#this is probably a repost but i don't care

[heavyhitterheaux]

Roommates Until Further Notice (Slight NSFW)

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: Getting your way has always been second nature when it came to your husband, but when he once again tells you no regarding a well-known request of yours, you let him know how he's not being fair

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

When Joe had gotten back from Miami to celebrate the Bengals finalizing deals with both your twin and Tee, you had been working on designing the nursery when he made his presence known by wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head.

“Hey pretty girl.” Joe quietly said as you turned around to properly hug him.

“Hi handsome.”

“What are you up to?”

“Just looking up different designs for the nursery. I think I'm leaning toward it being elephant themed.” You replied as you smiled at him and he instantly raised an eyebrow.

“We still aren't buying one. I don't care how many times you try to sneak it in when we're talking. The answer is still going to be no.”

“Why are you such an ass sometimes? Riddle me that.” You crossed your arms as you set your phone down and all Joe did was shrug.

“Oh, so you can buy batmobiles but I can't get an elephant? Fucking hypocrite if I ever saw one.”

“Don't you dare start and that's different!”

“It is NOT!”

“One is literally an animal that is as big as our house.”

“You can't even drive it out on the street.” You shot back and Joe instantly closed his mouth before opening it again.

“YET!”

“I'm calling Robin and I'm telling her that I'm sending her youngest child back to her because he doesn't know how to act and getting on my nerves.”

“Because I won't buy you an elephant? Please be serious, princess.” Joe sighed as he followed you to the living room.

“I should put you on a restriction. No sex until you buy me what I want.” Sitting on the couch, you opened your phone back up to Etsy where you were looking up different designs while Joe snorted.

“You'll probably break before I do.”

This made you look at him in disbelief and you folded your hands in your lap and nodded your head but not before sucking your teeth.

“Then let me make it easier for myself. I don't think I can sleepover tonight.” You replied and Joe had gotten a dumbfounded look on his face.

“This better not be one of those stupid TikTok trends. You literally live here. You are my wife and we share a last name.”

“Since when!? That's news to me.”

“Princess, please don't start and stress me out.”

“You're the one causing the stress. And besides, my mom said so.”

“Your mom?” Joe asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“Yes, that's what I said? Can you not hear me?”

“Your mom that lives in New Orleans?” Joe asked and you nodded your head once more.

“Yes. She told me earlier before you got here.”

“And we are currently in Cincinnati?”

“What is this? Geography class?” You asked Joe as he rolled his eyes at you.

“All this over an elephant?” Was all you had to hear for you to turn up your nose at him and sigh.

“I bet the elephant is cheaper than that damn batmobile. So let me grab my keys.”

“Wait, what? Baby it is almost nine at night, where are you going?”

“Haven't you been listening? I can't stay tonight, especially since you said no to buying my elephant.” You replied as you slipped your slides on that were by the door which happened to be the most comfortable shoes for you these days.

“You are really milking this aren't you?”

“Not my fault that you're a bad roommate who doesn't listen to me.”

“ROOMMATE?! WE'RE MARRIED!”

“Hmm, we're roommates until further notice.” You told him as you tried to open the door, but it was stopped by Joe's hand.

“Are you done having your temper tantrum?” He asked from behind you while leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Move, so I can leave. I'll go and bother my little brother.”

“You sure you want to leave? And you know for a fact that he'll be calling me to come and get you as soon as you walk over there.”

“Yes, now unhand me, roommate.”

Next thing you knew, Joe's hand slipped inside your shorts and started moving his fingers in a small circular motion along your clit while slowly planting kisses down your neck.

“I didn't realize that roommates did things like this. Still want to leave?” He asked at the same time he inserted one of his fingers.

“You get on my nerves.”

“Is that how you talk to your roommate who is about to make you cum in his mouth?” Joe whispered in your ear before both of his hands made a swift movement and your shorts were now pooled at your feet.

No answer was heard from you as Joe got on his knees and started eating you out from behind making you gasp.

Joe's grip on your thighs became tighter to hold you in place as you leaned against the front door for stability since at any moment you felt like you could fall over.

“Good roommates keep their legs spread, or do I need to call you my good girl for that to happen?” As soon as the words ‘good girl’ left his mouth, it was a wrap with a moan erupting from you, which made Joe laugh as he used both his mouth and fingers to pleasure you.

As soon as you felt your release was near, Joe pulled himself away from you and pulled your shorts back up your legs before you heard his voice and you were confused about what was now happening.

“See you tomorrow I guess.”

“Excuse me!?”

“Well according to you, we're roommates until further notice and I realized that I only make my wife cum. So do what you will with that information.” He told you as he shrugged and gave you a small smirk which earned him a sigh from you.

“Okay. Since you want to go there, sleep on the couch, Burrow. Until further notice.” You told him as you turned around to look at him and crossed your arms in disbelief.

His eyes went wide and he was quickly starting to backtrack.

“Wait, babe. Hold on a minute.”

“Extra pillows and blankets are in the hall closet which you already knew so goodnight.” You replied as you started to make your way up the steps.

“All this for you to stay and kick me out of our bedroom? I need you next to me.”

“Oh, really? I thought the batmobile was going to keep you warm?”

“You're seriously not going to let this go are you?”

“Talk to me once you buy my elephant.”

[spidrmrk]

youngest daughter : a supernatural sibling fic masterlist

dean winchester x winchester!oc, sam winchester x winchester!oc

summary : being on the road constantly was something that stevie got used to fairly quickly as a winchester. seven-year-old stevie winchester, never quite grasped the idea of why her family hunted. finding out that the supernatural were, in fact, real, scared her nonetheless. so when john winchester hadn't returned back from a “hunting trip,” stevie had no choice but to tag along to track him down after being kept in bobby's care.

warnings : mentions of death, blood, angst, violence, swearing, abuse, along with other possible triggers.

taglist : is open! send an ask or reply to this post :)

status : ongoing

a/n: this will be an oc x oc fic! however the relationship won't be until the later seasons. and it will most likely be wlw, just to keep in mind :)

i. act one : wasted summers

— season one

chapter one ; family reunion (wip.)

_

from santana, with love :)

my first ever fanfic, I hope this goes well! this started out as an unfinished draft as my many other fic ideas. nevertheless, this will probably be mediocre and have typos/errors. please don't hesitate to point them out so i can fix them!

this will also be posted to ao3 and likely wattpad as well! my ao3 user is the same as this one. for wattpad, my @ will be disclosed until I decide whether I will post this fic on there, as I rarely use my acc on there.

likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

© spidrmrk 2025. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platforms, thank you!!

[inurclosets]

[cowardlycowboys]

eat my shorts

[agonizingdespair]

I wonder if Markiplier has seen this tweet yet. I wanna know what he would think of it.

[avianii]

oh? what's this?? fanart for my other fandoms???? the infidelity!!!

anyways @calkale I'm also just now realizing this is 75% stuff you indoctrinated me into liking so congrats, it worked :)

[fookinhellcurlyyy]

.

[creatively-cosmic]

Heyyy, it’s me again :)

Wanted to say that the Fire lore is indeed Fire. And dark. Jesus Christ Almighty is it dark and I love everything about it. (I wanna give Fire a hug now but I don’t know if he likes hugs from strangers-)

ANYWAY! I got curious again and I have more questions: about Blue this time. I hope this isn’t too much.

Okay, first question: Where did Blue get the scar on his neck?

Second: Does Blue hate Fire? Or is he just so angry at his unfair existence that he takes it out on the thing closest to/most important to Arceus that he can get his hands on? (I might be reading things wrong, but that’s the vibes I get from it.)

And Third: Would Blue really be happy to see (His?) Red if he came back, even though he’s completely batshit insane?

That’s all though! I hope this wasn’t annoying. Have a good day/afternoon/night!

Trust me when I say that not only are you no trouble at all, but getting questions about Missing Numbers has been the highlights of our days! We love getting to talk about this, and it's wonderful that people have shown care and interest. Your questions make us really happy and we're always more than happy to answer.

For starters, Fire is a giant teddy bear of a man. He doesn't mind hugs. In fact, I think he needs one.

As for Blue!

The scar on Blue's neck is one of the clearest signs of his... Anomaly? Corruption?

It's a design troupe we like to use, of some kind of subtle physical sign of a more metaphysical issue. For this scar on Blue, it's the source of his Glitched state. It's an entire piece of the story, how he ended up partially corrupted and how it works, but to keep it... Simple? Without getting into the mechanics of how it worked or the in-depth story of what happened, lest we're here all day?

The scar is from his first death. The event it's from is, essentially, the first time he and Fire went through their little murder-suicide death loop, spurred on by Leaf's demise. It's a point of no return: opening up the flesh, giving up his life, and letting the corruption seep in.

Does Blue hate Fire? It feels like a cop-out answer to say it's complicated, but it REALLY is. Not even he really knows how he feels.

He hates him, yet he loves him so. He can't comprehend him, but he's the only one who understands. He's so much greater than him, so high above. He's so much less than him, like dirt beneath his feet. He is his greatest equal, the only one he could look in the eye.

It isn't his fault. It's ALL his fault. He wants him here. He wants him gone. He can't imagine losing him. He wants him dead. He NEEDS him dead. He is NOTHING to him. He's his friend rival enemy savior punishment god damnation lover

everything.

Is he haunting Blue? Is Blue haunting him? Isn't it a cruel existence to be taunted by? The man who stole the name, the place, the identity of the only one he cared for. Is it betrayal to love him too? Who else could he come to love, but him? But he's seen it- how empty he is. Like everything he does is done because it's predestined. Surely, you'd think, it's meaningless as "Red" tries to extend warmth. Tries to show kindness. Tries to be a friend. Acts like Blue means something to him.

The warmth in those brown eyes shouldn't mean anything. Not when he's seen them so cold, so empty, in everything else he's done. Not when those eyes should have been the intense red Blue KNOWS he remembers from his childhood. It's all wrong.

It's not fair. That's the main thing, and you understood that much in your question. Save one thing- Blue doesn't know about Arceus. He has no idea who is responsible. No clue why this has happened, or what's happening. He's in the dark.

All that he knows is one night as a child, at his lowest moment, his best friend left him with a tangible promise.

And the next day he was gone. He doesn't know what happened.

And the world moved on.

And then there was the brown eyed kid. Him in every sense but so, absolutely and completely, wrong. And there's no explanation. No reason. Nothing. So who else could he possibly blame? Who else could that anger possibly be directed towards?

He tried to find anyone, anything, any way to justify it. In his rational mind, this must be something beyond their control. And he's so sweet. So gentle. So quiet. So kind. But with no way to see or even comprehend the higher powers at play, every sign can only point to him.

That imposter. That replacement. That bastard.

... That boy, the only one who chose to be his friend in spite of everything.

Does he hate him? Does he not? What else can I say? It's just... Complicated.

As for the Third question.

It's funny you ask. I have a bigger piece for this planned.

[arintheman]

Holiday Bleakspot and Twistertail

Twistertail is mine while Bleakspot is spiltapplejuice's on Toyhouse.

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[gojosoups]

Late Night Treat ── teaser

gojo satoru x reader | 18+, modern au

Summary: Stuck at work after your deadbeat boyfriend forgets to pick you up from your overtime shift, you find yourself walking down the streets at midnight in your uncomfortable work clothes and 5-inch heels. Tired and frustrated, and your phone long dead, you stumble upon a remote gas station in search of help, where you meet a mysterious figure clad in all-black leather, refueling his motorcycle at an ungodly hour.

Pairing: biker! gojo satoru x reader

Warning/tags: 18+, smut, slight angst, modern au, female reader, strangers to one night stand or moree, cheating, reader has a dead beat bf, jealousy, use of vulgar language, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband!, [more tags tba]

a/n: this was sm fun to write, also idk shit about bikes.. I just picked wtv bike google told me LMFAO. art credits to @/uruyuuu.

Who said walking home alone in a pair of 5-inch heels was an easy feat? No one, that's who. Because what sane person would walk down the scummy streets of downtown at an ungodly hour when all buses and subway stations are closed and not a single taxi is in sight?

Fuck work and fuck your promotion. 

All you want right now is to be under your warm blanket, with a glass of wine and some shitty Netflix series playing in the background.

Oh and fuck your deadbeat of a boyfriend too—probably too busy gooning off to some low-quality hentai to pick up your call, leaving you stranded at work while you're freezing your ass off.

Shutting your phone off after the 5th missed call, you shove it into your purse, probably getting lost in the mess of paperwork and pens, cursing his name under your breath.

You continue your trek, walking along the unsteady gravel road, each step bringing you closer to a sprained ankle, but honestly, you didn’t have enough energy to care. 

And if your situation couldn't get any worse—you were lost. 

The buzzing of fluorescent lights pulls you out of your inner turmoil. Snapping your head and somehow managing not to give yourself whiplash, you find a rundown gas station barely five feet away. 

Everything about this screamed “BAD IDEA!!”

But you were running out of fucks to give.

Ankles aching, you near the gas station. The neon sign of the gas station buzzing and flickering, with a few missing letters, renaming it as “G— Stat—n.”

You swear you almost saw a comically large tumbleweed rolling down the road. 

Somehow, you manage to haul your ass to the deserted gas station, your brows furrowing as you see a stranger pumping gas into his Yamaha YZF-R1—a sleek black bike accented with deep blue—under the flickering neon sign.

Well, at least you know how you're getting home now.

taglist: @baepsays @myahfig4 @joemama-2 @levislug @etsuniiru @vm4879bb-blog @lil-cinn @nanasukii28 @1satoruu @dahliabite @strawberiicreme @madamechrissy @memymay @moncher-ire @penguingirlanzu @antisocialinlw @angelina7890 @oh-my-god-donald @descargueestoporgojosatoru @synthe4u @jkslaugh97 @blubearxy @collectionofdolls @ourfinalisation @byakuya61085 @re-tired-succubus @manyno ── please have your age visible on your blog to join the taglist

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[always-just-red]

A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about

Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅

Putting On A Brave Face

L&DS Boys x Reader

Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...

Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!

Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)

| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Xavier ⭐

This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.

You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.

You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.

Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.

You hope Xavier’s okay. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.

Still nothing.

Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.

There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.

You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.

You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.

Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.

Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.

“Xavier!” you call back.

You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.

“I’m okay.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”

Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.

“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”

He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”

“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.

“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”

“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m okay.”

“But you’re not.”

“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.

Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.

“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”

He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  

“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”

You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”

The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.

He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.

“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were okay!”

“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.

He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.

“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”

You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”

“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.

You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”

Zayne ❄

“I’m a doctor.”

You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Okay…?”

“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”

None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”

“Is it?”

Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.

“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”

His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”

The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.

“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”

There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.

“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”

“Yes,” he says plainly.

“You’re delusional.”

“Okay.”  

Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…

Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”

“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”

Ah. That’s okay. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?

“Would you like me to—?” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:

“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”

Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.

“You’re welcome."

Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.

Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.

“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”

You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor, shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.

“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”

Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.

“No?”

“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”

“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.

“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”

You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”

He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.

“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”

“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”

Rafayel 🔥

“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”

“Raf, who are you—?”

He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”

You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.

He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.

All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…

But they don’t.

It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—

That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”

He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”

“Knew what? Who was that?”

“Zayne.”

“You called Zayne?”

“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”

The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”

He shrugs. “That’s different.”

“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.

Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.

“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”

“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”

You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, okay? I just knew—”

“What?”

“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”

Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”

Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”

“Raf—”

“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”

You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”

Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.

“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”

“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”

You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.

“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.

His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”

“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.

Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”

“Help me out with this, cutie?”

“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.

A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”

“For the love of—” Thomas starts.

“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”

Heads turn. Cameras flash.

Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.

Sylus 🩸

“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.

“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”

Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?

“Last chance,” he growls.

“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”

He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”

“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”

“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?

“What’s wrong, Sy?”

He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.

“Sylus?”

“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”

The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—?”

“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”

He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.

That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  

“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—?”

“Because Luke and Kieran told me, okay?”

Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”

You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?

“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.

“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”

Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.

“Come here,” he orders gently.

You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.

“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”

“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”

“What do you want to do today, Sy?”

His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”

There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.

“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”

…

“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”

He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”

“Are the boys okay?”

The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”

Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.

“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.

“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.

[sillyabtmusic]

babys first gif repost.......

[lovelyjuju]

taglist repost yay!

@bananielle @enha-hype @20cubee @tako-takiiii @makissecretgirlfriend @lakoya @brkylnbabyjay @tmrwsuns @lovelynicho @222brainrot @lemon-sage17 @jayparked @hyukabean

i think we’ve established that maki does NOT sleep lul. 🤓

but like wouldn’t it be soooo cute to stay up late and night texting/calling him? ��🤭😌

and juju wakes up pretty early from what we’ve seen so like getting a gm text from him and chatting with him before the other members are up? 🫠☺️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

agreed!

maki would definitely stay up all night just to have some extra time with you – especially when the two of you have busy schedules throughout the day! you'd always make sure to make up for the lost time by staying up late together :(

be it texting, calling, facetiming, watching a movie together via screensharing, or sending each other your tiktok fyp's, the two of you would always find a way to spend as much time as possible together even if you're apart <3

unlike maki, juju for sure does not stay up all night. while bro goes to sleep shortly after (or even before) midnight, he also naturally wakes up early – especially if that means he gets to talk to you before starting his day. he'd for sure text you first thing in the morning :(

he'd ask how you slept, would tell you about his schedule or plans for the day and would listen to everything you have to say about yours. would always remind you to stay warm and to not catch a cold (not a day has gone by where he didn't say that in his dms).

i think he's usually the type to send you several messages but if you don't reply to his first text, he'd send everything else in one looong message just to make sure you won't wake up from several notfis :(

[gravegoer]

masterlist + intro ⚘

hi !! ♡ welcome to my blog ! i love music ( esp alternative metal and death metal ) i have manymany interests and i love art! drawing, painting and writing is my forte tho + i love photography , I like / play sports like boxing and taekwondo , working out is also fun !!

✎ " i am bloody , raw , nerves hanging out all over the place "

Arcane ─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

Sevika: ( i dont write her 4 men ) + ranked in order of most popular — to least >>> rules at the end <<<

" Sevikas Boss " PART 1 // PART 2

" I hear your call " pirate sevika and siren reader PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3

" Take a hint " PART 1 // PART 2

" Sail the Seven Seas " pirate sevika ! PART 1 //

" Royal Blood " PART 1 // PART 2

" Taking care of her " being her cute housewife!

" Pretty Piltie " counciler sevika meets you

" Princess " sevika doesnt like creeps

" Smokey kisses "

"Sevika, Ambessa, Grayson" HCS for them

" Cuddling the Butches "

" Council member Sevika "

" Wont lose you. "

" Late night care " bathing her

" A little love "

" Safeword " using your safeword

" My Best Friend " she is your gay awakening

" Secrets "

" Gym Day "

" First Time " virgin reader

WIPS ── ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

" Dump him "

MISCELLANEOUS ── ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

" Stolen Glances " ekko x reader

i write for any characters from arcane, other than minors.

im okay with light nsfw, but if you send in an nsfw, ask, and i dont answer it, its probably bc i didnt want to— but feel free

if i dont answer your ask within a week— RESEND!! my ask box likes to eat my asks...help..

i don't repost on this account unless i REALLY want u guys to see it (so fanart, etc). i keep my page to just fics and original posts mostly

if you want to be mutuals, PLEASEEE ask, i wont say no i promise

if you make fanart of my fics pls tag me

[lovegasmic]

 THE BEAST

⋆ wriothesley + fem!reader

( girl u in jail what did you doooo? /j it's not mentioned you probably stole a fonta idk )

⋆ mdni. heat cycles, knotting, praising, he fucks u hard rip that pussy. pet names: good girl, baby. reposting the fic I'm most proud of.

"you shouldn't be here"

"if you hate me that bad then…"

there's a chuckle resonating through the walls, metal rings around fingerless gloves clicking against the metal railing as the Duke makes his way down the stairs and next to you.

still at your side the man was a couple inches taller than yourself, bringing a slight feeling of nervousness around your body, or perhaps it was a natural response to the 'tiny' crush you had on him.

"your imprisonment is over, you're free to leave this place" Wriothesley mentions, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing with a hint of scolding in his words to which you only shrug in return.

"i like to help Sigewinne in the infirmary" that wasn't a complete lie, but part of the reason for your continuous presence in such a place was due to the dark haired man currently standing next to you, whose presence was enough to get your knees weak and heart pumping wildly.

"mhm, I don't believe you" he mentions dully, fingers rubbing on the bridge of his nose yet his lips held a small smile on them, "I just wanted you to know I'll be out for a couple of days, a week at max"

"what?" you let out a high pitched sound, even though his erratic schedule wasn't news for anyone around, a week was far longer than any of his other absences.

"don't worry, Clorinde will drop by to check everything is in order" you stiff a huff, if anything, you weren't to admit the prison was the least of your worries.

"take care" was the only thing you managed to say. his hand felt heavy on your shoulder once he replied with a soft "you too"

a day passed and you already felt as if your 'not' lover left for war. the fortress remained the same as well as your usual activities at the infirmary, but the emptiness Wriothesley left alongside the usual meetings for tea and having lunch at the cafeteria started to burden.

but, on the other hand, a sense of pride bloomed in your chest since many of the guards went to find you and ask for advice regarding the fortress, quoting to their own sentences, you were the one his grace trusted the most.

"I am very sorry to bother you miss" one of the man said, "but since the Duke is out and miss Clorinde is still left to come back we decided it will be the best if you knew beforehand" strange rumors started to raise ever since Wriothesley left, some kind of 'beast' was heard from one of the pipes, and even though many guards already searched for clues, nothing was found.

"it's fine" you sighed, "please warn everyone to stay away from that place, at least until this issue gets fixed.

"it will be alright" Sigewinne smiles your way, trying to get your nerves on check while bandaging a man's scratched forearm, a match just took place due to the sudden influx of injured men, luckily no one was in mortal danger, but it was enough to keep you busy until your work hour was over.

but you should have expected that what the guard mentioned earlier was to keep you awake all night, to drag you out of bed and sneak past whoever was on patrol duty that night.

the mentioned zone was clear, no guards or prisoners looking for a challenge with an unknown danger, but especially, no sound besides the occasional water drop hitting a puddle on the floor.

another thing was the cool and smooth metal panels covering the walls, where your fingers slid trying to find any clue, knuckles hitting the material and ear pressed to find any possible hollow area.

and for what it felt like an eternity later, you heard a soft growl from behind the wall, right where your ear was pressed against.

you gasped by consequence, failing to stiff the sound so whatever was on the other side didn't hear you.

apparently, it did, since the growling stopped completely at the same time your back turned to flee and warn anyone nearby, as soon as your foot took a step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you into some kind of dim lighted room before the door closed right in front of you, it was rough and calloused, and you could've had recognized it in the spot if it weren't because of the fear surrounding your whole body and freezing you in place.

"calm down" a voice rasps in your ear, an incredible mix of emotions running through your body in just a couple of seconds, starting with confusion since you were certain that was Wriothesley 's voice, passing to worry as to why is he in such place and lastly, flustering at the feeling of something poking on your lower back, his arms and chest warm and bare against your body.

"Wriothesley…" you pant once his hand leaves your mouth, "what is going on?"

he exhales heavily, letting you free from his embrace way too quickly for your liking, but allowing your eyes to take in his scar covered chest, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead and dampening the dark fabric of his half buttoned pants, and oh… he was hard. painfully you might add with how his trousers seemed to be about to burst.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" he starts and you think it should be you apologizing for thinking lewdly of him, "but you have to go"

"what?"

"it's not safe for you to be here" the man grits his teeth, backing up until the back of his knees touch a bed you failed to notice before, sitting on it with no care while his hands are in fists, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

the threatening growl from man makes you flinch slightly, yet that doesn't stop you from taking a step closer, bared teeth with a single fang peeking from his bottom lip that buries in the lower until a single bead of blood pops up.

"tell me what's going on" you whisper in a slightly demanding tone, your relationship was close enough to mess and joke around, but watching him in this situation, and that he was so hesitant to speak broke your heart.

"i—" he swallows hard when you're close enough to smell your scent, a brief and almost imperceptible hint of arousal clouding his brain and stealing a hiss against his will.

unaware of the situation, thinking Wriothesley is in serious pain, you decide to rest a hand at the top of his shoulder, a friendly motion he often did with you but now, he just wanted to pull you by that hand and kiss you until you ran out of breath.

"I..." he starts again, gently holding your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, smiling when you shiver visibly, "I go through heats, once every a couple of months"

"oh"

he chuckles, warm and genuine, raising his head to observe your expression, leaving you with shaky knees, his bright blue eyes a tone darker, hair damp and messy, inviting you to thread your fingers on it and kiss him stupid.

"that's why you're not safe here" the Duke whispers, still with his lips against your growing pulse, "I've been dying to rip your clothes off ever since I saw you, now it feels like I'd definitely die if I don't touch you in the next five minutes"

you gasp, surprised and turned on before replying, "make it one" and in the blink of an eye you're kissing him, hard and desperate while your body melts against his, pliantly letting him drag you down and sit you in his strong thigh where you're quick to grinding against, sloppily like the kisses you share.

"fuck" he growls and you moan, allowing his tongue to slip past your mouth while his thumbs press tight on your jaw, opening for a better reach while you can only take it and claw onto his nape.

his knee bucks up in a steady rhythm, one of his hands sneaking below your skirt, all the way up from your bare thighs to your soaked panties, "you're wet, I can smell it"

a pained moan escapes your lips, face burning in embarrassment but the look on his face is rewarding enough, pupils blown out, lips red and puffy letting out breathy exhalations. you barely get enough time to observe him before your eyes shut unconsciously at the feeling of a pair of rough fingers coming in contact with your clit through the flimsy underwear fabric.

"can I… please…?"

"yeah" you gasp, earning a whine from the man right onto your neck where he's nibbling, quickly getting rid of your skirt and half ripping your panties in the process, his pants get undone next, enough to fit his cock between your dripping folds flicking your clit with the engorged cockhead before pressing into your tight cunt.

he's big, bigger than you had imagined during sleepless nights of you touching yourself, but you're incredibly wet and doing your absolute best in taking a fat cock.

"oh fuck…!" you mewl, pressing your chin to the side of his head while Wriothesley continues to bite on your shoulder, careful not to pierce the skin as his hands find place on your hips, busy pushing your body down to take him whole.

"take it" he exhales, "I know you can take it, baby" and you whimper at the praise, thighs shaking from the stretch. his breath is hot against your collarbone, hips rolling forward that causes his cock to rub against the firm spot inside your cunt that leaves you limp, tugging your shirt from above your head so his hands freely get to palm at your tits once he's fully bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust while he plays with your nipples.

"there we go" Wriothesley pants, hips snapping forward to fuck you deep, clutching onto the back of your head next to press his mouth against yours, bouncing your body up and down his cock in increasing speed.

"shit, shit!" Wriothesley groans, hips stuttering before stopping almost completely in what felt an attempt of self control, his tip coating your insides with immense amounts of precum, making you wonder just how much cum he actually held in those heavy balls that smacked against your ass in loud papping sounds.

"Wrio, you don't have to hold back" you whine through bitten lips, cupping his cheeks between your hands. and the moment where Wriothesley snaps will get forever burnt in your brain, starting from the deep rumbling groan, the twitch of his cock messily ruining your inside with hard precise thrusts, to the sudden movement of your whole body where he pins you down in bed, face down against the pillow with his hand pushing between your shoulder blades, ass up, face down while he successfully mounts you from behind.

his fat cock glides easily past your tight entrance, soaked in slick at the same time his thumb finds a place between your teeth, rubbing on your tongue the tangy taste of your slick.

"stay still" he grunts, dropping his forehead down between your shoulder blades while feeding your pussy the rest of his cock, "you smell so fucking good" Wriothesley is a mess of grunts and hisses, spreading out your ass cheeks to fit in properly inside your tight cunt, loving how the squelching sound comes louder in this position.

"too deep!" you scream, thighs shaking from the forcefully stretch of your walls around his cock.

"it's okay" he slurs, fingers pressing on your forehead to push you head up and kiss your temple, yet his hips continue to piston inside of you, dragging in your body with his on top of the mattress, his knees on each side of your thighs to perfectly fuck into you, driving his tip almost at your cervix with each thrust, "I got you, you're fine"

"Wrio" you sob, "feels so good"

"I know, baby, in know" he chokes out, eyes closed shut while pants escape freely between skin slapping, "you take it so good, my good girl, all mine"

"o-oh!" you whine, "Wrio please, you're so big, oh my god"

"don't say that" he grits, hips stuttering and pushing onto your waist so he gets to reach in much deeper than before, "I'm going to come soon"

"ngh" you moan, toes curling and pussy clenching.

"can I knot you?"

"yes" you reply way too quickly, digging your nails onto the sheets, pillow drenched from sweat and tears, "yes, please"

Wriothesley moans like a wounded animal, fucking you like one too with his hands on your head, pushing you down as if to submit you to him.

you can feel him twitching again, cunt fluttering in sync, clenching and begging to be filled with a scream of your own while you cum all over his cock, gasping loudly when his knot begins to push past your tight entrance.

"W-Wrio—" you sob.

"yes, I'm here, it's alright you can take it" he thumbs your clit, helping you ride out your high while his knot gets snuggled inside your cunt, digging his nails on the skin of your thighs while rutting into you, long and thick spurts of cum coating your walls.

"fuckin' perfect pussy, taking all of my cum" he groans, panting loudly and jerking his hips until every single drop of cum is stuffing your hole.

"are you alright?" he asks once you've calmed down, turning your body around to let you cuddle against his broad chest.

"yeah" you sniffle, overwhelmed.

"I forgot to ask how did you find me" the man grins, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"people heard you growling like a beast" you sniffle again.

"... what?"

and you should have told him earlier, since you were certain now people might think that said beast was just some horny dog.