#or frankly to get my hands on that core

[jessieren]

The Sunday Confessional

Having almost died at a PT session earlier where they told me the answer was to strengthen my core I've been finding ummm... 'inspiration' in these shots of Evans and his impressive crouching skills - which I assume stem from a fairly impressive core

If anyone needs me I'll be errrmmm... back soon... ish

Also... how to spot Evans in a crowd 😂

[librarydilf]

a truly astounding number of things about me can very easily be understood by just listening to howl by florence + the machine a lot

[catcze]

#BOOTHILL — Humming wc: 0.3 fluff, kisses, Bootsie bein in love ♡ — The core in his chest will ever only purr for you.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

“Did you know—“ you’re practically kiss-drunk when you part, lips shiny and looking like sweet candy. “—That you hum when we kiss?”

And Boothill can do little more than blink, brows furrowed. "What?"

"Mhm," you nod dreamily, the hand that you've splayed on his metal chest has its fingers dipping under the hem of his top, doodling nonsensical little hearts. "Yeah. Right here, whenever we kiss, you hum."

Like you've summoned it, he feels something purr inside of him as you look up at him, smiley and sweet and well-loved. If he were still flesh and bones, he would've said it was his heart skipping a beat.

"There it is again!" you laugh, feeling the vibrations through your palms, splaying them out more, trying to feel the hum from his core in your fingertips again. Boothill kind of wishes he could do it on command, just to see you react to it whenever he wants. But he supposes there is a way...

"Y'like hearin' me hum, darlin'?" he murmurs, leaning into you. One of his hands grasps your own, weaving your fingers together, and the other holds you still at the back of your neck.

Not one to back down (and frankly too kiss-drunk to think about anything else other than getting his lips back on yours) you brush your nose with his and gaze at him through your lashes. "Mm, I do— very much, actually. And I'd like to hear it again."

Sharp teeth flash in a grin. "Well now, what kinda sorry excuse for a fella would I be t'deny my sweetheart anythin'?"

Boothill swallows your delighted gasp in a kiss, lips pressed to yours in a move that is all too familiar at this point. It's almost embarrassing how easy you have him bending to your whims, really. And when that tell-tale hum resonates from him again, he can feel you smile into the kiss, pushing yourself closer against him as if you mean to feel it in your own chest.

And oh, he thinks. There will never be anyone else who has him wrapped so tightly around their finger as you do.

[st4rbwrry]

𝒩𝒪𝒪𝒦𝐼𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: getou isn’t fond of the new gardener you hired who’s clearly flirting with you when he’s not home.

warnings ౨ৎ 2.7k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, cunninglingus/face riding, cottage core au? + getou’s a farmer, missionary in da kitchen, praising ofc, exhibitionism, jealousy, possessiveness, getou’s kinda rude, sub / dom dynamic, established relationship, rough play, m oral, impact play, unprotected, pet names ex. [ baby, sweetheart ], minors aren’t welcomed! comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

getou doesn’t appreciate that you aren’t greeting him with his usual kisses after you raise on your tippy toes to smooch him after he comes home from a long day of churning butter and tending to livestock. it doesn’t make him happy to know that you’re not tending to his attention and rather giving it to another man after he strolls through your large kitchen, that he built for you, to head into the back of your farmhouse to find you giggling and conversing with the new gardener. a gardener that you personally hired that he had yet to meet.

he could smell the pan of shepherds pie and cornbread in the oven, ignoring the way his stomach growls hungrily and it quickly being consumed with irritation. you’re wearing your cute pink apron with tiny patterns of sunflowers and bunnies as you hold a woven basket of freshly picked strawberries the man before you tossed into. having a conversation about fucking strawberries. he didn’t expect this man to be. . . of your type. tall, nice smile, good hair, makes you laugh a little too fucking hard. what about fruits could possibly be so fucking funny, [♡]?

“what a surprise,” getou’s voice is laced with annoyance, deep and causing the two to go silent as he makes his way down the steps to stand directly next to you. you blink, knowing your husband very well and easily you could tell he’s off.

“hi, baby! this is matteo, he’s our new gardener! we were talking a lot about the new setup i plan on having!” the smile on your face is pure, looking back and forth between getou and your gardener. “he just started today.”

“hey, man. nice to meet you. your wife told me all about you,” matteo remains professional, extending his hand for a handshake. you roll your lips in, waiting for your husband to comply with respect. it’s silent as you stare between both men, feeling the hairs on the back of your neck rise from anxiousness.

“mhm,” is all getou can say, matteo taken aback by his approach. it’s extremely rude, and you blink excessively to keep your composure. taking a deep breath, you form a tight lipped smile towards your gardener.

“excuse me for a moment,” you speak, side eyeing getou before pulling him to the side, matteo continuing his job by picking juicy fruits from their stems.

“what’s your deal? that was fucking rude,” you denounce, gawking up at him with a raised brow. getou folds his bulky arms, not understanding how you’re acting dumb right now. you knew this would piss him off.

getou leans down to get closer to you, lips inches from your ear. “who told you to hire somebody like this?"

"hire somebody like what?" the man retaliates, overhearing getou’s weak attempt of whispering to you, taking offense. regardless, he spoke on his name when he was right there.

getou turns his face only an inch or so, barely giving the man full attention. you swallow, his face nearly touching your own possessively, like an animal protecting it’s mate. getou then switches his eyes fully, intensely staring at the man. "like someone she'd fuck."

his immature response causes you to step away from him with a look of disgust, brows pinched with anger. you couldn’t believe his mouth. you’re not sure what the fuck’s gotten into him, but it wasn’t cute. quite frankly, he looked stupid.

“you’re making a fucking fool of yourself,” you spat, eyes burning. knocking your head back in the sweet gardeners direction, you hold your hand over your heart apologetically. “i am truly sorry for my husband’s rudeness. please forgive me for this, but i think it’s best if you go. i will give you a call tomorrow. i’m sorry again.”

the man nods only once, keeping his focus solely on you, not even bothering to glance in your husband’s direction. his possessiveness a black cloud over the party. “it’s not a problem at all. have a great rest of your day, ma’am.”

the minute your gardener is out of view, that’s when you give getou an irritated snarl, looking him up and down as if the man had no shame. which he didn’t, and that was the problem. “what is wrong with you?!”

getou intakes air as you strut away angrily, heading back into your kitchen to adapt into the ignoring him bubble and completely tuning into your dinner prepping. since you have freshly picked strawberries, you decided to start a mixture for muffins you could sell to the neighborhood tomorrow morning. a festival was being held at the ranch a few blocks down, already promising a few ladies you’d whip something up sweet.

getou follows behind, studying as you huff and puff to yourself while gathering eggs, milk and other things you needed.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“because it’s fucking stupid. why’d i hire someone to help me out? oh my god, such a mystery.”

“you’re being immature.”

that causes you to stop all movements. holding onto the edges of the island and staring at him with disbelief, mouth actually drawn open as you scoff. “i’m immature? because you didn’t just disrespect that man for no reason. you know him or sum?”

“don’t act slow. you hired that man ‘cause he’s someone you can eye fuck when i’m not home. don’t pretend you don’t find him attractive,” getou grits his teeth.

you roll your eyes. “ohh, so it’s jealousy! why would i want to cheat on someone i’m in love with? you’re being extremely distrustful. take that shit out of my kitchen, suguru.”

“say that again,” he’s approaching you now, getou observing as you cross your arms and pretend to be unfazed by how much bigger he was compared to you. his bare feet thumps along the floor as he nears you, hands in the pockets of his dark washed jeans, shoulders broad as he stared down at you darkly. now your body’s pressed up against the kitchen counter, turning your head the opposite way to avoid eye contact.

“suguru,” you stand on what you say, uncaring. your husband deviously grins.

getou kisses his teeth smugly. you practically moan when his hand grips your jaw to bring your attention back, fingers denting into your cheeks to make your lips pout, head tilted back. “watch that mouth of yours. there’s no need to be bratty.”

teeth sinks into your lips he gawks at for a split second before meeting your eyes again. a feeble noise comes from you as he swiftly pulls up your white sundress, hands on the backs of your thighs to spread you open, fingers pulling your pussy open. not surprised to see you weren't wearing underwear. really, that pisses him off even further. it’s windy out and you were engaging in conversation with that man knowing your pussy was bare. he wants to laugh, seeing how wet you are already. fucking nympho. even though you’re mad, you can’t ignore how hot his touch makes you. you gulp, holding onto the edge of the counter as your gut flips after he crouched on one knee.

his breath hits your clit, and instantly your thighs tremble, getou slowly sticking his tongue out his mouth, wide, long, and slick with saliva. it hovers over your clit, barely touching it. part of you wants to grab his hair and shove him down, but the look in his eyes says not to try it. his fingers come up to your face, extending two of the long digits inside of your mouth. you suck obediently, moaning around them while rolling forward towards his, aching for it. his free hand smacks your inner thigh causing you to release his fingers and whimper, getou wasting zero time and curling them deep into you, shaking them frivolously as his lips suction on your clit, kissing your pussy deeply, using so much saliva.

his stare is hard on you the entire time, wrist moving instantaneously as he fucks you with them. he’s having a ball watching you wither and roll your hips, squealing and raising your thighs higher to your chest, listening to his fingers slam into you, that gushing sound of your pussy coating his fingers.

"c-can’t. . .”

"shut up," briskly, he pulls his fingers out and spanks your clit with them, standing to his feet, towering over you. you rest your head back against the wall by the window, shifting your body since your ass hurt a little from being on a granite countertop.

most of his words are blocked out as you watch the sexually pent-up man drag his pants down until they sit at his waist, pussy clenching at the dark pubic hairs sticking out, lust in your eyes as his veiny, big hand fists his cock. the thick vein leading up to the crown leaking precum makes you smile hazily.

"look at me when i’m talking to you."

you're too fucking mesmerized by him. his slightly dirty white tshirt is hiked up now, godly sculpted abs enticing you to run your fingers over them with a giddy laugh. getou tilts his head to the side, clenching his jaw.

"hey," he calls to you, snapping his fingers twice in your face, voice deeper than usual. you can see that he's not up for bullshit. he’s arched over you, hair sticking to his forehead as he places his right hand on your lower back, arching into him until your chest presses against his. "listen to me when i talk to you, woman.”

the smell of his skin is intoxicating, reaching your hands behind him to claw at his ass, open mouth on his chin, moaning as he slides deep into you, looking down at you with a groan escaping his throat, furrowing his thick brows. getou tries not to lose it, because despite his frustration, there's no way he could deny just how fucking good you felt pulling him deep right now. you hold tight, eyes hazy as he pounds into you without another word, arm stretching over to press his palm on the cabinet above, balancing himself and dragging you to meet him thrust for thrust.

"pussy so needy for me. it fuckin’ better be,” please shut up, is what you think. his voice is too damn addictive, and the way he fucks you, virulently, like he fucking despised you . . . you didn't know if you could take much more. the other half of your brain is the opposite, thanking him over and over.

"oh, look, princess. there’s your favorite man,” it doesn't register that the two of you are legit fucking near an open window where anyone could see. “let’s say hi, baby."

unsure why he came back, it only takes ten seconds for your sweet gardener to immediately be swept with trauma, catching a glimpse at the two of you, getou’s dark eyes burning into him while yours are shut to hide the embarrassment, stomach still flipping with rouse. his fingers has your jaw locked still to keep your fucked out face in the direction of the man who’s nothing short of unimpressed. tasteless, he thinks. wasting no time and turning away to hop back inside of his truck, only coming because he forgot to give you back the key to your garage. his lips are by your ear now. "looks like we’ll have to hire someone else.”

"you’re s-so . . . mean,” it’s the only thing you can think of, trembling and yanking your face out of his grasp. you wanna say you hate him, but deep down you knew this is what you've been craving all along. he’s exactly how you wanted him to be; lecherous. "fuck, can’t stand you.”

"you love me, sweetheart,” he coed, you hiccup. sobbing as he throws one of your legs over his arm, angling his hips slightly to the right and hitting into you faster, rolling your neck back, listening to how viscous his skin claps with your own, and his breath fans over your face.

"awe," he pouts, giving your forehead a chaste kiss. "y‘not gonna say it back?”

“d’nt deserve it,” you’re slurring your words and it pisses you off how dumb he makes you. his hand is around your neck now, choking you until you feel the blood rushing to your skull, luring the back of your own hand to your lips, using it as some sort of blockage for how loud you were being. louder than usual.

inching his lips towards yours, he studies how desperate you are to latch your lips with his, only for him to snatch them away. “then you don’t deserve my kiss.”

a frustrated whine leaves your throat, getou humming tauntingly, delicately skimming his bitten red lips over yours with a moan following along with a whispered ‘no’. tightening his lock around your neck, he rolls his hips deeper, your hand clutching his wrist with tears in your eyes. “not until you tell me you love me.”

you gently sink your teeth into the back of your hand, getou leaning closer before sloppily kissing at your palm where your lips rested, an evil stare painted his expression. he sucks, licks, and moans on your hand, knowing you were wishing he'd do that to your mouth instead. fuck, that was enough to get you to the breaking point. thighs trembling as you drop your mouth open, nothing coming out.

"wait, are you gonna cum?" his mouth upturns as he widens his eyes and mouth with fake surprise. "you’re cumming, aren't you? don’t cum. if you cum, i’ll stop."

"suguru, fucking stop—"

"stop what, huh? why you talkin' back?" shoving his thumb in your mouth, he fucks you harder, body jolting as your eyes roll back and your mouth drools, clutching his wrist harder to keep him there. "weren't you gonna cum?"

"yessss!" you wail, tears falling down your eyes. that coil in the pit of your stomach is ready to snap, getou’s sadistic voice ringing in your ears as he praises you, hips ramming harder to get you to break, clutching the back of his neck and screaming into his chest, giving him the answer he wants, riding the wave. "love you. love you.”

“good girl, good girl,” he proceeds to fuck you through it, just enough until you're pushing at his stomach to stop, kissing up the side of his neck drunkenly. getou slides out of you, holding back a moan before he's grabbing your hand and pulling you off the counter, holding your waist so you don't fall over.

"knees, now."

you're more than happy to lower to your knees, already knowing what to prepare for, lulled, teary eyes focusing on him and the slick coated cock stretching over your face. you hold onto the back of his thighs, widening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, getou holding your head still before gliding his dick inside the cave of heat now inundating him, jaw dropping, using the other hand to hold the cabinet once more and mercilessly fucking your throat. his moans are coarse, grunting and throwing his head back, hips stuttering as he holds you still and shoots deep in your mouth, cursing thousands of times he nearly filled the dictionary.

"swallow it and show me," and you do, without hesitation, sticking your tongue out proudly and it makes getou even prouder. "that’s my girl."

"whatever," you wipe the side of your mouth, getou lifting you off the floor, legs still too weak to function.

“there’s that mouth again, sweetheart. cut it short before i fuck you harder,” oh, he’s serious. that darkness in his eyes telling you not to try it again.

“s-sorry, baby. love you,” you give him those pretty doe eyes he falls weak to, rubbing your hands over his waist while placing your chin on his chest. batting your lashes innocently.

getou hums. “tell me that after you get rid of that fuckin’ gardener.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[greeniegirl23]

Spilled Ink!! 🔏: Alastor x Reader NSFW!

(Minors DNI! Go clean your sneakers! >:(

Mentions: NSFW/ Overstimulation/ Begging/ Alastor having Dom energy/ Fucking Stupid - Stupid Fucking)

-------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly, you're not too sure how it even happened. One moment you were reading a book in your room until Alastor came knocking, resulting in you both getting into a fuzz about his ability to snap stuff to fruition as he pleased, so why did he need to pester you and take your very high quality, very expensive ink.

You had to remind him that you worked for a living and he even tried to intimate it out of you by informing you that his day had been very trying. You were only supposed to tell him to go to double hell and slam the door in his face, that's all!

But before you could, he tried to snatch it off of your desk, resulting in a tussle and the ink to go flying on both of your clothes. Things got blurry for a second, but you remember blinking and be sat square in his lap with his length nestled in the deepest crevices of your body.

Your back was facing his as he pressed kisses to your neck, leaving bitmarks and hickies in the junction of your shoulder. The robe you wore was drooping down, giving him room to paint your body with his affection and leaving one of your breasts exposed to the warm air of the room.

Darkness caused your senses to be dialed up to eleven. You couldn't see a thing except for the soft crimson glow of his eyes out of your peripherals. Long slender fingers snuck themselves under your robe, a hand caressed your curves before setting on your stomach to feel the small bulge that was there. He had to admit, his chest swelled with pride as he felt himself through your body. Resting peacefully and warm, just how he liked it.

The other hand cradled your head as you leaned back on him for support. Hot tears traced down your face and over his fingers; he felt so good but it wasn't enough to dismiss the burn that ached in your core.

You thanked God that he allowed you to adjust. You tried to tell him he wouldn't fit, you really did but he wouldn't listen. Instead, he hushed you with sweet nothings into your ear. Wiping your tears with something disguised as love as he breached your entrance and pushed your body past it's limits.

Even when you shrieked in discomfort, he held you by your chin and kissed your forehead. “Shhh, relax darling.” He cooed. “I said I'd take care of you and I am a man of my word, but I have to get in somehow.” He said in a sing-song like voice, half dressed and disheveled.

Your claws shredded his clothing as he pushed inch, after agonizing inch into your tight heat. Kissing away your tears until he managed to fit all of himself inside you.

That had been about five minutes ago and you could tell he was starting to get impatient. Clicks and chirps from his internal radio grew in frequency, pressing his nose into your skin to inhale your sweet scent, and shallowly bucking his hips.

The soft clicking sound from where you were intertwined made your walls pulse around him, causing him to moan softly into your ear. The initial sound was so lewd and frankly embarrassing, but your body responded to it like a beautiful symphony.

Pretty soon his hips found a steady pace within you, using his powers to restrain your hands behind your back while his own moved to grip the fat of your curves. Soft clicks turned into soft slapping, quiet moans transitioned into something straight up pornographic.

He was so fucking big to the point where your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Each nudge to your cervix made you wanna cry but you were swimming in pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to a release.

Alastor huffed and puffed in your ear, letting out genuine moans that you were deemed worthy enough to hear. Whispering and whimpering your name into his kisses, the sharpness of his claws pierced your skin in a delicious manner as he picked up the pace.

You were hugging him so tightly, pulsing around him with a vice-like grip, and giving him the most intimate of cockrings straight from the heart of your core.

It didn't take long until you were begging for mercy. Begging for him to slow down because you just couldn't take him in his entirety. Everything was too much, he was too big, you were too close! Fuck! You were gonna!-

Alastor supported your body as you convulsed almost violently against him. Even as you screamed his name, as tears fell down the apples of your cheek, he still kept his pace up. Bullying your poor pussy despite your tightness trying to force him out so you could breathe for a damn second!

“Stop resisting..” He growled, fucking you seven ways to Sunday through your sensitivity. “You can take it darlin’”

You wanted to scream, but your voice was too hoarse from earlier. “I can’t!” You stuttered out. The tip of his length was hitting your g-spot so good it made your toes curl and your eyes cross.

“Just a bit more..!” He begged, fighting his Southern drawl as you pulsed around him again. He was so close but it wasn't enough, he needed more.

In a swift motion, Alastor had pulled out and threw you on your back. Shredding off your robe into nothing but tatters of fabric, he folded your knees back to reach your ears and plunged himself back into your heat.

The bundle of nerves between your body had grown puffy, your walls had grown weary of Alastor's torment. Every thrust had him practically shifting your insides around while the bulge from before was now more prominent given the new position.

In a desperate attempt, you stuck out your hands against his stomach with your palms flat. “..Slow down!”

Needless to say that didn't work, because in five seconds flat your wrists were chained by the commanding snap of his fingers, and placed around his neck so you couldn't move them.

“Know your place little girl..” He hissed. Extremely irritated that you'd dare interrupt him, much less demand him to do anything all in the same sentence.

As punishment, he buried his face into your neck as his body grew a bit in size. Just around his pelvic area of course, sending straight jolts of pain through your body as his thrust were even more forceful than before.

“AH! M’SorryM’Sorry!!!” You quickly apologized, while tuging at the restraints. Hoping that he'd forgive you because if not, you wouldn't be walking anywhere for a very long time.

“Too late darlin..’” His body curled itself over top of your smaller one, forcing you into more of a ball and somehow sending him deeper. You screamed profanities, struggled against your restraints, and begged for his forgiveness but it was no use.

He fucked you mercilessly, the kind of sex that could make you fall in love with even your most hated enemy. A second release was coming up on you fast, as you let out all sorts of sounds through gritted teeth and Alastor got lost in his own pool of ecstasy. It was almost impressive that he was fucking both of you into stupidity.

“Keep beggin’ like that cher, n’ you'll drive a man mad..” He whispered with a thick static lacing his tone.

“Al please, I can't take it!” You cried, only for him to kiss your cheek in comfort. “S’all most over Sweetheart, it's almost over…” Slowly his hand crept down between your bodies and began to give some attention to the bundle of nerves that had been neglected for some time now.

“Alastor, wait!-” He slammed his lips against your own as you pleaded between kisses, forced to take his onslaughts because he had ceased your every way to move. It didn't take long before your orgasm hit you like a eighteen wheeler, your body locked up so badly you caught a cramp in your thigh.

Wailing against his lips, Alastor took the opportunity to fuck his last bits of strength into you before his own realese finally finally came.

His antlers sprouted high enough to scrape the ceiling, claws tore the couch stuffing in his office to mere tatters as the internal radio within him flipped through what sounded like a thousand stations all at once. His moans were intangible, thick, and distorted into a language you couldn't understand as he pumped thick ropes of his seed directly into your body. Filling you up to the point of overflowing as the buzz from the best fucking sex of your existence begin to settle in. His lips fought to stay stuck in yours, to soothe your cries as he cradled your body and muttered "I've got you cher, I'm right here." against your lips. The occasional profanity slipping out here and there from your body sucking him dry.

It took awhile for Alastor to remove himself, taking a second to observe his handiwork on your body and to also appreciate the white substance that leaked from your fountain of intimacy. Snapping away your restraints, he helped you sit up as best you could without wabbling and placed his trademark tailcoat over your shoulders, even securing it with his bowtie as he dressed himself properly.

“You can keep that for now, I'll purchase you a new robe from Rosie's sometime this week.”

In silence you sat as his finished straightening his clothes and grabbing the pen ink that he originally bothered you for in the first place.

“Don't worry about walking for the next few days, I'll have my shadows set up space for you in my room and if anyone asks I'll tell them you've come down with a fever.”

“I'm sorry.” You waved your hand in a circle. “You think you can walk into my room and pick a fight with me over ink that you could have snapped into reality by yourself, bang me like a screen door during a hurricane, and then expect me to take recovery in your chambers?!”

“Yes.” He said with a smile, cocky and condescending. “I did quite a number on you my dear, you're going to need some special attention for a while.”

“Uh, fuck you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Really now?” He smirked, placing a hand on his hip with the sass of a middle aged woman. “Stand up and walk.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me, darling I didn't screw you daft." He raised an eyebrow and looked down on you with a dark expression, grinning big enough to split his face in two.

"Walk.."

With an irritated twitch in your eye, you shuffled to the edge of the couch and stood up, taking a cautious step forward before a strike of pain knocked on the door of your brain, resulting in you limping forward and falling before you could even hit a second step. Luckily, Alastor's lanky arms were there to catch you as you curled in on yourself from the excruciating cramps that were blossoming in your stomach.

“The fuck did you do to me?” You groaned. “Ughh, it feels like I just got hit with my cycle!"

A smarmy chuckle left his lips as he fixed you bridal style in his arms. “That would be the bruising of your cervix settling in, hence why you're going to need my care for a bit. I've got some remedies from my time up above that should aid in easing the issue.”

Hissing from his purposely uncareful movements, you fought the urge to stretch him. “You motherfucker..”

He snorted as he carried you into his room in the dark of the hotel. “I'd hardly refer to myself as such a thing, however if we do have little hellspawns, twelve would do nicely, I suppose then that name would become a more applicable title. ”

“Twelve what?! Are you insane?!"

He shrugged. "Go big or go home Darling!"

[lumiambrose]

✰ tangled in silk

kinktober 24 - day eight

featuring: chigiri hyoma x f!reader

summary: as one of the eclipse royale’s famed dancers, putting on a good show is light work for you. it seems like one of the pretty men watching you tonight wants to reward you.

tags: smut, p in v, blowjobs, use of restraints, blindfolds, whips, vibrators, dom/sub dynamic, degradation, praise, petnames (doll, pretty)

wc: 2k

as one of the eclipse royale’s famed dancers, putting on a good show is light work for you. especially when such a pretty man is practically undressing you with his eyes as you sway across the stage.

what you didn’t expect, though, was that very same guy to be undressing you backstage after said performance.

“how naughty. bet you wanted this from the beginning, huh?” the harsh leather of the whip he dicovered paints your ass red. he has you bent over a loveseat in the dressing room, dressed in nothing but the scandalous two-piece you showed off earlier during your performance.

“nasty little vixen,” he coos in a dark, teasing tone. “did you know you had me wrapped around that pretty little finger of yours?” ironic, considering the situation you’re in.

velvet ropes tie your arms behind your back, restraining your movement. your breaths come in a ragged rhythm as the leather of the whip bites into your ass again and again. you can’t complain, though. you wanted this considering it didn’t even take him five minutes for you to submit to him.

the man of the hour, chigiri hyoma himself, initially came here with his colleagues to celebrate. that was the plan until he spotted your pretty body dancing on stage. once you approached him after your performance, clearly interested in him, he knew you weren’t escaping his grasp.

he’s currently standing behind you, clad in a tailor-made suit of the finest fabrics, as he looks down on you, excited to press your limits.

“you’re so responsive, doll,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr as he runs his hand over your back. “i can see why you’re so sought after, what a pretty tease you are.” he leans down until his lips are brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “but now it’s my turn to tease you.”

his hands continue, tracing the waistline of your panties. you arch into his touch, letting out a needy whine. he chuckles at your desperation, delighted to see you like this for him. “so eager,” he lets out, his voice filled with praise. “i like that.”

he steps away for a moment. you try to follow his figure with your eyes, but in the dimly lit room all you can make out of his silhouette. his footsteps echo in the room as he finally returns to you. suddenly, you feel something soft brush against your face, and you realise he’s blindfolding you. the silk ribbon slides over your eyes, ridding you of any sight you had left while heightening your other senses.

your heart pounds in your chest, and your breathing is uneven as you wait in anticipation for his next move. you hear a faint click on the table next to you, which you assume is the whip, seeing as he’s now using both of his hands to guide you down to your knees. they rest firmly on your waist, helping you get comfortable on the floor.

“open your mouth, doll,” he commands.

you comply without hesitation. frankly, you don’t even think about it as your lips part open and he inserts his length. he’s rock hard, and it’s obvious with the way you’re struggling to take all of him, tasting the saltiness of his precum on your tongue.

he sets a slow, steady pace as he starts fucking your throat. his hips moving in a gentle rhythm, accompanied by soft grunts that you can just about make out. he tangles one of his hands in your hair, picking up the pace while the other disappears for a brief moment. the leather of the whip he used earlier bites into your back, the sudden sting making you jump as he now uses it to tease you, caressing the reddened spot he left merely seconds ago.

he trails the whip down your body, stopping right above your core. “you want this pretty?” he’s mocking you. you feel his dick twitch in your mouth as you whine around him, “are you that desperate to be touched?” all you can let out is a muffled moan as the leather tip rubs against your folds, collecting the slick that has been building up.

“what a pathetic slut,” he spits out, pulling the whip back and admiring your juices all over the toy. “guess it can’t be helped, you’re doing such a good job after all.” with that, you feel the whip on your clit once again, teasing and painting the outside of your folds. every movement makes you moan around his dick, bringing him closer to his orgasm.

his cock hits the back of your throat with each thrust, making tears well up in your eyes. it doesn’t help when he uses the whip to land a slap on your pussy, making you arch your back and scream around his cock. the pleasure and pain intertwining, overloading your senses so much that you can barely make out the difference.

chigiri chuckles once more, clearly amused by your desperate body. “you’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, although he knows the truth and you can’t answer in anything but whines and moans as his cock fills your throat up.

he picks up the pace, now moving in a frenzied rhythm as he inches closer to his release. you can feel it too—the tension in his body telling you everything you need to know as he uses you as his toy. slapping your clit and fucking your throat as though you were made for him.

suddenly, he pulls out, a wet pop sounding as his cock leaves your mouth. you gasp, catching your breath as he grips your hair tightly once more. “come for me, doll,” he commands.

you whimper, now unable to hide your sounds as your body finally orgasms. waves of pleasure crash through your body, leaving you a weak and breathless mess underneath him. chigiri lets out a loud groan as he pumps his cock and reaches his own high, cumming all over your face. despite being blinded by the silk, you close your eyes as you feel his hot liquid running down your cheeks.

“what an obedient slut,” he kneels so that he’s on the same level as you before tugging the blindfold covering your face. “you look so pretty painted with my cum, don’t you think?”

you nod at his words, and he cups your cheek, smearing some of the cum on you. “tell me, doll, you do want to keep going?” his tone is serious, just as his question, giving you a chance to back out now and pretend nothing ever happened. you, though, wouldn’t give this up for the world.

you take a moment to catch your breath, your chest heaving and your heart still racing. “yes,” you whisper, struggling to reply as you’re still recovering from chigiri’s harsh use. “i want to keep going, please.”

a smile spreads across his face at your words, he’s gleaming with satisfaction. he leans in, his lips brushing against yours as he takes your mouth, tasting himself as his tongue dances with yours. you melt into his touch, losing any former strength you had.

he guides you to your feet before pulling away to murmur, “good girl,” his voice a sultry purr, “i have so many plans for you.” his strong arms envelope you as he picks you up in a swift motion, your head resting against his chest as he leads you away from the loveseat. you can feel his cock, still hard, grazing the small of your back as he carries you around.

he brings you to your vanity, one of the many delicately decorated tables you and the other dancers have. you can see your reflection, hair dishevelled, face flushed, and body red and bruised from chigiri’s attention.

he sets you down gently on the table’s edge, letting your legs dangle on either side. he stands between your parted thighs, feeling the heat of his body against yours and his tip brushing your entrance.

although before he satisfy’s you, he rummages through the drawer on the side of the vanity, looking for anything to use on you. to his disbelief, he pulls out a small, thin object. “my my, you keep something like this at work?”

he turns on the small device, letting its hums fill the room before he brings it to your clit. at first, he only grazes it lightly over your bud, letting soft whimpers leave your mouth. not soon after though, he’s firmly pressing it against you. you moan at the contact, hips jerking involuntarily at the sudden sensations. the vibrations from the tiny device sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

chigiri eventually does get bored though, dropping the vibrator and leaving you unsatisfied. though that feeling doesn’t last long as he’s already pulling you closer to the edge of the vanity and lining himself up with your soaking cunt. without any further warning, he thrusts into you, burying himself deep inside you.

you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body arching as he begins to pound into you. he’s moving inside of you at such a harsh pace, the sound of flesh slapping against each other filling the room as you can do nothing but rest your weight on the vanity as he uses you. you’re at his mercy, your body reacting with a mixture of pain and pleasure, despite being used like a mere toy. he leans in, lips brushing against your ear, whispering, “such a naughty little slut, aren’t you?” 

he nips at your earlobe, making you whimper. “i bet you’re loving every second of this, aren’t you?” unable to form a coherent sentence, you can only let out a desperate nod. if you haven’t fully succumbed to chigiri hyoma yet, you sure have now.

he grabs your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look at him, “eyes on me while you’re taking my dick.” that same hand then runs down to your pussy, giving it a harsh slap. “or do i have to teach this doll some manners?”

you can barely think straight, whimpering a strained “no” between moans. desperate to keep him inside you, to keep him pleasuring you. pleased with your fucked-out expression, his fingers find your clit once again, this time to rub it in time with his thrusts.

the added stimulation sends your spiraling. your body tensing as you feel your orgasm build inside you. you throw your head back, moaning loudly, uncaring about whether anyone hears you anymore.

chigiri watches you intensely while his breathing becomes more ragged. he knows you’re close, he so desperately wants to see you come undone beneath him. he increases the pressure on your clit, fingers moving faster, and his thrusts more erratic.

you can hold back anymore. with a scream, you finally come on his cock, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. chigiri continues his brutal assault on your pussy, drawing out your orgasm as long as possible.

finally, with a deep groan, he comes, his dick twitching as he releases inside you. your insides getting hot as his seed fills you up. he pulls out, his dick coated with your arousal as he watches his cum ooze out of you.

he runs his fingers down your folds, collecting some of the cum before tasting it on his tongue. satisfied with his work, he unties you, letting you clean yourself up.

“i have another performance next week, same time. i expect to see you there.” you tease as you fix your outfit back in place, running off the moment you seem presentable again.

he chuckles at your words. it seems you’ve earned yourself a new loyal patron.

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[arafilez]

AFTER NEW YEAR ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ — ﹙ C.SN ﹚

WHERE to on the night of 1st Jan ㅤ,ㅤ to an empty café !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( san x reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ barista au, strangers to ??, pg13 ㅤ oneshotㅤ warnings n.a. ㅤ⋆ ( 1k ) ㅤ❟❟ㅤ dear @biaswreckme i'm your secret santaㅤ .ㅤ library ㅤ atz shelfㅤ navi

The doorbell rings as San looks up at a figure slowly entering the shop when he is about to close up. He considers for a moment to tell the person it is closed but thinking back about how the sells have been for the day he decides to keep it open.

You look around the quiet café spotting the guy who is currently staring at you and feel awkward knowing perfectly the cause of his weird staring. Which person on their right minds come to a café on the 1st night of January?

People are flooding clubs and bars and here you are, walking in a small café with cottage-core aesthetic painted on the walls. You stand still, knowing there is a guy wanting to take your order but something is making you be more awkward than usual.

“Uhm, your order?” you snap out of your trance when a voice interrupts you as you stare at him. The awkwardness increases as he licks his lips and then hurriedly adds, “Ma’am.”

“Sorry, right a café latte please and the Christmas tree shaped donut,” you hurriedly reply as he nods and starts typing in the register and you stand in the warm air inside. San keeps stealing glances at you fiddling on the paying app on your phone before he types out and hands you the final bill and moves to the back to make your coffee.

You quietly pay and move to the back and sit down in one of the swiveling chairs. A few moments later you see your order slide across to you making you look up at him. San stares back for a moment before slipping into the chair opposite to you much to your surprise.

“Hi, I am Choi San,” he smiles and you stay quiet for a while before your brain kicks in and you reply, “Oh, hi I am y/n.” the air goes back to being awkward as you quietly sip on your coffee while San looks around to the walls he has grown sick of seeing.

Your eyes slowly go up to his face, making out his chiseled jaw and cat-like eyes and you had to admit the guy sitting in front of you was gorgeous. You stare shamelessly for a while, blindly munching on your donut and thinking what such a handsome guy like him was working in a café on a new-year night.

“So what brings you here on a new year night?” you jump lightly hearing his voice and look up at San’s eyes which are as wide as they can be. He was not expecting to blurt it out himself as he stutters out, “No, I mean-“

“Felt better than half-binging something while lying on my bed,” you reply nodding your head and point at the donut as you continue, “This is really good.” San nods wordlessly as you continue, “Very cliché? Okay fine, I partied last night and tonight I was just too tired today.”

You stop, wondering if you have overshared, which you probably have but you don’t care anymore as you continue, “You?” San blinks for a while before replying, “Me? I just like working.”

“So much that you are even working on new-year night?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself making him chuckle. He nods lightly replying, “Just a second.”

You watch him get up, bring out a snowman shaped donut from the display and bite it before he comes back and sits down again. “Yes, I like working that much, also I don’t want to party without my friends and they all are not available.”

“Both of our stories are pretty cliché, isn’t it?” you laugh as he replies, “Hey, not everyone’s year starts with a party.”

“True,” you nod before the silence falls again but this time it takes a comfortable hue inside the warm café. Your mind half wonders on the fact if you should take his number frankly because the guy is too cute but then again you think he probably has someone. Then it bounces onto the fact that maybe he doesn’t and that is why he is working on a café on the 1st night of January.

“Why did you come to this café?” San asks feeling a bit stupid instantly as he realises probably other cafés are not even open. You answer exactly what he is thinking- “Other cafés around here are not open.”

“Makes sense,” he replies, feeling the embarrassment flow in his veins as you watch his face get redder with each passing second. “Do you always get this much red?” you giggle as his face gets into another state of shock for the nth time that night and he nods quickly.

“Usually when I am very drunk or when well, I ask stupid questions,” he blabbers before poking his donut which seems like the most interesting thing in the world.

You murmur out “cute” hoping he didn’t catch it before sipping on your almost finished latte. San gets up after a while, putting his money in the registrar and cleaning as you bite on the remaining donut crumbs before getting up. He watches you wordlessly as you clean your hands with a napkin before voluntarily asking, “Are you a regular?”

You look at the slight red face of the guy with the tiniest ray of hope in your mind. He smiles back and you find yourself biting your tongue feeling shy as you tap your feet and look down. Looking up you find him still smiling and decide to give him an answer sufficing for now anyways.

“Not yet,” you smile a little and then nod replying, “See you again, Choi San.” He nods back grinning at the ‘yet’ as he watches you go out the door with a little skip on your step. He bobs his head lightly to the background music of the café as he does the final closing of everything. Start of a new year with a little hope in find, of everything, and maybe you in there somewhere.

Maybe he did well picking on the last shift!

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ hi, so i don't know how much of this worst piece of writing you will like, uhm idk you a lot, but stalking your profile i came up with piece i hope you will like. actually this is my first time even writing a barista au i don't usually write those. i hope you have a very great year of 2025. i was really happy to be your secret santa !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( TAGLIST ) ㅤ𓂃ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

@haneagerr @aaa-sia @yeosayang

@weird-bookworm @gong-fourz @lucid-galaxys-world

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[blackdollette]

"roses in between my thighs." | spencer reid

honeymoon. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: your body was a temple, which could explain why spencer was on his knees...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords

⊹₊⋆ pairing: female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 684

⊹₊⋆ contents: smut, cunnilingus, spencer cumming his pants while he gives you head (yum!)

you had him in this position for hours, pathetically on his knees with his head buried deep in between your thighs, but it didn't seem like he was going to grow tired anytime soon.

your legs were spread with him sitting on the floor between them, his tongue lapping hungry licks up and down your sticky slit. he let out soft whimpers as you tugged on his hair, signalling for him to continue his hypnotic motions.

he moved against the mattress a little, desperate for even the slightest amount of friction against his clothed, aching cock. without a doubt, he would've been touching himself by now if both his hands weren't occupied, kneading your plush flesh as he feasted on the honey between your legs.

little praises would spill from your lips from time to time, granting him the approval that he hadn't even known he had been thirsting for. "y-yeah... just like that, spence... so good.." your words gave him the slightest boost of confidence, leading him to slip two fingers into your wet folds, the slick sound that emitted from your walls summoning a low groan from his sodden lips.

he'd whisper little things in between desperate licks. "you taste so good..." he'd say as he moved his hips into the mattress, whimpering softly as he provided minimal pleasure to his rock-hard bulge.

just the thought of him being able to touch you this way would be enough to send him off the edge, so being granted the privilege of having his face stuffed into your thighs was an experience that no words could describe.

the audible squelches and squirts that your cunt let out sent blood rushing through your veins, along with his simultaneously. he lapped up all your liquids, pumping his fingers in and out of you at a pace that was quickening up rapidly. you pulled his hair as your moans started to become more frequent.

spencer felt his body burn up as the image of you cumming all over his face flickered in his mind. he so badly wanted to be drenched in your liquids. frankly, this whole experience was such torturous bliss for him, for there was now an unmistakable sticky, white puddle smearing across the crotch of his pants.

you rolled your hips slightly into spencer's touch as you felt yourself nearing an overwhelming climax. your clit began to pulsate as you felt blood rushing through your body. spencer lived for the feeling of being used for you, of being nothing more than your sex toy. "...c'mon, baby... use me..." he pleaded into your pussy, strings of spit and cum connecting his lips to yours.

there was a knot rapidly forming in your stomach, growing bigger as each second passed. spencer, using his extensive knowledge of the female body, sensed your orgasm growing near from a mile away and couldn't help but lose himself in your soft, warm body, drinking up every drop of liquid that you produced. he curled his fingers inside of you, beginning to abuse the squishy sweet spot deep in your core.

he felt his restrained cock starting to throb as the sweet sound of your moans filled the room. his fingers reached the perfect spot inside of you, making the knot snap.

you cried out as your orgasm tore through you like a raging flood, spencer stuck his tongue into your hole to get every drop of cum that came out of you. at the same time, spencer's body grew unbearably hot, and before he knew it, he found himself about to cum as well, completely untouched.

he moaned into your pussy as cum leaked out his cock, ruining his already stained pants. the vibrations that came out of his mouth only intensified your orgasm. his head was getting crushed by your thighs like there was no tomorrow. at this moment, he couldn't be happier. for all he cared, this was paradise.

his body trembled as he felt the tension in his pants loosening just a little, his cock finally softening after countless hours of torture. you pulled his head away from your cunt, panting heavily as you sat up to look at him, a few renegade beads of sweat trickling down your forehead. your half-lidded eyes, glistening complexion, and glossed-over, parted lips were all it took to summon yet another erection. great.

you looked down and saw the large wet stain on his pants. you couldn't believe it. you didn't think it would take so little to make his body react in such a way. you had barely even laid a finger on him. "had an accident, spence..?" you laughed, and he just rolled his eyes with a shit-eating grin plastered across his dripping face.

author's note: recycling my old fics??? scandalous!

[itsmealaiahh]

"Much Needed Release"

TW: tom being pussymuncher69, pussy eating, clit stimulation, minor profanity, some angst in the beginning, head (fem rec obviously), praise, some overstimulation, somnophilia

Request: older Tom X younger petite reader. reader had a bad day and Tom was tired of hearing abt how bad she was being treated. when r (reader) went upstairs for a nap, Tom woke her up with his face in between her thighs. He makes r cum A TON! Yea. Thx baeee!

IM ACK 😚😚`😚😚😦😦😦 NON T DEAD

Rating: under 15 dni!! explicit situations lie ahead!!

"I hate weekdays"

You complained to tom the minute you walked through the door, tired and spent from the hellish day you had just went through. It just wouldn't stop! The terrible treatment from certain co-workers, and even your boss was unbearable, to say the least.

Each day, you always came home, your mood miserable, and tom wanted to fix it. He was honestly getting a little bit annoyed at how every day at your officeplace was going. Why were your co-workers so rude towards you? Hell, why was even your boss so rude? He was sure you hadn't done anything to warrant the treatment. You were sweeter than anyone he had ever met, and it took a lot to get you angry or upset.

He wanted to help you out and give you a break from the tough week, but how so? You would surely fall asleep during a movie or an activity where you both just sat on the couch together, so how could he possibly help? He didn't notice you were no longer in the living room until he snapped out of his thoughts, and he knew you were taking a nap. He could try to..no.

That would be wrong, and quite frankly, disgusting, unless...

Tom made his way to the bedroom, seeing you napping on his pillow, your body covered by the duvet. Quietly closing the door behind him, he padded over to the mattress where you slept, picking the covers off. His eyes widened just a bit at seeing your underwear the only thing that you were wearing, and his cock twitched in his pants, slowing coming to life. His lips parted a bit, his tongue swiping over his bottom one as he gazed over your sleeping frame, drinking you in fully.

The more he looked, the more turned on he became, his member now straining almost painfully against the restraint of his pants. He pulled the covers over himself, stripping you of your remaining clothes, throwing them to the side; your precious cunt now exposed.

He groaned a little at the sight, placing a gentle lick on your clit before delving into your pussy. His hands held your hips down as you squirmed every now and then in your sleep, letting out little whines as well. He closed his eyes, lapping up and down your core, ravishing your taste on his tongue.

"so fucking sweet" he murmured, his tongue flicking up and down your little bud occasionally, working wonders on you. More moans and other small noises escaped you, slowly coming to from your sleep. Tom didn't see your eyes opening up as he continued to bury his face into your pussy, now sucking tastefully on your clit. You let out a loud moan, your vision no longer blurry. Your legs wrapped around tom's head, squeezing just a bit. You didn't have any time to adjust, your body overcome with pleasure.

Breathing in slowly, you met eyes with tom, who looked up at you with a grin, his beard glistening with your juices. "w-what are you doing?" You questioned, pulling yourself upright with your elbows. "Well" he started, giving another small lick to your core, before going back to speaking. "You had a rough day, so I wanted to make it better. Just sit and relax and let me please you, okay baby? I'll make it worth your while"

You laid back down with a sigh, enjoying the feeling of tom's tongue lapping insistently at your pussy. The tongue was a very wet and strong organ, and having tom's on your core? Fucking heaven. Your legs squeezed his head again, not too rough to cut off air supply, just enough to let him know how good you were feeling. "You like that baby? My tongue on this pretty little pussy?" He smirked. You nodded, giving another small whimper. Your hips bucked up against his mouth, already giving way to your orgasm. "To-tom"

Many, many, many, delicious orgasms later, and now you and tom were snuggled up together in bed, his hand stroking your hair softly. After being so spent from simply his tongue, he was calming you down and letting you go back to sleep, no more tricks up his sleeve for the rest of the night. He was going to let you get some much needed rest, and he'd try to convince you to stay home tomorrow so you could regroup and hopefully ease up from all of the tension your work was putting on you. But that was for tomorrow, right now, it was just about you and him, snuggled up together, happy and content.

also sorry jordan if this isn't what you wanted pookie lmk if you want some diff and i'll try to fix it 😋😋😋

[bunniesanddeer]

Hate (Alastor x Reader)

Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).

Obviously minors, DNI.

I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol

Hate

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.

Word Count: 3,818

You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.

You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.

Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.

Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face? 

Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to. 

It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.

When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you. 

“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”

But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed. 

“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”

You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants. 

“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled. 

“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”

Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”

You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.

When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way. 

So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour. 

Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator. 

Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.

It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in. 

With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass. 

You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you. 

Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed. 

It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure. 

You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.

“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?

“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it. 

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.

“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”

He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this. 

“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.” 

One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip. 

“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.

“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”

You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell). 

“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded. 

“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”

Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine. 

“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer. 

You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud). 

“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else. 

His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises). 

Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched. 

“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control. 

“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder. 

“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”

He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near. 

“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head). 

“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”

Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry. 

“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”

You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression. 

“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”

His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again. 

His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected. 

A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”

His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it. 

One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly. 

You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again. 

The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.

“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle. 

His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”

You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”

You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets. 

That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more. 

“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.

“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall. 

Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting. 

When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”

Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.” 

You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades. 

You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.

“I hate you,” you tell him. 

His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”

“This changes nothing,” you say. 

And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”

Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(

[zvdvdlvr]

— The Line.

— Synopsis. Frank’s A-Okay with being anything you want him to be.

— Warnings. Smut. Oral sex (female recipient). Fuck buddies? Idk.

Your relationship with Frank was- quite frankly- a situation. He’d call you if he needed sex or someone to dick around with at the bar, to go beat up some scumbags that didn’t deserve the breath in their lungs or have a conversation.

Frank tried to keep his feelings out of the mix, choosing to straddle the line between fuck buddies and something more.

Liquor blurred the line.

Cum drenched Frank’s face as you ground down on his awaiting mouth. Your clit brushed deliciously over Frank’s broken nose, making a broken moan slip through your lips. Sharp pain flared from Frank’s scalp as you tugged his head, pussy overstimulated from the constant assult from Frank’s magical fucking tongue.

“Shit, Frankie,” you warbled, leaning your forhead on the cool wall in front of you, letting Frank guide your hips. “Might make me pass out.”

Frank grumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘won’t keep me from this cunt’. His wide hands gripped the flesh of your ass with a bruising force. “One more, y/n. Gimme another one, girl,” he rasped, lapping at your folds as if he hadn’t been eating you out like a man starved for the past half hour.

As much as you wanted to whine, tears streamed down your face as you let Frank lead you to yet another orgasm. The coil built and twisted in your gut, molten list solidifying as Frank made it his personal goal to make you cum. Again.

“Oh fuck, Frank, fuck. I’m cumming, don’t stop,” you repeated breathlessly. That egged Frank on, pulling you even further into him, clit harshly grinding on Frank’s misshapen nose. “Fuck, right there, Frankie!”

Frank hummed and let your hips buck on his face, letting you ride out your orgasm. “Atta girl,” he murmured. “Knew you had another for me.”

As Frank collected your melted limbs and layed you next to him, he watched your nipples disappear and reappear through the thin material of Frank’s shirt as your chest heaved. “You alrigh’?”

“Mm,” you replied, a shaky hand raising to pat down the sweat-soaked baby hair.

Your eyes fluttered shut. Frank took the opportunity to shift his cum-soaked boxers. You looked amazing post orgasm, face slack and cheeks flushed. Even the cheap neon light from a bar down the street made you look like Frank could part your thighs once more. “Still got my shit here?” Frank asked, thumb brushing a lone tear from your cheek.

“You know it,” you replied. Frank felt your hooded eyes follow his movement. He slipped out of your bed and ambled over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats in his size. After slipping out of his boxers and brushing his teeth and cleaning up, he pulled on the oversized pants and brought a washcloth with warm water to clean you up since Frank knew you didn’t want to get up.

After removing the towel and discarding the washcloth, Frank crawled over you and kissed you. His tongue tasted like you. Your opened your mouth to him, letting your tongue dance with his. Whiskey tainted your breath, mixing with the taste of your cum- something disgusting and gross that Frank wanted to taste forever.

He was playing a dangerous game and he knew it: letting you have your way with him and acting like a couple for a night before going back to acquaintances as if nothing had happened. Frank’s hand tangled in your hair as you wrapped a leg around his waist. A groan- yours?- filled the air as Frank pressed his hips into your core. “Goddamnit, girl. Y’gotta tell me what you want,” Frank muttered between kisses, letting you run a hand down his scarred chest.

“You, Frank. Always you.”

[pomefioredove]

i crave angst and hurt/comfort/fluff maybe something like that with vil? maybe reader gets hurt pretty badly or something and vil gets upset?? hehe angsty scenarios>>

on my hands and knees rn... vil... save me vil...

summary: anger is an ugly emotion type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, angsty..... mentions of bullying/abuse etc?? very open ended you can interpret that how you please, GOD this is indulgent

Anger is an ugly emotion.

So much is true even for Vil Schoenheit. If you asked him, there is nothing more undignified than losing your composure in front of others, especially those under your care.

No, Vil keeps such emotions to himself. If he feels the need to get a point across, or to settle a conflict, he will do so with grace and dignity. He won't even break a nail.

This is different.

This is seeing you turn away from him with tears in your eyes, and feeling as if the very world itself is crashing down around him.

He cannot stand it.

He cannot stand seeing you like this.

It shakes him to his very core. You've had bad days, evenings where you come crawling into Pomefiore looking as if the world had chewed you up and spit you back out at his feet, and he's tended to it.

He's combed your hair, cleaned the dirt out from under you nails, bandaged your paper cuts with a sort of gentleness he doesn't even reserve for himself, made you look new and whole again.

Vil can't help with this.

It drives him mad. It makes him feel like he's stuck inside his own ribcage with nothing but the sound of his beating heart, trapped in a flurry of confusion and anxiety.

He wishes you would just talk about it. It would make everything so much easier if you would let him help.

But he won't pressure you. He couldn't bring himself to. And, quite frankly, if he knew even the slightest detail about whomever had been making you feel this way, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop himself from finding them and mincing them to shreds.

As they deserved.

But Vil is not one to rush into anything. He is patient, cordial, taking his sweet time to understand a problem from all angles before enacting a solution.

And so, he doesn't ask.

He holds your chin between his delicate fingers and dabs at the corners of your eyes, hoping to brush away your misery along with your tears.

You sniffle. It's not a pretty sight- you're certainly no graceful crier.

He couldn't care less.

The only thing that Vil can think of now is how only one measly person could be your undoing.

After everything you've been through without even breaking a sweat, all it took were a few too-familiar words to melt you into a pool of bad memories and misery at his feet.

Sevens help whichever poor fool had done this to you.

"Now, now. That's alright," he coos, wiping your cheeks just as a new barrage of tears runs down them. "Don't worry about a thing."

You just barely manage to choke out a response. "I'm sorry, this is- this is embarrassing,"

"Nonsense. You have nothing to feel bad for. I promise I won't utter a word of this to the others,"

He cups your face in his palms, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

"Deep breaths," he instructs. "Seven seconds in, hold it, for just a moment, and then seven seconds out. There. Excellent job."

It's quiet. The sound of sobs and his own heart pounding seem to fade into quiet breaths shared between the both of you.

"Good," he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. A repetitive, soothing motion. "How do you feel?"

"Guilty," you say. "I didn't mean to ruin your evening."

"You've ruined nothing. You're very important to me, you know. I would never want you to think I'm too busy for you," he offers a smile. "Now, how do you feel?"

You're quiet for a moment, likely mulling over his words. Your voice is softer when you reply. "Tired,"

"Oh... you poor thing. I can't have you dead on your feet tomorrow, now, can I?"

You shake your head.

He stands, pulling you up with him. "Come along, then. Let's get you to bed. I'll help,"

He begins guiding you away from the couch you'd spent the better half of the evening sobbing on. You respond in a quiet voice.

"Vil?"

"Mm? Yes?"

"You promise you won't say anything about this to the others?"

A look of utter softness crosses his face at your request, and he smiles again. "My lips are sealed,"

[simp-for-mystery]

Young justice - Ride or Die

I love Jason Todd, but you're telling me that after everything he did to Tim, the rest of the Core four did nothing???!! They are Tim's ride or dies and, quite frankly, completely unhinged in the comics. They stood by and did nothing? I refuse to believe they didn't make Jason's life a living hell as revenge.

Jason: WHY ARE YOU GIVING UP ALL MY SAFE HOUSES TO VILLAINS?!

Kon,Cassie and Bart chilling and posting his personal phone online: Cuz we hate you. Praying for your downfall, King.

I refuse to believe it 😤 The bare minimum is them backing up every crazy plan Tim has and guilt tripping Jason into joining them.

Jason: That is a terrible idea and I am never-

Them holding back fake tears: You hurt Robin! Do you even regret it?!

Jason now feeling the guilt but refusing to admit it: Yeah so I'll just take this and you tell me what to do via coms. Cool? Cool.

I will even take the Petty ignoring he exists even in life or death stakes.

Batman: Due to the alien species that is currently about to destroy the entire timeline being one encountered by the Outlaws before, we will defer to them.

Jason: First thing is first we need to take anything that is even remotely metal off-

Bart raising his hand and looking at Batman until he is acknowledged: So when are we getting told what to do?

Cassie nodding along: Yeah Roy or Kori really need to start talking. This is a serious matter.

Kon: Yeah we should really get on that and figure out why we keep hearing the MOST ANNOYING screeching in the universe 😒 instead of a brief.

Like my friend gets LOOKED at a bit off and I'm ready to go feral??!!!

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.6k / 19 / same continuity as TF141's free use medic

...

Soap steps inside the makeshift saferoom with you and slams the door behind him. He looks down at you, his eyes hot and aggressive from combat moments before. You'd heard him loose all kinds of insults and frankly brutal threats on the enemy soldiers after they'd almost managed to get ahold of you. Even now, with both of you relatively safe and the room clear, you know the adrenaline will take time to run its course in his system.

He sees the look you're giving him. "What?" he snaps. "Got a problem? Want me a little less loose with my tongue? Maybe you ought to be, considering all the things I could say right now."

You set your jaw, patience short. "Yeah? Say it."

"Well," he says, "let's say I think it's bloody embarrassing that you've been acting like a moody little twat ever since we left the bird."

You cross your arms. "Yeah? So what?"

"So I think you should stop acting like a goddamn child before you make me put you over my knee."

nsfw ⬇

"You're the one who wanted to come this way. I told you not to."

"And I said that I was coming anyway," he snaps, leaning closer to you so that your faces are only a few inches apart. "I'm startin' to think that might've been a mistake."

You stand your ground against him, hot, self-righteous anger simmering under your skin. "What was your first fucking clue?"

"I think the real question," Johnny says, his temper rising as well, "is why I still waste my time on the likes of you."

"Because all you care about is getting your dick wet," you snap. "And you're too lazy to buy a fucking fleshlight."

His head snaps back a little at your reply. His expression darkens. "And all you care about is making people miserable just because you're so goddamn miserable yourself, huh?"

"Yeah. That must be it." You can't deny the spark this is lighting in your gut, either. It's like you need the catharsis.

His eyes travel slowly over your body before he leans back a little, looking you up and down. His expression is still murky, but there's something like interest there. "So you're just gonna stand there and talk like that? Is that what you want to do?"

"Depends," you snap. "Are you just gonna let me keep baiting you, or are you gonna shut me up?"

His expression seems to grow more intense for a few seconds, and then, without warning, his hand tangles in your hair and his mouth presses against yours. He kisses you roughly, aggressively, groping you roughly under your uniform.

You growl into his mouth, feeling his hands on you. It's rough, but you want it rougher. "Is that all?" you hiss. "Do you even want to fuck?"

"That all you want me for?" he barks. He grabs your wrists and pulls you in close. His eyes flick up and down your body, taking in every curve, before he leans down again and whispers roughly in your ear. "And let's not get it twisted here," he adds, his voice low. "Much as I like it when you act like a little tease, I came here to fuck you. So shut up and let me do it how I want."

Before you can retort, he grabs your waist hard and pushes you against the wall. He slides one hand into your uniform, grinding the heel of his palm against your core. You groan through gritted teeth.

He chuckles. "That's more like it."

With his free hand, he grabs your chin and pulls your head back so he can meet your eyes again. "Tell the truth," he says, breathing hard. "Are you being a brat on purpose so I'll be rougher with ya?"

You feel yourself get wet immediately at that and press your thighs together. "Maybe."

The corner of his mouth twitches. "You really are a fucking troublemaker, aren't you?" He suddenly releases your chin and jerks the neckline of your uniform down, exposing your breasts and nearly tearing the fabric as he kneels down between your legs. Your breath hitches as he starts suckling on your nipple, eliciting a whimper from you.

"Soap, we... we don't have much time."

He hums around your nipple, pulling it gently. "Don't you dare go changin' your tune now, hen," he warns, his voice like gravel. "Not when you were just beggin’ for it so hard." He undoes your pants and slides his hand back in, reaching for your panties and ripping them aside. He slides two fingers inside you, and you gasp. "Not when you're already so fucking wet."

He works you over until you're arching into him, your knee tucked under his arm and the soft flesh of your tits pressed into his teeth.

He smiles wickedly. "Oh, I thought ye were a brat, but now..." He licks along the tendons in your neck, moving up to your mouth. "Now I think you're openin' right up for me." He kisses you deeply, his tongue pushing past your lips. His fingers move faster, his need driving him faster and rougher.

The comm on your neck crackles to life. You bite down on a moan just in time to hear Graves' voice in your ear. The static jolts you back to awareness. You're standing in a dark room, mid-mission, coming apart in Soap's hands.

"This is Shadow 0-1," Graves says. "Encountering trouble reaching rendezvous point." There's a beat of silence as you bite your lip, not trusting yourself to speak. "... Do you copy?"

Soap's fingers slow but don't still inside you. "Copy that, Shadow 0-1. Anyone hurt?"

"Negative," Graves replies. "Just finding an alternative route. Assuming you two are making your way just fine. How's our little medic?"

You see deep irritation flash through Soap's eyes when Graves says that. You're not sure why Graves gets such satisfaction out of flirting with you in front of your team. You just know Soap's nerves are raw and his patience is razor-thin at this point in the mission.

"I'm fine," you say quickly. "We're close to the rendezvous point. How long will you be?"

"Not long at all, sweetheart," Graves replies. You hate that your cheeks heat up immediately.

"We'll be there in ten minutes,” Soap interject, sharp and strained. He glares at you. "And we'll be keepin' our voices low."

Your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Graves chuckle lightly over the comm. “Understood. She's in good hands, right, Soap?”

Soap switches his comm off, muttering something about that bloody fuckin' idiot under his breath. Then he shifts his focus back to you.

"Soap--"

"Felt you clench up just then. Don't act like you didn't."

You ignore that, pushing on his shoulders even though he doesn't budge. "We should keep going. We need to stay focused."

His grip only tightens around you. "Focus, my arse."

He shoves his fingers into you roughly again. You cry out in surprise, your head hitting the wall behind you as your body spasms. He redoubles his speed. Your hands hit the wall, almost climbing it in your haste to regain some semblance of control. Your thighs clench and twitch with the sudden, intense pleasure his rough fingertips send through your every nerve ending.

Soap's voice is hot on your chest. "Still likin' this, hm?" His fingers drag your inner walls tortuously. "Still want to cum?"

Yeah, and you hate how close he has you to cumming already. You've been too fucking pent up. Dealing with Soap's bullshit, even when he's not inside you, just makes it worse.

He starts to slow down and you buck your hips into him impatiently. You reach for his belt, but he pushes your hand away. You curse and slide your hand to your clit instead. "Let me cum on your cock already," you grit out. You're not sure what's making you more desperate to finish--your body's urges or the urgency in the front of your mind to get to the rendezvous point.

"I wouldn't want to do that," Soap murmurs against your shoulder, his breath warm and ragged. "Not until I'm good and ready." A smirk seeps into his voice as he rubs deeper, grinding against your clit as you're trying to work it yourself. The pleasure jolts through you like lightning, and you bite back another cry. "You don't call the shots here, hen. I do." 

"You're not my--" Your protests are cut off by a gasp as he thrusts hard again, driving you closer to the edge. 

"Might have a whole team to patch up once we get there," he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe. "They'll need their medic back in tip-top shape, won't they?" 

He pulls out abruptly, leaving you panting and cursing.

"Soap-- fuck--"

As you struggle to catch your breath, Soap fixes your clothes. There's a dark look in his eyes and a smirk on his face. You know instantly he was waiting until he felt you on the very edge of your orgasm--could feel your walls tightening up on his finger--before pulling out. He wanted to get you that close to the edge and leave you frustrated.

He refastens the last buttons on your shirt and leans in close to your ear again. "Next time, don't engage with that asshole." He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "But don't worry... I'll take care of you later. Let's move out. Wouldn't want to keep your man Graves waiting."

...

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[dinsbeskar]

[Never] Sleep Alone (Sauron/F!Reader)

Sauron’s obsession with you knows no bounds. He claims you, body and soul, in your waking and dreaming, so now it seems only right he takes what is his.

Can be read solo, can be read alongside my In The Dark series // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Sleep Alone by Bat For Lashes, Closer by Nine Inch Nails (that song is so Sauron coded!!), Oral Hex by Bludnymph (I've listened to nothing but horny EDM for a week)

Warnings: 18+ only!!! Smut!! Consensual Non Consent (CNC). S*mmo k!nk: he fucks you while you're asleep, but there is consent in place. Toxic relationship tbh, they're a little codependent/obsessed with one another. But also v soft, toothache soft. P in V sex, oral sex (female receiving), male masturbation, cockwarming, bodily fluids, creampie, maybe a lil breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, a little emotional manipulation (it's Sauron so??)

A/N: idek guys. I'm a sleepy girl, and I've been listening to s*mmo audio, this kinda just happened. But it does seem like a natural escalation, considering I've written Sauron as stalking you, and claiming you in your dreams. So tbh this isn't that far of a stretch. However I will not be offended if you guys nope out, totally fine!!! But I will not do the whole kinkshaming thing, sorry we're not here for it. Don't like, don't read! :) okay enjoy!

thesaurus.com my beloved, how many different words can we find for sleep lmfao

Word Count: 3k!

He loves watching you sleep.

And sometimes he follows you there, into your dreams.

But sometimes he just lies awake beside you, gazing at your sleeping form, prone and vulnerable, his alone to protect and worship.

When you wake, you usually feel the weight of his gaze on you, the warmth of his body pressed against you, but lately Sauron has taken to rising before you, depriving you of morning cuddles, which frankly will not do.

"Where did you go?" You ask him softly, as he climbs back into bed after much pleading on your part.

"What do you mean, love?" He replies, brow furrowed, as he kisses your shoulder, rubbing your back in slow circles.

"In the mornings, when you abandon me to a cold bed, where do you go? What could possibly be more important than your wife's comfort?" You turn over to face him, meeting his gaze.

"Does it matter, my love? I always come back if you call." He tries to handwave your question away, but his evasion only makes you more curious.

"No, really, I need to know, what are you doing that cannot wait until I rise?"

He huffs an exasperated sigh, still running his hands over your bare skin, trying to avoid your gaze.

"Please. While you're here, I want you all to myself, I don't want you leaving me without forewarning me." You hate how needy he makes you, how desperate for his presence you are.

He regards you for a moment with that intense stare that makes your toes curl, and you feel him on the edges of your mind, feeling you out for whatever he has to tell you.

"You can tell me, after all this time, there are no secrets between us." You are starting to get concerned now, what could it possibly be?

"I love you. So much, unbearably so sometimes. My affection for you knows no bounds, and if it were possible..." he trails off, studying you for your reaction, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows nervously.

You can't help but beam, your smile spreading wide and lighting up your whole face. You know how he feels about you, because you feel exactly the same way. Emboldened by your radiance, he continues.

"If it were possible, my lust for you is so many times greater." There is a glint in his eye now that thrills you to your core, as you realise that perhaps it would have been less dangerous to leave it well alone.

"And when you're asleep, my love, wandering your dreams without me at your side, I cannot help but want to be close to you." He draws closer to you, every firm plane of his body pressed against you, fingers softly tracing your curves as you shiver under his gentle touch.

"I cannot resist you. I have tried, but you defeat me every time." You raise your eyebrows at his words, still a little confused, but your cheeks grow hot at his flattery all the same.

"You are so close to me, so vulnerable to my gaze, to my touch," he punctuates every pause with a kiss to your neck, forcing your eyes to flutter shut, listening to his confession.

"And if I wanted to have my way with you, to ravish you while you sleep, I could do so." Your eyes fly open, meeting his pitch black gaze, as goosebumps arise at the nape of your neck, heat pooling in your abdomen.

"But I resist." His heartbeat matches yours, racing in tandem as he edges closer to revealing his nightly activities.

"I take myself in hand, and imagine it's you instead."

Your heart pounds as you slowly realise what he might be asking for, your thighs rubbing together in anticipation.

"Your hand, your mouth, your hot wet cunt. But nothing compares to you, my love, imagination can only take me so far." His eyes are dark, pupils blown, as he grinds his cock against your ass.

"It is to thoughts of you that I fuck my own hand, yearning for your touch, unable to wait until morning when you rejoin me in waking."

"And that is where you go? Why do you not wake me, love, if you suffer so?" Your heart aches at the thought of your husband so deeply bereft, even with you by his side.

"Not always." He kisses your neck softly, stroking your side.

"Sometimes I lay next to you, breathing you in, inches from the very flesh I need to claim, spending my seed anywhere but inside you," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear, "where you deserve it."

Your breath hitches and the throbbing in your clit will no longer be ignored. You reach down to take the edge off, but he takes your hand and presses it to his lips with a tsk.

"If I cannot have you when I wish, you certainly cannot, my love."

You whine and squirm against him, but he holds you fast.

"So when you wake, I am simply making myself presentable to you, my darling, that is where I am when you're searching for me, still walking the line between dreams and reality."

The idea of your husband satisfying himself as you lie beside him, blissfully unaware, has you rocking against him softly, the familiar coiling sensation beginning in your abdomen as his words ignite your insatiable desire for him.

"It can be so... pitifully lonely, watching you slumber, my love, but I never wanted to burden you." He smirks against your neck, his hands beginning to roam across your body.

"It would never be a burden, you are my husband, I want to please you, as much as you please me." He works so hard for your pleasure, that it would be remiss of you not to reciprocate.

"You need your rest, beloved, you cannot not entertain me all hours of the night." He chuckles softly, probing your mind for the seed he has planted, nourishing it to fruition.

You ponder for a while, the blood rushing to your cheeks as you come upon a solution that sends bolts of arousal to your core.

"Perhaps... no, it is foolish, forget I said anything." You murmur, worried that he will think you depraved.

"What, my love? Come now, are we not one and the same soul? You can share anything with me." With you still facing away from him, he does not have to fix the expression on his face, a wicked mixture of glee and anticipation as his idea comes tumbling from your lips.

"Perhaps, you need not wake me. Perhaps, you do as you will. If I wake, then so be it, but I would not have you suffer unnecessarily, my love." You're sure your face is glowing, how red and hot it feels; you're glad you're facing away from him so he cannot see it.

His long pause has you rattled, and you're about to lose your nerve and tell him it was just a foolish notion, when-

"You would have me... defile you, while you sleep?"

You can hear his concern, his bewilderment, but you cannot see the glint in his eye, the dangerous delight that paints his handsome features.

"If it disgusts you, love, please think no more of it, forget I said a word." Shame begins to course through you, nausea building even as arousal pools in the pit of your stomach.

He pulls you close, nose in your hair, and breathes in deeply.

"I could never feel anything other than utter devotion to you, my sweet wife. You think only of me, and offer yourself freely. How could I feel anything but adoration?"

Your heart swells, reaching out for his, his love smothering you like a blanket, encompassing you in his warmth and devotion.

"We would need some kind of... signal. To let me know what you want when you cannot tell me yourself." He might want you wholly, body and soul, but he wants you to be a willing participant, even when dreaming.

You nod, musing on what could be the most obvious sign that you were happy to have him claim you while you slept.

"Perhaps, underwear on, I attend to my own affairs." He murmurs in your ear, pulling you ever closer. "However, underwear off, I can ravish you as I please?"

It's a question, technically, but he knows you will agree.

"That does seem simple enough, and one could not mistake any intentions with such a... deliberate sign." With his arms still wrapped around you, you are beginning to fall asleep, but you turn around as much as you're able, craning your neck to kiss him softly.

"I love you." He whispers into your kiss.

"I know." You smile, rubbing the tip of his nose with yours. "I love you too."

You roll over and allow him to cuddle you, pulling his arm over your body tighter, holding his hand until you fall asleep. He regards you all the while, eyes fond, cock hard.

~

He traces his hands over your sides, gently, so softly, so as not to disturb you. You need your rest after all.

He peels back the sheets delicately, and you fidget a little; he holds his breath, staying still for a moment, but you remain sound asleep. Thank the Valar you're a deep sleeper.

He breathes a sigh of relief, before pressing on with exactly what he wants to do to you.

The night is warm, so you're covered only by a gauzy nightgown, the fabric of which is so thin, he can already tell you've forgone underwear.

This is the answer he needed to the question he can't ask you while you slumber.

You had agreed that wearing nothing under your slip was the sign he was free to do as he wished with you.

He trails his fingers up your thighs to find your cunt is already wet and waiting for him. You must have come to bed thinking of him; the thought frankly makes him weak, makes him want to wake you and ravage you until the sun rises.

But he won't ruin the fantasy on the very first night, at least not intentionally.

He spreads your thighs, being careful not to jostle you too much, wanting to satisfy everything you spoke about, for you and for himself.

He's always loved the taste of you, and while he loves bringing you pleasure, the simple truth is he can't get enough of you, and would spend days between your thighs if you let him, for purely selfish reasons.

He noses your clit, drinking in your scent, flattening his tongue and devouring you whole. He delves into your folds, sucking at your clit, looking up occasionally to see if he has disturbed you. Thankfully you remain asleep, though for a moment he would appreciate your trembling thighs wrapped around his neck.

He wonders if he can bring you to orgasm while asleep; perhaps a goal for next time.

But he is achingly hard for you, having resisted touching himself as he savoured your cunt. He strokes his cock once, twice, then lines himself up with your entrance, still watching and waiting for you to wake, sure that you will.

Sauron is sure he has never been more aroused than this very moment, admiring the view of his sweet, trusting wife, so vulnerable beneath him, allowing him to do exactly as he wishes while she gets her valuable rest.

His fingers slip inside you so easily, it's as if he belongs there, and he quickly replaces them with his aching cock, the head running over your folds before slipping inside your tight wet heat.

He groans, perhaps a little too loud, but he cannot bring himself to care while he is buried to the hilt inside you. He grasps your hips and adjusts you slightly, sliding right in, his balls slapping at your skin. He tries, he really does try to keep quiet, but you move in your sleep, trying to roll over, and he moans, long and loud, from the added sensation of you tightening around him.

"I'm sorry, darling, did I wake you?" He whispers after pausing a moment, half hoping you won't respond.

You grumble a little, pressing your hips harder into his, but you seem to fall back to sleep while his hips have stilled.

He resumes rolling his hips, hesitant to fully plunge his cock into the depths of your cunt, rocking in and out of you as you clench around him.

He has to be so quiet, he doesn't want to disturb you, but he needs this, needs to fuck you senseless even while you're not awake, the depths of his lust for you seemingly endless.

The fact you were unperturbed by his confession only made him love you more, that his depravity was shared in the other half of his soul. And the way you offered yourself to him so freely; his heart always sang for yours, but at that moment, your song was all he could hear.

When he is fairly sure that you're peacefully asleep, he ruts into you once again, his cock painfully hard as he draws out his own pleasure to save your slumber.

You clench around him, your body used to his ministrations, responding to his touch almost as if you were awake.

The only noises that can be heard in your chambers are his own deep breathing and the soft, wet sounds of flesh on flesh as he pounds into you, reassured by your continued repose.

He feels his orgasm draw closer, heat in his belly that threatens to engulf him whole. He throws back his head and gasps, his balls drawing up, readying for his release, as he kneads your pliant flesh, relishing in your curves. He reaches up under your slip, cupping your breasts in his large hands, thumbs circling your nipples. At this point, he no longer cares if you wake, thrusting erratically inside you, leaning down to lick and nuzzle your neck, to breathe in your sweet scent.

Your throat bared, he has the urge to sink his teeth into your soft flesh, to wake you with the unearthly pleasure that his torture would provide. That urge pushes him over the edge, spurting inside you, his thighs shaking in the effort not to collapse on top of you.

It is your tiny whimpers that bring him back to the present. He props himself up on one hand to find your eyes wide open, a sleepy smile gracing your face.

He smirks, drawing you in for a languid kiss, before he resumes lazily rutting into you, cock still hard and weeping, still ravenous for any sliver of pleasure you will grant him.

You let out a moan as he hits the sweet spot inside you, your toes curling with pleasure. He cannot help but regard you fondly, your eyes screwed shut, as you try to keep up the ruse for him even now.

He leans down to kiss the tip of your nose, before drawing back to ravage your cunt the way he knows you like best, circling your clit with his fingers.

Angling his hips the way he knows will torture you best and playing your clit like the master musician he is, he brings you to the edge of orgasm before halting altogether. You whine and squirm and pull his hips into you, but he nips your ear in warning.

"Not yet, love, together." He urges you breathlessly.

In response, you clench your walls around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep within his chest.

"Please, love, please, come with me." You murmur, tracing the contours of his back, digging your fingernails into his smooth skin.

You can feel his peak approaching again, as his lips on yours become more desperate, his tongue delving into your mouth as if searching for the meaning of life in your body.

"That's it, sweet girl, come for me, come now." He groans; he fills you again, spending his seed exactly where you both want it as you clutch at his skin, the coil in your belly releasing in a blazing heat that renders you speechless.

"Good girl, you deserve it, don't you? My sweet wife, not a drop wasted," he smirks, claiming your lips again, swallowing your desperate moans.

He languidly rolls his hips against yours, guiding you through your orgasm as your thoughts continue to evade you, nothing in your head but the feeling of your husband inside you.

You both finally fall back against the pillows, sated for now. He moves to pull out of you but you hold him fast, slinging a leg over his and refusing to let his cock leave you empty. He chuckles and pulls you close, your head on his chest, his iron embrace so comforting after the exertion of the evening.

"How long were you awake?" He asks with an affectionate smile.

"How long did you know I was awake?" You respond with a playful smile, sleepily tracing his jaw.

He hums, conceding the point.

"We can always try again," you murmur, sleep coming to claim you swiftly.

"I'm sure we will." His heart is so full that it feels tender, as if one more soft word from you would shatter it to oblivion.

"Love you, more than anything," you whisper, as if on cue, as he can do nothing but hold you and feel his black heart ache for his impossible love of you, kissing you softly before nestling his face in your neck.

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

An Affair to Remember

Alright, let's get into Affair the Series, which has been giving me brainrot the past few weeks so feels like a good time to get into an analysis of why I find it so fascinating. Eventually I'd love to do a deeper dive into Thai GLs and that industry (that's a whole other thing though) but after having seen my share of them (Gap, Show Me Love, TSOU, The Loyal Pin) I've really found myself falling into the rabbit hole with Affair the Series and the way it depicts friendship, love, and acceptance.

Deep dive below and also thank you gif makers for your work 🙏🏽

(also will go over events from episodes 1-5, so spoilers ahead if not up-to-date)

So first off, I have read the novel, which is the first time I've finished one of those for a GL and quite frankly, the translation wasn't that great but the story still came through. I won't refer to it much and will base this on the show as I think they've done a fantastic job with the adaptation and fingers crossed continue to do so.

Where in most GLs the core conflict is external. The main couple can't be in love typically due to familial/cultural pressure or a man interfering (that still exists to an extent here) the main conflict in Affair is simply that Wan and Pleng love each other too much but they do so in different ways.

When we meet Wan and Pleng they're 17 years old and have spent their entire lives together. They're sisters but not and while Wan seems to have a social circle, Pleng really has no other friends outside of Wan. The spoiled rich girl and the maid's daughter. Couldn't be more different if they tried and yet by circumstance their lives are as intertwined as it gets.

At 17, they have different ideas for their futures. Pleng is musically talented, wins every contest and is financially set. She can live the life she wants. If she wants to be a musician then so be it. Her parents love and support her and there's no pressure. Wan on the other hand has an overbearing mother (and a resentful father), no prospects for her future but at least she has Pleng.

Despite her parents, Wan loves wholly and openly. She knows she loves Pleng and while she doesn't yet know it she does know that Pleng loves her too. I would argue that Wan truly knows herself, which is why she comes across as so self-assured in their younger years. She's slowly trying to guide Pleng to understand herself too.

Pleng, however, has never had to sit with her emotions in the same way. Take this as differences of personality, class and upbringing. Now that they're 17 and entering adulthood, Pleng has to start engaging with the world (and her emotions) rather than hiding behind the rich, insular lifestyle she's had up to this point.

As the idea of boyfriends comes up, Pleng starts to lash out. She's jealous, she's pushy but really she's just in love with her best friend and doesn't know it. Everything starts happening too fast. Wan meets a boy at an art gallery, Aunt Wi pushes Pleng to help Wan get with Ek, Pleng's dad is extremely stressed and she doesn't know to what extent and throughout that Pleng is dealing with her feelings that for some reason just won't go away. Feelings that Wan keeps bringing up in her over and over.

Pleng is a mess. She doesn't know how to connect with her peers, she knows something is wrong with her dad, she sees that Wan is seemingly moving forward in a way that she's not (dating a boy) and whether she realizes it she continues to isolate herself.

From Wan's perspective she couldn't care less about dating Ek. She's already completely devoted to Pleng (in ways that Pleng doesn't even know).

They're 17, hormonal, gay, and incapable of seeing each other's perspective. Wan wants Pleng to let her in. Pleng can't help but push everyone away.

As soon as Pleng starts to really come to terms with her feelings about Wan. That's when everything falls apart. Her dad kills himself, her mom goes into cardiac arrest, all of her family's assets are seized and she's now orphaned and staying with Wan's parents who clearly and vocally have no space for her. Pleng who was already struggling to find her footing before that fateful night now has absolutely nothing to stand on.

The break point is when Pleng finds out about Wan's academic achievements and that Wan had been hiding that truth about herself their entire lives. Wan has always been intelligent and capable but hidden herself behind a veil of ineptitude. Wan in loving Pleng puts her on a pedestal to her own detriment. She has no issue blighting her own light so that Pleng can shine but from the moment we meet 17 year old Pleng in the show we see her pushing Wan to better herself. Wan thinks loving Pleng means her own success doesn't matter whereas Pleng loves Wan and all of her potential.

They both love each selflessly but while Wan would burn the whole world to keep Pleng warm, Pleng loves Wan despite her own existence. So when Pleng leaves she writes,

"Your parents will feel at ease. And you'll finally get to live your life as your true self... I know you love me but I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are."

For Pleng, her leaving is the ultimate way to show her love to Wan. A clean break. She runs away so Wan can thrive but here's the thing Wan needs Pleng to keep her grounded. Pleng does too but she can't see it at this point. Too much has happened and so, in her desperation she removes herself. She is her father's daughter after all.

So when 13 years pass and Wan has spent that entire time holding on to whatever she can to keep herself close to Pleng (becoming a doctor, riding a bike to work, marrying Ek, separating herself from her parents); Pleng has become a ghost of herself. Wan has imbued herself with all the things she thinks/knows Pleng would like while Pleng is stuck in a cycle that she can't get out of: play music, make a bit of money, pay rent, rest, repeat.

Pleng never reaches out to Wan because why would she? Her loving Wan means staying away and on top of that there's a sense of shame of what her life has become.

So when they finally meet again it's too much. Wan is successful but she's still clearly in love with Pleng and while it was all Wan's doing, in a way her success is a direct result of Pleng's influence. In removing herself, Pleng slowly begins to realize not just that she took Wan's smile with her but the why and how. Wan's changed and devoid of the joy and innocence that Pleng loved most.

They slowly fall back into their natural rhythms but Pleng still can't accept her own presence in Wan's life. Wan is back to pushing (albeit more aggressively then before - time was wasted) and in pushing Pleng, Pleng pushes back. If they take their relationship that one step further, what then? What if it falls apart? Why not just stay in a cycle where nothing shifts? What if there's another ringing shot in the distance and everything changes in a moment?

If there's one core trauma to Pleng as a character it's her desperation to not feel like a burden to anyone. Especially Wan. And then she finds out that Wan (though separated) is still married to Ek and she can't accept that she could have ruined Wan's potential happiness. Not understanding that Pleng herself is Wan's happiness. Pleng feels like a disruption because at the root of it the thing she wanted above all for Wan, "I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are" is not something that Pleng accepts for herself.

I'll leave it there and hope the show navigates the situations that are about to come as well as they have so far but kudos as Affair manages to oh so gracefully skirt what could otherwise be an incredibly toxic relationship. Somehow they manage to give these two characters so much grace despite their flaws. And truly that's also a huge credit to Sonya and Lookmhee's abilities.

It's chaotic and messy but in coming back together these two might just realize that's how they both best shine.