too hard for me?” He always worries about that, the double edged sword of a submissive who’s desperate to please. 

“No,” You smooth your hand over his cheek, “I liked it alot,”

He nods and snuggles you closer, his fingertips coasting up and down your back softly. He’s quiet for a few minutes, just letting you both come down as easy as you can with thrumming house music upstairs. 

“You liked it?” He finally confirms, carding his fingers through your hair. 

You nod, “A lot,” 

“What I said,” He kisses the top of your head, “during, about you liking it, that was fantasy too, you know that right?” 

You’re quiet, taking in his words. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” He continues softly, “there’s nothing wrong with you for wanting it, all of that was pretend, okay?” 

“I know,” You kiss his chest, nodding against his shoulder. 

“I love you,” He squeezes you, “you know that too, right?” 

You smile, wiggling up in his arms to see his face, “I do,” you kiss him softly, “I love you too,” 

He nods and sighs, “I lost my head a little at the end there,” he admits, “I didn’t communicate well when you needed it, I’m sorry about that.” 

Your brows knit together in confusion. 

“I should have given you permission sooner,” He explains, brushing your cheek with his thumb, “I forgot myself in the scene, I didn’t mean to push you so hard.” 

“Oh,” You smile, “Yunho, I’m alright,” 

“I know you are,” He dips in for a kiss, “but I’m still sorry,” 

“Thank you,” You murmur, pressing your lips back to his, staying warm and still and soft in this moment together, “I know you’ll always take care of me,” 

He nods, his broad hand brushing down your hair. 

“How was the party?” You nudge him a little. 

He smiles, “Fine,” he shrugs, “I was too focused on looking for you, I think everyone thinks something’s up with me.” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” You laugh. 

“Mm,” He nods, “and now I disappeared and we made a mess of this basement,” 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you cut my underwear off, how am I supposed to get out of here,” 

“I brought backups,” He grins wide, proud of himself for thinking that far ahead. 

“You’re a genius,” 

“There is a back door out of the basement though, right?” He looks up around the room trying to find one. 

“Yeah,” You reach out, pointing around the back corner, “why?” 

“It’s extremely obvious that you’ve been fucked within an inch of your life,” He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and stretches next to you, so casual about the way he just rearranged your insides, “and I’m not so sure you’re going to walk straight,”

You laugh sharply and shake your head, “Take me home,” 

“Scary movies on the couch?” He squeezes your thigh as he rolls away, searching for his clothes. 

You shiver, “Maybe, that might be too close to home,” 

Nudging your knee he smiles, “Don’t worry, baby, it’s just a movie.”

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Aisles of Affection

��� content ┆ idol scoups x fem reader, established relationship, jealousy, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.2k. ⌁ summary ┆ After a hectic week, Seungcheol and you decide to go on a grocery shopping date. As you stroll through the aisles, picking out ingredients for a cozy dinner, an encounter with a supermarket worker triggers a wave of jealousy in Seungcheol.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

It had been one of those relentlessly exhausting weeks—the kind that stretched like a rubber band pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. Between work deadlines, classes, and running errands, you and Seungcheol had barely seen each other. So when Friday evening finally rolled around, you decided to do something simple yet meaningful: spend the evening together, just the two of you. A casual date at the supermarket to pick out ingredients for a cozy dinner sounded perfect. You didn’t need anything fancy to enjoy each other's company; just a quiet evening to unwind.

As you made your way to the nearby supermarket, Seungcheol grabbed a cart, pushing it alongside you with his strong, sure hands. You walked in hand-in-hand, his grip warm and firm as he led you to grab the cart. There was something so comforting about its simplicity. You didn’t need extravagant dates when the best part of the day was always being with him. His presence was steady and comforting, like an anchor in the middle of a storm. Even something as mundane as grocery shopping felt special with him by your side.

“Should we start with vegetables or fruit?” he asked, his voice warm and casual, his eyes scanning the signs hanging above the aisles.

“Fruit,” you replied without hesitation. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

He smirked, giving you a teasing look. “You’re always in the mood for something sweet.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Can you blame me? Life’s better with dessert.”

His smile widened at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way you loved. “Alright, fruit it is then.”

As you made your way to the produce section, you noticed Seungcheol looking over at you every now and then, his gaze soft and thoughtful. It was the little things like that—those quiet moments of tenderness—that reminded you just how much he cared. He wasn’t always the type to say it out loud, but his actions spoke volumes. The way he gently guided you through crowds, how he’d grab things off the highest shelves without you asking, or how he’d always make sure your favorite snacks made it into the cart.

Seungcheol was the type of boyfriend who always paid attention to the little things. He knew you loved cherries, so of course, he steered the cart straight to the fruit section. He began scanning the shelves with his sharp eyes, intent on picking the best ones for you. It didn’t take long to reach the rows of colorful fruit. Your eyes immediately went to the cherries, plump and bright red under the fluorescent lights. You reached out to grab a pack, but Seungcheol beat you to it, picking it up and examining it with a critical eye.

“They don’t look that fresh,” he said, frowning as he held the pack closer for inspection. “Let me see if there are better ones.”

You chuckled softly, amused by how seriously he took even the smallest details. “Seungcheol, they’re just cherries. I’m sure they’re fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. “No way, I’m getting you the best ones.” His gaze flicked to a nearby worker stocking the fruit section, a young guy with a friendly smile who seemed happy to help.

And that’s when things started to shift.

The worker noticed Seungcheol’s approach and walked over. His name tag read *Minho* in neat black lettering. He glanced between you two before stepping closer, offering a polite nod. “Hey, can I help you with anything?” he asked, his tone overly friendly as he glanced in your direction, giving you a smile that lingered just a bit too long.

And that’s when you felt the subtle shift.

Seungcheol, who had been calm and easygoing just moments ago, suddenly straightened, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the cherry pack. His jaw set a little firmer, and his eyebrows narrowed just a fraction, barely noticeable, but enough for you to catch it. You sensed the subtle shift in his mood, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Was he... jealous?

“We were just looking for the freshest cherries,” Seungcheol said, his voice polite but a little sharper than usual. “These ones don’t seem great.”

Minho looked at you again, clearly unaware of the silent territorial tension now simmering between you and Seungcheol, smiled, and nodded. “Oh, those are great, but if you want the best ones, we’ve got a new batch in the back. I can go grab them for you if you’d like.” He flashed you another grin before glancing at Seungcheol, who was glaring at him.

You noticed then that Minho’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than it should have, the kind of glance that seemed more friendly than professional. It wasn’t inappropriate by any means, but it was enough to catch Seungcheol’s attention. His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers curling possessively on your skin. His grip was gentle, but there was a clear message behind it.

“No need,” Seungcheol replied quickly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll take these.”

You could feel the simmering frustration rolling off him in waves, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. Minho blinked, clearly catching on to the underlying tension but still oblivious to its cause. “Alright, well, if you need anything else, just let me know,” he said, shooting you one last smile before walking off to help another customer.

As soon as Minho was out of earshot, Seungcheol exhaled slowly, his shoulders still tense. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers tightened on your waist, his face drawn into a tight line. He didn’t say anything as you continued down the aisles, but you knew him well enough to understand what was going on. Your usually confident and calm boyfriend was feeling... jealous.

The thought of it almost made you laugh. Choi Seungcheol, leader of Seventeen, who could command attention with just a look, was jealous over a random supermarket worker? It was adorable, really.

You leaned closer to him as you walked past the dairy section, nudging him gently. “You okay, Cheol?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

He didn’t look at you at first, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the tone of his voice said otherwise.

But he wasn’t fine, and you knew it. You could see the way his jaw was clenched, the way his eyes flicked toward where Minho had gone as if to make sure the guy wasn’t still looking at you. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so out of character for him.

“You sure? Because you’ve been acting a little... off since the fruit section,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he leaned against the cart, his eyes searching yours. There was something vulnerable in his gaze that made your heart squeeze a little. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, though you could tell he was struggling to brush it off. After a moment, he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “It’s just—did you see the way that guy was looking at you?” he asked, his voice low, almost frustrated.

You blinked, genuinely surprised. “Minho?”

“Yeah, him, Minho,” Seungcheol said, his brow furrowing, nearly spitting out the name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “He was practically undressing you with his eyes.”

You tried to hold back a laugh, but the seriousness in Seungcheol's expression made it impossible. You let out a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Cheol, he was just being friendly. I doubt he even thought about me like that.”

But Seungcheol wasn’t having it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Well, I noticed. And I didn’t like it.”

There was a pause as you took in his words, your heart fluttering at the possessiveness in his tone. He wasn’t usually this direct about his feelings, but when he was, it always caught you off guard. You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his dark hair, trying to soothe his worries. Choi Seungcheol—your confident, cool-headed boyfriend—was feeling jealous because of a brief interaction with a random supermarket worker. It was kind of adorable, really.

You leaned up on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, your fingers grazing his jawline. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else, Cheol,” you murmured against his skin. “I’m yours, remember? I always have been.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a protective embrace. “I know...,” he whispered, his tense expression softening just a bit, but the jealousy still lingered in his eyes. “I just hate the idea of someone else thinking they have a chance with you.”

You leaned up on your tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away as he kissed you back. His arms tightened around you, anchoring you in place as if he needed to remind himself that you were still there, still his.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady

 beat of his heart as you stood there, cocooned in your own little world amidst the bustle of the supermarket. No one could ever compare to him, and you hoped he knew that. “You’re the only one for me,” you reassured him softly.

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, the edge of frustration melting away. “I know. I guess I just get... protective sometimes.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “Sometimes? Mmmh… You’re always protective.”

Seungcheol chuckled at that, his mood finally lightening. He gave you a sidelong glance, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Can you blame me? Well, you’re worth protecting.”

As you finished up your shopping and headed to the checkout, the earlier tension seemed like a distant memory. Seungcheol was back to his usual self, joking with you as you debated which snacks to buy. And when you passed by Minho one last time, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seungcheol shot him a quick, pointed look, as if to silently say, *She’s mine.*

And honestly? You kind of loved it.

That night, as you cooked dinner together in the warmth of your small apartment, the earlier jealousy seemed almost silly. But deep down, you knew it meant something more. Seungcheol loved you fiercely, protectively, in a way that made you feel safe and cherished. And even if it meant dealing with the occasional amount of jealousy, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because at the end of the day, you knew one thing for sure: Choi Seungcheol was your boyfriend, and no one—not even a flirty supermarket worker—could ever change that.

Later that evening, after you had returned to your apartment and started cooking together, sneakily eating cherries at times while still thinking back to the supermarket, Seungcheol stood beside you, focused on chopping vegetables while you stirred the pot on the stove. The warmth of the kitchen, the quiet clinking of utensils, and the soft hum of your shared space felt like a balm to the stress of the week.

“So,” you said casually, breaking the comfortable silence. “About earlier…”

Seungcheol glanced at you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Nope. I just think it’s cute that you got jealous over a supermarket worker.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face as if to hide his embarrassment. “I wasn’t jealous—I was just… being cautious.”

“Sure thing, darling,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “Whatever you say.”

He sighed dramatically, setting the knife down before turning to face you. “Fine, maybe I was a little jealous. But can you blame me? You’re the most amazing person in the world, and I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a shot with you.”

You felt a surge of affection as you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently against his skin. “You have nothing to worry about, Seungcheol. I’m all yours, forever.”

His eyes softened at your words, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I love you,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen and the comforting presence of the man you loved, you knew one thing for certain: no matter what, no one could ever come between you.

› anonymous review form

yes i had to make it about cherries out of every fruits available... i might just be obsessed thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! don't forget to like, reblog, comment ^^

❀ a/n┆I've been writing a longer fic.. I've no idea if it will ever come to life so I do have a shorter and modified version coming at some point

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[wintfleur]

Hi can u write prompt 18 and 14 🪷 and [comfort] 🌷 with lando? With lando being the one who comforts?? Thank u sm I love u and ur works 💗💗💗💗

౨ৎ sleep darling

﹕─┈ pairings ( Lando norris x female! reader )

°. — summary ( a morning with lando after a restless night )

°. — details ( g; fluff, a pinch of angst? w; none that I know of. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ hugging them tight without saying any words when they're having a hard time + they roll on top of you, cradling your head between their hands as they kiss your nose + a tender kiss to provide comfort or reassurance

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( Tysm for the request lovely & the kind words ! I love you too !!! I had so much fun writing this, it was an amazing request !!! I hope you like it, I tried fitting in the prompts together the best I could !!! Please don’t be a silent reader lovely’s, your thoughts are what keep me motivated to write !!! )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist F1 masterlist

Restless sighs and tired groans leave your lips as you roll over onto your side, now facing your large window that gives you a perfect view of the sunrise. Your eyes dropped down to the sleepy body next to you, he was laying on his stomach with both of his arms under the soft white pillow, the duvet being pulled up to his shoulders, protecting him from the breeze coming through the cracked open window. He looked so peaceful as he slept, that made you happy. 

You missed him, lately he's been busy with getting ready for the start of the new f1 season and even though some days he came home early, you were too busy studying to really spend any time with him. For the past week, the two of you really only spent time together in bed, and most of the time lando was sleeping while you laid wide awake. You barely slept and when you did you woke up in cold sweats from the nightmares that plagued your mind. 

The lack of sleep and the intense studying didn't help your mood, but your sweet boyfriend didn't let your mood get to him, he understands. You felt guilty, he was the absolute sweetest and so understanding, sending you sweet texts throughout the day, getting you flowers and ordering you your favorite food; knowing that you most likely forgot to eat. And yet you couldn't even spare the time to spend more time with him. 

You watched as he scrunched his nose in annoyance and nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow as the sun shines on his face. You begin to feel restless as you continue to lay down, your mind not shutting off even though you've stayed up for the whole night. By the time you decided to stop studying, it was way past midnight and Lando was already asleep even though he tried to stay up for you. 

You felt that guilt creep up and you let out a heavy sigh, you couldn't lay down anymore wasting time. You quietly sit up and move the blankets off your legs and move to get out of bed, but you pause when you hear a tired groan accompanied by your boyfriend's groggy voice “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I'll be right back, go back to sleep baby” you spoke softly so you wouldn't pull him too much out of his sleep as you looked back at him. One of his hands was out from under the pillow as if he was reaching out from you to stop you from leaving, and that's what he intended to do, he was just far to sleep to open his eyes. Lando hummed sleepily “Mmkay hurry back . . . wanna cuddle.” 

You leaned down and placed a soft but quick kiss on his forehead, a sleepy smile forming on his lips at the touch of your lips. You quickly leave the bed, knowing that if you stared at him any longer you wouldn't want to leave the bed. You quietly close the bathroom door behind you before turning on the light. You take your time brushing and flossing your teeth and brushing your hair out of your face, you try not to look at yourself for too long in the mirror. You could see that you were exhausted, the past week not only taking a toll on your mental state, but also your physical. 

You can imagine Lando becoming impatient with how long you were taking in the bathroom if he hasn't fallen asleep yet, so you quickly finish up in the bathroom and shut off the light as you leave. You looked at your bed and for a second you believed Lando had fallen back asleep from how still he was, but you're proven wrong when he grabs the duvet and pulls it back for you, wanting you to lay next to him. Cute. 

You fight the urge of wanting to escape to the living room to study and climb into bed, sliding under the blanket and right next to your sleepy boyfriend. You lay on your side, your hands under your face as you look at a barely awake lando. Lando pulls the blanket up to your shoulders and blinks the sleep out of his eyes, his eyes taking in every inch of your beauty. He could see your exhaustion in your eyes and face, but he thinks you're the prettiest girl ever. 

Lando frowns and tucked the blanket under your neck, his thumb softly caressing your chin “You haven't slept.” 

You didn't bother trying to lie, one you were too exhausted trying to come up with a good excuse and you also know it was no use too anyway. Lando knew you better than anyone else, sometimes even better than you. You sigh and break your eye contact before whispering “I tried.” 

“You should have woken me up, I don't like that you were up alone” Lando continues to frown as he looks at you, feeling guilty because he wasn't up to help you. The thought of you lying awake all night made his heart hurt, he wished you woke him up and he wished he wasn't so tired last night and stayed up. He didn't care if the two of you laid in silence all night in each other's arms, because you would have done it together. 

“I wasn't alone, i had you right next to me” you whispered sweetly as you pulled your hand out from under your face and pushed back his messy hair out of his eyes. A grin spreads across Lando's face at your romantic words and a cute giggle leaves his lips as he quickly moves forward, your body moving to lay on your back as he rolls on top of you. He settled comfortably between your legs, cradling your head with a gentle touch, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on your nose. 

You giggle at the sudden change of position and scrunch your nose at the feeling of his soft lips on your nose, pecking it several times; he knew it made you ticklish. Your hands move up to hold his wrists as you look up into his beautiful eyes, your legs wrapping around his waist under the blanket. He holds your face softly, making sure you keep your eyes on him as he tries his best to make his voice sound stern “I’ll always be with you angel, but you need to rest. you've barely gotten any sleep all week.” 

“I ⸺ “ 

“I'll help you study later; I promise. Just take a little nap with me . . . please” he quickly cut you off, his tone trailing off to a slight beg. He already knew what you were going to say, telling him how you desperately needed to study and that you couldn't waste any time. But he had full confidence in you, he knew you would do just fine in your exams, you were just psyching yourself out to an extreme. 

Lando didn't break eye contact with you as he pulled out his secret weapon that always works on you, a small pout with his puppy dog eyes. You sigh as you look down at his lips, knowing what he was pulling on you and there was no way you could say no to those eyes, and you knew he wasn't going to stop until you agree “Hmm fine.” 

Lando grins and kisses your nose one more time as he brings one of your hands down to pat your thigh, you unwrap your legs around his waist and sit up on your elbows as lando drops to your side, your body wanting to reach out for his warmth that you were already missing and craving. Lando lays on his back and opens his arms for you. 

You scoot closer to lando and he pulls you into his arms and into a tight but comfortable hug, your head rests in the crook of his neck while you drape your leg over his midsection. Lando slips one of his hands under your shirt and starts rubbing your back, your eyes fluttering close at the soothing and comforting touch. Lando fights back a yawn and places a kiss on the top of your head before whispering, “I’ll be right here the whole time, i got you okay.” 

You know what he meant, he wanted to let you know that you were safe in his arms, that you had nothing to fear, that he would protect you from your nightmares. Tears well in your eyes, because of the exhaustion or from the strong feeling of love you felt for him . . . you had a feeling it was the latter. You lean your head back, the movement catching lando’s attention and the two of you lock eyes as you spoke softly “I love you.” 

Lando used his free hand that wasn't rubbing your back and gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up more so he could lean down and take your lips into his for a slow but passionate kiss filled with love and reassurance. The kiss didn't last long but it took both of your breaths away. He slowly pulled away from your intoxicating lips and watched as you laid your head back on his chest, your body melting into his with tiredness. The sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. He whispered breathlessly as his hold on you tightens, his own eyes closing. 

“I love you more, now sleep darling.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( GAWD I HAVE SUCH A WEAKNESS FOR SWEET BF LANDO 😭 AND CONGRATS ON P3 LAN !!! )

°. — taglist ( @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @cixrosie @partyinpitlane @ophcelia @toasttt11 )

[targaryenluvs]

— ALL GROWN UP

pairings: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

summary: you were always tigris's annoying rich friend to coriolanus, but once he returns from 12 you seem to be irresistible, not only to him.

warnings: normal coryo in all honesty, jealousy, flirting, p in v, oral (m), choking, kinda subby coryo - for a bit, time gap he spent a year in 12 (i got lazy this is short and basically just porn with slight plot)

a/n: hehehehe first fic of 2024 kiddos besides the klaus one!

your laughter was the last thing coriolanus wanted to hear, ever. it was still annoying when he was here, and it was still once he returned.

"there's no way!" tigris giggled a loud as you joined in.

"tigris?" he called out to her, waiting. "coryo!" tigris yelled as she ran to him, his arms open for her. "it's so good to see you, you’ve been so busy." you laughed, "your hair, it's worse in person." would you shut up? who were you to interrupt a family-

your night dress was black, short, barely below your crotch. lace details, messy hair, you were nothing short a of a dream, and it was messing with his head. he was so use to hating you, your stupid gorgeous face and here he was, dumbstruck. “y/n?” you nodded with a sweet smile, “how are you coriolanus?”

he sighed, “exhausted, between the university and dr gaul, it seems i’m stretched thin these days.” you nodded along, “it seems you’re well on your way to success.” he inhaled, not use to your kind words, “thank you.”

apparently you were staying with the snow’s for a week or so, much to coriolanus’s elation. surprisingly, in the time he’d been away you’d become, tolerable. it sure as hell had nothing to do with the sway in your walk, your sweet eyes looking up at him and your new found confidence, no he just felt nice.

he was itching to get a taste.

he’d seen you out and about, talking with almost all the people around. a kind smile aimed at quite literally everyone. almost every guy in the restaurant seemed to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

didn’t they know you came for lunch with him?

shouldn’t they know better?

you weren’t his, yet.

it was late at night, you needed something to drink.

grandma’ams tea isn’t exactly the most refreshing. you were in the midst of scouring the kitchen for a teabag of actual flavour when you’d heard him behind you.

“looking for this?” he held the jar in his hands, “actually, yes.” you walked over to grab it and he only held it higher, “coryo, please.” he grinned, “coryo huh?” you placed your hands on your hips, annoyed, “yes, now if you don’t mind.” the jar clattered on the counter and you quickly swiped it away. “would you like some?”

in the reflection of the glass cabinet, you saw him shake his head, “i’m in the mood for something else.” you giggled at his vagueness, “oh? and what might that be mr snow?” his smirk was all you needed to know what he was hinting at. “you’re playing a dangerous game here coryo,” he feigned confusion, “am i now?” you smiled, “yes you are.” he was behind you now, breath heavy and hot on your shoulder, “i might be, question is, are you willing to play?”

his lips were on your neck, light as ever, open mouthed kisses all the way up to your cheek. “cory” he gathered your hair, swinging it over your shoulder, “cory? that’s new.” you smiled, “i know. i’m going to take a shower, wanna join? to conserve water of course.” as if they need to, they had more than enough money now.

“to conserve, of course.”

the hot water rose steam, surrounding you as coryo watched from outside. the fog covered up all the parts he wanted to see, and his night pants seemed smaller. soap running all over you, soft hands trailing down. “i think you’ll get a much better view from in here.”

he ripped his clothes off, practically stumbling around in the soft glow of the guest room lamp. he’d been waiting for so long. ten minutes. his hands massaged your scalp, washing it off remaining shampoo and conditioner. ridding your body of any soap, your shoulders, your stomach, your thighs.

and soon enough he pressed you against the wall, imprints of hands staining the glass. you were both unbearably needy, messy kisses and desperate touches. you revelled in his grasp, you felt as if your skin was on fire. “y/n, please.” he whined. you giggled at his begging, “please what coryo?” you stroked his dick as he groaned out, “suck me off. now.” you laughed at his words, “pretty bossy for someone who was whining like a little bitch two seconds ago.” he was about to protest but your warm mouth on him seemed to shut up all forms of protest.

“oh god.” he leaned his head back on the wall as you dug your nails into the back of his thighs. the water pouring down on the two of you made coryo glisten, his abs looking especially sweet. droplets of water fell down from his hair onto you.

as if you weren’t enough the view of you on your knees, your tuts on display was more than enough for him to explode down your throat. “fuck, when did you learn to do this slut? you been practicing f’me?” his attempt at regaining control had you suppressing your laughter.

but his hand in your hair tugging you to your feet, crazy eyes and a very attractive smirk? “only for you cory.” you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently kissed him, “all for me.”

“please, cory. i need you.” you leaned your head against his as he directed his cock to entrance, teasing you. “you want it?” you nodded your head vehemently, “god just please, fuck me.” he kissed your cheek before pushing in, “anything you say baby.” you moaned out at the feeling of him in you, filling you to the brim. you felt unbearably hot, between the running water and coryo rutting into you it felt like heaven.

you can feel the wetness dripping down your thigh, mixing in with the water, “messy girl, aren’t you?” your hands dug into his shoulders almost painfully, “jump up.” wrapping your legs around of his waist, his hands cupped your ass. his pace is unbelievably brutal, “such a bitch to me, making me look weak.”

you shook your head, “didn’t mean to, didn’t mean to i swear.” you mewl, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, as coryo lets out throaty groans.

“stop crying.”

“i can’t, you feel so good!”

“stop crying or i’m not gonna let you cum.” his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your airway. the dizziness paired with his thrusts inside of you was absolutely delicious. he let up only to mark you before returning to it.

“not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as coryo continued thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "you'll cum when i do.” please cum. you thought, please please please.

his hips slowed down as he groaned, “fuck, all for me yeah? all grown up, aren’t you baby?” your nails marked up his back as he grunted, the hot water seemed to make the fresh marks hurt all the more. coriolanus loved the stinging, almost as much as he loved your cunt.

“cum, cum for me.” you weren’t sure if your release came before or after, but all you felt was unwavering pleasure and relief. you rested your head in the crook of his neck, you were so exhausted. “you did good, so good y/n.” coryo praised you as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

“let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

[jezebelblues]

la vie en rose | h.s

summary: lovey sunday morning in bed that ends with him buried inside her.

cw: smut18+ - penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, smidge of daddy kink, fluff, fem!reader, unedited. tried to be grammatically correct by using upper case if that makes u go wild

word count: approx 2.2k

| ladies forgive me this is like my 2nd time writing smut! building the skill brick by brick fr. mwah :*

masterlist

The morning light slipped through the curtains in soft streams, casting a gentle warmth over the room. The air was still, the kind of quiet that only existed in muted peace with a lover, when the world outside felt distant and time seemed to stretch endlessly. Harry lay on his back, his arm lazily draped around YN’s waist, nestled comfortably into his side like a bear seeking habitat for hibernation. His skin was warm and solid against her, a tingling heat that could have her melt in him.

She stirred first, not fully awake but aware of the weight of his arm holding her. The familiar scent of him - something faintly earthy and sweet - wrapped around her like a second blanket, and for a long moment, she didn’t want to move. His curls smelt like his lavender bergamot shampoo, locks disheveled from letting his hair dry in his sleep. The simplicity of waking up next to him was entrancing, before the world rushed in with all its noise.

He shifted beside her, his nose nuzzling into the crook of her neck, curls tickling her skin. He mumbled something incoherent, half-awake, and then murmured, “Morning, love.” His voice was low and raspy from sleep, the sound of it sending a current through her.

Her eyes fluttered open, but just barely. She didn’t need to see him to know the expression on his face - the soft, lazy smile that always greeted her in the mornings, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges, even when he was half asleep. His fingers trailed absentmindedly along her side, tracing little patterns that sent shivers up her spine. The scent of home and freshly washed sheets stuck to her skin like melted sugar, and Harry swore she was hypnotizing.

“Could stay like this all day.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, then her cheek, his lips lingering just enough to make her want more. There was something about the way he held her, like she was the most precious thing in the world, and she could feel that tenderness in every touch, every kiss. His fingers grazed her arm, barely there, as if he was savoring every inch of her skin.

She smiled sleepily, her voice still thick with the dreams that lingered faintly in the back of her head. “You say that every morning.”

“Mean it every time.” Harry hums, his tone playful but full of affection. He shifted slightly, pulling her closer, as if he needed to feel her heart beat against his. There was a raw intimacy in the way he held her, not just the physical closeness, but the quiet comfort of knowing that this was where he belonged.

For a while, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other, neither of them willing to break the spell of the morning. Outside, the world moved on without them, but in here, time seemed to pause. Her head rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breath, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the soft fabric of his t-shirt. She felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm, a sound more comforting than any lullaby.

His gaze lingered on her face, his eyes tracing every detail, like he was memorizing the way she looked in the morning light. Her features were soft from sleep, cheeks flush and eyes a bit puffy. In that moment he wished he had the talent to paint, encapsulating her beauty in delicate watercolors. “Y’look so pretty when you sleep,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Like an angel.”

She opened one eye, catching the adoring smile on his face, that lopsided grin he always gave her when he was in one of his affectionate moods. “You’re such a sap, Styles.” YN teased, though her voice held no real bite.

His smile widened, the dimples in his cheeks deepening as he laughed softly. “Maybe. But you love it.”

She tried to roll her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. There was something about him, the way he could make her feel completely at ease, completely loved, that always got to her. She parted her lips to speak, but in one fluid motion, Harry rolled her onto him, making her squeal in surprise. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, holding her against him as he laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. His fingers traced along the curve of her waist from underneath his shirt that hung loosely around her frame, his eyes softening. They basked in the sounds of their breathing, the girl rising and falling atop him from every breath he took. He trailed his hand upward, combing his fingers through her hair. "She wasn't doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning against the balcony railing, holding the universe together." He smiled gently, his voice airy and dipped in honey.

Her giggle was breathy and melodic as her fingers reached for his cheek, pinching it ever so slightly with a delicate shake. The two had a thing for randomly quoting literature, and she couldn’t believe he beat her to it this Sunday morning. An excerpt that made her cheeks tinge a shade of pink, the love he felt toward her dripping from the borrowed words. “Shut up.” She smiled, poking his nose.

His expression didn’t change as he adjusted his large hands back under her shirt, brushing up her back, the pad of his index right along her spine. His heart fluttered with the sight upon him, every inch of her skin the tips of his fingers touched belonging to him. His movement slowed to a halt at the top of her waist, gently guiding her down to let his lips meet hers.

The kiss was slow, lingering, a quiet promise in the way his lips moved against hers. His hands continued their exploration over the familiar land as he deepened the kiss, savoring the taste of her. When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his breath cool on her skin.

His lips grazed her neck, the softest of kisses, but enough to send a shiver through her body. He mingled there, his exhales ticking her skin, goosebumps cascading down her body, as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear - making her sigh softly. The weight of her body straddling his felt comforting, grounding, but there was something electric in the way his hands moved, slow and teasing.

Her own fingers responded instinctively, running her fingers along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the tautness of the muscles under her touch. She could sense his heartbeat quickening, matching the growing pulse she felt in her core. She let her hand roam across his torso, her fingertips tracing the lines of his chest and abdomen, delighting in the way he shivered slightly under her touch.

Harry's breath hitched as her fingers brushed lower, and he let out a soft groan, pulling her down beside him. He gripped her waist, her leg tightly looping around his as their lips met again.

Everything about the moment felt slow, deliberate - like they had all the time in the world, yet neither of them wanted to wait any longer. His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, over the sensitive skin just below her ear again. His voice, soft and hoarse, whispered against her, "Turn around.” The sheets rustled with her compliance, the arm that lied beneath her head bending as he placed a light hand around her throat.

YN’s breath hitched, a heat pooling her inner thighs and drenching her sunshine yellow panties. His lips brushed against the crook of her neck, bunching the hem of her shirt up a bit as he pulled her underwear down to her knees. His sigh was heavy, the length of his cock slapping against the small of her back as he freed himself. He mumbled something under his breath, lips skimming along the space where her shoulder and neck met, his hand finding itself between her legs, pulling her thigh upward and hooking the bend of his elbow around her knee. He shifts his hips to line himself with her cunt, YN reaching down to keep him in place. A groan tumbles from his lips as he pushes past her wet folds, filling her completely. She gasps at the feeling of his cock stretching her, Harry tugging the hand on her neck roughly to force her between his head and shoulders, tightening his grip ever so slightly while he keeps his thrusts at a tauntingly slow pace. “Such a good girl.” He murmured absentmindedly, too lost in the pleasure of her walls enveloping him completely.

Her eyes fluttered shut, soft moans emitting from her as he moves his hips quicker. Her arousal doused his cock, wetting her inner thighs - allowing for the noise of wet skin slapping against one another to reverberate off the white walls of their bedroom. She turns her head, peppering sloppy kisses along his jaw as she reaches her arm back to tangle her fingers in his curls.

All their noises combined made a symphony of pleasure, the coil in YN’s core tightening with every push of his hips. Harry’s breath came and went in short gasps, a gleam of sweat slicking his skin. The grip that held her leg up slipped inward and past where he pounded into her, fingers stretching up to the spot where the head of his cock bulged the space beneath her bellybutton from inside, a moan escaping him at the feeling of it. “Daddy-“ She whimpered, tightening around his length while his chin dipped slightly, teeth sinking into the fleshier part of her shoulder. Her head pulled back further into him, his bite light enough to not break her skin, but harsh enough to leave an indent.

He removes his touch from her belly, slapping the bottom of her thigh harshly before holding it up again. She was unable to form anything coherent, her face becoming a shade of red from how much air she lost from her moans. He hummed, low and airy, “Y’pussy is so tight for daddy.”

He selfishly pushed deeper into her, not wanting any void of space left inside of her. He could feel her walls flutter around him, her back barely arching from his chest behind her. He lightened the grip on her throat, holding onto her chin as he forced her to look at him, her lips pouted from his grasp. “Baby-“ He groaned, eyes burrowing into hers. “Fuck- y’gonna come, hm?” He tried to coo through his grunts, his girl’s eyebrows in a furrow from the knot in her belly. She nodded into his hand, eyes wide in desperation. He pulled her chin upward a bit more, his nose brushing against her top lip as he gazed at her through his eyelashes. “Look at me, bunny, don’t move.”

She whimpered, her bum and thighs a flush of pink from the force of his thrusts. YN kept her eyes open, even if they fell half-lidded - knowing Harry would stop if she didn’t listen.

Her legs threatened to close from the pleasure, but Harry forced them to open wider - intentionally teetering her breaking point with a lazy smile spread across his lips. His eyes never left hers, watching every twist and scrunch of ecstasy dance upon her features. Her moans and whimpers were messy, his curls between her fingers tight as she jerked his head back. YN forced her eyes wide, lips parted and unable to close as her release built intensely. His smile turned into a smirk, gazing down at her pretty face through a half-lidded gaze. His cock twitched as she tightened around him once more, her orgasm evident in her expression as she came greedily over his length. He rode out her high, forehead falling against hers while guttural groans made his chest vibrate. His thrusts were sloppy and quick, a small whimper falling from his lips as he shot white ribbons of come inside her.

A beat of heavy synchronized heartbeats and rapid breaths befall them, Harry gently pulling her leg down to finally rest - his length slipping out, nestled between her thighs. She lets out a light sigh as the brunette draped his arm over the curve of her waist, pulling her closer as he presses delicate kisses against her temple.

YN hummed, eyes fluttering to a close as the rhythm of her boyfriend’s chest rising and falling abutting against her - lulled her to the brink of slumber. “For nothing, not the sun, not the rain-” She paused, voice raspy from her previous moans and the sleep that loomed over her. If she didn’t love this book so much, she would’ve forgotten the excerpt entirely. “not even the brightest star in the darkest sky, could begin to compare to the wonder of you.”

Harry was rested into the crook of her neck, and she could feel the way his lips spread into a smile. His thumbs rubbed circles along her hip bone, his breathing slowing. He let out an airy giggle before he parted his rosy lips, "I shoot hot bolts into you. I make your ovaries incandescent."

They both rippled with easy laughter, feeling his belly flutter against her back with every giggle. The sun rose higher as the morning continued to pass by them, birds chirping and cars rolling down their street. They lay intertwined, bodies melting into each other and moulding into one being, each breath in perfect harmony. And in that moment they both could swear this is what heaven must feel like.

[wonsdoll]

THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ⟡ HYUNG LINE

PREC𝓲S ｡｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗉

형라인 ／⠀ female reader ── fluff + non idol au ｡｡ age gap meaning 3 years !! . . . more

HEESEUNG RARELY LETS the age gap get between the two of you. at first it felt a little weird dating someone three years older than you, a few months later it became a normal thing to you. although sometimes heeseung may poke at you, just for the fun of it.

“should i call you my baby?” heeseung laughs to himself, in a joking manner.

“very funny.” you look at him dead serious, although you’re well aware he’s just joking with you. “it’s only three years not a whole decade.” you roll your eyes playfully, pushing him jokingly.

on rather serious days, heeseung uses the gap as an advantage to protect you. “you said people on campus make you feel bad about the gap?” heeseung holds your face, his thumbs caressing your cheek gently.

you nod, unable to speak from being visibly upset. “i don’t care about the number.. i just care about how we make eachother feel.” heeseung wipes your tears away, kissing your forehead lovingly.

“and that’s how it should be.. you don’t care about what anybody says, okay?” heeseung looks you in your eyes, the look to protect you and keep you safe.

JAY LIKES TO PLAY IT COOL, but he’ll never miss a moment to playfully bring up the age gap, especially when you’re doing something that’ll make him feel just a little “older” such as browsing through older movies you haven’t had the chance to watch.

“you’re telling me you’ve never seen this movie before?” jay looks at you shocked, throwing his head back dramatically. “wow i’m really dating a baby.”

you’d roll your eyes at him playfully. “don’t worry.. i’ll catch up on all the old people things.”

beneath all the teasing, jay is very quick to reassure you. whenever you have some sort of second doubt about the age gap, he gets a little serious. his hands would hold yours, jays thumbs rubbing small circles onto your skin.

“i don’t care how old you are. you’re mature, sweet, and absolutely stunning.” jay smiles, his smile instantly brightening your mood. “plus you keep me looking young.” he laughs, pulling you into a tight embrace.

jay is proud of you, and he’s never shy of showing it. the age gap is only a detail to jay, how well you fit together is all that matters.

JAKES ALWAYS LIGHTHEARTED and the age gap between you two rarely seem like a big deal to him. he’d often make playful comments here and there, but at the end of the day it’s always for fun.

“you’re such a baby.” jake teases, when you don’t understand any of his older references, a large grin appearing on his face. “guess i’ll have to teach you about that one.”

you shoot him that look, pretending to be offended. “i’m not that young jakey, it’s only 3 years..” jake laughs. “feels like 300.” you both laugh, your bodies both vibrating within each laugh.

when you sometimes express concern over this gap, jake’s very quick to be serious and reassure you it’s okay. his gaze often softens, his tone gentle and smooth. “you know that whole age thing doesn’t bother me.” his hand reaches for yours.

“you’re perfect for me, and that’s all that matters.” he smiles, pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace. his hugs are always comfort to you.

jake’s affection is clearer than daylight, and to him, your age gap is another thing that makes your relationship unique. he constantly reminds you about what really matters, your love for one another.

SUNGHOON DOESN’T BRING UP the age gap often—it’s not something he often thinks about too much. to him, you’re still you, you never changed and you’re the same person he fell in love with from the start. occasionally, he’ll use it as a way of teasing you.

“do i need to start checking your ID?” he jokes, after hearing about a new trend only you knew about. sunghoon leans casually against the wall, his arms crossed. “you’re making me feel old, angel.”

you roll your eyes, giving him a playful nudge. “you’re not that old hoon.. just a little out of touch with the new trends.”

sunghoon grins and shakes his head, leaning against the wall as he watches you with a soft gaze. “you keep me on my toes.” his finger, gently playing with a piece of your hair.

though he’s super playful about it, there’s a rather thoughtful side when the situation gets more serious. whenever you feel insecure about the age gap, sunghoon’s expressions soften, all his attention on you.

“doesn’t matter how old you are..” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek. “you’re the one i always want, and your age is the least of my concerns.”

✉️ : older boyfriend hyung line is on my wishlist ^_^

[koenigami]

➵ WRIOTHESLEY

synopsis : sometimes all it takes is a little push from a little melusine wc : 1,3k tags : fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader and wrio had an argument

“He’s in a bad mood.” “Did something happen?” “Was it an inmate?” “She left the fortress in a haste.” “Someone heard them arguing. She looked hysterical.” “Oh-oh. A fight?” “Shit, not again.”

The respect that Wriothesley earns himself stems from different kinds of people and different kinds of emotions. Some of them look up to him and his generosity while others are easily intimidated solely by his presence. Usually, the latter ones simply have not had the chance yet to get to know the Duke better. Otherwise they would realise that behind that cool and brutish exterior lies just a guy who likes order and tea. 

However, there is one specific circumstance that will have even Sigewinne lower her head when passing by his Grace’s office. 

“Do you know what they were arguing about?” The little Melusine has been asking around for a while now, looking for eyewitnesses, and writing down every piece of information as if she was solving a scandalous case. She knows very well that as rough as he may seem, Wriothesley is only human. A human madly, truly in love with none other than Fontaine’s top attorney with whom the Fortress of Meropide is in constant correspondence due to work related matters. 

Sigewinne nervously bites the top of her pen as she returns to her infirmary. The taste of plastic makes her grimace in disgust and look at the writing utensil with annoyance as if it had insulted her. She sighs.

It’s been a week since you hurried out of Wriothesley’s office, furiously stomping towards the elevator and staring down everyone and anyone who dared to cross your path. One week worth of missing documents that have not been sent in by you. One week worth of paperwork that has yet to be completed by Wriothesley. (Which is oddly ironic since that man has not left his office ever since your argument.)

Love will make the sanest person go mad, whether it’s in a good or a bad way. And so all Sigewinne can do right now is think about a way to make the both of you come back to your senses. But how? It’s not like either you or Wriothesley are at her beck and call, and will simply meet up just because she asked you so. Despite the emotional agony that you’re going through right now, you’re both way too stubborn for that.

Agony.

Unless…

~

“Where is he?!” Your voice echoes through the hall as you rush into Sigewinne’s infirmary. That was fast, she thinks. 

She almost feels a little bad when she notices the glimmer in your eyes and your laboured breathing. It’s for everyone’s sake, she reminds herself. 

“He should get here soon.” 

“B-But Neuvilette told me-” A poisoned tea. Those were the news that the Iudex had apparently received from one of the Melusines, and forwarded them to you. You don’t know all the details. You left your office as soon as you got to know that Wriothesley was currently unconscious due to a prisoner who had spiked his afternoon tea. 

Now you’re here, but he’s not and it’s making you even more agitated. “Sigewinne, where is he? Is he alright? Are you hiding something from me?”

“Y/n?” At first you feel his hands all over you before you even get to see him. Wriothesley delicately holds your head, turning it left and right before his hands move to your arms and then lower to your own hands. They’re shaking the slightest bit as he holds them up to his lips, pressing sweet kisses along your fingertips. His blood boils and he clenches his jaw at the simple thought of some low lives being the cause of your current state. 

It’s your turn to inspect him from head to toe now. His hair is a mess, all dishevelled while his pale skin makes you fear that he might just topple over any second. Your body moves before you know it, as you push him towards one of the few beds in the infirmary. “Wriothesley, shouldn’t you be in bed? When did you even wake up?” 

Wake… up? 

“Do you know if the potion will have any long term effects on you?” Despite having him right in front of you, obviously well and not on his deathbed, your heart still feels like it is about to burst from your ribcage. As soon as the news had reached you, you dropped everything. Any documents that you had to write and read through, any meetings with clients and other employees of the Palais Mermonia- 

None of them mattered anymore. All of a sudden, everything seemed so insignificant when there was the uncertainty if you’d ever be able to hear Wriothesley’s voice. Hear him sigh in tiredness before humming with the delight at the taste of his freshly brewed tea.

The simple thought of the possibility of him never waking up again, depriving you from the chance to get another glimpse of his breathtaking eyes. It was enough to get your tear ducts working and your eyes pricking as you hurried to see him as soon as possible.

“Archons, you should really lie down. You don’t look-”

Your mouth falls silent, because you can almost hear the screeching sound of the turning clockworks inside Wriothesley’s brain. It ends up worrying you even more. 

He scrutinises you, lets his gaze travel around the room only to notice that you’re alone now. Only you two. No Sigewinne. 

Sigewinne…

“You have not been attacked today, have you?” Deep blue eyes inspect your body again. Just to make sure, even though he more or less knows that all of this has to be a scheme. 

“No one robbed you? No treasure hoarders, right?” 

He watches your eyes widen, brows furrow before you shake your head. Of course. 

Why else would you believe that he’s comatose? Why else would he believe that you’ve been beaten to a pulp, and robbed off your most precious belongings? Why if not because of Sigewinne? 

“What’s wrong?” You ask cautiously, and you notice now too that one person is missing. 

And it’s only when Wriothesley explains to you that, in fact, there has never been tea nor poison, or at least not any kind of combination of those two. He has never been unconscious, and neither have you been hurt. But what did happen was that the both of you have been led on. Deceived.

And that by none other than the head nurse herself. 

“I can’t believe she pulled off something like that. You looked so awful, I actually thought you were sick.”

“Love, that’s because I was worried sick!” Wriothesley exclaims and exhales a huge breath when you bury your face in the crook of his neck. His arms open and instinctively wrap around you, fingers digging into your hips. And it feels good. So, so good because it’s been way too many days since you’ve held each other like this. 

And, god damn, did he miss it. 

A thought crosses his mind. How your last interaction had been a silly argument. Petty remarks and poisonous words spewed at each other, induced by nothing else but your egos. 

All of it is so insignificant now that you both are in each other’s embrace, and that you’re both fine and unharmed. 

So Wriothesley promises himself to apologise to you later, inhale your scent, brush his fingers through your hair all while showing you how much the few days that you have been apart affected him. Because none of those things should be taken for granted. Because another day with you is not promised but his love for you is.

But first. You both have a bone to pick with a certain Melusine. 

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ 'make me' with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is very suggestive lmao

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: this is a repost from my old blog! so if you feel like you've read this before, that's why :)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

“Make you? Make you do what?” yes, he will play dumb to ‘make you’ use your words and elaborate.

Doesn’t do anything and acts oblivious until you actually say it, no matter how much he wants to.

Acts bubbly and normal like nothing even happened, laughing away without a care in the world while watching tiktoks or something. Unbothered.

The moment you do speak, something inside him snaps and he’s got you backed against a wall in moments, talking lowly over your lips while caressing your face.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

Oh, he will. No matter the context or where you are, Minho will take your words as a challenge and do anything in his power to make you regret ever doubting him.

Gives you this specific look that makes you go weak in the knees, raising a single eyebrow before beckoning you closer.

Will whisper in your ear, giving you one more chance to back down while softly playing with a strand of your hair.

If you don’t do as he says, he will start whispering the dirtiest stuff with the straightest face, being content with just flustering you until you get home and he can finally ‘make you’.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Forget about teasing and playing dumb, Changbin will ‘make you’ instantly. He doesn’t play around.

Will also back you up against the nearest surface and cup your face, resting his forehead on yours with a smirk on his face.

He feels so smug and cocky when he sees you get shy and regret your words that he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing.

The power imbalance the moment provides feeds his ego so don’t expect to get away with this scot-free. Changbin will punish you thoroughly.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

Raises an eyebrow and just…stares at you, blinking. Looks so unphased that you actually think he didn’t hear you at first.

But he did, and the moment you repeat yourself, he stands up to tower over you, fisting some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail to bring your face closer to his.

Licks his lips just to torture you a little more before finally pressing them to yours for a needy kiss, the soft action a straight contrast from the hold he still had on your hair.

When he pulls away, he repeats the words that got such an answer from you and expects you to finally listen, eyes sharp without any hint of playfulness in them.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Turns red instantly and his brain kind of short-circuits because he wasn’t really expecting that.

If this was said in the heat of the moment during an argument, all of the anger will leave his body and he will just…stand there, flustered.

His mind will be racing with all of the things he wants to do to you, some innocent, others not so much while he looks at you, licking his lips.

Jisung will be tongue-tied, wanting to say too many things at once so you have to be the one pulling him from his trance if you want something to happen.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

Felix will get the biggest smirk on his face, I swear. These are two of his favorite words after all.

He will make you do things you’ve never even dreamt of doing so be careful what you wish for.

Takes a hold of your hand and draws you closer until you’re a breath away, placing a sweet peck on your lips that somehow leaves you dizzy and desperate for more.

Then, his voice drops and you feel the vibration in your bones as he speaks. “Make you do what exactly? Tell me, in detail.”

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Oh, you want him to make you shut up? Say no more.

Will get up and actually go through all the trouble of getting a paper towel and shoving it in your mouth Minho style (I AM SO SORRY KSJDGNDF BUT HE WOULD)

That is if he isn’t in the mood to play your games. If he is, however, things would be completely different.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You might end up regretting it.”

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

A tease from beginning to end. He won’t take you seriously at all I’m afraid.

Might even laugh in your face before making himself more comfortable in his seat, (man)spreading his legs before beckoning you closer with a single finger, amused.

Wants you to entertain him and if you don’t, he will ‘make you’.

Will place you in his lap and use his words to fluster you beyond belief, his fingertips ghosting over your skin sending shivers down your spine.

[angelwhisp3rs]

✧˚ · . 7 minutes in heaven

Pairing: RE2!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Leon gave his girlfriend the best gift ever - his virginity ❤

Tags: Smut; fluff; p in v; oral (f); loss of virginity; leon is desperate; they are in love your honor

Notes: IM BAAAAAACK! Had to take a week off to focus on my studies, but now im free! Was supposed to post this earlier, but i got lazy!

Minors do not interact!!

After dating for quite a while, it was visible that Leon was a great boyfriend, he was confident in everything he did, he paid attention to the little details and was always surprising her. That’s why, on her birthday, he decided to give her something much more special - his virginity.

At first, it was weird talking about it, he was a grown adult, with a job and everything, and he still had his v-card intact. He was so focused on his career that things like that never really mattered to him. That’s until she came along, and he knew that he wanted to share something so personal with her, and only her.

Setting the mood, he woke her up with a nice bouquet of her favorite flowers and a warm breakfast, the meal eaten while they shared sweet kisses and sweet nothings. He hated that both needed to go to work, the day passing slower in his mind since he was anxious for the night.

When the night fell, both felt giddy - Leon because he was finally getting a taste of sex - something his colleagues always boasted about - and her because the man was making her day so perfect, she had no idea how it could get any better.

At dinner, she noticed him more fidgety, as if he had something on his mind. At first, Leon wanted to play it cool, being a gentleman and serving her for the entire night, but the moment he saw her red inviting dress, his dick decided that he wanted to do the thinking, not his actual head. The slit on her dress showed her soft thighs, and he could only wonder how good they would feel wrapped around his head as he fucked her with his ton-gosh, he needed to focus.

“Baby, you seem worried. Is something the matter?” She quietly asked him, worried that something might have happened.

“No, it's fine, love. Just thinking how pretty you look” he half lied, smiling sincerely at her as he caressed her hand, looking completely smitten by the woman sitting in front of him.

She blushed at his comment, he was always an expert in making her feel so loved.

For now, she chose to drop the matter, just wanting to enjoy the evening with him.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Dinner was amazing, the food was spot on. They walked around a park nearby, enjoying the flowers falling and making the scenery movie-like. They talked and laughed, now filling their hearts after filling their stomach.

As they headed home, Leon felt his heartbeat quickening, but took deep breaths- the night wasn't over yet.

He softly guided her near him, wrapping his arms around her as they shared a deep and passionate kiss, moving his hands all over her body and tightening his grip around her hips.

“Love, want to go to our bedroom? Don't want this night to finish yet” he whispered against her lips, their saliva making everything more wet and intimate.

She looked surprised at him, since she knew from the beginning that he was still a virgin, and was always supportive and patient with the man, never wanting to rush things. The woman nodded, being guided to their room as they still didn't break their hold and deep kisses.

Feeling a rush, Leon pushed her into their bed making her yelp a bit, earning a sorry look from him. God, she was not a ragdoll Leon, stop thinking about porn!

“Baby, we don't need to do this, you know that, right?” She asked him with a smile, watching as he moved to hover her body

“Really want to… I’ll be good to you, baby” he whispered as he pressed kisses to her neck, clumsily pushing her dress up

If it wasn’t such an intimate moment, she would’ve laughed as he tried to push her dress out without even realizing that it had a zipper on the back. Ending his misery, she gently pulled him back and zipped the clothing down, laying on their bed in her black underwear (thank god she decided to wear matching ones today!).

Like a poor and desperate horny boy, the first thing he did was press his face against her tits, wanting to suffocate himself on her chest. She giggled at his eagerness, watching as he mouthed and pressed open mouthed kisses on her cleavage, as his hands kneaded them. 

Not waiting anymore, his hands traveled to her back, reaching her bra clasp. He grunted in dissatisfaction as that task proved to be harder than it looked - god, are those things indestructible? Once again, pitying him, she simply reached back and undid her bra in a swift moment, making Leon look at her dumb founded “How the fuck did you do that?”

“Practice” she giggled “you’ll get to be as good as I am the more you do it”, and then gave him a wink

He chuckled, but turned his focus back to the task at hand, and threw her bra somewhere along their room (he genuinely had no idea where it went). He tried not to be a creep, but he couldn’t help but stare at her boobs for a long time, only breaking the spell when she giggled at his hungry eyes. Her chest on show, his mouth worked directly on her nipples, sucking and wetting awkwardly. The man was just too eager to try to get a taste of her, and the soft feeling of her buds on his tongue made his hips twitch, desperate from any friction.

Even if it was messy, she could only moan and tug his hair in pleasure - even if uncoordinated, his tongue felt so delicious, her cunt gathering arousal quickly. “F-fuck, baby… more” she moaned as her hands didnt leave his blonde locks.

He was completely in ecstasy as he heard her needy voice, nodding as he kissed his way down her body, playing with the lace on her underwear. He softly kissed the fabric and pulled it down, almost ripping it because of how excited he was. He looked at her wet cunt and gaped, as if he was seeing paradise for the first time.Quickly, he fumbled as he removed his shirt, opening his belt and laying on his front, putting her legs on his shoulders.

What now?

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Well, Leon had to think of every porn he has ever watched - not that those were accurate and all, but he could at least mimic the movements. But as he watched her wet cunt throb, everything flew away from his mind, he just craved her, and her taste. Before she could say anything, his face moved forward and he licked her clit wantonly - he wasn't even timid about it, his tongue was firm and sure, making her body arch from the bed, her gentle hands moving down to tug his hair.

“Fuck, Leon!” she whined, sensitive from his eager muscle moving against her bundle of nerves

“Wanna make you feel good, baby… need you to drench my face” he said in muffled words, as he still ate her out, his hands holding her hips and thighs tightly.

The only thing guiding Leon was her reactions at where his tongue passed, her moans getting especially louder when he rolled and sucked the little button above her cunt lips, so he kept his work there. If Leon died now, he would die as a happy man. Her pussy tasted sweeter than his favorite candy, and the wet sounds caused by the suctioning sounded so, so sinful, he just couldn’t stop. 

He was so focused on the sensation that he didn’t even realize when her legs started shaking around him and the grip on his hair grew tighter. “B-baby, G-gonna cum!” she moaned desperately, looking down at him and biting her lips, her cheeks being fully flushed.

“Please, cum on my tongue, need it, need to taste it…” he rambled as he sucked and rolled his tongue viciously, his rough hands holding her hips down, not letting her squirm away from his grasp. 

Soon, she saw fireworks and exploded against his mouth - of course that man made a woman cum on his first time, he was Leon S. Kennedy after all. She laid shaking on the bed, pushing his head away and closing her legs for the moment, as Leon had to lower his pants and underwear, watching her explode almost made him cum in his pants, he needed to feel her now.

He gently parted her legs again, his hands caressing and feeling up her body as he was addicted to the feeling of her skin, as they shared soft kisses. When they felt she was ready, he slowly rubbed his head against her entrance and clit, making both moan - Leon  had to think about very disgusting things, otherwise he would cum like a horny teen and he wouldn’t even be inside her. 

“Are you ready, baby? We can back down if you want to” she assured him once again, caressing his face lovingly as both looked at each other with a shared and intense passion. 

He shook his head, smiling and kissing her forehead “love, I adore when you are sweet, but I need to fuck your brains out or i’ll go insane” he chuckled, and his hand guided just his tip in.

Just the tip, and she swallowed him with vigor, making Leon let out a choked out moan. It was only the head, and yet, he felt his cock throbbing and twitching, he really needed to hold back, otherwise this would end sooner than he would’ve liked.

Slowly, his entire shaft was inside her, and Leon swore he was seeing stars, just like those old cartoons. Holy shit, is that what sex was like? Now he gets it. He should call off work this week and spend with her in bed, fucking and working up his stamina.

“You can move, baby” she whined impatiently. God dammit, woman, mind your tone! If she kept talking to him like that, he would absolutely blow in his first thrust.

He nodded and began moving, and if he wasn’t hitting that gummy spot, she would be laughing, the sight adorable - his face was red as if he was holding his breath, and his mouth was hanging open as he watched his cock slide in and out, getting creamier and creamier with her cunt juices.

Wrapping her legs around him, she pulled the man into a kiss, making his knees buckle and his hips move in a grinding motion, his hair ticking her puffy pussy as their moans were drowned in their kisses. Her nails scratched his back, being enough to create red lines but not really hurt him. 

While both were losing their minds, the only sounds in the room were loud moans, some bed rattling and their skin slapping. His hips - thankfully - met a more pleasurable rhythm, not too fast or slow. Enough to make him feel his cock on her cunt, while she felt her wet pussy molding into his dick.

“Fuuuuck, can’t hold it, can’t hold it” he moaned in almost unintelligible moans, holding their hands together as his hips started to falter and her thighs went more rigid as the pleasure waves flowed through them.

“Come inside, baby, mark me, let it all go” she said aiding him

Soon, like her words casted a spell on him, he filled her up as her walls closed on him, thankfully cuming together. Both laid there regaining their breaths, Leon resting his head right against her heart beat - the best song he has ever heard. She guided him for another gentle kiss, both smiling like idiots in satisfaction.

Leon was a full man now! And he didn't even embarrass himself, knowing he made her come and fucked her properly! He looked at the wall on the nightstand to verify how long he managed to go and… wait, what the fuck? Only seven minutes? No, no, he needed to do better! 

Pulling him away from his paranoia, she looked at him with heart eyes and whispered “That was the best birthday ever. Thank you for making all of this special. it was perfect”

For the first time in the night, he blushed and nuzzled into her neck, whispering back “It really was. Couldn’t imagine doing this without you. Thank you for being so patient and staying”

“Would wait forever if it meant being with you” she simply answered, making his heart soar.

Leon was fine with the seven minutes now, after all, they had a lifetime to make up for it.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

💝 twst 2024 valentine gift message compilation 🎁

Yes, it’s that time of year again—

For preliminary information on what this is, please check out this post!

This year’s messages came printed on a coffin-shaped piece of paper. (The back of it is shown in the image above.)

The common theme underlying all of the messages is that the sender (you!) gifted the character a fragrance.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

Riddle

My dear friend—

Thank you for your gift.

I’m not an expert, but I once read

that this type of thing can help with

relaxation. I’ll certainly try it out

soon. I’ll make you herbal tea

sometime as a token of my

gratitude.

Trey

Hello, friend—

Thank you for the lovely gift. I’ve

been busy lately, so it’s nice to have

something to help me relax. You’re

always going the extra mile for

everyone around you. I’ll bring some

homemade sweets over soon to say

thanks, okay?

Cater

Eeey, friendo!

Thanks for the totes ‘Cammable

gift! It looks nice, AND it’s got a

fragrance that’s right up Cay-Cay’s

alley. I’m super excited for the

gift-back, and hope you are, too!

I’m gonna get you something you’ll

be amped to post about on

Magicam.

Ace

Heya, pal—

I never thought you’d get me

something so fancy! It’s got just the

kind of scent I like. You’ve got

perfect taste. I’m gonna use it

soon—thanks! As for what to give

you in return, well… Got any

requests? Just don’t go too

overboard.

Deuce

My good friend—

Thanks for the gift! I didn’t think

it’d be something so fancy. You’ve

got a good eye for this stuff, Prefect!

It’s nice having a fresh scent in my

room to help me focus when I’m

studying! Wait until you see what

grade I get on my next test.

Leona

Hey—

Allow me to thank you for your

generous gift. Heh. Can’t believe

you actually picked out a halfway

decent fragrance. I might actually

keep this. I thought about sending

you something in return if the mood

struck me, but this thank-you note

should do the job just fine, right?

Ruggie

Hey—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t buy

things that aren’t absolute

necessities, so it’s nice getting

something like this. Don’t get me

wrong, though. I’m REALLY not

picky when it comes to people

giving me presents, so feel free to

keep giving me whatever you like!

Jack

Hi.

Thanks for the gift.

This is the kind of subtle fragrance I

can see myself using. I don’t like

being indebted to others, so I’ll

think of something to send in return

so we’re even. Don’t expect too

much. Just sit tight.

Azul

My boon companion—

Thank you for your wonderful gift.

You have quite the eye for quality

and chose a fine fragrance. That

said, I prefer not to accept gifts

without providing anything in

return. Expect something from me

of equivalent value soon.

Jade

My dear friend—

Thank you for your lovely present.

Did you know that morays have

keen senses of smell? I’ll quite enjoy

this. I’d like to treat you to a drink

at the Mostro Lounge in return.

What do you say?

Floyd

Dear Little Shrimpy—

What a neat choice for a present.

Did you pick out this scent ‘cause it

reminded you of me? Kinds funny if

this is the vibe I give you. I guess I’ll

use it if I feel like it. No promises.

Kalim

To my dear friend—

Thanks for the gift. You picked this

fragrance out for me, right? I’m

flattered! Ooh, I know. Next time

you’re in a gift-giving mood, you

could take me shopping to help pick

it out! The more the merrier, right?

Then again, that might defeat the

purpose of the gift… But let’s not

sweat the details!

Jamil

Hello—

I was surprised enough just to

receive a gift from you, but a

fragrance? You never fail to surprise.

It couldn’t have been easy selecting

this. I’ll have to gift you something

appropriate in return.

Vil

Dearest friend—

Thank you for your gift. It was a

rather thoughtful choice; I can use

this when I’m doing stretches. What

would you like in return, I wonder?

You’re getting something

hand-picked by me, so I’ve no doubt

you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Rook

Bonjour—

And merci boucoup! Did you

choose this just for me? I’m

delighted. The design is so lovely

and elegant. I normally avoid using

fragrances unless it’s a special

occasion, in which case I shall

happily wear one—the one you gave

me, of course.

Epel

Dear classmate—

Thanks for the gift! I don’t know

much about fragrances, but this

one’s mighty fine! It makes my

dorm room feel a smidge more

fancy. I’d better get you something

nice in return. It’s kinds fun

thinking up ideas for that.

Idia

@YOU

uh, are u saying I stink? is this like

a passive-aggressive gesture or sth?

I have questions, but since u gave

it to me, I gratefully accept. I

don’t pay much attention to

fragrances, but this one smelled pretty.

dece when I gave it a whiff.

Ortho

Hello, Prefect—

Thank you for the gift! It’s a

fragrance, right? So this is how you

perceive me. That’s fascinating! I’m

about to do a thorough analysis of

its composition. Who knows? I

might discover something neat. Let

me know what fragrances you’re

into sometime!

Malleus

To my good friend—

Thank you for the gift. Hmm…

This fragrance is meant for pleasure

and relaxation? What a tasteful

choice. I rather like it; perhaps I

shall take more of an interest in

these things. You would be welcome

to pay me a visit, by the way, should

you feel so inclined. I would enjoy

sharing an old tale or two.

Lilia

Greetings!

Thank you for picking something

out for me. It’s a rather nice gift.

Immersing myself in an unusual

fragrance reminds me of my days

visiting other lands. I know! I

should cook for you some foreign

cuisine as a token of gratitude! I can

hardly wait.

Silver

Salutations—

Thank you for your gift. This smell

is so nice and relaxing, it makes me

want to nod off. I hope tjis

improves the quality of my sleep

and helps me want to wake up sooner

when my alarm clock goes off. I’ll let

you know how it goes. Hopefully

well.

Sebek

Human—

I’ve received your gift. Fragrances

are a part of one’s personal

grooming, and you had the nerve to

gift one to ME?! Challenge

accepted. I’ll come up with the

perfect thing to return the

sentiment. You’re going to get

what’s coming to you—mark my

words!

Crowley

Dear esteemed student—

I was quite taken aback when an

unexpected package arrived in the

headmage’s office! To think you

would send me something so

thoughtful… Hmm. This fragrance

suits my tastes nicely. Normally I

wouldn’t be able to accept personal

gifts, but I think I’ll make an

exception for this, seeing as I’m

kind.

Crewel

Dear pup—

What is this? Giving personal gifts

to teachers is hardly good pup

behavior. But the moment I opened

the wrapping, I could tell you

picked this out for me. The design is

suitable enough, as is the fragrance

itself. I suppose I must commend

your knack for gift-giving. Good

boy.

Trein

Dear juvenile—

I generally decline gifts from

students, but you clearly chose this

scent out of respect for me. I won’t

use it around Lucius, but it might

be nice to use in the staff room

every once in a while. I gratefully

accept.

Vargas

Dear student—

What is this? Did I give you

a homework assignment that involved

getting me a present? Kidding, of

course. This is the perfect scent for a

guy as cool as me! I’ll teach you how

to make my signature Vargas

protein drink in return!

Sam

Heya, my little imp!

What is up? Did you pick this out

just for me? It’s a fantastic scent,

thanks! If you’re interested in this

type of thing, I happen to have a

fine selection in stock, so swing by

whenever you want! I’m looking

forward to your next visit.

Grim

Dear minion—

Mrah?! I was expecting tuna, but

instead I get some weird thing

called a fragrance? What IS this

thing? I woulda taken tuna in a

heartbeat, but since my

hench-human picked this out for

me, I guess a proper boss would put

it to good use. Be grateful for my

kindness, partner!

[baelarys]

req!!

jealous aemond at their twin daughters or their other child nameday…when the reader be ask dancing with some lord. And BAM jealous husband moments…

𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨

Aemond targaryen x reader velaryon ¡Niece!

Word count: 3222

Warninig: Jealousy, fluff

Pt1,pt2 & pt3(I will continue with this dynamic until I die or you get tired hahaha because I love this little family, don't be shy and make more requests for whatever you want!)

Everything had to look impeccable, perfect like in a fairy tale, and you had worked hard to make sure it was so. The castle halls and gardens had been adorned with millions of flowers, each one carefully selected to harmonize with the colorful and majestic tapestries hanging from the stone walls. The servants had worked tirelessly under your watchful supervision, ensuring that not a single detail was out of place.

You had eagerly awaited this day, your princesses' name day, an event that brought together the most powerful Lords and Ladies of Westeros. The sun shone high in the sky, blessing the celebration with its warm light, while the tables in the gardens filled with delicate dishes and golden cups of wine.

You stood by the grand doors of the hall, attentively watching as the guests arrived. Elegant laughter and lively conversations filled the air as ladies in silk and brocade dresses gracefully paraded, followed by knights whose armor gleamed in the sun. The banners of the great houses fluttered proudly in the wind, each a reminder of the nobility and power gathered at your celebration. Every courteous gesture, every measured smile, and respectful bow reflected the harmony you had worked so hard to achieve.

Your daughters, Vaera and Vaerys, were the very image of joy and youthful pride. Clad in matching dresses, their golden hair crowned with flower garlands gleamed under the light. They walked confidently through the hall and gardens, their small steps filled with enthusiasm and curiosity, as if they were truly the mistresses of the place. The laughter of both mingled with the soft music accompanying the event, as they played carefree among the guests, who were quick to praise their charm and beauty. The attention they received pleased them immensely, their childish smiles lighting up every corner they passed.

Aerion, on the other hand, did not share his sisters' festive spirit. Since waking up, he seemed to carry a cloud of discontent that darkened his little face. He had not left your side all day, and his irritability became evident whenever you tried to step away for even a few minutes. As soon as you were out of sight, his cries echoed through the halls, a constant reminder of his foul mood. Your attempts to soothe him with sweet words and caresses seemed to have only a temporary effect, as any interruption of your presence turned him into an inconsolable baby.

The hour of the banquet had finally arrived, and you found yourself seated next to Aemond, who, despite his well-known aversion to such events, wore an expression of patient resignation, trying his best to appear comfortable in the midst of the celebration. The great hall was filled, with the royal family occupying the seats of honor. To your right, Queen Alicent exchanged solemn glances with her children, while your mother and grandmother, Rhaenys, and the Velaryons sat at the main table alongside your maternal relatives. The torches illuminated the room, casting golden reflections on the goblets and platters overflowing with delicacies.

You, for your part, tried to remain present, though your attention was divided between the banqueting bustle and Aerion’s persistent restlessness, still nestled in your lap. With gentle movements, you stroked his golden hair, trying to soothe him as the little one emitted soft sighs of exhaustion. It was a fragile, temporary comfort, as if at any moment the child's bad mood might resurface.

Suddenly, an unsettling feeling crept over you, as if a burning gaze was resting on your skin, piercing through the warm atmosphere of the hall. At first, you thought it was Aemond, watching you as he often did when he thought you wouldn’t notice. You turned your head slightly, expecting to find his one eye fixed on you, but to your surprise, he was engrossed in a whispered conversation with his mother, Queen Alicent. Their words were barely audible, but his concentration seemed complete.

Confused, you glanced away, discreetly searching the nearby faces. That’s when you saw him. It wasn’t Aemond watching you so intently, but Lord Donald Tarly, whose position at the table gave him a clear view of you. His penetrating green eyes were fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and something more—something difficult to decipher from across the distance. It was a gaze laden with intentions you couldn’t interpret at that moment but which undoubtedly made you uncomfortable.

The lord, heir to one of the oldest and most respected houses of the Reach, had only recently arrived at court after several campaigns on the western border. His reputation as a formidable warrior and strategist preceded him, and although his public demeanor had been impeccable, that insistent scrutiny from the other side of the room made you feel vulnerable.

Instinctively, you adjusted Aerion's position in your lap, using the movement to divert your gaze and cover up by appearing focused on your child. However, the discomfort remained. Lord Tarly's gaze was unyielding, as if he was waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

Aemond, despite his apparent detachment from the surroundings, noticed the change in your posture. "Is everything alright?" he murmured, his deep voice barely a whisper as he leaned closer to you, his expression unchanging. There was no need to explain the situation to him; his keen perception seemed to have sensed your discomfort even before you fully understood it yourself.

The banquet continued, with the atmosphere growing denser and more charged as the food came in endless trays of roasted meats, golden breads, and fragrant sweets. However, your attention was far from the feast. Aerion, still in your arms, was beginning to fidget, his heavy eyelids struggling against the sleep that wouldn’t quite come. His sisters, not far off, had started to sway in their seats, their eyes heavy with sleep after a day of games and excitement.

With a gentle gesture, you leaned toward Aemond. "I think it's time to put the children to bed," you whispered, watching as Aerion nestled closer to you, seeking the warmth of your body. Aemond nodded slightly, a sign of approval that needed no further words. With one last look at the hall, you carefully stood up, holding Aerion in your arms while summoning one of the maids to help with the girls.

You left the hall, leaving behind the growing clamor of the evening. The sounds of laughter and animated conversations were muffled as you walked away, and the echo of your footsteps resonated in the wide corridors. The torches illuminated your path as the girls, tired but obedient, followed closely.

You finally reached the children's rooms, where the maids had already prepared their beds. Gently, you placed Aerion in his crib, caressing his forehead with a tenderness only a mother could offer. His eyes, now almost closed, sought yours for a brief moment before surrendering to sleep. The girls, between whispers and soft giggles, were guided to their beds by the maids, who soon dimmed the lights and left them to their dreams.

Once you ensured that everyone was peacefully asleep, you paused for a moment to watch them. Aerion breathed calmly, and his sisters, wrapped in their blankets, looked as innocent and peaceful as the day they were born. You sighed, letting go of some of the tension you had accumulated throughout the night.

When you returned to the great hall, the atmosphere had changed dramatically. The festivities had evolved, shedding the formalities that marked the ceremonial dinners. Now, laughter was louder, wine glasses were raised more frequently, and the sound of music blended with the clinking of glasses and the rhythmic footsteps on the marble floor.

The center of the hall was cleared, turned into an improvised dance floor. Pairs of nobles, some visibly affected by wine, spun and laughed, their garments shining under the torchlight. The music, once soft, had come to life, with violins and lutes setting a livelier rhythm, suited for the occasion. The younger guests, those who stayed away from the stern gazes of the older ones, seemed to embrace the celebration with a freedom you had not seen earlier in the evening.

Determined to return to your seat next to Aemond, you maneuvered around the edges of the dance floor, avoiding the couples spinning and laughing in their intoxication. The hall vibrated with the lively music of the lutes and violins, and the atmosphere, filled with wine and laughter, seemed to intensify by the second.

However, just before reaching your destination, an unexpected obstacle appeared before you. As you looked up, you came face to face with Lord Donald Tarly. His smile was wide, and the warmth with which he regarded you suggested more than mere courtesy. His eyes roamed your face with a familiarity that made you uncomfortable, but there was no way to avoid the encounter without appearing rude.

"My lady," he greeted with a courteous bow, though his tone held a confidence that bordered on insolence. "It would be an honor to invite you to dance."

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the urge to decline his offer to avoid stirring Aemond’s displeasure. However, given the public nature of the event and the presence of nobles and allies, you decided to maintain appearances. After all, it was just a dance, and courtesy dictated that you should not refuse without a clear reason.

"Of course, Lord Tarly," you replied with a nod, taking his hand when he offered it. You knew Aemond wouldn’t be pleased, but you trusted he would understand; after all, some formalities were unavoidable in court.

Lord Tarly’s fingers gently closed around yours as he guided you to the dance floor. The music continued to resonate, and the violins began a softer melody, fitting for a quiet conversation. As you started to move to the rhythm, Lord Tarly broke the silence.

“It’s an honor to dance with you tonight, my lady. I must confess I’ve been looking forward to this moment since I arrived at the banquet,” he said, his tone kind but with a hint of flirtation.

You managed a courteous smile. “It’s a pleasure, Lord Tarly. I hope you’ve enjoyed the festivities.”

“I would enjoy it more if every night included the privilege of your company,” he replied without losing composure. You could feel his gaze examining you with interest, and you decided not to respond to that.

However, as the dance continued, you found yourself laughing at one of Lord Tarly’s anecdotes. Despite your initial reservations, the conversation turned out to be more pleasant than you had anticipated. His humor was subtle, and his ability to keep the conversation flowing made time pass quickly.

But then, as you gently twirled to the music, you felt a shiver run down your spine. It was as if an invisible force compelled you to look across the room. Raising your gaze, you met Aemond’s eyes on the other side of the hall. He was seated, his posture rigid, his expression grave. The tension in his jaw was evident, and though he hadn’t said a word, his gaze conveyed everything you needed to know. Aemond’s lips barely moved, but the fire in his eyes indicated that the scene before him displeased him greatly.

Your heart skipped a beat. Aemond was not known for his patience when it came to you, especially when someone else showed interest in your attention. His gaze was a mix of jealousy and barely concealed anger, and you could see how his fingers tightened around the goblet he held, as if trying to contain himself.

“Are you alright, princess?” Lord Tarly’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You forced a smile, though your attention was no longer fully on the conversation. “Yes, of course. Just a bit distracted.”

“I see that Prince Aemond is watching you quite intently,” Tarly remarked with a barely perceptible smile. “I hope I’m not causing any misunderstandings.”

You tried to laugh lightly, though you knew the situation was becoming more tense. “No, of course not. Aemond is… very protective, that’s all.”

“Protective?” Lord Tarly’s smile widened a little. “I can’t blame him. There’s certainly much to protect.”

You felt uncomfortable at the double meaning in his words, and as the music began to slow down, you decided it was time to end the dance. “It has been a pleasure, Lord Tarly, but I think I should return to my husband.”

You stepped away gracefully, determined to return to Aemond. When you sat next to him, you hoped he would break the silence, but he did not. He didn’t even look at you. His jaw was tight, and the jealous glint in his single eye was unmistakable, though he made no effort to conceal it.

Frustrated, you took his hand in yours, trying to smooth over the situation. However, his rigidity remained. “Do whatever you want,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of irritation and exasperation.

You hoped for a reaction, a word, something that indicated he was willing to discuss the issue, but Aemond simply continued to stare ahead, his silence more stubborn than ever. You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to keep pressing the issue. You had no intention of arguing over something so trivial. Not here, not now, and certainly not over a minor courtly dance.

His jealousy seemed, at that moment, rather childish. You stood up firmly, adjusting your dress with a decisive gesture. There was no reason to prolong the discomfort of the situation, especially not in public. You decided that it was best to retreat to your room. If Aemond wanted to maintain that absurd attitude, you would not waste your energy discussing it at a banquet full of onlookers. Not for something so insignificant.

Aemond did not stop you, which irritated you even more. Without looking back, you left the hall. As you made your way through the torch-lit corridors, you felt the tension in your shoulders beginning to ease slightly. You repeated to yourself that distance would do you both good and that tomorrow, things would surely look clearer.

You reached your room, closing the door softly behind you, though more decisively than you had intended. Silence greeted you, and the tranquility you had longed for during the hectic night began to settle. You removed your jewelry with methodical movements, letting your thoughts drift away from the previous scene.

But the echo of your thoughts was soon interrupted when you heard the door open with an almost imperceptible sound. There was no need to turn around to know who it was. Aemond.

You turned slowly, finding him in the doorway, his expression a mix of wounded pride and barely contained regret. There was no need for immediate words; his presence said it all. He couldn't bear the idea of letting you go like this, just like that. And although he was a man who rarely apologized openly, you knew that his way of following you was, in itself, an acknowledgment that he had let jealousy overpower him.

"Are you going to say something?" you asked, keeping your gaze fixed on him. Your tone, though controlled, had enough acidity for him to know you weren't willing to let the matter pass easily.

Aemond stopped a few steps away from you, his gaze locked with yours, but the silence continued to fill the space between you both. He seemed to be torn between his pride and the desire to make things right, a tug-of-war that you knew all too well in him.

"What do you want me to say?" he finally murmured, his voice low but charged with barely disguised tension. "That I didn't care to see another man approaching you as if he had any right? That I should have stood idly by while he looked at you that way?"

You sighed, crossing your arms in front of you. "Aemond, it was a simple dance. Nothing more. You can't react like this every time someone speaks to me. This isn’t the battlefield, and not everyone is an enemy."

"A simple dance?" he retorted, taking another step toward you, his eyebrow raised. "I saw what I saw, and it wasn't just a dance. That man has no idea what respect means, and I'm not going to tolerate anyone even thinking they can..." He stopped, his words hanging in the air as he struggled to contain the rising heat of his temper.

"Can what?" you challenged, shaking your head, frustrated. "What do you think is going to happen, Aemond? That I’ll leave you for Lord Tarly? For a man I barely know and, to be honest, means absolutely nothing to me? You can’t keep acting as if any interaction is a threat to you."

For a moment, his eyes showed something more than jealousy: there was insecurity in his gaze, a shadow that he rarely revealed. You knew it wasn’t just a matter of wounded pride; there was something deeper affecting him.

"I can’t stand the idea..." he started to say, his voice softer now, almost broken, "that someone else might even imagine having your attention, your closeness. I’m a man of war, but with you... I don’t know how to handle this."

The echo of his words hit you hard, disarming any defenses you had built. Aemond, however fierce he was with people or in court, found himself lost when it came to expressing what he felt for you.

The echo of his words hit you hard, disarming any defenses you had built. Aemond, however fierce he was with people or in court, found himself lost when it came to expressing what he felt for you.

You looked at him for a moment, letting your shoulders drop, tired of the argument and knowing that despite everything, there was some truth in his fears. "You don’t have to handle anything. I’m not going anywhere, Aemond. I’m here, with you."

There was a silence loaded with emotion before he took the final step toward you, closing the space between you both. His hand slowly rose to your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a tenderness that always surprised you in someone like him. "I’m sorry," he murmured, almost in a whisper, his gaze searching yours.

Before you could respond, his lips met yours in a kiss that, although starting softly, soon grew more intense, filled with a mixture of regret and need. Your hands clung to his clothes, responding with equal fervor, allowing the tension that had filled the space between you both to dissolve in that intimate moment.

When he pulled away, just a few inches, his eyes shone with a silent promise. "It won’t happen again," he assured, his forehead resting against yours. And in that moment, you knew that, as complicated as the emotions you shared were, you would always find your way back to each other.

[fangswbenefits]

Tracking

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Breeding kink. Period talk. Miguel going all scientific and keeping track of fertility windows for maximum efficacy. Dry humping. Inspired by this ask.

Miguel was in a bad mood that afternoon. You could see it coming a mile off, because having spent that much time around him over the past years had revealed many warning signs.

The circular platform was lowered all the way down to the floor by the time you walked past the door.

Miguel not turning to acknowledge your presence was warning sign number one.

You strode up to it warily, as if expecting him to explode at any given moment. Trying to lighten the mood, you tip toed to place a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He grumbled in response.

Warning sign number two.

His eyes were fixed on the multiple of screen sprawled in a half-moon in front of him, occasionally tapping and moving them around when needed.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you teased.

“I’m nearly done here.”

“Hello to you, too, grumpy,” you nudged his arm with a smile.

Miguel merely nodded.

Warning sign number three.

At this point, you figured something was definitely going on.

“What’s up?”

“Hmm?”

You sighed. “You look and sound off.”

He tapped on a screen to his left. “You’re on your period.”

“What?”

Usually, that sort of remark would earn any man a slap at worst or a ‘fuck you’ at best. There was no shortage of men who would use women’s hormones as an easy way to deflect their feelings.

But there was something in Miguel’s tone that resembled… disappointment?

He scowled deeply, turning to face you. “You’re not pregnant.”

You stared at him for a long time, before bursting into laughter. “Is that why you’re all grumpy?”

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening.

You stopped at once. “Wait… how would you know that?”

He returned his attention to the hovering screens in front of him. “Know what?”

“That I’m on my period?” you asked, suspicion rising inside you. “And I still haven’t gotten it, by the way.”

And just like that, Miguel’s crimson eyes were on you expectantly. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

You folded your arms while tapping your foot lightly. “No. You answer me first.”

Miguel knew better than to antagonise you, especially now that you had information that interested him.

Dragging his index finger across the panel, you saw a file pop up with your name. That didn’t seem odd at all. Every spider in Nueva York was required to have one that displayed several strategic details as well as bio data that was fed by the dimensional travel watch. Your heart rate was at a steady 67 beats per minute.

“What about it?”

He tapped on a second tab that read ‘Fertility’.

Nothing could have prepared you for the influx of information you were about to be bombarded with.

And what it concerned.

July 4th

Cycle day 1 - low chance of pregnancy

Fertility window - 12 to 18

Ovulation day - 17 (high chances of pregnancy)

“You’re tracking my period?!” you snapped in utter disbelief.

“I’m tracking your fertility window.”

You glared at him. “How is that any different?”

“It’s not. Just nomenclature,” he shrugged casually as if talking about the change of weather outside.

You shot Miguel a death glare, before shoving him to the side, gaining full access to the flickering orange screen. The data collected went back as far as three months ago.

Miguel had been tracking your fertility window for months now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shifted to stand behind you, easily towering with his impressive height. “It’s my responsibility to get you pregnant.”

Your eyes widened partially in disbelief, but mostly at the realisation that this shouldn’t be a shocking revelation.

Miguel had to be in control at all times. It was embedded in his genetic code. A few months ago you had casually joked that you wouldn’t mind having a child soon.

It seemed that it was all the motivation he needed to begin his quest.

Now it made perfect sense why he had been so insistent on always cumming inside you. You just didn’t think he would be this dedicated.

Joke’s on you.

“But it seems the data is wrong,” he said lowly, arms circling around you to have his hands atop yours on the keyboard. “You can edit it,” he whispered, pressing himself fully against you.

The added pressure pushed your lower half gently against the control table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“Are you trying to seduce me, so I ignore all of this?” you whispered, enjoying how the proximity was having a noticeable effect on his cock.

He rolled against you slowly. “Me? Of course not.”

His fingers intertwined with yours, and you watched your heart rate on the screen soar to 78 beats per minutes.

You fought back a whimper, as he was nipping at your neck, fangs lightly poking at sensitive skin. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively, you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

90 beats per minute.

“Let me get a blood sample so I can test out,” he said, his erection pressed against your ass.

“Someone really wants to be a dad,” you said with a teasing smile.

99 beats per minute.

His other hand came to grip your jaw, tilting your head until you met his eyes. “I need you to get pregnant.”

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants as he kept humping you at a steady and torturous pace.

“You mean… you need to breed me, right?”

109 beats per minute.

His eyeds widened lightly and he thrusted harshly into you, causing a jolt of pleasure to travel all the way down to your clit. “That’s the same thing, cariño.”

You gave him a knowing smile. “Nomenclature and all that.”

Masterlist

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Your works beautiful, so much detail 👍Request: Alastor × female reader. They've been together for a long time; Alastor decides he wants have sex with reader. Reader tells him she's a virgin, which makes him want this occasion to be very special. On the night they plan it, Alastor gets called by his soul owner making him go away before their time together. Alastor's fearing that he won't make it back in time. He makes it back and they have a very romantic sex time. Soft, gentle, lots of kisses.

Trust - Alastor x fem!reader

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Hello! Thank you for this request!! Sorry if it came out a bit angsty. I haven't written smut in a while (since the ones posted until this one were written a month ago) and I kind of got more into the emotional side of it. Also, I had this song from TDG stuck in my head while writing this. Hope it's sweet tho!❤️

Words: ~1800 TW: vaginal sex, first time sex, oral (female receiving), fluff and a bit of angst

You thought he forgot. You thought he only filled your head with empty promises, just to make fun of you. To prove to you that he was not going to be tied down to you in any way.

But not now - not when his hands slowly lifted up your shirt, the brief touches sending shivers down your spine. Now, when he kissed you so eagerly, but at the same time so soft, as if not to scare you.

"I thought you left me..." you said, as he stopped, his eyes meeting yours. He sighed, resting his forehead against yours. He didn't blame you for thinking that. Even he didn't believe he would make it back in time - but he was here now.

“I would never willingly leave you behind, my dear. Something…unfortunate arose, but I returned as swiftly as I could.” he captured your lips once again, almost as if the thought of not returning made him miss you, even though you were right there, underneath him.

"Will you ever tell me what's going on?"

You knew Alastor had a deal. Who was the one on the other end remained a mystery. Alastor kept an open heart towards you, the idea of having someone he could open up to was not so dreadful as he thought it would be. But you never pressed things any further. If he wanted to tell you, he would do it himself.

"It's really nothing you should be concerned about, my dear...." he whispered, his soft smile faltering for a moment. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, freezing like this for a moment, your fingers brushing through his hair and occasionally caressing his ears. "I just..." he started, lifting his head slightly to look at you, but something made him stop, his smile reappearing. "Now, now... Let's not destroy the mood, right?"

His lips found yours, hesitant at first, then gradually more assured, every brush of his skin against yours igniting a fire within him. His fingers ghosted over your shirt, pausing as if waiting for unspoken permission, before slowly moving upward, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. A gasp made his ears twitch, as he started playing with your soft boobs, massaging them and occasionally pinching the already hardened nipples.

Alastor's kisses slowly reached your neck, the sensitive skin burning underneath his touch. He needed to let go of all his thoughts - he needed to get lost in the moment. To get lost in you.

He wanted to forget about everything he's ever done: the murders, the deals, the mistakes. He wanted to have you - the only thing that could still make him feel some warmth, something not even he thought was possible anymore. His fingers ghosted over your skin, more reverent than possessive, as if he feared you might vanish.

Your shirt slowly came off, exposing all of you entirely, a soft blush burning on your cheeks. Every little touch of his lips won a gasp from you - his tongue slowly encircling your nipple, while his claws left little trails behind them. His lips traced slow, delicate paths across your skin, lingering as though he could memorize each sensation. Every kiss was a quiet promise.

In a swift move, he took down your panties, leaving you completely vulnerable in front of him. You felt so small, like a deer in front of a wolf. But you weren't scared. And he knew that.

Alastor grabbed your knees, slowly opening your legs, your core glistening in the soft lighting his bayou provided. He ran his hands up and down your thighs as he leaned down, his breath sending shivers through your body.

"Are you trembling because you're scared, my love, or is it something else entirely?" he asked, his voice soft, a hint of amusement in it.

"Just... a bit nervous, I guess..." you whispered back.

He chuckled slightly, the sound of it making you clench slightly around nothing. "There's nothing to worry about, my dear... Now lay there and let me taste you."

Without warning, he gave you a long lick before his lips connected to your core, harshly sucking and eating you up like a starved man. Your hands quickly grabbed his hair, pulling it slightly as moans filled the room. Soft grunts from him made your heart skip a beat, the sight of Alastor between your legs mesmerising you completely.

He abused your sensitive bud with no remorse, your screams of pleasure going unnoticed by the deer demon. He was too lost in the moment, your taste awakening something feral inside of him.

"Ahh~ Shit! Al-Alastor, fuck!" you tried to move, but his claws tightly grabbed you, stopping you from escaping. His tongue flicked over you, the new sensation making you lightheaded. Slowly, he pushed his index finger inside of you, slightly spreading your walls that were desperately clenching around him. His tongue never slowed down, as his finger started pumping in and out of you.

You felt yourself melting into his touch, the sounds of your arousal making his bulge grow with every second. He never thought he would get so weak hearing you like this – vulnerable and begging him to make you feel good. Completely at his mercy and despite all these, you trusted him entirely.

Trust—a concept so foreign, yet here it was. He could shatter it, yet the idea of doing so left him hollow.

Something he earned easily as a way to manipulate others, to destroy them completely when they least expect it. No, he didn’t care about trust. Not when it came to others. But you were there. He could break you, he could torture your soul in ways you never even expected, but you still trusted him. And somehow, a part of him hated it.

He hated it because a part of him knew he would disappoint you. No, he didn’t care if Charlie failed. He didn’t care if that hotel one day just collapsed, taking everyone with it. But failing you...

Alastor's chest tightened. He'd always been the predator, never the prey. Yet, at this moment, the thought of failing you gnawed at him in ways he never imagined. Love was foreign to him — too tender, too vulnerable. But here, with you, it was the only thing that made sense.

It wasn’t just a mere thought that passed his mind from time to time – just a dark possibility that lingered in his mind. It was something that made him go crazy. Just like how he disappointed his mother, it hurt him to the deepest parts of him.

He stopped for a moment, looking up at you, watching as your chest rapidly rose. “Alastor?” you whispered as you tried to regain your composure.

What if he failed his part of the deal? What if he was never going to return to this? What if you were going to get hurt?

He quickly climbed back on top of you. With trembling hands, he gently cupped your face before leaning in, his lips brushing against yours. This kiss felt desperate as if he were savouring what could be the last time, his every move filled with longing. A desperate kiss before you were going to be taken away from him, just like everything he dared to love.

But when he opened his eyes, you were still here, and a part of him got warm again. “Are you sure you want this, my dear?”

You pulled him closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I want you, Alastor… More than anything…” Something in his mind broke. With one hand, he reached for yours, bringing it down to his hard bulge, your face burning at the sudden gesture.

"I never thought I'd be capable of this… of wanting someone as much as I want you," Alastor whispered as you felt his hardness. "You're killing me..." he buried his face into your neck as he quickly unzipped his pants. He didn’t plan to give in so easily, but he needed this. He needed to make sure you were really there. He needed to feel you entirely.

You closed your eyes as his lips placed trails of kisses down your neck, his tip pressed against your core. He slowly moved it in and out, barely entering you, as you winced a bit at the discomfort. It was like a torturous game between pain and pleasure. With every move he entered more and more, stretching you out as soft moans enlightened him.

Alastor pressed his thumb against your clit, circling fast as he went in deeper, careful not to hurt you. Low grunts echoed in your ears as your walls clenched around him. He had to fight back the urge not to pound you into the mattress right there, the slow pace making him go crazy.

Every thrust sent shivers through your body, the way his finger moved against your clit making the coil in your stomach twist. The way he dragged around your sensitive walls made you melt against him, pulling him deeper into your embrace.

His mind was a mess, taking in every detail of this moment. He wanted it to last forever, to feel you there with him until you both would die once again, whatever that could mean for a sinner. Because maybe this time, he would die happy.

His pace quickened, your wetness gushing around his cock as you felt yourself getting closer. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers slowly tugging at his hair. Your moans were everything he could think of, flooding his mind like a sweet melody.

A deep thrust made you cry out in pleasure as he never stopped abusing that sweet spot. His name was everything you could think of as you tightly clenched around him, the waves of pleasure making your body spasm against his bigger frame. And, despite his attempt to engulf himself more in this moment, it was enough for him to finish. With powerful thrusts he spilt his cum inside of you, filling you up entirely.

You sat there, watching him as his body went numb against yours, pulling you closer towards him. You knew there was something he pushed in the back of his mind, something he would never tell you unless ready to. So you just pulled him closer, at least making him feel a bit relieved.

“I love you, Alastor…” you whispered, as his ears twitched slightly at the words. He pulled you closer, wanting to feel that warmth you never failed to provide for him.

“I…” The words were right there, lodged in his throat. He had never spoken them before, not with this kind of weight. What was he without the walls he built around himself? But as his gaze locked with yours, the warmth in your eyes broke him down, word by word. You cooed him, running your hand through his hair, his breath soft.

“I don’t want you to leave me too, my dear…”

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xghostnuggsx @vxllys

@ustulia @n0tmentallystable @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog @alastorthirsty

@l3rittany @catticora

[lxvebun]

kiss it better!

synopsis: you know better than to try and hide your wounds from them, however small it may be know that they are more than ready to take care of you. Aka jjk boys caring for your injuries

buns notes: I had a part for Gojo and Nanami as well but found myself getting stuck on it. Perhaps they'll come later but for now enjoy Geto and Sukuna♡.

content:Geto/Sukuna x gender neutral reader. fluff/hurt comfort. Soft Defect/cultish!geto (idk what to call it jejjd just canon suguru) canon violence. Blood. Lovesick/soft ish sukuna as always🤭. Not entirely proofread I am sleepy. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes!!

Suguru

"Did you really think you could hide that from me, my darling?" Suguru coos. His voice deep and honeyed, overly thick and sweet as he tries to swallow down the urge to demand, to interrogate the cause of the gash on the side of your forehead.

It would do you no good to see that side of him, especially in this state you're in. Trying to hide the tiny rivers of blood trickling down your face, droplets sinking into the wooden floors beneath your feet. He doesn't want you to feel a sliver of fear anywhere near him.

And he's good usually at maintaining his composure. Even if his mind is already twisting into something darker and cruel. but God, the thought of someone, whether Human, Sorcerer, or curse hurting you makes him physically sick. The blood pooling in his mouth from biting his tongue does not help either.

"I'm okay, Suguru." you breathe out, a little labored, not necessarily from the dull ache on the side of your head.

You're not afraid of him, could never be, he's good to you and you see how hard he tries. Fragments of a younger, more carefree suguru slipping through at times. But something twists in your gut as the sparkle fades from his eyes and his gaze zeroes in on your injury. You know what goes on in his head. Thoughts as black and dark as spilled ink swallowing up all the light that left unless he pulls back quick enough. It's a venomous spiderweb that's hard to get out of

Fortunately, he does. Your voice luring him back almost like a Siren's whisper, from what's going on inside his head.

It takes him a few seconds to orientate himself. A few deep breaths and fluttering of eyelashes before he can tear his gaze away from the cut and look into your eyes.

Gentle and careful hands slide under your jaw. His tumb wiping away some of the blood. Rough hands still feeling light and safe. As if he were cradling a bird with a broken wing in his hands. 

(it makes you melt a little more into him.)

It's not a deep cut, not deep enough for stitches at least. It may leave a light scar unless he gets someone to heal it for you. Then again, you have refused that option in the past, trying to maintain somewhat of normality in your life

He can't blame you for that, but he's also not sure what to do..

"Tell me what you need, my darling." It comes out a little desperate

(As if he might succumb if you don't tell him what you desire right now)

"Help me clean up," you begin, knowing he wants to be with it every step of the way. To nurse you back to health "and then you can kiss it better for me while we watch some movies, hmm? :)"

He closes his eyes for a second, your head still cradled in his hands, his touch a bit more relaxed, a little less delicate but still comforting. And then he opens them again, a gentle smile playing on his lips, and the sparkle in his eyes reignited.

He's back

(If he notices the way your shoulders relax, he doesn't comment on it.)

"Of course, my love"

Sukuna

You know better than to hide your injuries from him. It would be foolish of you to even attempt to deceive him. You're part of him now, intertwined into his soul. He's mapped out every little detail of you. He picks up on the slightest shifts in your mood and tone. Hears the hitch in your breath if something surprises you, knows exactly how you achieved the seemingly random bruises on your legs and has memorized the healthy beating pattern of your heart. So even before you pushed open the heavy wooden doors to his chambers, he could hear your labored breathing and smell the blood staining your skin..

His voice booms around the chamber, as you finally open the door. It's loud and aggrivated. Shaking the walls. Dripping in venom and laced in a desperation only you'd be able to pick up on as he calls out Uraume's name. The sight of you bloodied and teary eyed is almost enough to make him fall to his knees. You don't know that his heart has molded into the shape of a chapel dedicated to you. Filled with every little detail of you. brimming with gold and laced with utter adoration and devotion. He'll kneel until his spine breaks and his knees crack against the floor below him if you'd just tell him who could possibly dare to do this to you

He lifts you up and carries you to his bed before his knees give out under him. His grip a little too tight, a little too bruising even for those few seconds. Afraid you'd slip right out of his arms if he doesn't hold you close enough. You can basically feel the blood boiling in his veins, turning into rivers of lava under his skin.

He doesn't make eye contact as he gently lays you down on the bed.

(Perhaps because you've always been good at reading him, perhaps because he'll fear what he'll do if he catches sight of anymore blood)

.....

The gash on your side is healing nicely, thank Uraume for their steady hands. Sukuna would have done it, but all his eyes would have focused on would be the blood staining your robes, trickling out of the wound in steady flows and your teary eyes. He wouldn't have been able to keep his touch delicate enough to heal you properly. Too engrossed in the thoughts of punishment and cruelty to keep the violence from bleeding into his touch. He'd never forgive himself if he'd hurt you. Even accidentally.

(He lost control once in the heat of passion. Kissed you a bit to roughly with sharpened teeth. It's nothing compared to what he can do. He is the king of curses after all. God to some, an abomination of nature to most. Still, He filed them down ever since.)

He made sure to stay and watch before he goes out and track down the filth that did this. He trusts Uraume, undoubtely so, but he wants to see Your wounds disappear and the blood wash off of your skin with his own eyes

Healing someone with a curse technique feels similar to getting stitches as the skin gets closed back together. He knows it's normal but Hells, every flinch, every little twitch you make as the skin heals make his hands itch to dig into the chest of whoever did this to you, ears already ringing at the begs and pleas for mercy and he personally deals with the parasite that dared to put their hands on someone even the king of curses himself bows down to.

How incredibly foolish of them.

"Well, that should be it" Uraume's voice snaps him out of his trance. He watches as they bow down to you, even after many many times of you telling them they don't have to and turn to him. "I'll go get some clean robes" bowing down once more, and leave the chambers.

The room falls silent again. He's becoming a little restless. Eyes trailing over your form before glancing at the door, going back and forth between you. Trying to decide what his next move should be

"Stay, please". You whisper. The adrenaline gone from your body

You make up his mind for him.

He's on you the second those words left your lips. His anger leaving him...for now. He keeps it at the back of his mind. Your wishes are more important than seeking revenge. Revenge can wait. You don't have to

He asks you how you're feeling as he wraps his arms around you, cradling your head to his chest as he lays down on the bed next to you. You make the mistake of being truthful

"Its a little sore-"

he's up again before you can even finish your sentence, ignoring the whine falling from your lips as he removes his arms from around you

"There should be some freshly gathered herbs in the kitchen today" he begins as lines it to the door

"Sukuna-"

"I can concoct something that should dull the soreness in a heartbeat-" his hand already on the door handle

"Ryomen."

He stops abruptly. Turning to look at you over his shoulder. Keeping his hand against the door. Waiting for you to finish your sentence

"I don't want a herbal concotion"

His brows furrow together, surprisingly cute for a being like him. He turns to you fully, slowly pacing back to the bed

"What is it that you desire then, my love?"

He almost sounds nervous, eyes wide and eager to hear of your demands so he can fullfill them. "Is there another potion you'd like, do you-" he begins to ramble again. You cut him off

"I think a kiss would be sufficient enough actually, my lord~♡"

His words die in his throat. Worry melting into a more stoic expression as he looks at you with what you can only describe as 'are you serious' Your laugh at the shift in his expression, gods that beautiful angelic sound, quickly breaks his into a gentle smile. Heart calming down.

"If thats what you need who am I to refuse?"

You look more than content, a state he wants to keep you in forever, as he leans over you on the bed. Matress bending under his weight as he places one hand next to your head, the other slowly cuping your face as he dips down to lock your lips with his

(He could kiss you forever, if you'd let him)

"Better?"

He doesn't bother to pull away, instead choosing to speak against your lips. Eyes soft and breath hot against you.

"I think I need a higher dosage actually~♡"

RAAAA thank you for reading angels!!♡