#there's only so much mindful breathing I can do before it drives me crazy too

[natjennie]

that's so annoying :(

[feralgirlfeelings]

miguel o'hara breeding kink smut cause i'm ovulating rn

pairing: miguel o'hara x female reader

tags: established relationship, breeding kink, praise kink, creampie, little bit of dumbification, little bit of orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex, female reader, afab anatomy, dom!miguel, oneshot

SO NSFW. minors dni!

spanish to english translations are at the bottom :)

word count: 992

he has you lying down with your ass up, pillow under your hips, and a firm grip on your hips. he whispers sweet nothings into your ear and about how much he wants to fuck you.

miguel slides his thick, hard cock in between your folds, soaking in your wetness, before lining himself up at your entrance. he slowly pushes into your tight cunt.

"fuuuck, i missed this," miguel groans, holding back the urge to plunge deep inside you. you bury your face into the sheets as you feel the mild ache of being stretched out. he continues to slide in until he reaches the hilt, his tip pushing against your cervix.

he pauses to give you a moment to adjust to his girth. you feel so full, you can barely breathe. "go slow miguel, you're too big," you whine.

he chuckles, "lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño." he starts to pump into you, straining to keep a slow pace. your heavy breaths and soft moans fill the room.

as he slowly thrusts his dick into your tight cunt, the previous sting of being stretched transforms into a throbbing pleasure.

you feel a coil start to form in your lower abdomen and your moans start to get louder, his gentle pace no longer being enough for you. "mm, fuck me harder, miguel," you plead.

"anything for you, my princesa." he tightens his grip on your hips as he drags his dick out until his tip is just slightly kissing your entrance. he then slams his hips against you, driving his cock so deep inside you, you swore you felt it in your stomach.

you weren't prepared for the sheer power that this man is fucking you with. he thrusts into you at a dizzying pace and you can barely choke out his name.

"te sientes tan bien." he slaps your ass, delivering a sharp sting that makes you inhale sharply, "fuck you're so tight." he grabs your asscheek, groaning at the site of himself sliding in and out of you.

you moan in response, barely comprehending what he was saying. you were so fucked out of your mind and could only focus on the orgasm that you were so close to having.

just as you feel yourself almost reach your peak, miguel pulls out, leaving you empty. your poor walls clench around nothing. "miguel!" you whine in protest, "put it back in!"

he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. "i want to see your pretty face when you cum." he separates your folds with his cock, rubbing against your sensitive clit. you wrap your arms and legs around him and he buries his head into the crook of your neck, before plugging you back up again.

all you can do is mumble his name over and over again as he continuously rams into you. every pump delivering mind-numbing pleasure. the orgasm you were robbed of had crept back, and once again you felt a tightness in your stomach.

"i'm gonna fill you up, fuck a baby into you," he groaned in between the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your soft flesh.

his words drive you crazy. the thought of being stuffed full of miguel's hot, thick cum brought you closer to the edge. he knows you're close, so he pounds into you faster and harder, chasing your release.

pressure builds until you feel the tension wound in your stomach burst. you cry out his name as your walls contract and you cream around his cock. he groans at the feeling of the added slick and your pussy squeezing around his dick.

he doesn't stop after you come down from your high. "you did so good, mami," he whispers in your ear, "ahora es mi turno." he holds you in place by your hips and fucks his dick into you, driven by a primal desire to fill you with his seed.

you're overstimulated and fucked out, your body limp and your eyes rolled back. all you could think about was how badly you wanted to be bred by miguel. "m-miguel," you stutter, "breed me. p-please."

"te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada. you're gonna make such a pretty mommy. f-fuck—" his thrusts get more erratic as he inches closer to his peak. he groans out your name before slamming your hips down onto his dick. he shutters as he releases thick ropes of cum into your desperate cunt, flooding your velvety walls. all you manage to do is let out some strained moans. nothing mattered more in that moment than you taking his seed. he makes sure to stuff his cum deep inside you, his tip jamming the entrance to your fertile womb. he pauses for second to catch his breath, before slowly rolling his hips, just to make sure he gave you every last drop.

he stops thrusting and collapses on top of you, but keeps you plugged up with his dick. his excess seed starts to dribble out of you. you're both panting, sweaty, and exhausted. he moves the hair out of your face and meets your lips with his for a gentle kiss. "look what you do to me. me vuelves loco, cariño,"

you let out a weak giggle, "you want my babies?" you ask playfully. you tangle your fingers in his hair, lazily combing through his messy locks.

"yeah," he returns a chuckle, "you're too pretty to not breed." he starts peppering your face and neck with pecks. "eres mi bonita esposa."

"i think you'd make a great father," you smile warmly and interlock your fingers with his. "you know...usually it takes a few tries before it takes."

"oh?" he asks amusingly, "well, i guess i'll have to fill you up again."

you feel his dick start to harden again inside of you. you brace yourself for another round.

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

translations: ("lo estás haciendo muy bien, cariño" -> "you're doing so good, sweetheart") ("te sientes tan bien" -> "you feel so good") ("ahora es mi turno" -> "it's my turn now") ("te voy a llenar con mi semen, te voy a follar hasta que estés embarazada" -> "i'm gonna fill you up with my cum, fuck you till you're pregnant") ("me vuelves loco, cariño" -> "you drive me crazy, sweetheart") ("eres mi bonita esposa" -> you're my pretty wife")

hope you enjoy!!! >:0 btw this is my first time writing a fic that included dialogue in spanish, so idk if things are all well-written or gramatically correct. i tried to take some tips from spanish-speaking miguel o'hara enjoyers, but if anyone wants to correct anything or give me tips, i'm super super open to it!

[bookishdreamer28]

This man and his damn sexy voice was all I could think about, so hope you'll enjoy this one <33

"Where were you all this time?!"Sylus appeared in front of you in an instant once you walked in home, looking extremely worried. And to be honest, you couldn't blame him. His life was full of dangerous things and before he met you, it was easy to deal with them. No fear to eat him alive every day, no endless text messages just to make sure that you were ok, no sleepless nights just to make sure that you will always lay right in his arms.

But even though he knew how dangerous things were, a selfish side of him made him see just how calm and perfect everything seemed when you were around.

"Hello to you too"

"Y/N I swear-"

"Stop stressing over nothing. Everything's fine. I'm here now as you can see." You laughed lightly and gently touched the side of his face, caressing it. Sylus exhaled a long breath at the warmth he suddenly felt on his cheek, and his heart. You were unharmed. You are ok. No need to worry.

He turned his head away from your touch and you felt a bit taken aback.

"Love I-"

"You know, at least a message would have made me a little less paranoid" There he was. The grumpy but caring man you so adoringly love.

"Next time I'll consider doing this first"

"Next time?!! Oh no there won't be next time. If it necessary I'll glue myself on your side just to make sure that no one will harm you." He followed closely behind you as you walked in your room. You sat on the bed and started taking off your shoes but Sylus kneeled right in front of you to it himself.

"Let me take care of you sweetie" Ah this nickname. Never getting old when you hear it coming from him. His voice has been making you feel things since day 1.

You stared at his face as you noticed that he still had his eyebrows furrowed. Like he was still pissed about something.

"Sylus, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that- you're driving me crazy" He was face to face with you now, an angry look on his face. His thump brushed your lower lip gently and you felt the heat rising.

"You're driving me so crazy, that there are times were I hate it" he leaned in to tease your lips with a small peck "and other's I want to do nothing more but kiss you for hours" and that's what he did next. He collided his lips with yours, all the tension running through your bodies wild.

"These lips of yours" he said in between the kisses "will always have me on my knees for a taste".

His hands went slowly down to your waist, as he picked you up in his arms so he can sit down on the bed and let you rest on his lap. The kisses did not stop for hours but once you eventually stopped, Sylus made sure to take care of you just like he promised. You ate your dinner, prepared the bed and once you laid your head on his chest and his arms engulfed you in a sweet hug, he felt happy. Happy cause you are here. With him.

"What's in your mind sweet girl?" His voice soft. His hand rubbed soft circles on your arm and you looked up at him.

"Nothing I just...I love you. So much" you nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck. If only you could see his face right now. These three words leaving your mouth always made him weak. So damn weak, that the thought of having someone like you loving him, felt like a dream to him. A dream that he afraid that it was going to stop amd then wake up back to the harsh reality. But he wouldn't let anyone or anything take you from him. The reason of his happiness.

He stared down at you, with so much love in his eyes as he replied:

"I love you" His softly grabbed your chin, bringing you closer to his face so he can seal his lips with yours into another feverishly kiss.

[hoshifighting]

Is he out of his mind or smth 😃😃?? I desperately need u to do something about these pics cause I'm going insane 🥰

ohhh voyeurism + blowjob addiction with soonyoung.

a/n: this man is going to fucking make me go crazyyyyy.

WARNINGS: voyeurism, blowjob, 'sex tape', public sex, him recording his face instead of you sucking him + you saving the video for yourself so you can watch alone later.

you never thought you’d be the kind of person to get off on the thrill of almost getting caught, but with soonyoung, it’s like you can’t help yourself. maybe it’s the way he looks at you when you’re out in public, eyes dark with want, that little smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. or maybe it’s the way he whispers in your ear, voice low and teasing, “baby, how about right here?” and suddenly, you’re down on your knees in the most unexpected places.

you’ve blown him in some crazy spots—on a boat, the gentle rocking of the waves barely enough to mask the sound of your gagging; on a balcony, the open air making it all feel so much more daring; even in the bathroom of some fancy party, your dress hitched up, knees on cold tile, just minutes before you were expected back in the crowd, looking prim and proper like you hadn’t just had soonyoung’s cock down your throat.

“you’re so fucking good at this,” he groans, fingers tangled in your hair as you bob your head, taking him deeper. his voice is wrecked, and it sends a shiver down your spine. you know he loves it when you go all out, sucking him like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted to do, and honestly, with how he’s moaning your name, it feels like that might be true.

but it’s not just the thrill of doing it anywhere, anytime. it’s the way soonyoung loves to keep little mementos of your escapades. he’s got videos saved on a secret drive, clips of you on your knees, eyes watering as you take him all the way down, or that one time on the balcony where you had to cover your mouth with your hand because you were getting too loud. you don’t mind though—you like knowing that when he’s alone, he’s probably watching those videos, getting off to the sight of you looking up at him with that needy look in your eyes.

today it was just supposed to be a quick, dirty escape—soonyoung had suggested the gym because it was empty, and it was a place you could indulge your cravings without getting caught. the big mirror in front of you was the perfect backdrop, catching every little detail of your performance.

you’d barely had time to get him fully hard before you were on your knees, the sound of his low groans and your own soft gagging filling the room. you loved the way he watched you, his eyes dark and hungry, but tonight, he was more focused on his phone. he was filming. he was so lost in the moment that he didn’t even realize the camera had shifted angles. he was too busy watching himself in the mirror, getting off on how his own face contorted with pleasure. the video later was almost comical—his face blissed out, mouth open, eyes shut tight, and in the background, the soft sound of your gagging and his heavy breathing. there you were, but it was his face that was the real star of the show.

when you showed him the video later, you couldn’t help but laugh. “so this is what you’ve been watching?” you teased.

he grinned sheepishly, his cheeks flushing a little.

you smirked, leaning in close. “well, now this video is for me,” you whispered, pressing a finger against the screen where his face was still contorted in pleasure. “i can already imagine how hot it’s gonna be to watch this and touch myself. seeing you like that, it’s gonna drive me insane when you travel.”

his eyes widened, and he bit his lip, clearly turned on by the thought. “fuck, I didn’t realize you’d like it so much....”

[reveluving]

SHY WIFE AND PRICE....ARE YOU FREAKIN KIDDING ME!!!!!Imagine this Adonis of a man spoiling her from the first date and even her being shy, the 141(plus Kate) KNOW who's the boss( he ALWAYS have a photo and a story about Mrs.Price and it's just the cutest thing how his eyes light up that they also love her)

CUUUUUUTE AAAAAA!! GNAWING ON MY BARS RN!! And thank you for specifying the Adonis of a man bit! Can't forget about that!! ☝🏼😌💗

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

In any case of our beloved shy!wife fics, especially with his line of work, just expect your husband to have a polaroid or five of you ready.

And John is no different.

You must be a special one if you managed to catch the eyes of the captain, and to clarify, you are!

John knew there was no going back to his mundane yet chaotic lifestyle the second he asked you out. It took everything in him not to chuckle at your look of disbelief, your lips parting just a tad bit. He didn’t want you to think he was making fun of you, you were genuinely adorable with your expressiveness. And though had told him you were open to anything, even specifying that you wouldn’t mind anything small and simple, he didn’t let you.

He took you out to dinner on your first date, nothing too fancy, though that couldn’t be said the same on the later dates, gifted you a small but beautiful bouquet and the rest was history. 

And amazingly, he gets even better at spoiling you after he puts a ring on your finger. As if he wasn't already good since your first date!

Kisses or cakes, hugs or huge bouquets, he'll always find a way to spoil you. Because you—your smiles, giggles and laughs, your time and your love for him means so much.

More than you can imagine.

A sweetheart, a gentleman. You couldn’t ask for a better man to fall for you, though, like him, you were mind-blown to even think a man, no, a hunk like him showed interest in you. Made you feel wanted, special—someone he wanted to be with with zero hesitation. 

He wouldn’t be able to forget your shy smile, how you’d mindlessly trail your fingers across the table or your lap out of embarrassment, how your fingers curled around his hand, despite averting your gaze from his cheeky smile many dates later.

And though the wedding was small, to him, it felt like a sweet fairytale.

To finally be able to call you Mrs Price.

Laswell had the privilege to meet you first before everyone else. She enjoys the sisterly moments you’d have, a breath of fresh air from the craziness, to say the least, that she has to witness in her lifetime. Always appreciates you checking in on her via messages or if she’s lucky, a quick call. And it becomes a tradition of hers to jokingly remind John to take care of you and not to drive you crazy.

And then, there were the boys.

Johnny was the one who asked about you, catching the man looking at one of the polaroids of you with nothing but love in his eyes. Longing to get it over with and come home to you. Johnny didn’t think he’d be willing to talk about you at all, let alone more than a few sentences, i.e. privacy reasons or he just prefers to be on his own. Take in the quiet moment before any hell breaks loose later on.

Understandable, so imagine not only his surprise but also the rest of the 141 when he talks about you. First, with pure endearment in his tone, then the story gets romantic, cheesier even, but all three of them listened to his stories like no other (read: a father telling his kids how he met their mother), even if they acted like they were just casually fixing their weapons or thinking to themselves.

C’mon, he knows them!

Like John, you treat the boys like your very own. If Johnny, Kyle or Simon wanted to be doted over—to be cared for, something they haven’t felt in a while even if some of them wouldn’t want to admit it, then you’d give them millions! Even something as little as a handwritten message or passing them a few words i.e. take care and good luck via John.

Visiting the Price’s house now feels like a family thing. Again, it’s cheesy, it’s corny, and maybe even childish to some, for a bunch of men to be looking forward to these visits like a child being away from their parents at a dorm during college, none of you cared. Not you. Not John. And most importantly, not his boys.

None of them could have imagined your words to stick in their minds in dire times. A little motivation to return safely. Back to the base, for John, and back the Price’s home, for you.

“Johnny, I’m out of a few things in the kitchen. Could you drop by the store and get these for me, please?” “Can do!”

“Simon, have you seen John’s car keys? I can’t find them anywhere.” “I can help look for it w’you.”

“Kyle, I told you I can handle the fireplace.” “S’not that hard. Don’t worry!”

Home.

Bonus: A lil’ story I’m still working on with the COD men + dogs includes John with an American Akita. Similar to Phillip and Kai, John’s gigantic pupper tends to prefer listening to you to him.

His intolerance for certain people or animals drops in an instant the second he sees you, turning into a baby (your baby, might John add) but he also knows when duty calls. Ears tilting back and growling at a stranger who doesn’t know, or worse; ignores that you're taken.

And in John’s words: good boy.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[farshootergotme]

I get emotional thinking about how his family would react to Bruce's change if he ever started working on himself, on improving his behavior. But the one I think about the most is Dick Grayson.

Alfred is the one who was there from the very beginning, but Dick Grayson is who arrived and made the biggest impact. He's the first kid who Bruce took in, the one who approached this man and became his first partner to fight by his side out in the night.

Dick was able to pull Bruce out of the darkness that consumed him. No matter how many times Bruce went back, Dick's presence was a constant reminder that there's not only shadows. That if Bruce pushes back, fights so he won't be dragged down, he will find light.

However, it was a cycle. Dick would get him out, but Bruce would go back, sooner or later. And repeat. And Dick realized this and knew he couldn't let that be his whole life. But despite the distance, it still affects Dick knowing he can't find a definite solution for Bruce.

So, seeing Bruce actually change, get better and seeing that last...it would lift the heaviest weight on Dick's shoulders, who's felt responsible for Bruce's emotions since the day he became Robin.

It's been implied to him that Bruce needs him, that he's who keeps him from falling. And Dick, despite not always feeling like he is enough, carries with that responsibility because, deep down, he also feels like he owes it to Bruce, who Dick has needed (still needs) present in his life, too.

Bruce getting better would be like being able to breath again, but it would be so suffocating too.

Dick would happy for Bruce, for the man who raised him. He'd be relieved that the hurt will stop, for both his father and those he's continuously pushed away. But then he'll be anxious, will it really last? How long until he can be sure? And he'll be scared, does he still need him, now? Does a Batman who's gotten help still need Dick Grayson Robin? Nightwing? And lurking in the back of his mind, there'd be anger. Why now? Why after all those years? Why not before? Was Dick not enough reason to change? Was he never worth this? And shame will drown those thoughts. It's selfish, to think that way. He should be happy. He wants to be happy. He is happy. But he is also mad. He's sad and he mourns the child who never saw this side of Bruce. And most of all, he loves. He loves Bruce too much to hate him for it. No matter how angry, no matter how hurt, he loves his father and he's grateful for him, for his efforts. And all he can do is smile and congratulate him because that's everything he feels he has the right to say.

And when all is said and done, Bruce will come to him and Dick will have to face the worst part of this change;

Apologies.

If Bruce has truly changed, then he would know there's more things than he can count with his fingers that he has to apologize to his son for. And out of everything else, this is what Dick Grayson fears the most.

Dick can take it, he can hear Bruce out, but he can't unpack all the pain he's been accumulating in front of his dad. He can't bring himself to say 'I forgive you' out loud despite having convinced himself long ago that it's alright.

Bruce doesn't didn't do apologies. Things happened and then went back to normal and Dick was okay with that. He forgave him, he did. So, Bruce doesn't need to apologize, he doesn't have to make him say it out loud. He can't tell him, but he's forgiven him long ago. Even if it hurt, even if he was still resentful sometimes, even if he wanted to yell at him for it, Dick could push it all down and forgive him. Bruce shouldn't apologize, shouldn't bring it up again because Dick isn't strong enough to keep it all bottled up if Bruce starts acknowledging it, if he confirms that Dick wasn't crazy for feeling wronged and hurt.

He can take it, but he really can't.

Just thinking about it drives me crazy because, out of everyone, Dick Grayson might be the kid who's been waiting for this the longest, and who thought he'd already given up the idea of his father finding a lasting happiness that would bring permanent change in him. And it would be just so overwhelming.

[sl33paholics]

Could you write smut of Alucard from Castlevania. Maybe light praise kink and telling the reader how well she's taking him. Definitely have Alucard eat her out and grinding against the mattress while giving head.

You taste incredible

Alucard x fem!reader

Warning(s): smut (eating out), kinks involved (praise kink)

"Just like that, my dear, you're taking me so well."

The long white blonde hair man would say. With a pillow that was placed under your hips, Alucard tilts your pelvis so your feet are resting comfortably on his shoulder blades. Alucard gently pushes up on your abdomen, helping himself expose the clitoris from underneath the clitoral hood. Your legs tighten around him as he lowers himself to kiss down your thigh and slowly inch your knees higher up to make sure the friction is right. Alucard works in silence for a while, then breaks into a grin when he hears you moan. His tongue traces the outer edge of your thighs, before finding your clit again and circling it. You gasp at the jolting sensation.

Alucard is gentle with everything he does. From when you first meet him. From when you first touch his bare skin as you walk around. From when you first kiss. The man's hands move smoothly and easily, as though they've done this before and he knows exactly what to do. The vampire prince wanted to award his princess for being an amazing woman with a fantastic body. Alucard wasn't very good at giving gifts, but he did want to make you happy. So he decided he could show you how much he loved you. Not just through a physical relationship, but by showing the love in your eyes every time you look at him.

You run one of your hands through his hair, feeling the silky strands against your palm. A small groan escapes your lips, and you feel yourself getting wetter with desire.

"Do you like that?" Alucard asks in between nips on your inner thigh, his intoxicating gaze looking up at you as he watched your face contort into a blissful expression, quickly nodding as he went back to work. "You're such a treasure, my love."

Your body tingles all over, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you let out a low moan and Alucard squeezing your legs tighter, you cohuld feel his fingers work wonders on your swollen clit. Throwing your head back and letting out a loud groan, "You're doing so good, baby, I know you can pull through." You bite your lip when Alucard removes his finger from your clit, giving it gentle kisses. His breath is hot against your skin as he moves back to sucking on your clit, your moans turning louder as Alucard continues to massage your pussy. You writhe under him, "Who’s my beautiful girl?"

"M...m...me~" You moan and clutch onto the bedsheets as you watch Alucard continuing to work on you, his tongue flicking across the tip of your clit as he sucks gently. He doesn't miss a beat. It feels like you're losing your mind. Alucard was driving you crazy with pleasure. All you could think about were his fingertips moving inside of you, and the way he sucked your clit like he owned it, even when he knew it would get hard. It felt too good not to enjoy. You needed more. More stimulation. You needed him.

The rough movements you felt against yourself made you slowly come back to reality, your cloudy thoughts fading away until you realized your fiancé grinding against the bed, his eyes glazed with lust. It was only reasonable for him to pleasure himself while doing the same to his darling.

You squeal and try to sit up straight, pushing away his head, your pussy now drenched and a throbbing mess. You watched as Alucard's pupils dilate, he watches you with hungry eyes, the muscles in his jaw clenching, and the bulge in his boxers making you squirm. It looked like Alucard was ready to explode, but he couldn't restrain himself for any longer.

He moved in front of you, leaning down to capture your mouth in a heated kiss. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as your hands caress his shoulders. This was it. This was it all you've been waiting for. You both finally had your moment after months of not being able to. "Mmh, Alucard, please… please…"

Alucard didn't even need to position yourself on the bed. Your pussy soaked and exposed, legs high up and bent, an exhausted expression on your face was all he needed.

"Take it for me, I know you can. I'm going to make sure everyone knows you're mine~"

[mncxbe]

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: nsfw, age gap implied, subby men~ they cry a bit, overstimulation, wish that was me

Men who live for those few hours between work and sleep that they get to spend with you. Their job is awfully stressful– just problems after problems and incompetent underlings they need to deal with every day. There's too much responsibility, too much pressure and weight on their shoulders, but you're always there to take it away.

Men who don't even bother with pleasantries before loosening their tie and grumbling about how tiring work is. When they slump on the cushy mattress in your bedroom you're right beside them, helping them take off their clothes while you listen to them vent about their day. "Don't worry, dear, I got you" you reassure them in that soothing voice of yours and they can already feel their frustrations melting away.

Men who let you take the lead, willingly submitting to you because they're so tired of always having to be in charge and ordering people around. It's a nice change of pace– them laying limp between the crisp sheets while you rock your hips against theirs, their cock nestled deep inside your sweet cunt. In moments like these, they finally allow themselves to slip off the mask they're forced to wear every day and just be.

Men whose minds go blank when you praise them for their work. Just knowing that you appreciate and value what they do, that you acknowledge their worries makes the knot in the pit of their stomach thighten. It doesn't take long for them to grip your hips and squirm under your weight, their breath coming out quicker, shallower as gruff moans fall from their lips. When they cum their whole body tenses up, milky white seed spilling deep inside you. "You're so good for me tonight, darling. Think you can take more?" you ask and of course they can. They're good for you, always.

Men who lose all their composure after you coax a few more orgasms out of them. They can barely keep their gaze locked on yours from that sweet mixture of pleasure of pain making their head spin– it hurts, they feel like they can't physically take it anymore, but they don't have the heart to stop you. After all, this is their only escape from those straining jobs and duties and if relishing this sheer bliss meant being so vulnerable and completely at your mercy they'd gladly do it.

Men who don't bother to hide the pretty tears brimming at the corner of their eyes and choke on heavy sobs as you keep riding them. "Poor you..." you coo, brushing away the tears with your fingertips, your touch soft as silk against their rougher skin "You really needed this didn't you darling?" They nod eagerly, hissing sharply when you start bouncing on their cock again– they can feel each drag of your gummy walls against his cock and it's driving them crazy. Frankly, the fact that they're still hard after cumming so many times is a miracle, but you seem adamant to get another orgasm out of them. "Come on, you can do it just one more. Wanna make sure you really fill me up this time, ok?" you urge nonchalantly as if his lap wasn't already covered in sticky cum and slick.

Men who cry out praises and thank yous as they reach their high for the nth time that night, their back slightly arching off the bed before melting back into the mattress. They peer at you through droopy eyes, their grip on your thighs or waist loosening as you lay on their chest with their cock still sheathed inside you. Their heart flutters when you kiss their face oh so softly and lovingly, they feel so warm and welcomed in your embrace and swear they could fall asleep like this every night. But hey, they actually can and do, because you're always there for them, ready to soak them in your love.

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺: 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐢, 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐞, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐊𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐚, 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐲𝐚, 𝐅𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚, 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠)

[elenaax]

jude with virgin reader first time

It had been six months since Jude and you started dating, and in that entire time, you never had sex. You’ve done everything else. Sleep together, kiss, touch each other, but you never took it any further than that. It wasn't because you didn’t want to, no way! You wanted him so much. He was always there for you. No matter what happened, he was there.

You and Jude were in the living room, watching your favorite show on Netflix. You were sitting in between his thighs, leaning your head on his shoulder. His hands were wrapped around your waist, his eyes not leaving the tv for a moment. You wanted to get his attention, but you didn’t know how. You were wearing a very sexy set of red lingerie underneath your dress, you were prepared for it. You were planning on it.

"Babe?" you asked just above a whisper, not looking at him. He kept his gaze fixed on the screen, “Yes darling?”. Oh, how you loved when he called you darling, it made your heart flutter every single time. "I have something I need to tell you," you whispered again, this time looking up at him. He looked down at you, the look in his eyes making you weak. They were soft, yet intense at the same time. “What is it babe? You can tell me anything.” He said, his hands now massaging your upper legs as a gesture of affection.

"I-I want you to make love to me.." You said, fiddling with the ends of your dress, breaking eye contact with him. You felt him tense up, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “More than ever Jude”. You said, stroking his bottom lip with your thumb. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, but you tried to play it off.

He turned you over so you were straddling his lap, your faces only inches apart. It felt so good being this close to him. Your breath hitched as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him, your bodies basically being glued together. “Your wish is my command babe”, he said. He had a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out, lust maybe? "You'll be gentle with me, right?" you asked, biting your lip. He nodded, "I would never hurt you. You know that." He said.

He looked at you for a while, searching for any kind of discomfort before leaning in and kissing you harshly. You tried to keep up with him, your tongues fighting for dominance. His hands roaming all over your body before he broke the kiss to get rid of your dress. He couldn’t believe his eyes, the red lace bra you were wearing revealing itself, your nipples poking through the material. He ran his thumbs along them, sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.

You started to slowly grind your hips against his, the tension growing thicker with each second passing. You felt something poke on your inner thigh, you glanced down, it was Jude’s boner. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was smirking at you. He took your hand and placed it on his hard one, that was caused by you. “Do you see the impact you have on me darling? You drive me crazy, you’re so fucking beautiful”, he said in a husky tone.

You had never felt more alive than in this moment. You were turned on like never before, your mind was clouded with lust. You leaned in and kissed him. “Take me upstairs”, you whispered against his lips. You didn't have to say anything twice, he picked you up and carried you upstairs.

He gently laid you on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He spread your legs and got in between them, hovering over you. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He said. His hands running up and down your thighs, your heart pounding so loud you thought he could hear it too. He unclasped your bra and let it fall to the ground, his eyes stuck on your bare breasts. "They're perfect. Just like you." he said, taking your left nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

You let out a soft whimper, arching your back to give him better access. He switched to the right nipple, giving it equal attention. You took his head in your hands, bringing him eye to eye level with you. He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Gonna let me taste you pretty girl?” He said, taking off his shirt. You nodded at him, your eyes wandering off to his abs. “Use your words, darling.” He said sternly. “Y-yes.” You said, suddenly feeling shy about what you were about to do.

He gently took off your panties, throwing it on the ground. You closed your legs, trying to hide yourself from him. With his hand, he nudged your legs apart, “Relax for me, yeah?” he said. You took a deep breath and did as he said, lying there completely exposed in front of him.

He lowered his face towards your center, laying flat on the bed, putting your legs over his shoulders. “So fucking beautiful..” He whispered into your core, making you whimper out loud. He kissed your clit, flicking it with his tongue, sucking it in, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You had no control over the sounds you were making, "Oh God!" you cried out. "Please don't stop." He continued eating you out like a starved man, putting his middle finger into your wet entrance.

His finger kept pumping in and out of you, while his tongue worked wonders on your clit. You were a moaning mess. Jude added another finger, stretching you out. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the sensitive spots inside of you. You felt like you were about to explode, you closed your thighs around his head.

With his other hand, he forcefully pushed them open again. You tried pushing his head away, but he didn’t seem to be planning on letting go. "Stop fighting me, darling.” He whispered. Suddenly you felt a knot in your lower stomach, “J-Jude..” you whined out, not being able to form a coherent sentence. He knew you were not going to last much longer. His fingers were pounding in and out of you at a merciless pace, his tongue still working on your clit, the combination was too much to handle.

You came so hard, you screamed it out, your legs were shaking uncontrollably. Jude held you down, while still licking you, letting you ride out your orgasm. When you had finally calmed down, Jude crawled on top of you, showering you in kisses.

“You taste so fucking sweet." He whispered, kissing you again. You could taste yourself on his lips. You locked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You looked him deeply in the eyes, feeling like you were on cloud 9.

You took his face in your hand. “Fuck me.” You said, not sure of what had gotten into you. His eyes went big, he immediately got off the bed, pulling off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock sprung up, hitting his lower abdomen. You gasped when you saw his cock, wondering how on earth it was going to fit in.

“Jude, it won’t fit.” You said. “I’ll make it fit baby, dont worry. You trust me yeah?” he said looking into your eyes and getting on top of you again. “Yeah.” You said, nodding at him. He leaned forward, placing his arms on each side of your head, caging you in. “Ready?” He said, lining himself up with your entrance. You nodded, your heart beating out of your chest.

He collected your wetness by moving his cock up and down between your folds. He placed his hand on your hip, using it for leverage as he slowly entered you. You felt like the air was being knocked out of your lungs. It hurt so bad, tears prickled your eyes.

Jude kissed you softly, allowing you to moan into his mouth. He began to thrust into you slowly, but you were so tense, he couldn’t. You were so tight, so damn tight. He stopped, taking a deep breath, and kissing your forehead, "Let me in sweetheart. You gotta relax for me.” He said.

You took a deep breath, Jude wiped off the tears that had fallen down your face. You bit your lip and nodded, “Okay..” You said. He started moving in and out of you again, inch by inch, slowly, until you were used to it. You held onto his shoulders tightly, moaning incoherent words.

The pain slowly started to fade away, being replaced by pleasure. Jude was watching your facial expressions intently, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. “Judeeee, s-soo goodd.” You moaned. He started moving faster, harder, deeper. His heavy breathing turning you on even more. You had never felt anything better than this. Everything else seemed dull in comparison. This was pure ecstasy.

He hit your g-spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Oh my god, baby, baby, right there!” You screamed out. “Oh, yeah? Right here?” he said, while hitting the spot non stop. His hand sneaking in between your bodies to rub your clit. You threw your head back, gripping the sheets.

You cried it out as you came, your whole body trembling. Jude still thrusting his hips in and out of you, chasing his own high now. He groaned, before kissing you softly. "You okay?" He asked. You nodded. "Do you need a break, baby?" He asked, not wanting to hurt you any further. "No, please don't stop. I want you to finish. Please." You said, totally fucked out.

Jude’s thrusts were starting to get sloppy, his breathing getting heavier. He pulled out just in time and came on your stomach, grunting heavily. He collapsed on top of you, you ran your nails on his back, trying to calm him down.

“Baby, that was.. Amazing.” You said. He smiled, kissing your cheek, "That means a lot, especially considering how scared you were. Let's take a warm shower, shall we?” He asked, getting off the bed.

You nodded, and he helped you off the bed, walking to the bathroom. You were sore, and you knew tomorrow would be even worse, but it was all worth it. It was the best night of your life.

[leah-lover]

Drive to survive. Leah Williamson x F1!reader

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

You have always been a Ferrari girl. Ever since you were a kid, you loved everything that had to do with Ferrari. Your room was Ferrari themed, most of your birthdays were Ferrari themed, and your favorite race was Monza. Little did little you know that one day you would race in Monza but for Mercedes.

You remember a couple of years ago when Charles won at Monza. You remembered as you screamed the Italian national anthem as all the Ferrari team did.

5 years later, you were in the paddock at Monza after a crazy race calendar. You had hoped that you could sing the British national anthem this time around and do what many want you to do, which is win your first race.

As you go in your car, you taped on the number 6 in your helmet, a ritual you developed after the crash. It reminded you that you had people who rooted for you, people you loved and they loved you back. Leah couldn't come to this race this time around because she had a game a few hours before.

At the race lines you were at p3 which wasn't bad. Max Verstappen was p1 then lando norris then you and Hamilton in behind you. As the lights were red, images of the crash, the fire, the hospital, Leah’s worried face, all came rushing to your mind. You gripped your wheel as hardly as you could and breathed through your panic.

“ Calm down, please calm down “ you whispered to yourself.

You tried to breathe but it was all too much, the helmet was suffocating you, the car was suffocating you, you couldn't breathe, you froze. You were back there in the race again, helpless, almost dying.

Suddenly you remembered what happened in the morning.

“ Baby I wish I could be there.” Said Leah through facetime. She was in bed, with only a blanket covering her chest, she still had bed hair but she was all the more beautiful.

“ I wish I could be at your game. It's an important qualifier.” You responded.

“ Don't worry I will crush it and so will you. Maybe you will be on the podium. It's achievable with p3 or at least podium.”

“ I don't know. I still freeze, that crash still haunts me”

“ I know darling. You said I saved you that night right. Just remember me. Remember my face, remember that I love you and that I am so proud of you.”

“ I love you too baby.”

“ Leah.” You whispered to yourself as the lights turned green.

“ For Leah.” You whispered again as you advanced forward.

By turn one you overtook lando and took p2. You kept your focus and your position keeping a closer distance to max.

“ Box box.” Said your assistant.

As you entered the box it all came back to you again.

“ Fire, crash, max, die “ you whispered to yourself. You gripped your wheel again and breathed through your anxiety.

“ You know what you are doing this for mate you can do it.” Said your team principal through the radio. And that managed to pull you back again. You stepped on the pedal, focused, and determined to win.

It was only a matter of time for you to overtake max. P1 was your position with 10 minutes in the race. You pushed through, no thought in your head but the checkered flag.

“ It is here in Monza. The home of Ferrari, her favorite car. She won. She, the woman. Who walked out of fire only a few weeks ago. She escaped fire, she escaped death, she came back to f1 to win and she did. The first ever woman to win in Monza, the first ever woman to win in formula one. Congratulations to you.” said the commentator as you crossed the checkered flag.

Tears streamed down your face. You did it. You won despite your anxiety and PTSD.

“ Thank you. Thank you Toto. Thank you Mercedes for believing in me. We won, we did it. “ You said as you went through the cool down lap.

When you got out of the car you stood on top of it and with your fingers put the number six over your chest as fireworks went behind you. It was for Leah, this win is because of her. You then jumped to meet your team and celebrate with them.

Later you did an interview.

“ Congratulations on the win. We noticed you always have number 6 on your car, helmet, suit and when you won you did number 6 as a celebration. What does that mean?” Asked the reporter.

“ Well you know I was in a fiery crash a few weeks back and the love of my life, the woman of my dreams, helped me survive it. She was the reason I walked out of the fire, she is the reason I am alive and she is most definitely the reason I won today “

“ Can we know who she is?”

“ She is Arsenal's number 6 and England captain Leah Williamson.”

“ Congratulations on the win, and we, all the women, are thankful to Leah helping you get here.”

You then went to the podium, stood proudly as you sung the British national anthem, got a champagne shower and headed back to the garage.

Leah Williamson. My girl ❤️. Congratulations on a well deserved win. You went through a lot to be here. Proud of you.

[lovemouche]

lovesick all over my bed ౨ৎ

satoru x fem reader

18+ / mdni

It was never meant to end up like this.

Satoru had stated the boundary of no strings attached prior to entangling himself with you — metaphorically and, quite literally too. The relationship was meant to start and end with physicality only. That was the one rule he made sure to implement for himself. That was where he drew the line. 

"Y-yes. right there. Please."

And yet, these days, he's been finding himself caught in the cavern of a predicament, worn down to the point where he can't think of much, besides tangled limbs and open mouthed kisses, hot and wet as he'd breathe heavily against your form. Worn down to the point where he can't think of anything else besides you. 

Even now, as you lay underneath him, needy and bare, shaped like a deity, challenging the outline of divinity, he's still thinking of you. Always.

And it's driving him crazy, consuming every waking thought of his. Because he just doesn't know how it all led up to this. Satoru can't fathom how an inkling of affection he dismissed as nothing more than a momentary impulse burgeoned into something more profound. Into something so alarming. Into—

No. 

No. No. No.

No. He doesn't want to name the emotion just yet. He can't. Labelling it just solidifies his fear into truth, and the prospect that the feeling blossoming inside his chest aligns with what he’d dreaded feeling the most crosses every boundary he had set for himself. 

Love, the most twisted curse of all. 

"Ah, Satoru—"

The call of his name drags him out of his reverie. It's whispered softly against his skin, flushed as he clings to you desperately, secure enough to hold you in place, but never too much to hurt you. 

"Yeah?" he asks tentatively, his movements being put to a pause. After loosening his grip around your body, he shifts the bend of legs on the mattress to keep his weight from overwhelming you. "You okay, princess?" 

His hand travels from the curve of your waist to trace the outline of your jaw, carefully and, much too lovingly for someone who's only meant to use you for emotional release. "Does anything hurt?" he asks, thumbing the apple of your cheek with gentle strokes, noticing how you shiver under the touch. 

You shake your head, but it's not enough to convince him otherwise; the lack of a verbal response only has his mind flooding with concern even more, especially because you've never stopped him mid-sex. Not once in the entire seven months of your arrangement. 

"Talk to me," he encourages. 

Instinctively, you lay your hand on top of the one toying with your cheek, your fingertips lightly rubbing at his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down. Satoru feels his chest constrict. It's not a big gesture, he knows. But it feels so intimate—so sweet. 

Anyone would assume he would've gotten used to it by now, but even with familiarity and time, everything you do only seems to make his heart race even more. 

He's grateful the dim lights don't manage to catch the flush beginning to spread throughout his features, but he's certain you can feel the way his cock hardens inside you, even if you don't comment on it—which he's also grateful for.

God, he's hopeless. 

The control you have over him is dangerous, he realizes. Part of him wants to pull away before any damage can be done. But the other, bigger part welcomes the peril with open arms. 

"It's just..." you trail off, letting out a sigh of frustration as you try to find the right words. 

"Should I pull out?" 

"No," you huff, tone authoritative. Out of reflex, your legs tighten around him, thighs caging his waist to keep him in place—because you definitely don't want him to pull out. Not with how good he's filling you up right now. "Just... shut up for now." 

Satoru acquiesces to your request. Despite his reservations, he nods, albeit a bit reluctantly, and makes a testament to his obedience by pretending to zip his mouth up with pinched fingers. 

"You just... seem a little out of it nowadays, like you're distracted. So I wanted to know if you were okay."

You take a brief pause. Satoru waits with bated breath. 

"We're friends too, you know? You can talk to me about these things. It doesn't always have to be sex," you add softly, probing gently to gauge the situation while making sure to leave enough room for him to make the decision to open up. Because really, he doesn't owe you any explanation. 

He doesn't owe you anything at all.

Satoru feels his heart swell, pressing up against his sternum, too big for his chest—everything he feels for you is too much for him to carry. 

I know, he thinks bitterly to himself. That's the problem. I don't want to be your friend anymore. 

But he doesn't want to lose you either, and he knows that if he let the dam break, if he let loose every emotion he's been struggling to keep at bay, he'd only ruin everything. 

He'd lose you. And he'd lose himself in the process.

So Satoru parries your question with ease, because honesty isn't his forte—both towards you and himself. 

"Nothing's wrong," he insists, raising an arm to pin your hand up against the bedsheet, intertwining your fingers with his. "Don't worry." 

Resting his forehead on top of your sweat kissed one, he resumes his movements languidly. "Just...just focus on how good I'm making you feel, o—oh—okay?" 

He trips on his words at the sensation of being sucked in and out of your sweet cunt, and he prays—god, he prays—that the feeling of being inside you is enough to compensate for not having you entirely, even if just for a moment. 

But it's not enough, and Satoru can't help but feel that it never will be. 

He slides in and out of you, his desire heavy. And you moan in response, chest rising from the laboured breaths that follow each sinful thrust, hips gyrating automatically to match his pace. 

And it feels good. It feels so fucking good. But the pleasure isn't enough to cloud his senses and dispel his anxiety. Because he's looking at you and his heart is already tugging at its seams. And Satoru feels helpless. 

And he's not sure what it is—if it's the high that ensues being wrapped around your tight walls, or the way you fit so perfectly against him, as if you were made to be held by him, as if he was made just to hold you—but something about tonight has him desperate for more than just late night messages that lead to loveless fucking. 

Something about tonight has him desperate for all of you. Mind and body, heart and soul. 

The notion is heady, and the revelation steals his breath. It roots itself inside his chest and demands his attention, aching to be acknowledged. 

He's so caught up in his head, so lost in thought that he doesn't even register the fact that his movements have been put to a halt and his cock has stilled inside you. Not until you press a shaky palm to his chest in worry.

"Hey," you breathe out. "What's wrong?"

Satoru has to bite his tongue to refrain from telling you that: everything is. There are so many things he wants to tell you, but he's scared it'll poison every next moment. He's scared he'll lose you in the only way he knows he can have you. 

Everything is wrong, he wants to say.

Instead, he stays quiet. 

There an ugly feeling gathering in the pit of his stomach. He wants, so badly, to say something—anything. But he can't. The only reaction he can offer you is the widening of eyes, and his mouth parting in shock before his lips purse into a disappointed frown.

Being in... fuck he'll name it. Being in love shouldn't indemnify him from acting like an idiot, but love has a way of blurring all reason, all rationality. 

He waits for you to speak again, unwilling to break the silence himself—too afraid of what might follow, too afraid that you've already seen right through him.

And he feels pathetic, of course, for being reduced to such a scattered mess, because he's supposed to be the strongest. And for the most part, he is. He really is. But when it comes to you, he can't seem to live up to that title. When it comes to you, he can't seem to be anything else but yours. 

The yearning—to mean something more to you, to be everything to you—settles in his bones. It's draining his soul. He's standing on the edge of a cliff, left to teeter somewhere in between unbridled emotion and self restraint. It's a precarious position to be placed in, and he's hanging by a mere thread. 

Seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity. The air feels like it's heavy with impending demise, and the silence engulfs him like black tar. It's suffocating, to say the least. Satoru isn't sure if he wants to prolong the moment or get it over with. He feels his heart pound against his chest—that treacherous thing.

So when you finally say something, he breaks.

"Satoru, what's wrong?" 

He falls apart. 

"I'm sorry," he chokes out, voice timid and exceptionally apologetic, head hanging low in refusal to meet your eyes. The sight of him is pitiful; you can't, for the life of you, understand why.

It's strange seeing Satoru in such a vulnerable state. Not because you don't assume he doesn't have his own baggage to carry, but because you never thought he'd be willing to expose this side of himself to you.

It's everything out of the ordinary, like witnessing god crumble at your feet, or having an executioner beg to be pardoned for all his killings.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. Only this time, it feels more resigned, like he's admitting defeat. It almost feels like he's apologising to you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But how could that be? and why would it ever be?

"What? Sat—ah."

Satoru falls slack on top of you, pressing the weight of his body against yours. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, chin moving to rest on your shoulder as he evades your gaze. You feel his hands travel south as he continues whispering a mantra of apologies into your skin.

It's a vain endeavour, trying to lift yourself up to get him to talk to you properly. The grip on your hip keeps you anchored, leaving you no room for anything other than compliance; it's as if he's scared you'll leave if he lets go even for a second.

And honestly, he is. 

"Satoru. Don't be like this please."

"I'm sorry," is all he says. 

"Satoru, look at—"

"No."

"Look at me." 

"I'm an idiot."

"No," you interject. "You are not."

"But I am." It's muffled, his voice. A Little shaky too. "I know I'm an idiot, so don't," he pleads. "Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me right now. I can't." 

"You need to tell me what's wrong."

"You're going to hate me. I'm going to ruin everything."

"How?" 

"I'm sorry."

"Satoru."

"I'm sorry," he repeats, his grip on you tightening, fingernails digging soft crescents into your skin. "I'm sorry; I got too greedy." 

Your eyebrows pinch. 

Satoru can practically feel your confusion, and he wants to die, because you don't get it. You just don't get it. Not at all. Not one bit. Not until he whispers five words that knock all the air out of your lungs:

I love you. I'm sorry.

There's a pregnant pause, hesitant, unsure. And then:

"Wha—what? No. You—you're lying." 

Satoru shakes his head in disagreement, vehemently refusing your claim. 

Lying? How could he ever lie about such a thing? He could feign indifference at most, try to brush past it and let the feeling linger until it subsides. But he can't, and it hasn't, and he's tired of pretending that he doesn't love you anymore. Because he does. He loves you too much to push those feelings away. 

"It's true," he admits. "I—I tried not to... you know? I tried not to—fuck, I'm sorry." 

The confession should have lifted the burden, or at the very least, eased it. But his lips struggle to form words, and his heart ricochets against his ribcage. 

"Look at me," you implore.

"No."

He's certain you must hate him now. That by tomorrow, or tonight even, he'll leave the place—the person—he's associated with home as nothing more than a stranger. 

Even worse, a mistake. 

"Please?" 

But your arms crawl to wrap around his torso, and your legs squeeze around his own in silent reassurance, like you're trying to convey to him that you're not going anywhere. And if that isn't enough to convince him to listen, Satoru doesn't know what is. 

When he finally raises his head, your eyes linger on the contours of his face, studying his crestfallen expression. He's anguished, that's for sure. You just can't wrap your head around the fact that it's probably you who's causing his misery. 

Because Satoru is... well, Satoru—he's the strongest.

So who are you to be able to wreck him this much?

"Do you..." you swallow, still unconvinced, words quieting down to a whisper. "Do you really love me?" 

Without looking at you, Satoru nods. it's not enough of an answer, though. 

"Tell me, please." 

He lets out a slow, shuddering exhale, chest stuttering on his next breath. He's silent for a few seconds, thinking. Until finally, with a slight crack to his voice, he says. "I do." very tremulously. "I love you." 

Which is painful to admit, because he doesn't even know what to do now that it's been said. Satoru's not sure how he can give you something he's never been shown. He's not even sure if he deserves it, or if you'll even want his affection. 

But there's so much of it, so much love growing in his chest that he fears it'll crack his ribs. So he's willing to try, even if it might ruin him in the process, 

He's willing to do anything, so long as it's for you. 

It's as simple as that, really. 

"You're lying. I—you can't be serious."

Well, maybe not really.

"I am." Satoru nods pathetically, like a wounded puppy, like his heart is in tatters because you can't believe him even after he's laid himself so embarrassingly bare like this. "I love you." 

"But you said—"

"I know," Satoru interrupts, and his lips are bowed. "I know. I'm a hypocrite. I got too selfish. But I can't help it anymore, I'm sorry. I love you too much to push these feelings away." 

Satoru feels every muscle in your body go stiff at the admission. You're rendered speechless, once again; hesitant in your words, even more so in your actions. And he feels like he's made a grave mistake, that right then and there, he's ruined everything—he's lost you.

But then the right corner of your mouth quirks, hinting at the faintest of smiles, and an obtrusive feeling of hope sparks within him, fizzling out his nerves like cheap soda. 

"Why would you be sorry?" you scold, flicking his forehead. "The only thing you should be sorry about is worrying me. Do you know how scared I was seeing you go MIA while you were still inside me?"

"I'm still inside," he reminds you. 

You groan. "this is not the time." 

"I know." He frowns, but the tension from earlier is nowhere to be found, and Satoru feels even more at ease now that you've begun playing with his hair, twirling the strands between your fingers. "I'm sorry. I don't really know what else to say." 

"You don't need to say anything else."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"You aren't upset or anything?"

"Why would I be?"

"I don't know." He lowers his head to rest on top of your chest, all watery and emotional, pressing his cheek just above where your heart lies to find solace in the rhythmic pitter patter of beats. "I just expected you'd be mad or... disappointed, you know?" 

"Well I'm not, so don't worry about anything, okay?"

"Okay," he hums.

You don't say anything after that. Neither does he. It's quiet for a while, and you take the time to think while basking in the afterglow of such a raw moment. 

It's all still so surreal. 

You feel like the universe is playing a prank on you, like Satoru's orchestrating a sick, cruel joke to mess with your system. But you're cradling his head in your hand, lovingly tracing arbitrary shapes on his scalp, and you swear you can hear how fast his heart is racing. 

It's in tandem with yours.

And perhaps, that's all that matters. 

Maybe you were an idiot not to have realised it sooner. Maybe you were just in denial too. But it's as clear as day now, and you really can't deny the fact that it has always felt like you and Satoru were made for each other. Because when you take his hand into yours, and it feels like the spaces between your fingers were shaped just to hold him like this, you're certain that it's always been more than just sex. 

"Satoru?"

"Yeah?"

"Me too."

He gives you a quizzical look. You smile.

"I love you too."

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (3)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

Did I already post today? Yes. Did I also post two chapters of Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins today? Yes. I am just incredibly productive today, who knows when it's gonna happen again lol

Anyway, finally! The next B-Side! This bitch has been stewing my guys, so I hope you enjoy it lol

There are two memes at the very end of this one, so definitely stick around

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't 😘

--------

For four weeks, Eddie feels himself losing his mind. He finds gifts in his locker every other day, and he's convinced they're from Steve Harrington. He now has a taxidermied bat, a fancy-looking vial with a skull and crossbones embossed in the glass and filled with mysterious liquid, an actual human skull that Eddie immediately incorporates into his next campaign, and a spider. An actual spider. A live spider that, after a little research, he learns is a fucking Black Widow that seems unnaturally friendly.

Eddie can't stress that part enough. Multiple people have mistaken the spider for an intricate vest patch because it just sits perfectly still over his chest pocket. It only moves to rub its head against Eddie's fingers whenever his hand passes over it, and even then it's careful to avoid hurting him with its pincers.

He names her Nox.

Those aren't the only gifts he's received, but they're the most notable, and Eddie is overwhelmed and flustered by the positive attention he's suddenly receiving.

The other thing driving him crazy is Pubert Addams, a guy Eddie had never paid much attention to before but now considers his mortal enemy. He's convinced Pubert is, at worst, potentially abusive or, at best, delusional and taking advantage of Steve's kindness and inability to brutally turn him down. Or maybe Eddie is the crazy one; he doesn't actually know. Whichever it is, Eddie is ready to take the very nice dagger he now has (gift number 15; yes, Eddie has been counting) and stab him with it.

Because he can't get more than two minutes alone with Steve before Pubert appears out of nowhere. Eddie runs into Steve in the hall while everyone else is in class? Pubert shows up with a hall pass two seconds later and literally waltzes Steve away from him. Eddie finds Steve camped out in the library during study hall? Pubert materializes in the chair next to Steve before Eddie can sit down, leaning far too close as he asks Steve to explain something from their shared Gothic Literature class. Eddie, by some miracle, is behind Steve in the lunch line (and he calls this a miracle because Steve always brings his lunch in a pink box with black skulls, which Eddie considers incredibly brave of him to carry around like it's nothing)? Before Eddie can do more than say hi and get a blinding smile in return, Pubert fucking Addams shows up and drags Steve away while promising to share his lunch.

Eddie is just about to lose the last shred of patience he's struggling to maintain when Steve finds him. Ironically, it's the same bathroom where they first talked, the one with mysterious mold growing in the corner that Eddie is convinced is some new species. It's the only bathroom with a busted smoke detector, and Eddie goes there to get high during his free period.

He's halfway through a joint, smoke curling around him as he sits on the sink counter and tries not to think about what else has been there, when the door swings open, Steve walks in, and Eddie chokes on his inhale.

"Don't die like this," Steve says, stepping closer and patting Eddie's back like they know each other, "It's no fun."

Eddie finally gets himself under control, taking a deep breath and wincing at the way his lungs burn. "No worries," he croaks out, regretting the departure of Steve's hand on his back. "What are you doing here? Please don't tell me you plan to use this bathroom."

"As curious as I am about the bacteria teeming on these toilet seats, no." Steve sounds genuine, like he really does want to swab the toilet seats and see what grows. Instead, he places his bag on the sink and pulls out a familiar vial with a familiar skull and crossbones. "I just came to drink."

"Oh?" Eddie says, leaning forward with a grin. He looks Steve up and down, taking in the pale blue sweater vest and immaculately pressed jeans. "You don't look the drinking type, Stevie."

Steve hums, popping the cork out of the vial and taking a swig from it. "This isn't exactly hard stuff," he says after he swallows, distracted enough that Eddie thinks he misses his eyes lingering on Steve's throat as it bobs.

"Just beer then?"

"What?" Steve asks, looking at Eddie like he's delusional. "No, it's cyanide and vinegar."

He says it with such conviction that Eddie believes him despite knowing cyanide is poison. "Metal," he says, looking away to take another drag of his joint as he struggles to break through his own awkwardness and hold a conversation that will somehow sweep Steve off his feet and make him forget all about Pubert Addams.

Before he can think of something clever and smooth and funny, Steve leans close and raises a hand to his chest. Eddie is about to warn him that Nox is, in fact, real when the spider scuttles onto Steve's fingers and settles in his palm. She does a little up-and-down motion, circles in his hand twice, and rubs her head against his wrist. "You've been taking good care of her," Steve says.

"Uh, yeah. How is she not biting you right now?" Eddie asks, remembering all the times Nox has warningly snapped at others who tried to touch her.

Steve snorts and allows Nox to return to her spot on Eddie's vest. "I raised her," he says, his tone casual like he isn't admitting to showering Eddie with inexplicable gifts for the past four weeks, "of course, she won't bite me."

"So, it has been you," Eddie replies, wanting to hear it from Steve himself.

With a soft hum, Steve takes another sip from his bottle. "Who else would it have been?"

Eddie licks his lips, takes another drag of his joint to brace himself, and hops off the counter. "So, uh, does that mean you li--"

Before the rest of the question can be asked, the bathroom door swings open again, and Eddie feels his eye twitch as Pubert Addams frowns at them. "So, this is where you were," he says, walking over to Steve and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he stuffs the vial back into his bag.

Pubert looks Eddie over, a derisive huff escaping him as he dismisses Eddie and looks at Steve. "On the other side of the school? Really?" he asks, and Eddie would be overthinking what that means if he weren't sure his veins were about to burst.

"We were talking, you know," Eddie says, gaining Pubert's attention again. Steve looks at him, too, his eyes a little brighter.

"I'm sure," Pubert replies, rolling his eyes as he takes Steve's bag. "And now we're leaving." With that, he leads Steve out of the bathroom, the door swinging shut before Steve can do more than smile apologetically and wave.

Anger surges through Eddie, and the shaky drag he takes to finish off his joint does absolutely nothing to soothe it.

He's going to kill Pubert Addams.

--------

Funnily enough, Steve's mother doesn't learn about his crush until he's five weeks into it. When Debbie finally does discover the crush, it's because she walks in on Fester and Steve decorating homemade cookies shaped like anatomically correct hearts. She pauses in the doorway, looking between the two covered in flour and raspberry jam, and asks, "What on earth is going on here?"

Steve looks up, sees this as his chance to finally tell Debbie, and smiles brightly at her. "I'm in love, Mother. He's allergic to raspberry, and Father agreed to help me make him cookies with raspberry filling, so he can feel the same breathlessness I do when I see him," he explains, using his thumb to wipe raspberry jam off his cheek.

Debbie stares at him for a few seconds before looking at Fester. "How long have you known?" she asks.

"Five weeks," Fester admits, looking apologetic. "I wanted to tell you, Pumpkin! But Steve asked me not to so he could tell you himself."

She sighs and walks over to the island, sitting on the edge of a stool and taking one of the cookies for herself. She bites off a pulmonary vein, looking thoughtful as she chews. "I must admit, these are damn good cookies," she finally says, taking one more bite before passing it to Fester to finish. "Tell me about him."

And Steve does. He gushes about Eddie for a solid hour without taking a single breath, spilling everything he's seen Eddie do and how he's reacted to all of Steve's gifts and how he gets so obviously jealous when Pubert butts into their conversations. He tells Debbie about Eddie not screaming when he saw Nox, about him selling drugs, and about his interest in music. Steve laments his hair but eagerly describes the treatment routine he already has in mind.

By the time he's done, the cookies are decorated and his mother's expression has grown a little pained. "Steve, darling, come with me," she says, getting up from the chair and leading him out of the kitchen while Fester starts to clean up.

Steve waits until Debbie has brought him to her spare room to ask, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Well, did you remember my rules about crushes?"

"Yeah. I've talked to him a lot."

Debbie smiles and brings Steve over to the bed, sitting him down and straightening his hair before perching next to him. "Then, you're not in trouble, but you've been going about this all wrong, dear."

"Should I tell Pubert to stop making Eddie jealous?"

"Absolutely not," Debbie says, shaking her head firmly. "In fact, he could try harder. Nothing gets to a man like someone he can't have, especially if he thinks they're in distress."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly as he tries to figure out where, exactly, he's gone wrong. Eddie seems perfectly enamored with him, after all, and Pubert's goading is encouraging his affections, which is the only reason Steve has allowed it to continue. "Did I give him a live spider too soon?" Steve asks, figuring that's the problem here.

"No, that's not...," Debbie trails off, mutters something about Fester being an idiot, and clears her throat. "Steve, your father is the last person you should approach for love advice."

"But...you agreed to marry him, so he must have done something right," Steve says.

Debbie barks a laugh, waving her hand dismissively. "I married your father for his money. I attempted to kill his entire family and only stopped when he promised to give me everything I asked for. I would hardly call him a casanova."

Steve nods along, smiling a little as she speaks. He's heard their great love affair many times, but he doesn't get tired of it. "But you actually love him anyway, right? Father says it's because he showered you with gifts. So, that's what I'm doing."

"I...do love your father," Debbie admits, sighing as though she doesn't know how that happened either. "But it's less because of his gifts and more because...he gave me the devotion I wanted. Anyway, if you learn anything from us, it should be that love comes second."

"What comes first?"

Debbie smiles, the expression positively devious, and Steve can't help returning it. "Obsession," she says, her shoulders rolling back some as pride fills her. "Occupy his every waking thought. Make yourself irresistible. Make him dream of you at night. Overwhelm him with desire until he simply must act on it."

"Oh," Steve says, thinking of how his father acts around Debbie and realizing that obsession never quite went away. But it's worked out well for them, and he knows his mother has experience with luring men into her arms. He nods once and asks, "So, what should I do?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Debbie says, her smile bright and her eyes filled with excitement. "You'll have Eddie falling to his knees before you in no time."

--------

Eddie didn't think it could get worse. He was already attracted to Steve, already distracted by every little movement.

He was wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Because here he is, his mouth dry and his palms sweaty and his cheeks warm because of Steve. He's not even doing anything. Well, that's not true. Steve is curling his tongue around a lollipop before sucking it into his mouth like he'll die without it. But it's more than that. It's the painted-on jeans that hug his legs; it's the pastel pink hoodie (with little bats on the cuffs) that rides up whenever Steve moves to show off a strip of skin just above his waistband; it's the way he finishes the lollipop and pulls out lipgloss, casually telling Pubert it's raspberry flavored as he puts it on.

Eddie swallows around the dryness in his mouth, gripping his locker door so tight that his knuckles turn white as he looks inside it. Sitting innocently on top of everything is a Tupperware container of cookies with raspberry filling (according to the label), and Eddie is ready to eat one just so he can die knowing what Steve's lips taste like.

That's not even the worst of it. The worst is that Steve transfers into Eddie's Music Theory class, smiling innocently while the teacher introduces him and then directs him to sit at the empty desk next to Eddie. When he's close, Eddie realizes Steve smells like cookies and cream ice cream, and he's tempted to ask if Steve smells like his favorite flavor on purpose.

The teacher saves him from the embarrassment of blurting out the question by announcing a project. The teacher then dooms him by telling everyone they're required to work with their desk neighbor. Eddie grips his pen tightly when the teacher tells them to spend the rest of their class time discussing the project.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention. When he looks over, Steve is leaning forward on his desk, chin propped in his hand as he looks at Eddie. "Want to come over to my place after school? To work on the project, I mean."

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds, his tongue stuck in his throat. To his credit, Steve doesn't say anything or call Eddie out for staring at him. He just waits patiently with a little smile curling his lips. Eddie finally clears his throat, his voice coming out a little strained when he says, "Yeah, sure, sounds good. After school. Your place. Project."

Smooth. Real smooth.

When Steve just smiles wider and stretches his arms above his head, pulling his hoodie up, while suggesting they do the project on the evolution of heavy metal music, Eddie realizes he's probably going to die after school.

He can't wait.

-------

Tag List (I think there's still room for a few more people ^_^)

@estrellami-1, @itsall-taken, @mugloversonly, @fandomcartographer, @hippielittlemetalhead, @agree2disagre-kicks, @ledleaf, @just-a-tiny-void, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @ink1177, @maya-custodios-dionach, @littlebluejane, @steddieonbigboy, @ravenpainter, @read-write-thrive, @deadontheinside20, @yeahhhh-suga, @nectandra, @mogami13, @mx-jinxous, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @xoxoladyclara

@zaddipax, @dycte, @breealtair, @geekymagicalpotato, @janea-grill, @juliasthename-adhdismygame, @yikes-a-bee, @wayward-people, @st-fics, @disrespectedgoatman, @bipusssy, @cottagecorebutnaturescaresme, @nightowl14028018, @that-binchh, @your-confused-friend, @irethsune, @goosesister, @strawberryyyenthusiast, @irregular-child, @theverywest

And, finally, a two-for-one meme special because I couldn't decide which was funnier:

[daenysx]

omg just read all of your aemond fics and 😭😭😭 actual perfection !!!! thank you for sharing your writing!!

not sure if this is a type of request that would interest you but maybe modern!aemond finding out you somehow got injured? not a creative prompt but we love a protective/possibly overreacting aemond with some fluff hehe 💙

thank you so much for reading them, angel, i really hope you like this <333

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

cw; stitches, reader cuts her hand and needs stitches but nothing graphic

it was a nice plan overall, really. you were sure everything would go alright, imagining the perfect outcome as you keep moving in kitchen.

well, until you had a work accident anyway.

"can i call my boyfriend real quick before you start?" you ask the doctor as you sit down, your injured hand feeling numb with all the adrenaline.

"of course." she answers. "we can start after."

you take your phone, press aemond's contact, and beg internally for him to be available. you don't think you can get your hand stitched without him honestly and the idea of him being in a meeting right now makes your stomach turn.

"hello?" he answers. "sweetheart?"

"hi." you say, your voice coming out weaker than you intend to. "is this a good time?"

"of course." he says. "what happened? something wrong?"

he's picking up the clues quickly, first of all why do you sound like that? and second why is he hearing some weird noises on the background?

"um- i'm at a hospital right now." you say, biting your bottom lip, telling him the name of the hospital after that. you need to lay out the details nice and slow, otherwise he'll drive like crazy to be here. "i was cooking dinner and i cut my hand."

"are you okay?" he asks, concern dripping from his voice. "what will they do?"

"the doctor's saying i need stitches." you explain. "i'm okay, i just- can you come here if there's nothing important you have over there?"

you hear some noises like a pushed chair and grabbed keys, aemond suddenly starts breathing quicker. "you are crazy if you think i'll work when you're literally getting stitches." he says. "i'll be there in ten minutes, okay?"

"aemond, please drive safe." you say, because it should normally take at least 15 minutes to get here from his office. you know he won't listen, he tends to be very irresponsible of himself every time you call him and tell him you need him.

"don't worry about me." he tries to reassure you and you hear him starting the car. "only ten minutes, okay, sweetheart? i'll be with you."

"okay." you say.

he keeps his promise really well, and only after ten and a half minutes you see him walking with huge steps towards you. not that you were counting down the seconds. the doctor is a lovely lady, she tries to keep your mind occupied as she cleans up your wound.

"it's a deep cut, but it's clean." she says. "i'll make sure you don't feel anything."

"thank you." you smile weakly. "oh, here he is."

aemond is by your side in a second, his eye quickly inspecting the situation. "are you okay? are you hurting?"

you shake your head. the doctor smiles. "i don't really feel anything right now." you say. "it was just a bit bad when i first came in."

"and the stitches?" he asks, looking at the doctor.

"she will need only a few of them." she answers. "don't worry, we'll make it quick and painless."

she starts doing her job, asks you politely to look elsewhere. aemond holds your other hand as you watch him, it's a bit weird knowing you're being stitched but not feeling it. the worry lines on aemond's face look ever most prominent.

"i'm fine." you give him an easy smile.

"how did it happen?" he asks, softly.

"i was planning on preparing a dinner table." you say. "we've been relied on take out lately, so i wanted to cook you something nice."

"baby." he says, his voice carries too many emotions.

"it's okay." you tell him. "it can happen to anyone, really. i won't even get upset if i have a scar. just another story to tell."

"it may leave a faint scar in time." the doctor says. "but nothing too big."

"that's good enough."

aemond clearly thinks that is not good enough but he won't tell this when you're getting your hand stitched. he only squeezes your fingers. he'll make sure you don't touch knives until you heal, that's all.

"and we're done." the doctor says. "let's wrap it up, and then you can go."

"thank you." you and aemond say at the same time. the wrapping doesn't take long, you're ready to leave the hospital in five minutes.

after the doctor telling aemond instructions about the bandages and the stitches, you walk to the exit. you're glad it's over for now, and your hand still doesn't hurt really. aemond waits by your side until you settle down on the passenger seat.

you expect him to close the door and sit down on his own seat but he doesn't. instead, he turns you to his side by holding your thighs gently and cups your cheeks. he gives you the warmest kiss on your forehead.

"i was terrified." he confesses, almost whispers.

"i'm sorry." you say. "it was an accident."

"i know, my love." he says, putting another kiss on the side of your head. "you don't have to say sorry, it's not like you did it on purpose."

"and now we need to order something again." you say, giving him a mocking pout. "i wanted to eat something homemade tonight."

he smiles at your dramatics. you're right of course, you've both been too busy with work lately and relied on ordering pizza or sushi, or something else. he thinks cooking together can be nice now that he left work early and you want something cooked in your own kitchen.

"i'll cook anything you want for us." he says. it's a good promise.

"you sound pretty confident." you laugh.

"you need to help me with the recipes, of course." he says, coolly. "anything with knife, i'll do it. you can only do harmless things if you want to participate."

you pull him to yourself to give him a kiss. he immediately surrenders, any teasing words he has in mind is gone with your lips on his.

you think he'll look really good wearing an apron.

[girlkisser13]

dark red

"i think of her so much it drives me crazy" "i just don't want her to leave me"

pairings: jason grace x fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. jason is an overthinker. he’s just like fr.

summary: jason is nervous for your first date.

jason stood in front of the mirror in his cabin, fixing his hair for what had to be the millionth time. his fingers trembled slightly as he tried to smooth out a stray blond strand that refused to stay down. his heart raced as if he were preparing for battle, but this was far more daunting than any fight he had ever been in. tonight, he had a date with you— his first real date. he wanted everything to be perfect.

he was overthinking every detail: would his outfit look too formal or not formal enough? should he wear his favorite blue shirt because it matched his eyes, or would that seem like he was trying too hard? what if he tripped on his way to your cabin? what if he said something stupid? what if you realized halfway through the date that you didn’t actually like him as much as he liked you? his mind spiraled, conjuring up every possible worst-case scenario, and each one felt more likely than the last.

"what if she thinks the flowers are lame?" he muttered to himself, glancing over at the bouquet he’d carefully arranged earlier. the bouquet wasn’t just any bunch of flowers; it was a vibrant mix of colors and types. he had asked the demeter cabin for help, explaining that he didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so he wanted a little bit of everything. he hoped that his effort would come across as thoughtful rather than desperate.

jason took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried to calm his nerves. "come on, grace. you’ve fought monsters, flown through storms, and faced titans. you can handle one date."

but this wasn’t just any date. it was your first date with him, and that made it infinitely more important. the thought of you— the way you smiled, the sound of your laugh, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about the things you loved— only made his heart beat faster. he cared about you more than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

finally, with one last check in the mirror and a deep breath, he picked up the bouquet and made his way to your cabin. each step felt like it took hours, and by the time he stood in front of your door, his hands were sweating, and his mind was racing again.

he raised his hand to knock but hesitated. what if you weren’t ready? what if you changed your mind? what if—

before he could finish the thought, the door swung open, and there you were. jason’s mouth went dry, and every word he’d rehearsed in his head disappeared. you looked stunning, even more beautiful than he’d imagined. for a moment, all he could do was stand there, utterly speechless.

you laughed, breaking the silence that had stretched between you. "it’s nice to see you too, jason."

he snapped back to reality, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. "oh, uh, yeah, sorry," he stammered, holding out the bouquet. "these are for you."

you took the flowers, your eyes widening in delight as you took in the array of colors and scents. "they’re beautiful, jason. thank you."

he managed a shy smile. "i had a little help from the demeter cabin. i didn’t know what your favorite flower was, so i just asked them to give me every single flower they had."

you smiled warmly at him, a softness in your eyes that made his heart skip a beat. "that’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me."

jason felt a rush of relief and joy at your words. "it wasn’t a big deal," he said quickly. "you deserve so much more."

your cheeks flushed, and you smiled at him, making his heart race even faster. "are you ready to go?" you asked.

"yeah, definitely," he replied, offering you his arm. he led you away from the cabins, toward a secluded spot he’d chosen earlier in the day. as you walked side by side, jason glanced at you, his nerves still buzzing. "you look beautiful tonight," he blurted out, then immediately panicked. "not that you don’t look beautiful every day," he added hastily.

you laughed, a light, musical sound that made him smile despite his anxiety. "thank you, jason," you said warmly. his tension eased slightly, just watching you laugh, the sound calming his racing heart.

"i’ve been thinking about this date all week," he admitted, his voice soft.

"me too," you said, looking up at him. the sincerity in your eyes made his breath catch.

jason took a shaky breath. "i think about you so much it drives me crazy," he confessed.

"i bet you say that to all the girls," you said with a smirk, attempting to ease his nerves.

jason stopped walking, turning to face you. his eyes were earnest, a spark of intensity behind the blue. "only you," he said quietly, with such conviction that it made your breath catch. his honesty made you look away, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

ater a moment, you both resumed walking, and soon you arrived at the picnic spot jason had set up. a blanket was spread out on the grass, with a basket full of your favorite foods and drinks. you sat down together, and jason watched as you looked around, taking in the peaceful surroundings and the effort he had put into making everything perfect.

"this is really nice, jason," you said, looking at him with appreciation.

jason felt a wave of relief wash over him. "i’m glad you like it," he said. but despite your reassurances, the nervous energy still lingered. after a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice quieter. "i was so nervous you wouldn’t like me."

you turned to him, surprise in your eyes. "what? jason, that's ricdulous. i wouldn’t have come on this date if i didn’t like you."

he nodded, looking down at his hands. "i know, but…" he hesitated, then finally looked up at you, his blue eyes clouded with worry. "everyone i’ve ever cared about has left me. my mom left me. thalia left me. i just…" his voice broke slightly. "i don’t want you to leave me too."

your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you reached over, taking his hand in yours. "i’m not going anywhere, jason," you said softly. you moved closer, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting hug. he held you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder, and for a moment, all his fears seemed to fade away.

"thank you," he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "you don’t need to apologize for how you feel. i’m never going to leave you. i swear it on the river styx," you promised, your voice steady and sincere.

jason smiled, a genuine, peaceful smile that made your heart swell. "you have no idea how much that means to me," he said softly.

you smiled back, resting your forehead against his. "i think i have an idea," you murmured.

for the first time that night, jason felt completely at ease. he felt safe, knowing you were there, that you cared. with you by his side, jason believed he could finally be truly happy.

[yourstrulyrika]

Leon’s tits appreciation fic ♡

no warnings as usual, just fem!reader. it’s really just Leon’s chest appreciation because damn.

also. a small rant at the bottom of the fic? just a disclaimer btw. it’s nothing triggering me thinks, it’s about Leon so that’s why i’m putting it here i still encourage you to read it.

also this one might be a bit messy i just started taking my new meds and my body is going crazy. i’m really sleepy & dizzy all the time so yeah. sorry if it’s a bit out of my usual style or something ♡

you love Leon’s chest. that much is obvious — because he loves yours too obviously. you two love each other, body, soul, heart and mind. this includes your and his chests. Leon loves sleeping on your chest, and you love sleeping on Leon’s chest, too. it’s common for you two.

but, you definitely love playing with Leon’s chest the most. it’s just so plush, feels so good to touch. Leon’s chest is his soft spot, to say the least. when you touched his chest for the first time, he arched his back so prettily, leaning his head back. his nipples harden under your touch, his body getting warmer and eager for more as his cock grows harder.

“Dear god,”

he sighs out when you touch his chest, and it only makes you grin in return. you rarely get him to such state. sure, he lets out a grunt or two, but this? and he actually blushes. just a tiiny bit, but it’s still a blush! so you decide to take it further, planting little kisses all over his chest, feeling his heart subtly flutter under your lips. Leon is only this vulnerable around you, no one ever sees this side of him — he feels safe around you. safe enough to let himself be the submissive one for once.

Leon is unable to take it anymore. he tugs at your pants, sliding them down along with your panties to expose your pretty pussy to his eager gaze. your cunt is glistening wet, making Leon drool at the sight. he places a subtle slap on your pussy, before repeating it, making you twitch your hips. his cock is hitting against your thigh, wanting to be buried in your warm insides.

“Getting this worked up over playing with my cheee—ngghmh!!” he lets out the hottest whimper one can think of. as he speaks, you decide to shush him, rather effectively. you wrap your lips around his nipple, gently tucking on it while flicking the other one. Leon is actually losing his mind, he’s leaking precum already.

“Fuck, baby, please just let me slide inside you,” he grunts out, guiding his cock to tap against your clit, begging for entry. he’s giving you the puppy eyes, the ones you can’t say no to. besides, with the way the tip of his cock is leaking so much just gets you so eager. once given the permission he almost jumps on you, but you keep him down by biting on his nipple, getting another, louder moan.

“Tease,” he pants out, breathing hitching and getting heavy. he closes his eyes, lips parting slightly, chest heaving up and down. you decide to do something— you push two fingers into his mouth, and he immediately laps at them, sucking them like it’s your pussy that he’s so starved off. he finally guides his cock into your insides, his length already twitching and throbbing as it sloppily moves in and out. he’s mumbling something incoherent to himself, babbling about it feeling so good. this, mixed with you constantly sucking his nipples, kneading his chest while also pushing your fingers into his mouth? it’s heaven. he’s in heaven.

it doesn’t take long for him to cum. in fact, just a few more minutes of you playing with his pretty nipples mixed with your cunt gripping him so well just drives him nuts, cumming inside you after a while. he obviously makes sure to make you cum too— before pushing you beneath him, now cupping your breasts

“My turn, huh? Your chest needs some loving, too.” he says this so confidently, already kneading at your chest.

rant time! sorry guys, today’s one is shorter bc i dont feel so well :( but anyway, here’s my little rant about tiktok and honestly most of the fandom.

i hate the fact that people oversexualize Leon so much. this, and also not understand his character — caring only about his looks. people hate vendetta leon but i literally love this man. he’s fucking beautiful. all the resident evil characters are so misunderstood, oversexualized and ignored. i just hate it, and yeah i know i know — it’s just fiction, sure, but i just don’t like it. i wish more people took Leon seriously because this man is literally so much of a sweetheart, meanwhile people just sexualize him 24/7 :( he’s so much more than his looks. he’s literally so sweet it hurts.

rant over, just wanted to get it off of my chest. i just love him so much and people reduce him to various sex related things. smut and all that is good obviously, i just dislike when people constantly make Leon a completely different character than he actually is. i love both smut and sfw things, but man. tiktok is so full of people misunderstanding Leon, it’s annoying. they reduce him to completely different man — and let’s not even talk about the 18+ audios that they’re posting…. i just.. idk.

anyway. love you all! thank you for reading <3

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

VAMPIRE HUSBAND!/ FEM PRES READER!

You started your relationship with Nikoli recently. He dotes on you and waits on your hand and foot. Sending servants with lavish meals to your sleeping quarters.

He doesn't want to come on too strong, so he only comes to your room if you request it. You've Bagan requesting ut every night, doing everything you can to be more desirable. You love to drive him crazy♡

You pick out expensive perfumes that he pays for, picking only the ones you know he can smell from across the castle. Every time he hugs you or wraps his arms around you from behind, you expose your name neck to him as much as possible... oh, how you wish he'd sink his fangs into you.

He's a doctor and feeds off of blood donations, so he rarely ever comes home hungry. But today, he came home exhausted. He had been too busy working to be able to feed, and he was all worn out.

so you did what any good wife would and lathered yourself in your fines, best-smelling perfumes and requested he come to your room.

he enters, clearly tired and dreary as he approaches your bed.

"My dear, I am afraid I will not be of much use for your pleasure tonight.", He coos softly. His voice was deep and groggy and laid down next to you, his eyes heavily lidded.

You straddle him and lay your head next to his, praying he'll lose control once he smells you. You could tell when he did, his dead heart, racing faster. Nikoli gently wrapped his arms around your waist.

You whisper to him, "You need to feed, my love.."

He goes quiet, contemplating your offer.

"I do not wish to hurt you, my pet."

"But I'm asking you to- Please, I want to be useful to you."

"You are always useful to me. If you'd like me to, I will. but are you sure?"

"Very.", You reassure him. He sits up and spreads his legs slightly, calling you into his arms and moving your hair to one side of your shoulders. He held your arms strongly behind your back to keep you from moving and breathed against your neck.

you couldn't help but writhe slightly in his grasp, the feeling of his breath on your neck would surely drive you mad, you were dripping wet.

Out of nowhere, he sank his teeeth deeply into your flesh,, a hot feeling on your nerves as his tongue helped keep the gash contained. You moaned out, a feeling of pure ecstasy as he held you in place.

"F-fuck Nikoli!", One of his hands slipped over your mouth.

"Try to keep quiet, pet.", Hee only removed his fangs to speak before licking up the trickless blood that came out of the small holes he had left before delving back into your flavor, It was the best thing he'd ever tasted, and so warm coming from you.

He drained you for whole minutes, finally having to ri himself away from you, holding his hand now over the wound. He gasped for a moment, reeling from the high your blood gave him. He called for a servant who brought bandages and he wrapped up your neck.

tou felt slightly dizzy, but so happy you could be of use to him. He carefully laid you down on the bed and wiped the blood clean from his lips, staining them a cherry red as he approached you.

"You're the best thing I've ever tasted, dear. Now, allow me to thank you."

He slipped between your legs, and you looked down to see the throbbing outline of his cock in his pants, stretching them tightly. He slipped out of those pants and gently slipped your panties off from under your nightgown.

"you're so slick for me~ did you enjoy me feeding from you that much?", You hid your face as he tested you, running his fingers up through your folds gently.

you couldn't stand his teasing, he was so hot and his voice was slipping like silk into your mind as you were still dizzy from the blood loss. The more he teased you, the wetter you got.

he lifted your legs to your chest and pressed himself against your entrance, his head already slippery with precum. Nikoli pushed himself into you roughly, causing a weak cry to leap from your throat. he began to thrust in and out of you, and after feeding from you, he was now back to his full strength.

Once he was fully between your legs, he grabbed onto your hip with one hand, the other slipping up under your shoulder to use as leverage, pulling you into him as he moved. He moaned into your ear, the sounds of him getting off were enough to cause your walls to clench around him.

you could already feel yourself coming close to finishing but tried to wait for him. He began to thrust harder, using his full strength to plow into you, you could feel his cock pulsing against your walls, begging for release.

You repeatedly clenched around your husband, trying to offer him all the pleasure you could grant while simultaneously pushing yourself over the edge, squirting around him. As you came you wrapped your arms around him and gripped his back roughly, sinking your nails into his skin.

As he felt you clenching, he plunged himself into you for a final time, filling you with his hot cum, he groaned and laid against you, breathing heavily into your ear.

"Thank you, my dear."He breathed as he held onto you.