#so it always takes me out when he cry easily in fics

[sarahsangelicdoll-recs]

eoooof this is hot !! i swear i love everything you come out with 💞💞

“predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.”

I’ve said this before but i love predator x prey because it has such an underlying hint of trust and playfulness that i just LOVE sm, predator x prey fics are my weakness and i love them SM

“tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.”

Imagining fucking Rafes dick with my tits while i watch his reaction is just unbelievably hot. then watching his expression while he stares down at you while he’s cumming, EUGHH i need himm

“hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.”

i SWEAR i love bitchy!kook!reader and Rafes dynamic so much, they’re both hot and its just, eueeshe

“spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..”

I swear spanking is such a big kink of mine, it’s so hot ESPECIALLY when they’re typically more on the softer side. like just imagining myself laying on my tummy across their lap while they alternate between spanking my ass red and soothing it is just- chefs kiss 💋

“marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss”

i never really thought of marathon sex before but just imagining Rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader fucking in pogue!sweetheart!readers trailer, plus add a lil bit of vanilla + humour, soft hint strawberry scent filling the air and just kind of lovey vibes is just.. i don’t know i need it 🤭🤭

we need to kiss all of these are hot and literally perfection

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[mari-lair]

Yeeees!

I always found it very interesting that the moments where Teru is sad he is quiet, and when he is the most hurt we don’t get to see his face.

We don’t know if he was teary eyed on his mom’s funeral, we just see his mouth down and his hand reaching out when Kou tries to hug/open her coffin.

In his fight with Kou, the moment he feels like Kou doesn’t care about him anymore, he immediately covers his face. He spends a long time hiding his face, four full pages without us seeing his eyes.

I like to believe Teru got teary eyed and hid it, because of how his eye are visibly more puffy/irritated.

Start of the chapter:

After he took his hand away:

His biggest fear insecurity is his siblings no longer needing or caring about him after all.

The only time Teru visibly cried may have been framed as comedic, but it was related to his family growing up.

[ftmknottypup]

Imagine a world where “service dog” has a very different meaning. Just like our world, service dogs are specially bred and trained and are allowed anywhere in public, but the similarities end there.

Criminals can be sentenced to be a service dog’s bitch for any length of time—up to lifetime—as punishment. That’s what you are: a service dog’s bitch. You wear a permanently-locked, highly-visible collar so everyone knows your status and can report you if you’re seen without your dog at any point. You must also always be wearing specially-designed bottoms and no underwear so your holes are easily accessible when you’re ass-up on your knees. Your home is outfitted with security cameras monitoring every room from every angle so you must follow the rules even when you’re alone.

The only real rule, of course, is that you submit to be fucked by your dog whenever he demands it. If he barks at you, you’d better be presenting your holes within ten seconds, or he’ll physically make you. He’ll knock you to the ground and tear open your clothing with his teeth. This can happen anywhere, at home or out in public. No one will intervene. They’ll just gather around to watch you whimper and cry as you get fucked by doggy cock.

Service dogs are bred and trained to have high stamina, always knot, and keep pounding into their bitch even after they’ve knotted. You’ll cum over and over before he’s done. And even then, if you’re outside at the park or somewhere, it’s not finished. Because nine times out of ten, regular dogs will be waiting their turn, and you have to stay there in position until your service dog decides whether he wants to move around to your head, pin you down by the neck, and let you be mounted again.

But the thing is, you’ve never broken a law in your life. The collar was forced onto you by your dom. No one you tell this believes you. All bitches say that.

Yes... I've read a fic just like this, except instead of a dom forcing me, it's government mandated for fakeboys to have a service dog so that I learn my place and be a good female bitch meant to take cock anytime, anywhere

[gay-dorito-dust]

I see him in the back of my mind, all the time.

This fic came to me in a dream, woke up crying.

You couldn’t help but feel abandoned, left behind to deal with the onslaught of emotions all by yourself as your eyes remained firmly on where Viktor once was before the arcane consumed him whole.

The war was over but the hollow feeling within your chest only grew stronger when seeing loved ones reunite in fits of hysterical tears and bone crushing embraces, the lump in your throat got worse as the ache in your heart had something missing, someone missing that made it beat faster than normal. There was nothing Viktor left behind of his existence besides from his cane that you kept tightly clutched within your hand, mimicking the way he’d love tap the ground with it, as though you were trying to prove to no one in particular who cared that he still exists.

Silent tears seemed to flow endlessly down your cheeks as you wandered through the hallways of the Academy, and yet you felt numb, cold like you were already long dead and didn’t know it just yet as even your fingers felt cold to the touch, but you didn’t know whether that was from the biting cold wind or something else entirely. You didn’t care either as your reason for caring and for loving every aspect of life was taken away from you, taking your beating heart with him as he did and you didn’t know whether to hate him or love him even harder for giving you the best moments of your life, memories that seemed to all play out before you as you entered the now empty laboratory.

You could still hear the laughter and the scolding echo as though the walls with complex equations scrawled upon them had harboured the essence of the people who once worked diligently to the point of physical exhaustion. Your throat clenched again you delved deeper into the lab with one place in mind like you were being pulled towards it by an unseen force; Viktor’s workbench that had now upon closer inspection had a fine layer of dust settling over it, something he would’ve never let happen despite the tendency to leave his things scattered everywhere he pleased but still become cutely annoyed when he couldn’t find them.

However there seemed to be one thing that the dust refused to touch, a broach. Your brows furrowed as you looked at it confused, what was a broach doing in a place like this? It looked like it was made a while back but yet had a polish to it that made it seemed like it was made only recently. You knew Viktor didn’t wear broaches so seeing such an item on his workbench specifically was leaving you more questions then answers, questions that were soon answered when you noticed a small note underneath it, scrawled with Viktor’s usual chicken scratch writing;

‘For my dearest muse, for I will always be with you, always - Viktor.’

You clutched the cane tighter now as the pain within your chest almost made you collapse on the floor. This broach was for you. Viktor made it for you and never had the chance to give it to you, or perhaps he was waiting for the right moment to do so, but fate decided to be cruel and change the trajectory of your life for the worst; the common con when you happened to fall in love with a scientist determined to make a change. You sighed unevenly as you reach for the broach, your fingers closing over the cold metal of it while gingerly lifting it off the workbench, holding it up to your face so that you could take in the details of Viktor’s most beautiful creation.

The broach had a decent weight to it, not too light where you could easily crush it within your hand, but not too hard where it was proven difficult in your hand for prolonged periods of time. It was beautifully done as on the front of the broach was a an intricate design of a mechanical Blue Jay bird. You ran your thumb across the bird to feel the engravings that made it beneath your finger tips. The bird began to glow a vibrant blue, making you jolt a little, and the broach opened up to show it’s insides to you as a soft melody began to play from some hidden component within the broach.

The moment the first notes of the soft melody hits your ears the tears that had stilled in you moment of curiosity began to fall once more, this was the song that you had told Viktor once upon a time ago was your favourite, and so for him to make you this broach with your favourite bird on the front and your beloved song on the inside, you’ve never felt more loved by a man such as him. Yet you couldn’t run to him and kiss him senseless, not anymore, which made the broach itself a reminder that even if he was long gone you were the last thing on his mind.

‘Oh Viktor.’ Your voice came out weak as a sob broke from your lips as memories resurfaced as the melody continued its tune just for you.

…

‘Viktor!’ You burst in the lab, making him jolt as he looked over at you with what he wanted to be conveyed as annoyance but came across as a cute pout in your eyes.

‘My dear how often must I tell you not to burst in here so abruptly and without warning, what if something went wrong and you had gotten hurt.’ Viktor scolds as you merely shrug and moved over to his side to look over his shoulder, trying to see what he was working on, only for him to move it slightly away from your line of sight.

‘We’re both alive aren’t we?’ You said sarcastically and Viktor sighs as a small smile graced his lips as his amber eyes looked back at you with the warmth you always use to being greeted with. ‘You truly fear nothing my love but the next time you pull sometime like that you’re banned from entering the lab for the rest of the week.’ He says warningly as he points his wielding tool at you to emphasise his point.

You leaned over to kiss his forehead. ‘Duly noted my love but can I see what you’re working on? Or is it a secret for me to find later?’ You then ask as you once again tried to see what he was making, and once again Viktor move it away from your curious eyes, making you pout once more as you looked at him pleadingly.

Viktor sighs, your curiosity was never ending and while he would indulge you on his creations, he couldn’t do so for this one. This broach was his most ambitious project thus far and it was a project he has dedicated to you a long time ago the moment you both sat at the docks, hearing a harmonious melody within the wind as you admitted that it was your favourite.

It was that moment where Viktor decided to make something that you could keep on your being forever and thus project blue jay broach was underway. He was halfway done with it, all he had to do was finished wielding some components on the inside that would play the melody the moment the broach was opened, then he would move onto engraving the blue jay on the front as a final touch to a months long work in progress. ‘Practice your patience and you shall find out what it is soon enough my muse.’ He says softly as he kisses the back of your hand.

‘Alright keeps your secrets, I’ll find out sooner or later.’ You said as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Viktor raised a playful brow. ‘Is that a threat or a promise my muse?’ He asks.

You shrugged your shoulders. ‘Why not both.’ You said and Viktor laughs which makes you smile in response, feeling your chest warm as you looked at him, vowing to treasure this beautiful man for the rest of your life.

…

‘I know it’s not much but I wanted to make you something…I know it’s not the best but-‘

‘I love it my muse.’ Viktor starts as he takes the gift off of your hand, cradling it within his own as he looked over the amateur wielding and more so at the love and effort you’ve put into making this just for him.

You looked between him and the bird that you’ve made for him on a whim one day, wanting to repay him for loving you as he did in a way he’d recognise, even if you weren’t familiar with it you’d give it a try just to see him smile that gorgeous smile of his that made his amber eyes seem to brighten.

‘Really? You mean that?’ You asked and Viktor brushed his hand against your arm softly, stopping to hold your hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

‘Unequivocally my love. It possess a uniqueness that is undoubtedly yours and yours alone.’ He replies while pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

‘That’s a poetic way of saying that it’s made by an amateur who can barely wield shit without almost hurting themselves.’ You muttered under your breath as you rested your head against his shoulder. Viktor chuckles as he puts aside the mechanical bird on his workbench in order to hold you against him as he rests his head atop of yours.

‘If it’s any consolation it’s a well made creation for an amateur wielder.’ He says, smiling to himself when he hears you muffled groan. He wishes to stay like this forever if he could, just have you in his arms for all of eternity until that eternity fades to nothing, and it was just you two locked in the moment in the blanket of never ending darkness.

‘I hate you.’ You say.

‘I love you too my muse.’ Viktor replies as he presses a kiss to the side of your head.

…

‘Viktor?’ You asked.

‘Yes my love?’ He replies, looking at you.

‘Do you think we’re together in every universe?’ You then looked at him, finding him more beautiful than any star that hung in the sky before you.

Viktor makes a face full of thought before letting his hand find yours, squeezing it as he presses a kiss to the back of it. ‘Of course my love, for what would I be without you to be my muse, my confidant and my anchor.’ His face then becomes one of seriousness as he leans so that his forehead touches yours. ‘Do you believe that we’re together in every universe?’

‘Without a doubt.’ You answered back, kissing his lips. ‘I don’t think I could live in a reality where you don’t exist my beautiful Viktor.’ You add as you started deeply into his amber eyes, watching them soften in relief as Viktor reciprocated your kiss with one of his own.

‘What a coincidence I was thinking the exact same thing my muse.’ Viktor whispers softly to you as he kisses you once more. You held the back of his head to keep him close as the stars watched you both display your love for one another in the most innocent way possible.

…

Mel wondered down the hallway but as she was about to pass the lab, she heard the soft melody coming from it and stopped to peek through the open doorway. Sat fast asleep on Viktor’s chair, body splayed uncomfortably across his dust covered workbench, was you and she couldn’t help but smile sympathetically for you, after all you had just lost the love of your life before your very eyes and with no plausible way of getting him back.

What was making the melody Mel did find as her eyes landed on the open broach within your hand, Viktor’s final gift to you as it hummed the melody for the fifth time. It was a beautiful song Mel thought to herself as she moved next to you, resting her hand over your shoulder as she heard you softly mutter in your sleep. ‘I’m sorry Viktor. I love you.’

‘I know he loves you too.’ Mel replied as she reached over and closed the broach in your hand, seeing the mechanical engraving on the cover as she did so before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wanting nothing more then let you sleep and be with Viktor in the land of dreams as she moved to walk back out the door. Mel looks back at you once more and in a moment of nostalgia overcame her she saw Viktor sleeping in that very chair instead of you. He was clutching his cane the same way you did and in that moment it looked as though your hands were touching; together intertwined in the smallest of things.

Viktor would always be with you, always.

[yingreads]

i am in shambles .

— ☆ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when you fall ill, alhaitham takes care of you for the first time and you enjoy the gentle way he shows his love when he thinks you aren’t watching

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader. sfw. fluff. sick reader (nothing serious). established relationship. i get a bit yappy about him, sorry! 1k wc. masterlist | byf/dni

this piece is a submission for a flufftober event by spookuna ♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You lay on your side, feeling the warmth of Sumeru’s balmy sun kissing your skin as it cascaded through the windows. The faint ticking of a clock on the wall filled the quiet room while soft footsteps moved around you. 

Alhaitham. 

You could have sworn he told you he was going to leave once he readied your breakfast so you were surprised he was still here. He was careful as his feet shuffled on the floor, avoiding waking you, but his attempts at silence only made him more pronounced. 

The clink of a glass on your nightstand, the rustles of fabric that eventually dissolved to murmurs— these were the sounds you had become hyper-aware of in your pretend slumber. 

Truth is, you’d been awake for the last half hour but your eyes remained closed out of curiosity about what he would be up to when he thought you weren’t looking.

Your body felt heavy, and not just from the illness that plagued you, but from the weight of blankets he had tucked you in earlier. His attention was soothing, yet as he hovered around you, you sensed a bit of uncertainty in his movements that you found quite endearing.

Alhaitham was not one for overt displays of affection but this unspoken care was so entirely him. 

The bed dipped as he sat down and you heard a sigh escape him. It was foreign in its gentleness and spilled out of him like there was much on his mind. 

Was he… watching you? 

You were tempted to open your eyes and catch him in the act, but something told you to wait. For a moment, nothing happened until the sheets beneath you shifted.

Then, you felt it— a barely-there touch to your forehead. His fingers felt familiar and comforting while he checked your temperature, the pad of his thumb tracing light circles that made your heart ache in the sweetest way. How did it feel, you wondered, to be so utterly indifferent to the world and then to finally let his guard down around you?

It wasn’t long before you found your answer.

“You should take better care of yourself,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a hint of frustration in his tone but underneath it was also something softer, more protective. “It’s unsettling seeing you this way.”

You pictured what his expression would be— furrowed brows and narrowing eyes while he tries to make sense of the emotions he’s not used to always showing. But if he knew you were awake, you’d tell him that he didn’t need to hide.

The gentle touch on your forehead moved to your cheeks, then traced the outline of your jaw, deliberately highlighting all the little features he had grown to love over the many months. 

“It’s quieter without you,” he said, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Alhaitham knew it was a bit absurd to be talking to himself but without your voice there was nothing to fill the silence. There was a faint chuckle in his words— he was beginning to understand what you meant when you told him ‘everyone is foolish when they are in love’.

You heard him shift again, and then you felt something against your lips— a light, fleeting kiss so delicate you almost thought you imagined it. But the ghost of his touch lingerered and it took almost everything in you to not break the illusion of sleep. 

He held you as if you were something precious and fragile to him but, to your dismay, he pulled away just as quickly as he had leaned in, and his immediate absence left you internally pouting.

The bed suddenly felt lighter and soon the realisation of him retreating toward the door started creeping in. But just before he stepped out, he paused.

Unbeknownst to you, he cast a sideways glance in your direction, wondering how much longer he would have to wait before you stirred. Or how much longer he had to keep talking to himself despite your telltale flinches while he caressed you.

You weren’t as sneaky as you thought so, yes, he noticed.

“It would be a shame if you remained asleep so might I tempt to wake you up and spend time with me in another way?” He called from where he was standing.

Even in your poorly state, you broke into a smile and finally let your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation and with a little triumph in his stride, Alhaitham returned to your bed, resting his hand on the blanket cocoon he had left you in. 

Before he met you, Alhaitham believed that his simple life was full and complete. Then you came along and made him realise what he had been missing all that time. You have done a lot for him but more than that, you’ve undone a lot for him, like allowing him to let go of his rigid control and embrace vulnerability.

The man who once had given you no more than a small and polite ‘Hello’ when you were acquaintances was now tending to you with such warmth that you didn’t need to hear words to feel the depths of his care— it radiated from every quiet gesture. 

Sometimes you forget that people don’t see Alhaitham the same way you do. He is stubborn, unpredictable and speaks abstrusely but to you, he is a source of unwavering support. Always in the background with a stoic but reliable presence— like a testament for the patience you’ve nurtured him with.

However, at the end of the day, you cannot describe what is indescribable and you cannot explain what there is to love about him unless you love him yourself.

“You know,” you began as your fingers slipped into his hair, “You shouldn’t have kissed me. You’ll only end up getting sick.”

“I’ll survive,” he replied with a slight shrug, dipping his head towards your lips again, “It’s a small price I’ll pay.”

And in that moment you understood that this was his way of saying he loved and missed you. Not in grand declarations but in the way he stayed, the way he cared, and the way he was always there, silently holding your world together.

a/n: i kept getting distracted while writing this because i love him so much he makes me sick.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

affiliations: @houseofsolisoccasum & @nereidsrealm

divider by @/attxnt

[madaqueue]

TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH

the weight that lies in a pinky promise

pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)

a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic

Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.

He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.

You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.

And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.

The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.

“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.

“Hi.”

When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.

(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)

(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)

Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.

“Did that hurt?”

Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”

“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”

And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”

Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.

You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.

Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.

A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.

You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).

When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.

“Can I make it better?”

It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.

So, you nod.

Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.

“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”

“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.

“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”

Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.

“I’m Suguru, by the way.”

He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.

A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.

“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.

“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”

Expectant eyes meet yours.

“Promise me I’ll see you again?”

This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.

“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.

Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”

He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.

It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.

And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.

It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.

“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.

From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.

“Yes.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.

Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.

“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.

And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.

“Yes.”

Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”

The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.

Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.

It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.

It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.

You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.

“Are you okay?”

Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.

“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”

Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.

With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”

He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.

“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.

Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.

Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.

Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.

The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.

Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.

It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.

You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.

The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.

You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.

You miss when he was warm.

Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?

He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.

You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.

“Suguru?”

His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.

“Are you okay?”

He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.

You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.

Would you promise?

On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.

He can’t.

When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.

Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.

Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.

“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”

As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.

You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.

(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)

Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.

When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.

You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.

That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.

Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.

“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.

His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”

“You’re really strong, y’know that?”

Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”

Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.

“Suguru?”

You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.

“Yeah?”

His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.

Three breaths in, three breaths out.

“I love you.”

You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

[metalbuckaroo]

The Chase

Summary// "we had a deal, my dove. You promised."

AU// WinterSoldier!Bucky x F!Reader

Warnings// chasing kink, unprotected sex, smut, a yank to the hair, cursing, use of petnames- dove, dovey

Note// I think I'm a little rusty, but I'm also beyond tired rn so it could also be that ehsudienaua. This is a part two to the Black Mail fic I did for kinktober many moons ago

"Who is he?" He was everywhere. His gruff voice echoing through the trees, surrounding you as you frantically looked around. Trying to find a way out of this situation. "I don't share, dove."

He was right behind you, your legs working before your mind to carry you in the opposite direction. Lungs burning from the cold night air as his dark chuckle faded in the distance.

But, he was quick and quiet. Moving just as fast as you could look over your shoulder before slamming into what could only be described as a wall of pure muscle, sending you falling back onto the leaf covered ground.

"Please- James, please. I'm sorry." You pleaded, tears stinging your eyes as he stood over you. The same mask Hydra forced him to wear covering the lower portion of his face.

He kneeled down, denim blues dark with something you couldn't place. "I won't ask again. Who. Is. He."

"Your way out! Please, just let me go. I still have a week!" The metal of his left hand gleamed in the moonlight as he reached his hand out to grasp your chin. Pupils blown and touch gentle.

"I'll give you a headstart. You have three minutes, dovey." You just stared at him wide eyed, chest heaving and heart hammering against your ribcage. "Run."

As if on instinct, you scrambled to your feet, trying to find your footing to dart back into the darkness the trees provided.

You knew you couldn't go much longer, your aching muscles sending pains through your legs each time your feet would hit the ground. There was no use in running anyways, he'd always win.

"We had a deal, my dove. You promised." You swore you could hear the grit of his teeth when you'd stopped, so close to giving in as you leaned your forehead against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Fingers curving against the wood. "You're just like them."

"No, I'm not." You heaved, trying to take a moment to catch your breath.

"I saw you with him at that diner. You're suppose to be mine."

His voice was getting closer, making you bite down on the inside of your cheeks to take some of the attention away from the burning in your legs before taking off again.

Though, you didn't make it far before fingers curled in the back of your hair. Crying out when he barely yanked to make you stop.

"I was doing what I was told. You want out, I have to find someone who can do that." You tried to reason, words not coming easy from the way he had your head craned back. His warm right arm snaking around your waist to pull you against him.

"Lies." He seethed, calloused fingers slipping under your shirt. "I've dreamt of you. Craved you. Now I finally have you again. I've been so cold without you my sweet dove."

Your body gave in the moment nimble fingers flicked the button of your pants open.

There was something twisted inside of you that liked the chase, the constant looming feeling you'd had over the weeks since you'd last seen him- like he was just lying in wait for the right moment.

It was hard to think of much else than the last time you'd saw him. The drag of his fingers against your skin, the way his lips seared kisses to your throat- much like now, cold and warm hands dragging against your sides as your fingers worked at the tactical belt that kept you from what you were truly after.

The ground freezing against your bare back not slowing you from getting what you craved.

It seemed to take ages for James to notice your struggle, his hands replacing your own to easily pull open the buckle as yours went to unclip the mask. Carelessly tossing it into the leaves to pull his lips to yours.

The hunger behind his kiss fueled you, your fingers weaving through his long locks and legs going around his waist to pull him closer. Swallowing breaths and quiet grunts as his hand fumbled to grasp his shaft.

The shudder that rolled through your body as he pressed into you was enough to send your mind reeling, everything else around you fading away and your senses overwhelmed by only him as he found his pace. Short, hard thrusts rocking your body- sending shocks of pure pleasure shooting down your legs.

You'd missed how full he made you feel. An emptiness left behind in his absence, his touch electric as he groped at your chest and left sloppy kisses along your throat. Deep moans vibrating against the skin, mixing with your whines in the cold night air.

"Can feel you milking me, dovey. Make a mess, show me who I belong to." James panted, drinking in the pleasure drunk scrunch of your face as your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Wedging his arm under you for a better angle, he didn't change his pace. Taking the opportunity to slot his lips over yours when you cried out in bliss, swallowing the sultry sound as your cunt clamped around him. His hips jerked forward at the feeling, the swirling sensation at his base building until he couldn't take it anymore- spilling into you with a huffed grunt.

The warmth of his body was quickly replaced with the night air, goosebumps prickling your skin as you whined in response. The dull ring in your ears making it hard to focus as you found your jeans to redress.

"One more week, dove. Better hurry."

[katsukistofu]

hihi !! thinking about a hurt/comfort fic with shinsou where reader feels like she’s boring/annoying to him

good parts

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ h. shinsou x fem reader. 1.5k words — hurt/comfort. fluff. slightly suggestive. ⭑ no matter how dark your brain gets, hitoshi is determined to help you see yourself in the same light that he does.

Hitoshi visibly softens the moment he opens his door at the sight of you standing there in the dimly lit hallway.

Dark violet pools swimming with worry drift from the way you’re chewing the inside of your cheek, like how he’s noticed you usually do when you’re anxious, to the hem of your pajamas balled up in your fists.

“What's up, love?” Hitoshi says in his softest voice, faltering when you finally meet his eyes with your reddened ones. His heart drops. Have you been crying?

At your uncharacteristically hesitant mumble of “Can I come in?” is when he feels said heart nearly split into two.

“Of course.” A concerned frown tugs at his lips. Something’s definitely wrong. You usually never bothered to ask twice, not that he minded of course, before barreling into his arms the second he turned the knob so many times before. “You can always come into my dorm.”

“I know, I just…” Your sweet voice that he’s missed all day trails off guiltily, and you take a deep breath as you fiddle with the edge of your pajamas.

“Actually, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I think I’ll just go back to my room.”

“What, who said that? You never bother me.” Hitoshi’s gentle yet firm grasp on your sleeve stops you from turning to leave, and you huff at his stubborn attempt to make you stay.

“Toshi, let go.”

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to amputate my arm first, and not that you couldn’t but I don’t think you don’t have the tools for that at the moment, pretty girl.” The edge of his lips tilt upward in a wry smile as he playfully tugs you towards him. “You’re not escaping me that easily.”

You huff and turn away, looking anywhere but into his warm, patient eyes. It’s a trap, you know it, once you do you’ll be spilling your guts out in no time, and the sickening aftertaste of burning shame is just something you can’t stomach right now.

Plus he’s wearing that gray hoodie he knows is your favorite, which just makes everything worse because he looks ten times more handsome than usual.

“Come on, sweetheart.” Hitoshi coaxes. “Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

A beat of silence. 

Your lips press into a firm, thin line, and you finally surrender. 

“Yeah. I know.” You sigh, and he rubs your shoulder encouragingly.

“Go ahead then, I’m listening.”

“Okay, uh…” You mumble slowly, suddenly feeling very silly. “Do you think I’m annoying or that you’ll ever get bored of me, Toshi?” 

“Never.” He answers without skipping a beat. “To both. You never annoy me, and you’re anything but boring.”

“Really?” Your voice breaks a little and his heart clenches in his chest at the way you sound so doubtful of his words. Hitoshi reaches out to tenderly brush his knuckles against your cheek.

“Really.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well when I wake up everyday, my first thought is that I look forward to seeing you.”

Your eyes widen, when it really shouldn’t be a surprise at all. “You do?”

“Mhm, I do.” Hitoshi moves to sit down on the edge of his bed. You gasp as he smoothly pulls you into his lap, quite literally sweeping you off your feet.  “And you know how else I know I’ll never, ever get bored of you?”

"What?" You shyly adjust your legs to straddle him more comfortably. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck in response, unwavering, intense eyes staring into yours. He’s so close that his lashes brush against your cheek when he blinks, and his warm breath fans across your lips teasingly.

“Toshi,” you whine. “You’re making me feel flustered.”

“I know it makes you feel flustered.” Hitoshi grins slyly. “That's why I love doing it.”

You gently bat his bicep. “Stop distracting me and answer my question!” 

“Yes ma’am.” Hitoshi chuckles as you retort by cutely puffing your cheeks and laying your head down on his shoulder. His arms are snug against your waist and he squeezes you in his lap. You always feel so nice, sitting so prettily on him. 

“I know I’ll never get bored of you because when someone asks what the best part of my day was, I always mention you in some way. Could be a cute doodle you made on a note you left me, you spending five solid minutes trying to push a door that says pull at a restaurant, or seeing you get excited over a new season of your favorite show coming out, anything as long as it's you.”

His expression is warm as he watches your head perk up at that, which quickly turns into a scowl when you realize exactly what he’s referring to. “The sign on that pull door was really faded, you couldn’t see it either!”

“That’s why I made you my guinea pig so I could come in and heroically save the day for you.”

“Heroic my ass,” you mutter into his hoodie and he laughs, then presses a soft kiss to your neck in response and you shiver. 

“And you have no idea just how much I love listening to you talk about your day.”

“...Even on the days I don’t do anything special?”

“Especially on those days.” He nuzzles his face into your neck and you giggle. “Love hearing you talk about mundane shit. Love when you send me a picture of what you’re having for breakfast, or when you tell me about some weirdly shaped cloud you saw outside during training.”

He pauses thoughtfully, and continues, “Hell, you could probably read me your grocery list and I'd still be hooked on every word. I love your little quirks, even the ones you think are weird. Your whole personality. Your cute voice.”

Hitoshi squeezes your hip. “So keep telling me all about it, okay? I wanna hear it.”

You let out a sweet little contented noise of agreement and your boyfriend grins. 

“So I think it’s safe to say that the chances of me finding you boring or annoying are real slim.” Hitoshi smirks, tickling your thighs that are still wrapped around his waist, and you squirm out of his hold and escape further into his bed while giggling. 

“Real slim meaning zero times infinity.”

“Isn’t that just zero, though?” You let out a soft sigh, completely out of breath as you flop onto his pillow.

“Shh, let me have my moment. Everything times infinity makes it more special.” Hitoshi’s arms come up from behind to hug you against him. “Like my love for you.”

“Ew.” You wrinkle your nose. “You’re so corny.”

“I know. Took you long enough to realize I’m obsessed with you.” He rolls his eyes, bending his head down to brush his lips against the nape of your neck. “Everyone in class already calls me a simp, you don’t need to rub it in.”

You flip around to face him, snuggling the side of your face into his pillow that has the faint, comforting scent of the laundry detergent he likes to use. “Good thing I’m also a simp.”

Hitoshi softly gasps in mock surprise. “Really? Oh my god,” his eyes flicker around the room as if he’s looking for the mysterious person who won your affections. “Who’s the lucky person?”

You laugh and the side of lips quirk up in that fond way that only happens when he’s with you. “You, you silly goose!”

“Me?” He sweetly brushes his nose against yours. “Wow. Feels like I’ve won the lottery.”

A warm feeling spreads across your chest, like honey being stirred into a hot cup of tea and Hitoshi’s eyes are half-lidded as he whispers in a low tone that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter to life.

“Come here, love. Give me a goodnight kiss.”

You lean in to kiss his deliciously soft lips, and you can feel him grin against your mouth at your eagerness. He kisses you back twice as gently, agonizingly so, while his hand trails to cup the dip of your waist and you feel dizzy at his adoring touch. Your heart is pounding way, way too fast for this late at night.

He sneaks another tender kiss onto your neck, then on your collarbone, and Hitoshi laughs as you shyly smush your flustered face into his pillow.

“One more thing.”

You peek over to glance at him, and the way he’s looking at you makes you feel warm and tingly all over and your burning face is begging for you to return it to the cool depths of his pillow.

“Promise you’ll always tell me when you feel like this. No more keeping it in.”

Your eyes soften at his stern expression. “Okay, I promise.”

“Pinkie promise.” He says sagely, lifting his finger, and a laugh bubbles up in your throat at his serious tone when you raise your own, his larger pinkie overlapping yours. 

“I pinkie promise.”

“Good girl.” Hitoshi smirks, which is short-lived when his eyes widen in panic and it’s too late by the time he reaches to catch you as you proceed to tumble off the bed.

[daycourtofficial]

Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

[loveshotzz]

Soooo, I keep wanting to read a smutty blurb/fic on Steve alternating between soft/gentle and hard/fast on female reader during doggy. I’d write it myself but I get too turned on to finish (the story anyway ayyyooo!)

hi bb! i saw your post and it had set my brain into motion and then when i saw you popped it in my requests I got so excited. needed to write something a lil dirty after all the fluff. i hope you like it! ♥️

wc: 1.1k

warnings: 18+, established relationship, unprotected sex, cream pie, spanking, steve’s a little cocky and we’re a little needy.

Steve’s hands keep a tight grip on the soft curve of your hips, the whites of his knuckles showing under tan skin. He’s mesmerized by the dip of your back when it curves to meet his thrust, the fat of your ass rippling against the tops of his hairy thighs.

“So pretty baby, god - so fuckin’ pretty.”

He leans forward, big hands leaving your hips to press down on the mattress next to yours, somehow pushing in deeper, punching a soft gasp from you while your fingers curl tight in the sheets.

Slick skin against slick skin, the sound of how wet you are is almost obscene as it mixes with each of his grunts that fill the quiet of your bedroom. Every slow drag of his cock against the velvet vice grip of your walls has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. His fat tip hitting that spot just right every time.

He keeps his pace slow, each roll of his hips precise in their mission to make you come undone for the second time tonight. The strand of hair he’s always pushing back drips sweat against his forehead while his lips ghost wet kisses along your shoulder blades.

“That where you want me?” He breathes hot against your ear with another short pump, obsessed with the small whine it gets him.

“uh huh” is all you manage to get out when he does it again.

“So good at takin’ all of me honey, always -fuck” he twitches when your walls squeeze at his praise,”always takin’ it all.”

His thrusts stay deep, slow, pointed and the coil that’s been tightening in your gut for what feels like hours starts to get painful. The need for more makes your hips push back before they circle, your arousal coating the dark patch of hair that frames what you’re begging for. Tightening your walls with purpose to antagonize him, the moan he gives you has your lips twist in a smirk.

“What? Am I not giving you enough?” He whispers when he regains control.

The tip of his nose trails along the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning down your neck before he lifts himself back onto his haunches, his hands grabbing greedy at your sides. squeezing, massaging.

Your legs shake when he stretches you out in a different way, your cheek hitting the mattress while your hips push up to try and take more. It was his favorite getting you like this. desperate.

One of his hand drops between your thighs, the pads of his fingers playing messy with your clit while the other restablishes a bruising hold on your plush curves. A soft chuckle leaving him when you gasp at the new sensation, teetering the edge of overstimulation.

“I asked you a question honey, it’s rude not to answer.” He pulls almost all the way out, making you dangerously close to feeling empty before he snaps his hips burying himself to the hilt. He ignores your cry and the way you almost rip the sheets off the mattress, asking again.

“Am I not giving you enough? You gonna tell me what you want?”

The palm of his hand cracks down against the side of your ass, the jiggle of it making him lick his lips. Your walls flutter, pulling him deeper when he rubs the sore spot, grabbing and squeezing at the soft fat to get a better look at how you drip for him.

“f-faster, please” you manage to squeak when his fingers between your legs start moving in more determined circle eights.

“Such a needy girl” He pulls all the way out this time, replacing his fingers on your clit with his leaking tip. He rubs it against your bundle of nerves, your slick making it slide easily from side to side with pointed pressure. It makes your jaw drop, eyes closing tight as you nod in agreement, your hips starting to rock against him with your orgasm dangerously close like this.

It doesn’t take Steve long to notice, his own release begging to come out with yours but he wants to be buried inside you first.

“Not yet.” He tutts, taking the attention from your clit with him, lining back up at your entrance. “Need you to do it on my dick baby, I wanna feel it.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, not that there was one when he stretches you back out again. It stings in a way that has your eyes watering when he’s half way in, your toes curling when his pelvic bone meets your ass cheeks completely buried, almost bullying your cervix.

“Fuck! - Steve!” You pant trying to adjust to his size again, but he barely gives you any recovery time before he’s setting a brutal pace.

“Just giving you what you want honey, this is what you wanted right?” He taunts between gritted teeth, his eyes threatening to hit the back of his skull when you start to meet his thrusts. Insatiable.

The sound of skin slapping against skin battles with the sticky mess of your arousal as he keeps pounding into you, pulling your cheeks apart to watch how you coat him creamy white. You’re close, he can feel it.

“Need you to be a good girl and cum for me.” He grunts, his long fingers finding their way back to your bundle of nerves making you clench hard around him. “Yeah baby, just like that. Come on, I know you wanna give it to me.”

The grip on your hip becomes iron tight as he drives into you relentlessly, the box springs of your mattress squeak while your head board smacks against the wall with each harsh thrust.

“I’m- I’m gonna - god” you moan loudly when he finds the perfect speed between his fingers and the quick rolls of his hips, the coil tightening to it’s limit finally snapping making you see white.

His name comes out in a scream as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, bringing him to the brink with you. His body goes rigid, cock twitching deep inside of you. A guttural moan escapes somewhere from his chest when he paints your insides, your walls squeezing him so tight it threatens to push him out. He keeps the hold on your hips, making you take all of what he’s giving you before he finally collapses on your back, completely spent.

He leaves sloppy kisses anywhere he can reach, your shoulders, your spine, the back of your neck. Droplets of sweat drip onto your heated skin from his forehead, as he slowly pulls out wincing when he’s finally free. Flopping down on his back after, he doesn’t hesitate to pull you to his chest. He lips feather light on both your cheeks, your nose, and then finally your mouth, chuckling out of breath when you whine puckering for more. His needy girl.

[archivequinn]

i loved your fic where reader cries and eddie calms her down as a thoughtful romantic caring boyfriend. i wonder if you could write something like that again. short or long, it doesn't matter. <3

Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it, I hope you like this one too. I did my best.

Nightmare eddie munson x fem!reader, fluff

summary: when you have a bad dream, your boyfriend eddie takes care of you at midnight, calms you down.

Falling asleep in Eddie’s trailer always gives you a different kind of peace. The bed is small, but Eddie’s presence makes you forget all the tightness. The faintly trembling walls of the trailer and the sounds of crickets outside add a strange serenity to the night. You’re wearing one of Eddie’s oversized sweatshirts; it still smells like him, that unique scent—slightly spicy and a bit woody.

Underneath, you’re wearing one of his boxers, because Eddie had grinned at you and said, “I love seeing you in those.” On the other end of the bed, he’s sleeping in just his boxers, the faint light of the trailer highlighting the contours of his shoulders. He’s breathing easily and deeply, completely at ease.

The night had started off sweet. The spice of the hot chicken wings you ate earlier still leaves a burning sensation at the corners of your lips. After that, you’d cracked open a couple of beers and laughed hysterically at an absurd horror movie Eddie had picked. His deep, slightly raspy laughter still echoes in your ears.

You fell asleep feeling drunk on this peacefulness, but at some point, a dream pulled you in. Everything felt so real. You were losing Eddie. Right before your eyes, he was disappearing, as if turning into a shadow and vanishing. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t stop him. You wanted to scream, but your throat felt tight, like it was constricted. You took a step forward, but the ground was slippery, your hands reaching out to grasp the cold void.

You jolted awake with a gasp of fear. The trailer was dark, with only a faint orange glow from a streetlamp filtering through the edge of the window. Your breaths were rapid, your chest rising and falling. You turned to Eddie beside you. He was still there. His back was to you, his hair spilling over his shoulders, rising and falling gently with his peaceful breaths. The weight on your chest eased slightly, but tears welled in your eyes for a moment. Losing him for real… the thought alone sent shivers through you.

Unable to resist, you placed your hand gently on his back. Your palm felt the warmth of his skin. It was as if this simple gesture reassured you: “He’s here, next to me.”

Eddie stirred slightly at your touch, lifting his head from the pillow and mumbling sleepily, “Hey... everything okay?”

The warmth and concern in his voice instantly softened you. “I had a dream,” you said, your voice still trembling.

Eddie, without opening his eyes, reached back to pull you into him. The weight of his arm around you melted all your fears. “I’m here,” he murmured softly. “The dream’s over.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your nose burying into the curve of his neck. His scent, Eddie’s presence, the tiny world inside the trailer... it was all real.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, letting him draw you even closer with a sleepy smile. Your heartbeat began to steady. As he drifted back to sleep, you simply listened to his breathing. You were afraid of losing him, yes. But this moment, his presence, kept you safe.

Your breaths became uneven, and then, without realizing it, tears started slipping down your cheeks. The warm droplets trailed down your face, and for a moment, you tried to hold them back, but it was futile. The impact of the dream ran so deep, leaving a weight in your throat that you couldn’t shake.

When Eddie noticed the quiet sobs escaping you, he quickly turned. His half-asleep face was suddenly filled with concern. “Hey, hey... what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle, though his eyes showed a flicker of panic.

You couldn’t find the words, shaking your head as you wiped at your eyes with trembling hands. But that only made you cry harder. Eddie didn’t hesitate. Sitting up, he pulled you into his arms, pressing you against his chest. “Shh... it’s okay, it’s okay,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your hair. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

His voice was as soft as a whisper but carried a soothing strength. He held you like that for a while, his palm gliding gently over your back. Even as you were wracked with sobs, he stayed patient, waiting for you to calm down.

Finally, taking a deep breath, you whispered hoarsely, “I had a dream about losing you.”

Eddie pulled back slightly, his hands on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. Those beautiful brown eyes of his, still heavy with sleep, were full of love.

“Me?” he asked, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, sweetheart. Look, I’m still here. Still your silly Eddie.”

You nodded with a faint smile, though your tears kept falling. Eddie noticed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Come on, let’s wash your face. This beautiful face isn’t meant for crying this much,” he said, gently helping you out of bed.

When you reached the trailer’s tiny bathroom, Eddie grabbed a towel and turned on the tap. The water was cold, but it was enough to cool the warmth of your tears. He soaked the towel and pressed it gently against your face. “There we go,” he murmured. “Fresh start. No more crying, okay?”

You tried to laugh lightly, but a shiver still lingered. Eddie noticed and rolled his eyes playfully. “Oh, so I guess this is my fault for picking that stupid movie? I told you it’d give you nightmares.”

“Eddie!” you protested, lightly swatting his shoulder with a small laugh. Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m innocent. It was probably those chicken wings cursing us. They were way too spicy, probably fried our brains.”

He handed you a glass of water. “Come on, drink up. Crying dehydrates you.”

When your shaky hands struggled, he held the glass with his own, guiding it to your lips. “There you go. One more sip.”

Then he led you back to the small sitting area. Before heading back to bed, he sat on the floor, pulling you down beside him. His fingers combed gently through your hair as if trying to brush away all your fears. “You need a new hairstylist,” he teased, tugging playfully at a strand before tickling your side.

“Eddie, stop!” you whined, but he didn’t seem to care. “No, no, this face owes me a smile,” he declared, fingers trailing to your ribs as he tickled you. You tried to resist, but it was no use; laughter bubbled out, and the darkness of the dream faded into lightness.

Finally, you leaned against him, still giggling. Eddie finished smoothing your hair before resting his head on your shoulder. “I promise you,” he said, his voice low and serious. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you.”

In that moment, you felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to have Eddie by your side. No matter what, you knew he would always make you feel safe.

taglist: (the only one 😅🧡) @nicholaschavezslut69 If you want to be added to my fic's taglist, just let me know. ✨

[dollishmehrayan]

# BATBOYS WITH BRAZILIAN!READER HCS ── .✦ ( batboys with a Brazilian s/o, requested!)

a/n: request by this anon (here) and a second anon (which I’ll theyre request even though it’s the same I’ll be doing it for them too as in a Damian focused one) also please reblog/like for some engagement tysm <3, also i’m thinking of doing different batboys separate hcs and like yk fics instead of all them together because I kinda don’t want to be reduced to that yk?? But it’s like the most posts that get engagement so I rlly can’t be mad at something that makes me get most attention, tags: (batboys x Brazilian!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick is obsessed with how expressive you are, he adores how easily you switch between Portuguese and English. He tries to pick up a few phrases to impress you, though he’s definitely not as smooth as he thinks.

“Oi, amor, tudo bem?” He says, thinking he nailed it. “...Wait, did I just call you my love?”

He takes you on regular dates to the best Brazilian restaurants, but when you ask for cachaça or caipirinha, he looks at you like you just asked him to jump off a building.

“Uh… we’re not old enough for that, are we?” “Dick your 27 for crying out loud.”

But when you insist, he’s just charmed by the way you argue with him, and tries (unsuccessfully) to keep up with your energy.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason absolutely loves your Brazilian food—specifically, feijoada and pão de queijo. He’s always asking you to make them, even though he tries to act like he’s not obsessed with it.

“I’m just saying, if you made this for me every day, I wouldn’t complain. Just don’t tell anyone that.”

He’s so proud of your Portuguese skills, and loves hearing you speak it. But when you use slang or curse words, he pretends to be all scandalized “why would you say that *gasp*” even though he secretly finds it adorably tough.

“Hey, is that how you really talk? That’s, uh, pretty intense. Kinda hot, though.”

Your energy and joy rub off on him, and despite his grumpy nature, he can’t help but smile when you’re around. He secretly loves it when you speak Portuguese, especially when you're excited.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim can’t resist asking you about Brazilian pop culture, especially when you’re watching Brazilian shows or listening to Brazilian music even when you tell him to not translate the meaning of some songs.

“Okay, okay, I have to know… how does that work? What’s this soap opera about?”

Your dance moves are a bit of a mystery to him at first, but when you teach him a little samba or forró, he’s lowkey impressed (and laughs when he messes it up).

“You know what? I’ll stick to solving crimes, you handle the dancing.” (He dances like a white boy so much in some white club😭)

He loves the idea of you sharing bits of your culture with him, especially when you teach him some Portuguese slang. But when you start using it against him, he doesn’t know whether to laugh or pretend he didn’t understand.

“Wait, wait, you just called me that?! But I thought I was your… Wait, hold on. I need a dictionary.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian is fascinated by the fierceness of Brazilian culture—he admires your independence and the way you carry yourself.

You make pão de queijo one morning, and he's convinced it’s some magical food that might give him new abilities. He eats it while muttering about the mysterious "power" of Brazilian cuisine.

“This… this isn’t regular bread. It’s—“ He pauses mid-bite. “I can feel stronger already.” “Damian, it’s just food.”

Damian gets a bit possessive about your accent, secretly thinking it sounds regal. He’ll make comments like, “I’ve never heard anyone speak so commandingly in Portuguese.”

If anyone flirts with you, he’s immediately in ‘protective mode,’ trying to act cool, but it’s clear he’s not happy. If anyone flirts in Portuguese to you? It’s a whole other level of intensity for him.

“You will not talk to her in that language in-front of me.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce doesn’t really get what’s so special about Brazilian music, but when you play some Bossa Nova, he ends up listening to it when he’s working. It makes him feel at peace.

“I don’t know how you do it, but this music calms me down in ways I didn’t expect.”

He’ll take you to exclusive Brazilian art exhibits, but he can’t help but feel like he's failing because he doesn’t know anything about Brazilian art or culture. But that’s okay—he'll always make sure you have everything you need.

“I might not understand all of it, but I can tell it means a lot to you. That’s enough.”

He loves how you bring excitement into his sometimes dreary world. When you talk about your hometown or culture, it’s like a breath of fresh air to him.

“You’re one of a kind.” *cue Alfred preparing Bruce’s list for him😭*

[blond3ang3l]

can u make a part 2 to ur logan fic? maybe reader gives in and sucks logan off?

I apologize ahead of time for the man I became while writing this second part🩷

———————————————————————

Your shook your head and tried to turn away from him. The same power imbalance you two usually had. Always fighting back and forth for who was the better mutant. This time Logan wasn’t going to let you win in the slightest. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"No. Fucking look at me.”

He commanded, his eyes filled with intensity.

"I want you to see who's doing this to you.”

He pushed his pants down, his hard dick brushing against your thighs, leaving a stick mess.

"I told you to leave and your stupid ass didn't listen. this is your fault. you brought this upon yourself."

"No, fuck Logan. s' isn't right. This is against the rules, what if someone hears?”

He ignores your protests, lining himself up with your ass.

"It's exactly right. You should have listened when I told you to fuck off the first time.”

He let spit on to his dick before pushing inside you, not gentle, not caring about your fake protest. If you wanted to you could easily push him off, he’s not stupid and he knows you wanted this but didn’t want to admit. He just fucks you hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He told you to leave for a reason. He was starting his rut and being around basically anyone made him want to pounce of them.

"This is what you get for not listening.

Your eyes rolled back as you groaned. Your right leg thrown over his shoulder, his hand gripping you face so you had to look at him. He smirks at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming more forceful. His hand leaves your face to grip the headboard, his nails digging into the wood as he pounds into you.

"You like that?”

He asks, his voice low and husky.

"You like it rough?

"Fuck! yes, oh my god Logan."

Your arm wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear.

"Good. Because I'm not done yet.”

He continues to fuck you hard, his claws extending and digging into the mattress on either side of your head.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you.”

He snarls, his hips slamming against yours. The other mutants were going to hate him later for the sound his headboard slamming against the wall so hard repeatedly, but he didn't give a fuck. His rut was way more important to him than them and with how good you felt they could kiss his ass if they thought he was going to be quiet for them. Your nails were digging into his skin as he thrusted into you repeatedly, crying out his name right into his ear. The sound of your cries and the slamming of the headboard against the wall are music to his ears. He fucks you even harder, his claws digging deeper into the mattress as he loses control.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"

He roars, his hips pistoning in and out of you at a brutal pace. Your hair was splayed out over his bed. a small bulge in your lower tummy from where his cock was hitting. He looks down to see the bulge in your lower stomach and grins, his cock throbbing as he continues to fuck you hard.

"That's right, baby. Take it all."

He growls, his claws his claws gripping the mattress even tighter as he thrusts into you harder and faster. Your dick was leaking over both of your stomachs, making a sticky mess. it felt like the air was being knocked out your chest which each deep thrust.

"Logan!"

The sound of your cries and the sticky mess on your stomach only fuels him more. He drives his cock into you harder, groaning in pleasure as he takes what he wants.

"Goddammit. Yeah. Take it!”

You were much different than the other mutants he's fucked, you were a fucking freak. matching his energy completely. He would have to hold back with other people, his strength sometimes getting out of control. But you were just as fucked as he was and he was eating that shit up.

"harder. fucking harder Logan."

He grins wickedly, his hips snapping forward with brutal force.

"You can take it.”

He hisses, his teeth bared.

"You wanted more, didn't you?"

He pounds into you mercilessly, his claws shredding the mattress

"Beg for it.”

You gripped his collar and pulled his face towards yours.

"I swear to god you better fuck me like you god damn mean it Logan I’ll go find another man to fucking do it."

His eyes flash with feral hunger at your demand. He snarls and bites down on your lips, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you with a frenzy he's never shown before. The bedframe cracks under the force of his thrusts, and the headboard crashes to the floor. You couldn’t care less about the bed breaking under you two. You wrapped your legs around his waist refusing to let him stop yet. He grunted in approval, his arms wrapping around your waist as he continues to pound into you.

"That's right. Hold on tight.”

He breathed heavily against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm not finished with you yet.”

"More, please Logan."

His answer was to grab your ankles and pull your legs up even higher, changing the angle of his thrusts. The new position allows him to hit even deeper, his cock slamming against your prostate with relentless force.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight!"

He roars, his voice echoing through the room. Your knees were basically pressed against your chest. each thrust hitting deep inside you. Your and his pecs pressed against once other. one of your arms wrapped around his neck as you repeatedly moaned his ear. He grinned darkly, his hips bucking against yours as he continues to stretch you wide.

"You like that? You like me splitting you open?"

He hisses, his fingers digging into your thighs hard enough to draw blood.

"Say it."

"Fuck yes, make it hurt."

He growls low in his throat, his pace quickening as he spreads your legs even wider.

"That's my good little whore.”

He praises harshly, his voice hoarse with exertion.

"You can take more, can't you?

"Yes, yes I can take it."

“Gonna fucking cum, you’re gonna take this shit aren’t you baby? Let me hear you.”

His hand moved to the back of your neck, wrapping around and pushing your forehead against his. Both you letting a moan as you came together, him inside you and you all over you guys stomach.

[kryannoy]

Hey, can we have a Yan!Andrew Graves with Reader?

genre: sfw, headcanons + fic

characters: yandere!andrew graves x reader

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive andrew

a/n: i don't normally write yandere characters so this was a bit of a challenge. hope this suits your request and enjoyed reading!

He's so obsessed with you but he's subtle with it—more like whatever stupid thing he does, he'll make sure you don't see it.

When he loves you, he'll make sure to keep you happy just so you will always come to him whenever something happens. He'll open a bottle cap for you without being told, he'll wipe your mouth with his fingers if it's messy—totally not putting them in his mouth afterwards. He'll open the door for you, let you cry on his shoulder, gives you hugs when you need it. Every subtle thing to manipulate you into coming back to him when you need support.

If someone talks to you, he'll be right behind you with arms wrapped around your waist while glaring daggers at the other person.

"No, no. Continue. Don't mind me, pretend that I don't exist."

To you, his tone sounds normal but to the poor guy, it's like a cleaver skinning them alive.

If someone even looks at you without you knowing, it's gonna be hell for them. He somehow won't be afraid to kidnap that person, tie them up and threaten them with Andrew's favorite cleaver until the person is diagnosed with PTSD.

He will shamelessly go back to you with a smile on his handsome face as if nothing happened.

Andrew would kill anyone for you but if you tell him not to, he won't.

Although, he knows you would be scared if you saw him murdering people, he won't do it anyways. The last thing he wants is you running away from him.

You have no idea why people start to turn their backs on you and you would think that you've done something wrong. So, you ask Andrew for advice or if he knows anything, exactly what he planned for.

And he would smile innocently from his success and spread out his arms. You would dive into his comfy sweater without knowing the hands that are holding you are the hands that have done so many questionable and criminal acts.

"C'mere you. Aw, you poor thing! I'm sure no one hates you. Who would? They're probably out of social energy from a rough day or something. Don't you worry!"

He'll kiss your forehead, then your nose, and lastly, your lips. You would smile and he would smile into the kiss while thinking how naive you are.

He admits sometimes that he feels guilty for deceiving you but what can he do? How could he come up to you and admit to all the crimes he's done? You wouldn't look at him the same anymore, would you? Would you still love him despite knowing what he did or what he ate? He wouldn't take any risks. If he has the person he loves the most in his arms, why would he easily throw you away?

If the truth hasn't been told, he'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you forever.

You knew he acted differently than normal people. He's a little different because of his upbringing, and that's normal for kids with neglected parents growing up with a weird habit of theirs and that was just his charm, right?

Because you think it was just a charm of his, you didn't run when you had the chance to. Besides, if he was so sweet to you, so kind to you, so good to you, he wouldn't hurt you, would he?

There's a reunion dinner later tonight with your old high school mates and of course you're coming. You haven't seen your friends in a long time. You've already informed Andrew of this and for the past week he was okay with it, but why is his tone now sounded . . . different?

"You're going?" He asked from the couch. One of his legs propped up on the other and an arm over the couch. His green eyes look up and down at your fit that he knows you chose the best from your closet. You're going to meet some nobodies with that outfit? You didn't even wear something so pretty when he's around! Not that you aren't pretty. It's just you put a tiny bit less effort when going out or being with Andrew.

"I've already told you, haven't I?" You're putting on your shoes at the front door and you hear some shuffling. Your hand is at the doorknob now. "I'll be back before ten. I prom—"

The door slams shut again before you could even open a crack. You can feel him behind you. His hands on the door, caging you between him and the solid wood.

"You are not going." His voice is low, almost threatening.

You turn around to face. You do not want to have this conversation right now. You're going to be late, that is if you find a way to stir this around to go your way.

"Andrew, this is unfair. Last week, you told me I can go so why are you backing out now? Tonight of all days!"

It wasn't his intention to upset you nor ruin your night but why are they taking you away from him?

"Why are you still excited about going? Don't you remember what they've done to you? They isolated you . . . remember?"

They isolated you. Yeah, right. He was the reason behind it anyways, but poor you who loves him too never suspected your own boyfriend was the culprit.

"They . . . didn't. You said they didn't have the energy to talk," your voice was almost a whisper. You weren't even confident of your own answer. You're starting to reminisce about the old days at school. Sure, they didn't talk to you anymore, but the reunion dinner is going to be different, right?

His hand moves down to lock the door but his actions made you take a step back, hitting the door. You forgot you're kind of trapped right now with no way out unless reasoning with him first.

"You don't really have to go . . ." The same hand moves up to your hair, tucking some strands behind your ear ever so gently it's almost . . . unnervingly creepy. "Do you?"

His eyebrow raised in question.

Your heart is starting to pick up its pace. Your fingertips are running cold. You don't understand yourself why you're so nervous in front of him. I mean, you had been nervous around him but this is a different kind of nervous. It's fear. Fear of him. However, he never hurt you yet. He never raised his voice to you. He's always been nice and sweet to you. But you really can't help this weird feeling.

So you slowly tell him how you feel.

"You're scaring me."

And there it is. It hit something in him. It's the last thing he wants, but the first thing to make you listen to him.

You can see his facial expression changes from demanding to guilt.

"Love, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just me!" His caging arms now freeing you while backing away a bit, most likely a tactic to show you he's innocent. "I'm just saying, wouldn't you be left out at dinner? I don't want my pretty girl coming home sad and disappointed when the past week you've been so excited about this dinner."

Andrew takes your silence to continue. "Stay here. With me."

You really want to insist on going yet you don't want to risk starting a fight. But it's unfair! You always let him win you over, now he needs to listen and let you go. Maybe a small chance could probably lead to a huge success.

"But please!" You drag the word longer, hoping he'll give in. "I haven't seen my friends for I don't how many years. It's just this once."

You seem energetic again. He takes this chance to step closer, a hand on the side of your face. His thumb brushes along your glossed lips you put on earlier, smudging it. His gaze move up from your lips to your eyes.

"I'm sorry, darling, but no means no." He said it so softly before he kissed you longingly. You somehow melt into him despite your disagreement. He's really not losing—like always.

He broke off the kiss to continue persuading you to stay. "I'm doing this for your own good. Sometimes you're too naive to be staying around them. You're too nice. I've seen it. And it hurts to watch you being used and throw you away."

You exhale a deep breath from the stress. Maybe Andrew's right. Maybe you are too naive to realize. They asked you for homework and notes, but then one day, they stopped talking to you. Maybe they really did see no use in you they've fulfilled their satisfaction.

But Andrew . . . Andrew never stopped talking to you. Andrew never threw you away. Andrew was always there through it all. Andrew never left you by yourself.

Like right now.

"Okay," you spoke softly, like a whisper, before nodding your head. "I'll stay in with you."

Good thing you were looking at the ground because now, Andrew can't hide the big smile on his face. He successfully manages to keep you by his side. His heart beats rapidly from the excitement, his skin was buzzing. He can be with you tonight. He can stay with you. Just the two of you!

He pulls you in his arms and strokes your hair. "That's my good girl. Always so obedient." He kisses the crown of your head before leading you to your bedroom so you can change to a more comfortable clothes.

He dreams of having you by his side forever but he doesn't want to go to extreme measures such as locking you in or tying you up. Maybe not just yet. Since you're so good to him and love him too, you deserve to roam around freely until you start to disobey.

He wouldn't want to do it but tonight, he was close to doing so just from how persistent you were.

[amorgansgal]

A Moment in Moonrise Towers Library

Big thank you to @12thhouse-sun for letting me be inspired by their fic you're at the top of my lungs (a wonderful Gale x Tav fic and is well worth a read) and allowing me to write a smutty scene involving Gale x Female reader in the Moonrise Tower library post Ketheric fight! Hope you enjoy this homage.

CW: Sexual content, touch of dominance/submission, very brief mentions of blood and injury

The portal Dame Aylin had conjured led you all back to the doorway that you had first gone through to reach the eponymous towers that made up Moonrise. You stumbled a little on the first step, your heart was still racing after the battle, your skin covered in bruises, sweat and blood - some of yours, some of the other creatures you had fought. So while you longed for a good hot bath, some bread and cheese, and your bedroll, you knew you’d be unlikely to sleep with how shaky you felt. 

Thankfully your lover, Gale, caught hold of your arm, stopping yourself from falling flat on your face down the rest of the stairs. It would hardly do for a conquering hero to make a bit of a fool of themselves! You were about to crack a similar joke to Gale while thanking him for coming to your aid, but on turning to him, and catching his gaze, you faltered. 

His eyes were dark, much darker than even their usual warm brown depths would be, and the slight flair of his nostrils and tightened grip on your arm made you pause. He inhaled sharply as though he longed to press his nose against your neck and you remembered how he had once said he found you utterly desirable in the heat of battle with your muscles glistening! At the time you had, more or less, dismissed the notion as just a bit of silly flirting, a little bit of fun with not much to it… but given how he was staring at you, as though he would practically devour you… maybe he had been skirting around the truth. Or… well… pointing you directly at it!

Gale’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and you saw him shift his weight, curving his back a little and finally letting go of your arm to rearrange his robes. You glanced down, then cursed yourself for doing something so stupid in front of the others, though thankfully everyone seemed to be distracted and were already moving off to go back down to the main hall. But you were quite certain that Gale was hard. 

You tried to act like you hadn’t even noticed and began to follow the others along the hallway to the stairs, but before you could catch up Gale took hold of your arm again and whisked you into what had been Moonrise Tower’s library before you could even let out a cry of surprise. The door was shut behind you and you didn’t even have a chance to ask, ‘Gale, what are you doing?’ He pressed his body tightly against yours and was kissing you as though you might disappear, his hands cupping your face, running down your sides, round your back until you were flush against him and he was grinding his hard length into you. 

The growing ache between your thighs made you whimper against his mouth and suddenly he pulled you round the corner of bookshelves to where Z’rell’s desk was. An absolutely devilish gleam entered Gale’s eyes and he pushed all of the books, papers, quills and so forth that had been scattered on there onto the floor. 

He grinned. ‘I’ve always wanted to do that, but hesitated when it came to my own desk!’

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, but Gale easily picked you up and then plonked you down on the desk, his lips continuing their onslaught of passion and desire as he kissed down your jaw and neck. ‘Gods, I was so worried about you,’ he murmured.

‘I was fine,’ you said softly, your head tipped back, enjoying the kisses he was burning into your skin. ‘We did it, we defeated him.’

‘I’ll never not worry about you, my love. And the moment the battle was done, I wanted nothing more than to take you into my arms, to claim you, to become one with you-’

‘Well I’m glad you waited until we found a private spot, I’m not sure how the others would feel about that, but we should get downstairs…’

Gale outright growled and you let out a breathless laugh as his fingers eagerly scrabbled with the ties on your breeches, tugging them down to your ankles. ‘Gale!’ you cried out quietly, but he seized your mouth in another passionate kiss till you felt like he was trying to pull every bit of air from your lungs and leave you dizzy. 

‘Shh, my love, we have to be quick.’

‘Gale!’ you whispered, attempting to be scandalised that he was actually considering this: fucking you desperately and quickly in the quiet, dark library while your companions, friends and allies were downstairs. When in truth it sent a shiver of desire coursing through you and the brief touch of his fingers against your cunt made it downright clear how sopping wet you were just from the delicious notion of him claiming you after a battle, how much it turned you on seeing his dark, wild look. 

He smiled, triumphantly, wickedly, his beautiful brown eyes gleamed in the half light and finally his clever fingers slipped between your thighs, drenching themselves in your slick and circling your clit till you let out a pathetic whimper and instinctively bucked against his touch. 

‘Gods damn,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse with lust. ‘Evidently I’m not the only one who finds a scrape with death inspiring!’ 

‘Gale!’ you whined and felt his soft chuckle of laughter, as he pressed kisses to your throat, his fingers easily slipping inside of you, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit, making you thrust your hips, needily seeking out your pleasure. 

‘You’re so wet,’ he whispered, his voice tickling your ear. ‘Did I do that, my love? Do you want me to take you here, fuck you on this desk, claim the hero of Reithwin?’

You didn’t even have it in you to argue that the whole group were the heroes of Reithwin and of course, he was utterly to blame for the slick between your thighs, the domineering, passionate kiss he had given you made you weak with longing. You nodded pathetically and eagerly reached for him, uncaring whether anyone downstairs noticed your absence or whether they would try to look for you. You pushed aside his robe, unlacing him and freeing his hard cock from the confines of cloth. Gale hissed as your hand stroked him, smearing down the precum that beaded at the end of his cock down the length.

‘Be quick,’ you demanded and his smile widened. He placed your hand back on the desk, then found your slit once more with his fingers, sliding one inside and making you drop your head back to moan.

‘Quiet, darling, you don’t want anyone to hear us,’ he murmured, though he was still looking very pleased with himself and you were quite certain he did not care a jot whether anyone else heard your cries of pleasure. There had already been a few teasing comments and displeased looks from your companions on a couple of occasions when you hadn’t been able to bite back your moans in camp. Gale rarely tried to stifle his either and kept up a running stream of how good you looked, how much he wanted you, how wonderful you felt, how badly he needed to hear your pleasure. 

He slid his cock back and forth against your slit, then easily sunk into you, his fingers tightly digging into your thighs, his groan buried against your neck and turning into a sharp bite. You gasped at the sensation and whimpered at the feel of his long cock nestled deep inside you. His warm tongue laved at the mark now left on your neck, soothing it. 

‘Gods, I will never get used to how good you feel,’ Gale said, then slowly pulled his hips back, till just an inch of him was left inside you and then quickly thrusting into you, making the desk jolt underneath you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, wanting him closer, but he suddenly pushed you down on the desk and draped your arms back so you were clinging to a corner of the desk. 

‘Keep those legs wrapped tightly around me, my love,’ he said, then placed a hand against a nearby bookshelf and began to fuck you, hard and fast. 

It was relentless, desperate, the culmination of all the emotions and fear you had felt during battle, a deep seated need to touch and make sure the other person was alive and well, the adoration and love you felt for one another. The bookshelf creaked under Gale’s clenched grip, the desk groaned and you cared nothing at all if anyone heard you. You moaned loudly as Gale’s other hand returned to your clit, stroking and circling it quickly, bringing you almost painfully to your pleasure, an inescapable wave and rush of utter bliss. 

He continued to thrust into you, his eyes gazing down on you, drinking you in, his brow furrowed a little, his breath coming short and fast, his groans joining yours in a cacophony of lust in the quiet library. Finally he almost collapsed onto you, the last few thrusts were short but deep, pressing himself all the way inside you, Gale panting against your cheek, his eyes closed, a few unthinking kisses pressed against your cheek and jaw and lips. Then he was still, the warm weight of his body over yours, your legs still wrapped around him.

‘Gods, I needed that,’ Gale murmured, his throat sounded a little rough and dry. ‘I needed you.’ He gently cupped your face and then kissed you, now so sweetly and gentle that it felt almost impossible to think that desperate, domineering man who had yanked you into the library and this soft, sweet man were one and the same. ‘You are so beautiful, so wondrous, everything about you… gods… it’s beyond words, beyond any magic I could conjure, you are…’

‘Shh,’ you whispered. ‘You are incredible too,’ you leaned your head back again and got your breath back. ‘That was good… very good.’

‘Not too fast?’

‘I liked it fast. I liked how much you wanted me.’

‘Oh, you have no idea!’ Gale chuckled, then manoeuvred himself off you and offered a hand to help you up. He gave you one last searing kiss, his arm wrapped around your waist when he felt your knees buckle a little. He then rested his forehead against yours and you breathed in the scent of him, even if he did smell slightly of sweat, blood and ash. ‘I love you, my dearest, darling heart,’ he said.

‘I love you too.’

You both quickly tidied yourself away and headed back downstairs to join the others. At first you thought that maybe no one had missed you, that everyone was so busy talking and celebrating the battle being won and done, that you had timed your little jaunt well. But as you walked down the stairs Astarion caught your eye. He raised an all too familiar mocking eyebrow and smirked. 

‘Where were you?’ he asked.

‘Just seeing if there was anything in the library worth taking,’ you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

‘Well evidently you found something worth the taking!’ he teased, pointedly staring at Gale who had been pulled into a conversation with Jaheira and Halsin. ‘Or was it Gale who did the taking?’