#this is reminding me i must watch more shows that only i like

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

A Golden Chain

Part Three of A Gilded Cage. Thank you @batchilla for workshopping with me and sharing your ideas! ~2.3k words

Jason isn't there when you wake up. It's something you expected, but it still makes something in your heart feel unsettled. Bean bats at your nose, and it motivates you enough to get out of bed.

Your life just sort of falls into a routine from there. Krystal, Destini, and Robbi fill your days with entertainment, in and out of the penthouse. Bean finds out that his favorite place in the world is on your shoulder or in your lap.

And Jason, Jason, he fills your nights. The notepad goes unused, but you see him every time the moon rises.

He starts to eat dinners with you. He starts to talk to you, never about what he's doing or why you're here. Even if you try to bring it up, he's quick to distract you or to change the topic. It's almost infuriating.

But, sometimes, sometimes, when he smiles at you and his eyes flicker, he almost feels like the boy he was before he disappeared.

You start to fall asleep at night with him at your side, hunched over and watchful in the chair next to your bed. It should be unnerving, should make you want to run and fight, and try to escape. But it doesn't.

You try to bury the part of you that feels safe at his side. Try to remind yourself that he kidnapped you to get you here. That all the military gear he's wearing isn't for show, that he must have some sort of plan.

It's not until Gotham falls into panic that you discover what those plans are. It's worse, that it's not him that tells you.

Krystal, Destini, and Robbi practically break down your door, it's not unusual for them to be excited, but their shared fear is.

They tell you about Scarecrow's threats, tell you about the deaths that occurred at Pauli's Diner. Krystal takes your hand at the end of it all nearly begs for you to go with them.

"It won't be safe, sugar," she says and her voice only shakes a little. The look in her eyes tells you that she knows it's a risk to ask, that whoever payrolls them to keep you company is dangerous.

"You should get out of town. Come with us, if you have nowhere to go. We can look after you till this all blows over," Robbi murmurs, voice low to avoid the prying ears of your 'bodyguards' stationed outside.

"I'm safe here," You tell them, and your voice sounds hollow to your own ears.

You haven't been so confused and lost, and shattered since you found out Jason was alive. You can't explain it, you don't have any proof, but your instincts are screaming that The Arkham Knight– that Jason has something to do with this.

"Honey, whoever–" Destini starts, before cutting herself off with a sigh, "We both know that's not true."

For a moment you want to go with them. To leave Gotham and all its claws and teeth behind. But you know, you know so deeply that he wouldn't let you go.

You shake your head and pull your hand from Krystal's, "Be safe," You say instead, "Get as far away as you can."

They're halfway out the door when you stop them, you hate crushing the hopeful look that crosses their faces. But you silently place Bean in Destinis hands.

You think it breaks their hearts and yours. And then they're gone.

Your well-meaning intentions don't get very far. This is clear because Jason doesn't show up for dinner. It's crystal clear, because as Gotham empties of civilians, Jason walks through the door of your prison with Bean under his arm.

You don't get to react before he drops the kitten in your lap, and Bean is more than happy to cuddle into your thighs.

"He's yours," Jason tells you as he tugs off his helmet, "not something to give away."

"Are they okay," You ask quickly, worry clear on your face and in your voice.

His lips twitch at your question, "They left Gotham unharmed."

You think it's the truth. You hope that he wouldn't lie about that. You don't have it in you to press.

"I just wanted him to be safe," You murmur, petting Bean as he nuzzles your stomach.

"He is safe. You're safe," Jason tells you firmly, standing rigid over your place on the couch.

You look up to meet his gaze, and your accusation slips out thoughtlessly, "Even if Scarecrow goes through with his plan? Even if– even if you go through with this."

You hope he denies what you're asking, tell you that he's not doing something so obviously wrong. He doesn't.

He stiffens more, eyes sharpening, "You don't understand."

"Then explain it to me," You plead, "tell me how working with Scarecrow is what you need to do."

He frowns, and tilts his head down as if to really look at you. His voice comes out hard, flat and nothing like the Jason you've grown used to, "I don't have time to explain it to you. All you need to do is stay here. It's safe."

"But, Jason," You protest, standing quickly as he turns to march back out the door, already tugging his helmet back on.

If his voice betrays how he's feeling, it's hidden behind the helmet's modulator, "This will all be over by tomorrow."

It sends shivers down your spine, how ominous his words feel. You don't get to ask anymore questions before he's tugging the door closed behind him.

He's left you, kitten meowing from the couch and the apartment feeling more like a cage than ever. It makes you want to scream, to cry, to break down the door and chase after him and demand to know why.

Why are you really here? Why can't you leave? Why is he working with Scarecrow?

There's no answer from the locked door. Frustration wells in your throat, and there's nothing, not a thing you can do.

So you sit. Listen to sirens sounding throughout a nearly empty Gotham. Watch smoke rise from a city abandoned by its people to the thugs and rouges of Gotham.

You sit and ache and hurt until you have to move. Until you find yourself out on the balcony overlooking the vacant buildings of the Diamond District.

It helps some. Jason had removed the glass at your request, and the cool night air is almost soothing.

You close your eyes, and for a moment it's almost peaceful. It's peaceful until a thump knocks you out of your thoughts, and you open your eyes.

Robin is perched on the railing two feet away from you. Robin is two feet away from you and every cell in your body is screaming that this is bad.

He says your name like he knows who you are, and you imagine he actually does, even if you've never met.

"I need you to come with me, you're in danger here," he says, extending his hand to you.

A part of you wants to. If anyone could help you, if anyone could get you freedom, wouldn't it be one of Gotham's vigilantes?

But you can't help but hesitate. Leaving means leaving Jason. No matter what he's done, why he's keeping you here, Jason wouldn't hurt you. He's been good to you. He's– he cares. He wants you safe.

"I'm not in danger," You tell Robin, and it sounds weak to your own ears. Your eyes dart between him and the city. It's wrong. You know it's wrong. But your hand won't move.

He looks like he pities you. It almost makes you sick. And then he tells you what The Arkham Knight is really planning.

The canisters of gas filled with enough fear toxin to cover the entire eastern seaboard. The nearly suicidal, revenge mission that ends in Batman's death.

That does make you feel sick.

"You have to come with me," Robin half-pleads, "You'll be safe."

You swallow thickly. It always comes down to that, doesn't it? Where people think you'll be safest. But you can't help but think that Robin is right. That Jason The Arkham Knight is out of control.

You reach for his hand. He helps you up onto the railing.

All hell breaks loose.

A gunshot fires. Robin makes a noise of pain and loses his footing.

The Arkham Knight barrels into you and sends you both falling over the railing and towards the pavement below.

There's screaming. There's– you're screaming. You're falling and screaming, and Jason tackled you over the edge of a building.

Your heart is pounding, and you're going to die, and you've never been so terrified in your life. The wind whips past your ears, the cold air bites at your skin. And the Arkham Knight has you in a death grip as he barks out orders for you to follow.

"Hold onto me– c'mon, you know how, move your legs," he demands, his grasp on your never faltering.

It's mechanical, a shadow of a memory that reminds you you do know how. You wrap your arms around his neck, hook your legs around his waist.

You think you hear him sigh in relief when you do, his arm clutching you all the more closer as he shoots his grappling gun for the nearest building.

Your stomach swoops as the momentum tosses you both onto a nearby roof, and you nearly sob when his feet hit the ground.

You're quick to untangle yourself from him, feet dropping to the concrete. He only wraps both arms around you to keep you tucked against his chest.

You want to let go of him, want to stop hugging him like he's the only lifeline you have, but you can't. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes you feel dizzy and sick. The fear of nearly dying makes your knees weak and tears prick your eyes.

Jason just strokes the back of your head, murmuring soft reassurances, "You're okay. You're okay. I got you. I won't let them take you away."

You think you let out another sob, all but collapsing against him. You feel like a mess, head spinning and throat tight. You'd almost died.

"Sorry, doll, we've got company," he says, voice going hard.

You don't get to process his words before he's dipping down, and hoisting you over his shoulder.

"Jason–" You choke out, adrenaline and fear spiking as you scramble for something to grab onto, fingers digging into the straps of his armor.

He doesn't answer, only breaks into a run, his arm wrapped around the back of thighs to keep you steady.

Gotham passed by in the blur of colors as you try not to throw up. You register Robin chasing after you. It's the only relief you've felt all night to know he's alive.

The relief disappears when The Arkham Knight shouts an order for drones, and the shots they fire at the vigilante following you makes your ears ring.

You wince as Jason jumps from roof to roof, jostling you and digging your body into the hard plates of his armor. It doesn't seem to slow him down, especially when he lets out a frustrated curse.

You'd be more confused if you weren't so panicked and overwhelmed. That is until, you catch sight of a black figure gaining ground across the rooftops behind you.

Batman. Batman is here. Batman can– you cut your train of thought off. Batman can't save you. It feels cold when the truth becomes clearer than day. Nothing can get you away from The Arkham Knight.

Dots dance in your vision, and bile rises in your throat. It passes in a haze, the way Jason drops down onto the streets, the way he shoves you into one of the armored cars lining the streets. The way the tank takes so many twists and turns it makes the urge to throw up that much stronger.

It's clear you've lost your tail. Either they followed the wrong tank, or they decided you weren't worth the trouble. The second thought makes you retch.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to rub your back, to try and comfort you. A small part of you is comforted. A bigger part of you wants to scream and cry and hit him.

He continues to order the men driving the tank, his touch never faltering in its rhythmic movements.

Your vision swims, the drive passes in a sickening, adrenaline crashed fueled blur.

You think you might be crying. But it doesn't really matter. Jason hooks his arms under your knees and cradles you to his chest just the same. He carries you out of the armored tank.

You only vaguely take in your new surroundings. The rush of militia soldiers around you, the tables and boxes of weapons and ammo, the shouts and laughs over another one of Batman's failures.

None of that matters either. All that matters is Jason's gloves digging into your skin, the way you can feel his heart pound even through the armor.

He carries you into a room. You think it's some kind of office. That doesn't matter either. He sets you on a couch. It's surprisingly soft. The leather feels cool against your skin. It eases the sick feeling in your stomach, the spinning of your head.

"Get some rest," he murmurs, and fingers trace your jaw for a moment, soft, gentle, and almost apologetic.

Then he walks to the desk. You watch in dazed horror when he pulls out a shiny, gold colored chain. You freeze in shock and betrayal when he attaches a cuff to your ankle and the other to the leg of the couch.

You think he murmurs that he's sorry it came to this.

But then he leaves, and you think he isn't sorry at all.

You break down into the leather cushions. Half you wishes you were still with Bean in that stupid penthouse. The other half of you wishes you had taken Robin's hand sooner.

But that doesn't matter. Nothing does. Because you're still trapped, stuck in some base that screams danger.

And you can't quite convince yourself this time, that Jason Todd wouldn't hurt you.

[is-that-plural]

switchin it up a bit!! I want to suggest; AANG from atla!! I personally dont think hes a system, but i can see how they would see him that way! The avatar state is a state of dissociation and aang geta blackout amnesia and doesnt remember what he does when hes in that state. And also hes multiple people in one body!! kind of.

[saw someone make that argument... which like. okay. but those are just him, its a psiritual thing, not a system thing, he believes that those are his past lives, and those are cANONICALLY his past lives in the show? like they have a whole spiritual reason for his "systemness", but we want to know what YOU think about it :3]

-🌀sys (blurry, probably richie)

!!

(this image is so small T-T im so sorry aang,,)

from what i know and have been told, i agree with you guys ! this reads a lot more as a spiritual Actual Past Life thing rather than a plural thing, plus adding on further; if i remember correctly he was only able to talk to one? of them?? like the previous avatars don't know him and never have and never will and aren't really in his brain more so in his soul? sort of.

(FULL DISCLOSURE: i haven't actually watched atla myself, but we have watched several Several video essays over-analyzing the show as a whole, and so that is where this view is coming from)

Rating: Not really plural, but theres something there for some systems to relate to !

[deadghosy]

Since your stuck I decided to help you out with the power of creativity!

How would characters of Hazbin Hotel react to Swan/Duck reader it's branching from penguin reader with how she got stuck in hell for a while

The power mainly focuses on them flying and wind magic ect!

REMINDER: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED‼️

HAZBIN HOTEL X DUCK! READER

Warning: yandere themes.

prompt: a common mistake made your life eventual as people started to fawn over you

You were supposed to be in heaven…BUT NOOOO, they sent you to hell because they mistook you for someone else. They could’ve just said they were full like a night club…

So now you are in a pond swimming around peacefully. But there’s always a man with a hat and an apple cane that comes to see you literally everyday. You don’t know who he is, but he got attached badly. He would bring bread and show you rubber ducks with an awkward smile.

You just go over to him and eat the bread. You never learned how to talk since birth since your mother abused you. Being jealous of your pure soul and natural beauty. She always told you to shush. Making the sour taste in your mouth sting to never talk.

Eventually the man introduced himself as Lucifer, that’s when it hit you that this man was the first fallen angel, and king of hell. He must have seen your eyes widen in shock. “You can understand me?” He asked you as he scratched under your beak making you lean in his touch. You nodded as he smiles showing his sharp teeth.

“That’s even bettter.” He said

Two days after that, you were literally sleeping when you woke up to feel two hands pick you up, it was Lucifer who cooed at your drowsy face as he takes you to a hotel. Were you finally getting a place to stay instead of outside?

“Listen, my daughter has a dream…to redeem sinners…I wanna believe in her, but our people chose to make hell this way.” He says with a somber look. He took you inside to see basically a female version of Lucifer but more cheery looking as she gasped at you. “Dad? Is that the duck you’ve been talking about?! Aww they’re soooo cute!” She says as she holds you.

And that’s your story of how now you are basically part of the hotel’s family.

I imagine you just getting prince/princess treatment everyday from the hotel and Lucifer himself as he literally trims your duck fur as you just sit there on a fancy ass pillow.

I headcannon that angel dust buys you shades a lot because your yellow/white feathers is so majestic, he just had to make you even more bad ass.

Angel dust loves how high headed you are, not letting anyone tear you down even with a word. He admires you, so he wants you to admire him as well.

I headcannon for you to deadass have an attitude when bothered. Literally Alastor wanted to see what was so special about you. And so he woke you up from your beauty sleep making you go haywire on him.

You pecked him as he tried to hit you, possibly trying to injure you only to injure himself as he came out pissed off with a smile. He definitely spit out a feather as you quacked out a laugh as if this shit was looney tunes.

Charlie always rants to you about her days and how her and vaggie’s relationship is going. Charlie was notified by her father that you can understand her. She doubted it at first, but when you actually nodded she gasped shocked with stars in her eyes.

You and Charlie grew close…to the point she was almost like her father. Constantly checking up on you, feeding you. Watching you. You tried to push it off…but it was kinda unsettling.

You could obviously fly, which you do around the hotel to spread your wings. But when you fly you have a glowing yellow light around you.

I can see you just chilling at the bar as residents come in and out as you just get petted as husk grumbles a little and also pets you. Husk was immediately enchanted by your soft duck feathers

You love to make small tornados at sinners who cause trouble in the hotel. You are the hotel’s duck, so you must at least protect the guests at least.

Vaggie is the one to always make sure to research what ducks eat before making sure you can eat them. She likes how you make everyone feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even her.

You damn well hated that you died into a duck body..but it felt nice knowing that you couldn’t just live the possible human or at least whatever you are. Demon or angel. You could possibly be in a pond sleeping and eating bread all damn day.

I imagine Sir Pentious had put a top hat on you that’s similar like the ones his egg boiz wear. So he loves to have you around when he builds things.

You doze off like this and it’s so cute to the point they will record and take a picture of you. (If you don’t wanna click link, it’s a duck nodding its head off until it goes limp since the duck is tired)

I headcannon Alastor to hate you at first and want to cook you for duck stew, but then he falls in love with how entertaining and smart you are. You technically aren’t just a mere duck.

I can see you just making small hurricanes in your bath tub when niffty has to wash you. You once accidentally splashed her. But she chuckled splashing you.

A sinner once tried to take you from the hotel’s pond that Lucifer made for you only be found 30 secs later taking you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TOUCHING MY DUCKLING?!” Lucifer yells angrily at the sinner who got knocked flat on their ass. His demon form was coming out as fire spits out his mouth when he huffed.

You did a comedic side eye at Lucifer who was acting possessive as hell itself. You didn’t even know what to do as this man kept holding you like a pet duck you seen fat white men do in the streets.

The sinner didn’t live after that.

I can see husk just petting you softly and then eventually just falling asleep on your body. Like his head is on your body as you just watch hell tv as he snores. Oddly comfortable in your soft feathers.

You literally waddle around the hotel wearing a cute scarf with your favorite color. Alastor oddly knitted it for you like a old grandma to their grandchild 😭

I imagine you just side eyeing Lucifer as he suddenly had the urge to read more information about ducks and how their eggs look. So imagine how Lucifer would act if you pregnant. But the thing is, you rather die then be in pain in birth.

Lucifer makes you a lot of blue things to remind you of a pond since that was the place you chill in a lot. It was to the poke Charlie and Lucifer nodded to make you a pond in the backside of the hotel. It’s your little chill haven.

You felt pissy one day because your feathers were molting..so the wind outside was heavy cause your feathers were just falling and you hated it. You felt insecure but the crew felt your feelings and started to cheer you up. Soon or later, your new feathers came back quickly.

The Vee’s had definitely notice your presence since you first came here. I mean who the hell looks like a damn duck down here with pure beautiful feathers that remind them of so called heaven.

I can see the Vee’s and you having the relationship where it’s basically like team rocket and pikachu type troupe. 😭 they always fail trying to kidnap you because you literally put out ducks that look like you and they fall for it, EVERY SINGLE TIME-

I headcannon you have a ribbon your favorite color wrapped around your neck like a bow or collar with your name on it❤️

Vox had literally set his drone to spy on you as he watches with a sick grin at how adorable and elegant you looked just swimming in your sweet pond and how you just outsmart Alastor. 

Imagine how badass you are to suddenly turn big in size because the hotel was being threatened. So you literally grew in a size of the hotel building and flapped your wings to fly them bitches to who knows nowhere.

If you were on the same branch, you would definitely be the older sister of penguin! Reader if it was lore type shit 😭 you don’t play no games about your emotions as you are always observing

LOL IMAGINE YOU WADDLING TO GO TO THE BATHROOM LIKE A HUMAN AND THE EGG BOIZ JUST FOLLOW AFTER YOU AS IF YOU WERE THEIR MOTHER-

The Vee’s definitely sneak on you by Vox’s drone that swarms around your pond without your knowledge.

Velvette literally sends you nice outfits your size. Literally cute outfits where the holes are for your wings so you can fly and look drippy as hell.

See I could definitely imagine you sneaking out the hotel to just get hooked up with your new outfit stylist which is Velvette now.

Vox

Imagine how cold the state duck! Reader has (hear me out, edit audio type shit starts playing-)

I can see you just swimming and Lucifer takes a picture of you, admiring your beauty in place as you just flock around your damn pond. “That’s my baby….” He says wiping a dramatic tear from his eyes.

Valentino. Now I won’t say he would be obsessed romantically but more platonically as he would love for you to be part of his life as his pet only. Like an actual pet he would take care of.

I headcannon Alastor actually tried to feed you some bread…and you accepted it making Alastor smile wildly at how you trusted him getting close to you for one.

Lmao you literally did some Wingardium Leviosa ass shit on someone because you didn’t like how they looked at you 😭

You literally are so coddled and spoiled…it was to the point you would be walking or more like waddling down the damn streets alone and people would aw at your beauty and gracious. It’s overwhelming, but at least you know people won’t fuck with you.

But people just never learnt to keep their hands off of a beautiful creature.

Once Adam got sent down to find an angel that was suppose to be in heaven. He didn’t except for you to be a fuckin duck. So he laughed and took you up with ease as you quacked furiously, trying to get at least someone’s attention.

It was too late as Lucifer sees you get flown up into the heaven portal. Lucifer dropped the tray of lemonade in shock to see his beloved flying into the portal. Lucifer felt his heart squeeze knowing that the bastard knew he couldn’t get into heaven.

Lucifer quickly spout out his wings and fly sharply towards adam’s fading figure. Adam snickers seeing Lucifer’s anger in his glowing red eyes. He turned around and waved you around to taunt Lucifer as you had a “I don’t have time for this…” face. Literally you pecked Adam’s face and hands making Adam spazz out and throw you at Lucifer’s face.

“FINE! TAKE YOUR DUMB ASS DUCK!” Adam yells as he flies off grumbling about making you into duck stew

So Lucifer was happy with a derpy expression and calmed down holding you. He got even more protective as he makes sure you are watched 24/7. He wanted to give you freedom…but after that stunt Adam did. He’s not letting anyone touch you without his permission. Of course his daughter can though!

But what if Adam had succeeded in his capture of you, things would be most likely how it was in hell….just more clean and healthy.

St. Peter definitely greeted you with a warm smile as you didn’t….you didn’t like how he just sassed you and let you fall to hell. So of course it was rocky, but soon or later you two got along since he brides you with bread. He soon gets obsessed with how you get so trusting over things. He uses that to his advantages.

Sera greets you with open arms, literally as she picks you up. Cooing at your pure yellow/white feathers that matches the aesthetic of heaven. You match perfectly here as your angel form is two pair of wings. Your normal duck wings and angel wings. You are the most beautiful angel she ever met and laid eyes on as she shows you around heaven. Every part and area of it. This shall be your new home.

Emily won’t be a crazyyy person over you. As I can see her being a light hearted person who doesn’t love bomb you in a manipulative manner but only wants to be your friend in a loving way. She finds you amazing at how smart and caring you are towards her as you visit her and she visits you back. She brings you every bread know to man and heaven as she noticed you like bread. You and her are clearly amazing friends to each other.

The Angels adore your every movement as if you were also a god/godesss. You were confused at this attention. It was way more overwhelming when you were in hell with the others. Just like how the penguin! Reader was, you made a social media account and half of heaven followed you. It was an insane amount of followers that you didn’t mean to have. But the angels love to greet you as you fly/walk by. With you being so graceful here, who wouldn’t say you belonged here.

Adam most definitely is possessive and always manipulates you into thinking he is superior. He forces himself to be your caretaker, he literally makes you stay in his place all day and all time watched over. He feels the need to control your very bidding and movement as this dickhead degrades you to make you feel useless. It sometimes works, but sometimes doesn’t. 

Lute is a controlling person who sees your intelligence as a threat as she wants to break you into her clasp. She’s the second most controlling than Adam. But she’s an overwhelming controlling as she wants you you to see her as your protector and person you can be dependent on at all times. She wants you to be able to tell her everything you know so she can just please you.

Adam finds it amusing at how you got use it heaven so quick despite this new attention. You literally sit on his lap napping as he lounges on the couch. Basically watching sports or whatever.

You can’t help but think, “why am I even surprised.”

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[candy69gurl]

hiii 🤗🤗 im new to your blog, i know you write dark fiction i was wondering if youd be open to some fluff? Like soft sex with sukuna?

Infernal Passion

Heian Era Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings- 18+, slight non-con, loss of innocence, size kink (Sukuna in true form with 2 dicks, 4 arms and abdomen mouth), mentions of violence (Sukuna eats humans but gentle only with you), use of nicknames, belly buldge, pussy eating, fingering (Sukuna has nails), nipple playing, raw sex (cumming inside), breeding kink, mentions of lactation

wc - 2.4K

ART NOT MINE !

"—Oh, Uraume, bring the new offering to me." Sukuna grumbles, his voice low and menacing. "Tie her up securely and make sure she knows her place. I won't tolerate any resistance from her." He smirks cruelly, savouring the thought of what's to come.

Uraume enters the room, dragging you by the arm, your eyes wide with fear.

Uraume ties you to a wooden post, leaving you bound and vulnerable. Your eyes are filled with tears, and your breathing has turned shallow, each gasp echoing softly in the dimly lit room. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the many who faced the same fate as you.

"Ah, such a delicate little thing." Sukuna's eyes rake over you, taking in every detail of your body. "I can already taste the fear in your blood. It's going to be a delightful meal." He reaches out, gently running a finger down your cheek, his touch cold and calculating. "Such a sweet dessert after a huge feast."

"P-please d-dont eat me.. I-I don't want to die.. I beg of you", you plead, your body already limb under his gaze.

Sukuna's eyes narrow, studying your pleading expression. "Very well, I shall spare you this time." He leans in closer, his breath warming against your skin. "But you have to give me something in return.

"What do you have to offer me?" Sukuna asks, his gaze intense. "You must give me something truly valuable to earn my mercy today." He steps back, crossing his arms, and waits for your response.

You are trembling against his piercing gaze, words stuck in your throat.

"Yes, yes, I can tell you're frightened," Sukuna says mockingly, "but I assure you, I am quite patient. What do you think would please me enough to forget your insignificant life?" He watches you closely, examining your trembling form and the fear etched upon your face. "Perhaps your body could provide some sort of entertainment... Tell me, have you ever served a man before? Or perhaps multiple men?"

Tears stream down your face as you desperately search for words. "N-no." You whisper, feeling the blush rise to your cheeks, "I am... pure, untouched." Your voice wavers, and you bite your lip nervously, hoping that your submission will be enough.

Sukuna's eyes gleam with interest as he studies your reaction. "Pure, are you? That could be intriguing." He takes a step closer, towering over you, his massive form looming over your tiny frame. "But I require more than just words, little one. Show me how much you value your life, and maybe I'll decide if it's worth keeping." He gestures Uraume towards his chamber, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Inside, you will find what I need. Fail me, and I will eat your heart and make you suffer until your last breath."

Uraume approaches you, their expression softening slightly as they untie the bonds restraining you. "Fear not, dear one. Lord Sukuna requires your purity intact." They whisper gently, helping you stand and guiding you towards the chamber, "We shall prepare you for his pleasure."

Within the chamber, a warm bath steams gently, and a pristine robe is laid out on a nearby stool. Uraume helps you undress and step into the water, washing away the dirt and fear clinging to your body. Their gentle hands work over your tense muscles, and their movements are confident and practiced.

As you relax in the warm water, Uraume carefully dries you off and helps you into the robe, adjusting the fabric to fall just right over your slender form. "You are ready now, dear one." Uraume's voice is calm and soothing, and their eyes never leave you. "Remember, you must please Lord Sukuna if you wish to live." They lead you back to the main room, where Sukuna awaits, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Well, well," Sukuna drawls, his gaze raking over your body. "Look at you, all cleaned up and ready for my pleasure." He runs a hand through his hair, amusement flickering in his eyes.

Sukuna motions for you to approach the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as you move cautiously towards him. With a single swift motion, he removes your robe, revealing your innocence and vulnerability to him. "Ah, so tempting."

"You are merely a morsel in comparison to my size and strength, yet your innocence and fragility only add to your allure." Sukuna growls, his massive hands tracing gently down your slender frame. "And here I thought your kind were all tough and unyielding, but you are anything but. You're soft, delicate, and, oh, so delectable." As he speaks, he pulls you closer, your bodies pressing intimately together.

His grip tightens, pulling you even closer, his erection pressing against your belly. "Your innocence is intoxicating, little one." He bends down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss. You taste fear and surrender, which only fuels his desire further. His fingers trail down to where your legs meet, hesitating for a moment before pushing on your legs.

Your eyes fail to meet his, a tender blush filling your cheeks.

"Such shyness is adorable." But you'll learn quickly that there is no escape from my desires." His red eyes devouring your innocence.

With that, he sinks to his knees, his tongue flicking out to taste your essence.

The great Ryomen Sukuna on his knees for a mere human like you, you think.

Your thighs shake, his tongue is huge, one slide is enough to cover your whole womanhood. He savours your shock and fear, letting them mingle with the sweet flavour of your arousal. "So good; you taste better than raw blood." He murmurs, licking and sucking at your tender flesh, driving you wild with both pleasure and terror.

You squirm and whimper against his tongue. "Ah, so sensitive." Sukuna growls, his tongue darting out to catch the droplets of your arousal. "You're going to make me lose control, little one."

Sukuna's eyes widen in surprise at your sensitivity, his tongue lapping up the flood of wetness that cascaded onto his face. This is unlike any human he has encountered before. He cannot remember experiencing such sensitivity from others. It makes him thirsty for more, for your submission and pleasure.

Your mewls and whimpers turn him on further. "Such sweet sounds. You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Sukuna's voice is thick with lust, and his tongue never ceases its relentless assault on your sensitive core. He thrusts two thick fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls as you squirm beneath him, his nails brushing your walls drawing out moans from you, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

"A-ah, too much, Lord."

Sukuna groans low in his throat, fighting the urge to claim you right then and there. "If you can't handle that, how will you take my full length inside you?" He asks rhetorically, his fingers working in and out of you, stretching your wet heat in preparation.

Slowly, he eases himself free from his robes, his two massive members standing proud and eager. He positions himself at your entrance, taking a moment to let you feel the weight of his manhood pressing against your delicate folds. "Ready to accept what you owe me, little one?" A cruel smirk curves his lips, knowing you have no choice but to submit.

"Are you going to put both of them inside me?" You are terrified at the thought of his two lengths invading you.

"Don't worry, I won't," Sukuna responds, even though he wanted to push both his dicks inside you, the thought of your tender body feeling pain from it made him rebuff his thoughts. He gently guides his upper dick to your entrance.

Your thoughts are a mix of terror and confusion. You never imagined yourself in such a position—being taken by a powerful demon who holds your life in his hands. Yet, as he slowly pushes into you, the unfamiliar sensation overwhelms you. You cannot help but wonder if this is how your end comes, consumed by this beast. But strangely, your body responds to him, arching into his touch, craving more even

You couldn't believe it. A creature of such immense power and cruelty is gentle with you. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, almost tender. It's a stark contrast to the fear and violence that defined your encounter thus far. As he moves within you, you feel a strange mix of emotions—fear, yes, but also a strange sense of safety. It's an odd sensation to be at the mercy of a monster yet feel protected.

As he continues his slow, gentle thrusts, you can't help but wonder,

Was he capable of more than just cruelty and violence? Or was this just another part of his twisted game, designed to confuse and disorient you before claiming you completely?

"Feeling good, little bird?", he coos.

"Y-yes lord."

"Just for you, little bird. I'll be as gentle as silk." Sukuna whispers, his pace slowing down even further. His two hands hold your legs, and the third one strokes his ignored dick, a strange tongue formed from his hand slides against it. His fourth hand slides down to stroke your clit. The sudden burst of pleasure elicits a gasp from you.

"It feels so good, Lord Sukuna."

"Good. Enjoy it while you can." His thumb circles your clit, tongue formed from his hand occasionally lapping at it making your body flinch, taunting you with orgasm and drawing it out until your core is begging for release.

"Please, I am going to release, my lord", you eyes pleading him to let you release.

"I know.." Sukuna's breath hitches,"I've never been so careful with anyone, especially a mere mortal." His voice dripped with arrogance.

His two shafts pulsated, straining for release.

He hisses at your tightness as you squeeze his dick, creaming it white. Your moans echo through the room.

"Ah, so sweet, hmph,"  he purrs.

Without missing a beat, Sukuna switches the shaft currently inside you with the one he was stroking. He leans down and takes the newly freed member into his abdominal mouth. The sight of his shaft being devoured by his cursed abdomen sends shivers down your spine.

Sukuna seems to notice the direction of your gaze."They both want to be in you, sweetheart. Perhaps not today... I shall claim you with one of my dicks only."

"Love you..," your tone barely audible.

"Love me?" Sukuna's eyes narrow, his brow furrowing. This affection was unexpected, especially from someone he was about to devour a while ago. Yet, there is something intriguing about it. "Love? What do you know of love, little bird?"

He continues to move inside you, his pace increasing ever so slightly. Each thrust is deeper and harder than the last.

"I just know you are never going to hurt me. That's enough for me to love you."

Sukuna laughs cruelly, his hips moving faster now. His laughter echoes in the room, filled with both scorn and amusement. "Oh, how naïve you are. Perhaps I will love you back on one condition."

Your stomach bulges with each thrust, revealing a glimpse of his massive member. It moves in and out of you, leaving behind a trail of pleasure and pain.

With every thrust, your cheeks redden, and your eyes lock onto his.

"Will you be able to bear my child?"

You bite your already swollen lips, thinking your future with the curse king.

"Answer me!" Sukuna roars, slamming into you harder; his need for confirmation is overwhelming.

You swallow hard, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Yes! Yes, Lord Sukuna! I'll bear your child!"

"Good. You deserve my love then." Sukuna kisses your neck, then his tongue slides down your sternum to your breasts, his shaft disappearing entirely before re-emerging from between your legs.

"You'll bear my child, and you'll remember me every time you look at them. You'll remember your lord." Each word carries the weight of ownership, sealing your fate.

His eyes gleam with anticipation, imagining the sight of your breasts swelling with milk. The thought sends a shiver down his spine.

"Imagine it, your nipples engorged, milk from them flowing freely. Yes, that would be lovely." His grip tightens on her hip, his thrusts becoming deeper and more possessive. His mouth sucks on your nipples while one of his hands pinches your nipples, thinking about how they would look, swollen and ready to feed his future kids. With each squeeze and suckle, you whimper, your body writhing beneath him. This is a future you never expected, but somehow, it excites you more than terrifies you.

His thrusts grow longer and slower, each one filled with possession and dominance. His mouth moves from one breast to the next, licking and sucking while his hand plays with the other.

"So close, are we?" His voice was low and seductive, promising pleasure and pain.

"Please, Lord, fill me. Fill me with your seed," you speak out the words you never imagined, you will say.

"So desperate, already? You beg well, sweetheart." Sukuna chuckles, his hips pumping faster. His breathing's ragged, and his gaze fixed on your face. "Are you sure you want this?"

Your lips swollen and red from biting as you let go of your moans while you orgasm again.

He does not wait for an answer, instead driving deep into you and filling you completely. His hot seed spills into your womb, marking you forever. His other dick squirts, landing on your chest and tummy. His eyes darken, and his entire body becomes tense.

"Now, you carry a piece of me. Forever bound to me."

Once spent, he collapses onto her, his breath ragged. His mouth found the curve of her neck, licking gently. "We have a deal, little bird. You bear my children, and I'll protect you. Our bond is sealed now."

"Look at you," Sukuna murmurs, pushing himself off your body. Standing up, he steps back to survey his art.

The mess is undeniable—your chest and belly covered in his seed, your thighs wet with evidence of their coupling.

His finger circles around your nipple, sending shockwaves through your body.

"How messy and used you look right now. Covered head to toe in my filth. I've claimed you and marked my territory for you. No one will dare touch you again. I'll leave you here to rest, my queen. When morning comes, Uraume will take care of you."

"I love you, my queen,"  he says, kissing your temple, letting you drift into the kingdom of dreams, where you are taking care of lord sukuna's kids.

[moonstruckme]

the sleepy remus drabble was everything but what about sleepy james x reader just cuddling on the couch with remus and sirius teasing them omfgg

Thanks for requesting lovely! I realized halfway through writing this that I wasn't sure if you meant rem and sirius were there platonically or not, but I hope this is alright <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 870 words

Even when you hear the voices, you pretend you don’t, too comfortable on the plush cushion of James’ hoodie. Opening your eyes isn’t worth the effort. 

“Is this what they do when we’re not home?” Sirius’ voice is low and ripe with faux outrage.

James hushes him, so he’s awake apparently. His thumb moves over your tummy, big hand tucked into the warmth between your sweatshirt and your bare skin. “You’ll wake her,” he says, voice still sticky with sleep.

“She ought to be awake, it’s five in the afternoon!” 

Remus’ voice is softer, skeptical. “I don’t see how either of you expect to sleep through the night if you nap like this during the day.”

“We manage,” James yawns. 

You hear Sirius huff. If the muscles in your face were more active you think you’d smile. “I thought we were going to Marlene’s thing tonight,” he complains. 

“Still planning on it.” James’ palm splays over your middle, warm and safe. “We’re resting up.” 

“This is how you prepare for Friday nights now? Fuck, we must be getting old.” 

You whine at his volume, nuzzling your face into James’ chest. 

“Oh, so she is awake. What, sweet thing, you don’t feel like saying hi?” 

This time James coos at your protesting sound. His hand slips from beneath your sweatshirt to wrap around your shoulders, shielding you from your pestering boyfriend. 

“Oh, let’s have a bit of sympathy,” Remus says, sounding amused, “she’s had a long, hard day of napping. She deserves a bit of rest.” 

You want to remind him it’s your day off, but speaking feels like giving into wakefulness, and that is something you are not inclined to do. Instead, you try to wriggle beneath the blanket halfway up James’ torso, curling in on yourself like a roly poly. He helps you out, pulling it up to cover your head and draping an arm over your balled-up form. 

“It’s her day off,” he says, your hero. “Why shouldn’t she get to rest?” 

“That’s fair enough,” Remus allows, “but why were you sleeping?”

James hesitates. “Well, I didn’t have anything to do after training and she…she lured me in.” 

It’s true. James after rugby training is like Remus after he spends all day reading; he’s all worn out and pliable, and you’d practically only had to open your arms for him to fall right into them and then a cuddle on the couch had turned into a two-hour nap. Terribly unfortunate. Certainly not your plan all along. 

You decide it’s your turn to protect James from the others, wriggling up on his chest and covering his head with the blanket. You see his smile through half-lidded eyes, and outside of your little cave, Remus chuckles. 

“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” 

“I think we should get in bed and have a cuddle they’re not invited to,” says Sirius. “See how they like it.” 

“I’m not sure we can leave them in good conscience.” The sound of Remus' smile makes you smile, your cheek smushing into James’ chest. “She’s just taken Jamie. If we let her go on like this, she’ll have them both sleeping ‘til tomorrow.” 

That actually sounds rather appealing. 

“They’re jealous of us,” James whispers. You hum your agreement, and he kisses the crown of your head. 

“We could go to all their favorite things,” Sirius proposes. “Make them remember the benefits of leaving the couch.” 

“Like what? Watch sports?” 

“And eat pastries. She loves a sweet.” 

“Mm, yeah. I could fancy a sweet.” 

“From the shop on sixth? They should still be open, yeah?” 

“Stay strong, angel,” James whispers. “Don’t let them break you.” 

“They ought to be. Oh, and the pub down that way will be showing the Manchester match tonight. We could stop and see that.” 

“Sick and twisted!” James throws the blanket off, uncovering you in the process. “You never watch football with me.” 

“I have,” Remus hedges, “that one time.” 

“Last year! And you were reading your book on the other side of the pillow!” 

He turns sheepish. “Didn’t realize you’d noticed that.” 

“But now you’re going to watch it just to spite me?” 

“No,” Sirius admits. “We were never going to watch football, Jamie, sorry.” James deflates, and you squeeze him tight around the middle in a show of solidarity. 

“But we can go by the bakery on our way to Marlene’s thing,” Remus says, adding when you perk up, “if we leave soon enough. They make those danishes you like on Fridays, don’t they?” 

“Seriously?” you ask, your voice croaky and hopeful. 

“That’s me, babe,” Sirius teases, “and I’m down to stop by, but only if I get what I’m owed.” At your blank look, he raises a dark brow. “My welcome home kiss?” 

Oh. “You’re gonna have to come down here,” you mumble. He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but obliges you, bending at the waist to take your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours firmly. He does the same to James once you’re done, straightening with a satisfied look on his face. 

“Appeased?” Remus asks placidly. 

“Yes,” Sirius answers, “the evening may now continue. Up, you two. We’ve got places to be.” 

[chxrryhansen]

2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   

-💎

ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.

rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.

rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.

“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.

“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”

you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”

he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.

“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.

“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”

a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.

rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.

“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.

“cum.”

he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”

your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”

rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.

your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.

“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.

he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”

if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”

[tojisun]

biker!simon (ghost) riley x fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; mask kink; D/s; off-screen scene discussion (like power play); dacryphilia; extended foreplay; petnames; mean simon // 2.6k words

biker!simon mlist

it is carnal. desperate. pawing hands finding each other, trying to get rid of the leather.

you fall on the bed with a huff, body bouncing as the mattress ripples, soft sheets tickling your bare skin. you look up, blinking past the haze, watching as simon gazes at you – clothed. helmeted.

there is something that stirs in your stomach at seeing the disparity – you, naked and bare for him; him guarded. shielded. like he is a mere spectator of your body. like you are made to have you served on a silver platter for him to nip at your flesh and to etch his passions on your skin. like all that you are is his to enjoy – a one-sided servitude. 

you tremble with need, watching as he fiddles with his belt, metal clanking together when he goes to unbuckle it. you bite your bottom lip in anticipation, following the way his thick fingers pinch his zipper to tug downwards, giving you a glimpse of his black boxers. then, he reaches for his helmet.

“no!” you yelp, scrambling to stop simon from removing the gear. you don’t even register what you did or how the word ripped through your lips until it resonated in the room, your chest heaving when the realization struck.

simon’s head cocks to the side slowly, looking animated with his helmet. it makes you clench your thighs close, putting pressure on your throbbing clit, and you watch with bated breath as simon’s head dips down to follow the length of your legs.

there is something in not seeing his face that has you aching, desire creeping in from the base of your spine to the tips of your fingers. something that simon must have felt too because he unhooks his hand from his chin strap to continue shucking his cargos just low enough that you can see the chub underneath his boxers.

“like what you see?” he asks, his crooning voice muffled by his helmet.

your legs squeeze tighter, your arm unconsciously coming up to cover your tits. you do not answer him, too caught up in watching as he slowly palms himself through his boxers, cupping his hand around his tent like he’s reminding you what he’s packing.

like he’s showing you what he promises he’ll give you.

but your silence makes him snarl, his hand falling to his side before he stalks towards you. his shins bump the edge of the bed, then he bends forward, his big frame towering over your trembling figure. you feel like a prey caught before him, naked and grappling with the desire that chokes you because there is something addicting at being so powerless before him.

simon laughs, something faint and mean, like he knows what got you spiralling. like he understands. 

he reaches a hand out and pushes your hair away from your face. “i should’ve known that y’r a slut for this.”

the words are whispered, barely breaching the mouth guard of his helmet, but they pierce through the building static between the two of you and you couldn’t help the whimper that falls from your lips nor the willowy gasp of his name. 

simon breathes in sharply before surging towards you, his gloved hands reaching to tug your arms away from your body so he can see you again. you resist with a little pull on your end, your mind buzzing with a building fog, but simon’s hold only gains strength as he tightens his fists around your wrists. 

“show me,” he grunts, pulling you towards him.

you glide across the sheets easily, simon’s overwhelming strength stirring your desires even more. shamefully, you feel your cunt dampen, slick gathering at the lips of your pussy just at having been manhandled by your lover. you want to press your face on the inside of your arm and hide how affected you are by simon’s display of dominance, but his hands are already sliding down your sides, hooking by your hips, before stopping just at the meat of your thighs.

you tumble backwards, head falling to the mattress when simon kneels between your legs, slotting himself there like that is his rightful spot; like that is where he has always belonged. 

then, he stops. you think you know why.

“oh, sweetheart,” he croons, folding himself towards you just enough to make it easy for him to peer at your glistening heat. “look at you leakin’.”

you tear your eyes away from the ceiling to peer down at him, your cheeks burning at the attention he pours into your cunt, only to freeze, your breath getting stuck in your lungs. 

because how could you even forget?

the expanse of your wet cunt is reflected on his visor, the details stark and clear, and you hiccup, ripping your eyes away from the image and thrashing to curl into yourself. shame unfurls in the pit of your stomach, snuffing out the rumbling want that had just overwhelmed you, but simon holds you down to make you stop. 

“you have nothin’ to be shy about, kid,” he says, easing his hands away from your wrists to grip your hips. “look at me. i said look at me.”

you sniffle as you gaze back at him, flinching when all you see is your face reflected back. simon pauses at your reaction, his hold on your hips going lax.

“do you want the helmet off?” he asks, genuine concern now lining his voice. 

you blink, twining your hands together now that simon isn’t holding them. yes please tickles your lips but you hesitate, battling with yourself because-

because you still want the thrill of this – the brief imbalance of power between the two of you where you are simon’s prey, and all that you are is at his mercy; the temporary display of his darkness, stretching over the horizon as he bears down onto you, diminishing your very being into nothing but his to use for pleasure.  

because you ache to feel small. 

so you shake your head slowly, steeling yourself as you continue to look at simon’s visor, trying to see past your reflection as though you can catch a glimpse of his eyes if only to show him that you still want this. 

but more than your want, more than the hunger you have for simon, you want to show him that you trust him. 

and when you feel simon’s hands spasming from where they are gripping your hips, you know he understands. 

“okay,” he says, nodding. his bobbing head almost makes you giggle. “but tell me when you want to stop, alright sweetheart? remember your safeword?”

“mhmm,” you hum, writhing on the bed to get closer to him, sighing when your greedy hands finally get to rub along his abdomen. “cake pops.”

he cups your cheek, the leather smooth against your skin. “that’s right. cake pops.”

—

“please,” you sob, trembling in desperation as simon continues to tease his fingers along your slit. he has yet to give you a taste of what you want even when his cock weeps, staining the fabric of his boxers. you want to commend him for his self restraint but you know he is doing this to tease you. to drive you to insanity. 

simon remains unmoved, pushing down on your stomach when your squirming turns erratic, before scooping out a glob of your slick and rubbing it along your hardened clit to make a mess out of your weeping cunt. you squeal, clawing at the sheets when his fingers pinch your clit, the muted pleasure razing into something that stings. 

and yet it is still not enough.

“simon pleasepleaseplease,” you babble, blinking bleary eyes at him and shivering when all you’re met with is the sight of your tear-stained face. 

you look like a wreck with your hair sticking to your damp face, your lips swollen from the way you have nibbled on them to bite down your sobs and whimpers whenever simon ripped his fingers out of your cunt every time he felt you tighten up. 

“no cumming without my permission, doll,” he crooned, all mean and playful. 

then he’d repeat the process – fucking his thick fingers into your pussy, pumping them with a broken tempo so that you’d never get use to the stretch, crooking them just right until your back arches off the bed with a broken scream, only for simon to push you back down again with a faux disappointed sigh.

“stay put or y’r not cumming.”

it isn’t like it mattered anyway if you had followed his commands, not when simon’s too familiar with your body; attuned to the way you react when you’re near your orgasm. and you know this is all a play to him – something that gets him off as he pulls you to the edge of your euphoria only to drag you back down from your high, crooning words lilting and fading into the background as your ringing ears struggle to grasp the sudden loss of your peaking orgasm.

he plants his hand on your belly, rubbing soothing circles as a sob racks your body. “y’ve been so good f’r me,” simon murmurs. his other hand swipes at your cunt again. “gonna reward you now, princess. gonna give you what you need.”

you sigh, a happy contented sound, and simon laughs at your reaction before lifting his hand up to cup your jaw. the action is tender and soft even when his thumb traces along your bitten lips, wiping away at the thin sheen of spit that pooled at the edge of your mouth.

you watch it all through his visor, feeling breathless at the image you make. at the image that simon reduces you to.

simon notices. of course he does.

“pretty, aren’t you, baby?” his head falls closer to you as he says this, purposefully encompassing your full visage so that your teary eyes could see your wrecked self. 

you feel faint watching as his thumb finally dips into your mouth, pushing past your plush lips until the pad of it bumps into the front of your teeth. you move to suck at his finger even when he doesn’t ask, cataloguing the way your lips wrap around his thumb or how your cheeks hollow when you begin suckling.

you look erotic. sinful. 

simon groans like he is thinking the same thing, his helmet bumping your forehead.

“christ, sweetheart. y’ve ruined me.”

you giggle softly as he nuzzles his helmet on your sweat-stained forehead and squeezes your jaw for the last time before pulling away. he leaves you there on the bed, your eyes blown wide as you watch him tug at his boxers to finally free his pretty, pretty cock.

the moan that leaves your lips is pornographic and carnal, and simon jolts, his hand coming up to fist his cock as the sound ricochets in the room. you see his chest heave and, had your mind not been reduced to a needy mush, you would have realized that he’s gripping his cock to stop himself from cumming just from the sound you made.

“spread y’r legs f’r me, baby,” he growls, his hand still gripping his cock. 

and you do as he says: your hands ball on top of your chest as you spread your legs spread apart, the soles of your feet rustling against the sheets. cool air hits your dripping cunt and you mewl, feeling and seeing how exposed you are before simon.

“so pretty,” simon groans as he shuffles close, lining his cock against your cunt. “an’ it’s all mine, yeah?”

you nod, you think. you honestly don’t know. not when your attention is rooted to simon’s visor, watching with stuttering breaths as he moves to rub his cock along your folds. the first touch makes you squeal, the rush of pleasure jolts you into closing your legs. it’s only simon’s hand pressed on the inside of your thigh that stops you from doing so, the pressure he’s putting on your leg gluing your muscle onto the bed. 

“fuck, sweetheart,” he croaks, still slicking his cock along your folds, the sounds so filthy as they filter through the air. “so fuckin’ wet f’r me.”

god, this is torturous. you need him so desperately, it hurts.

you break into sobs as you reach out to grasp at his arms, feeling untethered as your sanity slips under the fog, feeling it grow taut like a band that’s about to snap when simon’s cock rubs against your clit. he tilts his head up just enough that you know he’s watching you, his beautiful eyes roving over the devastation on your face.

knowing that he’s looking eggs you on – desperation clawing underneath your skin, needing to be itched. “inside, please! simon, please-!” you hiccup. “i wan’ feel you! i wan’-”

you scream, your words petering into a garbled wail when simon finally sinks his cock in you. your head falls back to the pillows, your eyes rolling back to your skull. but he keeps on sliding, keeps on thrusting in – his cock is so long, it feels endless. 

you’re babbling, moans slithering into a noiseless squeal when simon’s pelvis finally bumps the inside of your thighs. 

he’s in. you realize with a tremble. all of him, in you.

your ecstasy bloats, peaking, and your toes curl when it explodes, razing through your sanity until all you can feel is a buzz. you go numb, your ears ringing with a growing static and you fall lax on the bed. a marionette with strings cut.

“fuckin’ hell, princess,” simon hisses, almost like a happy purr. a muted thump somewhere beside the bed tickles your ears. “you jus’ squirted.”

what?

he laughs, the sound so giddy as it spills from his lips. lips which, you realize amidst the satiated thrums spreading throughout your body, you can see. 

oh, you think with a start. his helmet’s gone.

“si?” you murmur, voice hoarse and rugged.

“i’m here, sweetheart,” simon replies, burying his face on the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. “y’came so good f’r me. so perfect f’r me.” he presses a kiss on your skin as he says this.

time stops becoming a blur for you and it trickles back to you in bits, starting from the buzz underneath your veins and the satisfying weight buried in your cunt.

oh-

“simon, i’m sorry-”

simon kisses your lips and devours your apology, his tongue licking into your mouth, claiming with such ferocity. you moan, feeling the expanding warmth running from your throbbing lips to your fluttering cunt; not yet satiated. needing more. 

you gasp when he finally pulls back just enough that his lips hover above yours, ghosting a touch. clingy even when you are wrapped around him. 

“y’came like a good girl,” simon murmurs, his breath tickling your spit-smeared lips. “my good girl.”

you let out a happy sigh when simon draws out, the drag of his cock slow and delicious, before he’s pressing it back in, filling you up once again. you feel the wet patch on his pants and his boxers, and your cheeks burn when you catalogue it as your mess. 

but god, you want more. 

“harder, si,” you mewl, weak hands coming up to tangle in his messy hair. “i want it harder.”

simon braces his arms on either side of your head, his nose rubbing along your damp cheeks until he’s pulling back just enough that you see the way his eyes are blown wide with his lust.

“anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

 he kisses your cheek – the last of his gentleness for the night.

“anythin’.”

[chimielie]

oh my god, they were roommates

part 2 to and they were roommates. no cws, just silliness.

you're not talking to tooru.

he's not sure how you manage it so effectively. you eat all your meals in your room while he's home, except for when you manage to sneak from there to the door while he's in the bathroom. his only clue that you've gone out is that you leave your bedroom door open when you do, really hammering home how empty his life suddenly is.

"even when we're in the same room," he sighs, resting his cheek on his fist. "it's like trying to grab a fish out of the water. i turn around or blink and poof! gone!"

"your sleeve is dipping into your drink," says his date. "and i really think you need to discuss this with your roommate. at home. alone."

tooru waves goodbye forlornly as they stand up and walks out of the restaurant, leaving behind a half-eaten ball of rice and a broken man.

"you are like a sad, sad," akaashi says, pausing to really linger on the word sad, "wet cat. please stop bringing your dates here to mope about—to them. you are forming bad associations between our business and your terrible romantic etiquette."

akaashi keiji is a mangaka now, or an editor for one, anyway; he works at onigiri miya (tokyo location) on the side because it's the only way he routinely leaves the house; tooru brings his dating drama here to brighten up what must surely be a terribly boring life.

"what would you do without me, akaashi-kun," tooru stretches his arms high with a languid sigh that makes akaashi worry that he has comprehended none of his words. "wouldn't you be so miserable if you didn't have me to bring romance and excitement to your life?"

"i have a boyfriend of several years," akaashi says, which is rude to remind tooru of while he's in such a vulnerable state. "i have plenty of excitement with him in my life."

"inconsiderate!" tooru snorts. "please break up with him to show me solidarity."

"i will not be doing that." akaashi picks up the nameless and now-vanished date's plate and takes a bite out of the leftover food.

"understandable," tooru nods, "that's very reasonable. i just don't know what to do, or how to fix it, or what i did wrong."

"you come in here every other night to whine about what you did wrong."

"do not."

"do too," akaashi sticks out his tongue at him. there's a grain of rice stuck to his lip. "you spent several months going out on dates trying to make your friend-turned roommate jealous—during which, I'll note, you basically exclusively talked about the person you were and continue to be obsessed with—then initiated... romantic physical contact, then ran away. because you have the attachment style of a stray cat."

"ah, akaashi-kun," tooru says. "are you saying i get around?"

"i am saying you are lurking outside the window and begging for attention and then biting the hand that feeds you when you get it.”

“oh.” tooru is quiet for a moment. “can i get the check?”

“it’s on the house if you’ll just go home and talk to your roommate and never come back here with another date.” akaashi says, finishing off the onigiri.

“deal.”

your room is empty, your bedroom door ajar when he comes home. mournfully, tooru sits on the bed, reminiscing over the hours he'd spent gossiping with you here.

he'll just wait for you to get back. when he used to take you dancing—with your other friends, but you'd wind your arms around his neck and he'd run light hands over your waist, your hips, and you would look at him like no one else even existed—you always wanted to leave before midnight. it's ten-forty-nine now, according to his watch, so he's sure you'll be back before long.

you get home at two-oh-four. you had never seen the point in staying out longer when going home and chatting over a bowl of cheesy noodles with tooru was so much more appealing—you didn't want to dance with anyone else anyway. now, though, you don't want to be home, and you have something to prove. to who, you're not sure, but you find yourself staying out later and later.

even though you always return home alone. you'd thought about really upping the ante, about moving on as abruptly as possible, but you couldn't. it felt like going too far in this petty revenge game. after all, you still—

you stop short, dropping your shoes on the floor. the devil is in your bed, lying on his side, knees tucked to his chest to fit his absurdly long frame. his breaths are even and deep, his face peaceful.

"oh, tooru," you sigh, and climb over him to tuck yourself against his warm side.

you blink your eyes open slowly, sleep still gleaming in the corners of your vision. there's a weight on your hip and something that smells really, really good surrounding you, nearly lulling you back to sleep.

"oh, please don't," says a voice you haven't heard in days. "my arm's circulation has been completely cut off. i may never serve again."

you jolt away from the soft source of warmth, which you realize belatedly is oikawa's chest.

"what happened?" you say, swiping at your face with the back of your hand.

he looks frustratingly perfect as always, brown hair rumpled, eyes soft like you aren't in the biggest spat of your friendship.

"i was waiting for you," he admits, leaning on his side and casting his eyes down, his lashes shadowing his high cheekbones. "because i wanted to apologize, to be clear. i must have fallen asleep, and then i woke up, and it was like—"

"yes," you cough. "i see. um."

"i'm sorry," he says. "hey, look at me. i'm really sorry."

"for what, oikawa?" you laugh nervously.

"for being stupid," he rolls one shoulder in a shrugging motion. "for trying to make you jealous and instead just being, like, a complete fucking clown during all of it."

"make me jealous?" you say, blinking at him.

"please don't look at me like that," he says, scrubbing over his face with the hand that's not propping up his head. "it-you make me nervous."

"we've been friends for years," you say, still apparently lost. "how can i make you nervous?"

"you always will," he laughs, but it's strained. "look—i like you. probably more, but i'm trying not to scare you—any more than i already have, i mean. i'm not sorry for kissing you, is what i mean. i should just—i should probably go."

"wait," you say firmly before he can untangle himself from your sheets. putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing yourself up to meet his lips, which are soft and dry and parted slightly with surprise.

the kiss is warm and lingers, even after you pull away. tooru stares at you with dazed eyes that make you shy, dropping your own. his voice is quiet but hopeful, contrasting his words in tone when he speaks.

"what the fuck?"

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | k. seungmin <3

a/n: these days i am QUITE the seungmin simp & it shows :,-) i had a lot of fun writing a very classic kpop fic meet-cute with this one ! if you need me, i'll be watching seungmin compilations <333 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.9k | warnings: none really! | pairing: soulmate!seungmin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

on your 18th birthday, you receive a stack of sticky notes on which you can write to your soulmate. there is one note for every day leading up to when you meet.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you settled into your desk chair, eager to see what anecdote seungmin has chosen for you today. it was always a thrill to get a peek into his daily life, and it was especially entertaining when he removed context from the situation to make you laugh. over the years, he developed a knack for telling stories just the way you liked them. 

we went shopping today, in that area that always smells like ice cream cone batter. i bought a cool phone case. you better compliment me on it when we meet. i know it’s only ten days away, but i encourage you to put a reminder on your calendar, so you don’t forget to appreciate my taste in accessories. 

-yours, seungmin 

you scoffed. he was always extra sassy when he was excited about something. you tapped your pen against your desk, devising the perfect reply to seungmin’s daily update.

i promise i’ll tell you the phone case is cool, if and only if it actually is. we must be on the same wavelength because i went shopping today too (it didn’t smell like ice cream cone batter where i was though). i picked out new clothes for the day we meet, so you better compliment me on it as soon as you see me. should we make a joint calendar event since you’re quite forgetful?

-yours, y/n

not even 30 seconds passed when you saw seungmin’s handwriting appear near the bottom of the sticky note. you smiled, feeling his playful energy infect you.

like a wise person said, i’ll tell you the outfit is cool, if and only if it actually is. i’d love to make a joint calendar event, but we can’t share contact information yet, remember? i’ll have to trust you won’t forget the phone case…i guess that’s more important than remembering a basic rule about soulmates, so i’ll have faith in you :-) 

-yours, seungmin

with another roll of your eyes, you wrote your last message to seungmin for the night.

you test my patience, kim seungmin. get some rest now. i know you’re working hard on your comeback, so i’ll be rooting for you! 

-yours, y/n

you smiled at the tiny heart seungmin drew in the bottom corner of the page before you peeled the sticky note off the stack. electricity ran through you every time you noticed how much it shrank. soon, very soon, you would be teased by seungmin in person. you hoped that you’d deliver the perfect eye roll in response to his snarky comments, as a way to show him you truly loved him.

staring at the note, seungmin laughed at his desk, right when felix walked by.

“what’d y/n say?”

“none of your business.”

despite the nature of the retort, seungmin’s tone was lighthearted. felix laughed and left seungmin alone to place the completed sticky note in his not-so-secret box, where he kept every word you’ve ever exchanged safe from the rest of the world.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hi soulmate~ let’s see if our tastes match. tell me your ideal meet-cute.

-yours, seungmin

you felt a blush on your skin at seungmin’s cute tone. you imagined he was feeling particularly sweet as your meeting was only three days away. you took your time mentally ranking the best meet-cutes you’d witnessed in books, movies, tv, and real life.

hi seungmin~ there are a lot of good ones, but i have to stick with the classic: locking eyes across a crowded room. what’s yours?

-yours, y/n

you stared at the note, eager to see whether seungmin had a romantic side after all. you laughed in disbelief when you read his answer.

wow, no “hi soulmate~”? rude :-( my favorite trope is spilling coffee on someone. i’d enjoy that as long as i’m not the one getting spilled on. let’s hope your outfit isn’t too cool!

-yours, seungmin

you imagined seungmin was laughing at his own joke, which balanced out his vague threat to spill coffee on you.

you’re such a menace :-( i’m about to revoke “soulmate” from your nicknames, as a matter of principle. 

-yours, y/n

seungmin, despite himself, blushed at the thought of you having different nicknames picked out for him. his heart fluttered, feeling extra sweet because of you.

i’m YOUR menace. see you soon! i’ll be the handsome man holding two coffees <3

-yours, seungmin 

you sighed, knowing there was a real chance he’d carry two coffees around that whole day. if there was one thing about seungmin, he’d commit to the bit. 

i’ll run away from you, and i hope you spill one of the coffees on yourself while you chase me. at least we’ll be matching <3

-yours, y/n

from miles away, you and seungmin laughed at the same time. similarly, you both played out different meet-cute scenarios for the rest of the night. seungmin would never admit this to you, but he’d love to see the excited look on your face if your chosen meet-cute was what fate had in store.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

though you returned home later than usual, you were still surprised to see the sticky note halfway filled up by the time you sat at your desk. 

my schedules start before sunrise tomorrow, so i have to go to bed early, like a grandpa. chan says this is a good time to go to bed…what else would we expect though? anyways, i’m sorry i won’t get to write back tonight. tell me about your day! i’ll read it as soon as i wake up. i promise. :-)

sleep well, and i’ll see you tomorrow~

-yours, seungmin

your heart sank a little at the fact you wouldn’t be able to interact directly with seungmin the night before the long-awaited day. however, the butterflies in your stomach reminded you that there was plenty to be excited about.

hi soulmate~ i’m jealous you’re sleeping so early. i was out late because i had to get everything ready before attending the live show recording tomorrow (i still can’t believe i won that ticket lottery!). i’m worried i won’t be able to sleep well from the excitement. 

don’t forget about my outfit! just look for the best-dressed person and you’ll find me :-)

i’ll be sending you the strength to get through your schedules! i can’t wait to see you tomorrow~

-yours, y/n

you smiled to yourself, feeling in your heart that seungmin would start his day off happy, as you finally gave him the greeting he’d been waiting for.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 

from the second he read your note, seungmin couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. everyone noticed the way he beamed, so it didn’t take long for them to put together that he’d be meeting you today. his members were painfully obvious about trying to catch a glimpse of you wherever they went. seungmin was in such a good mood that he didn’t even tease them that much. 

realizing that the live show recording was almost definitely where you’d meet, seungmin noticed that his palms were sweatier than normal. he shook them out, taking deep breaths to calm his heart rate. this may not have been the first stage for their new song, but it was the first stage you’d be at, so the stakes were high. 

despite the nerves from the night before, you were happily enjoying yourself at the show. of course, every performance was incredible, and the crowd was energetic. by the time there was only one act left, you felt your body start to grow tired. an adrenaline rush hit you full force, however, when you saw the name “stray kids” light up the stage.

jaw dropped, you were silent while the rest of the crowd screamed. your eyes raced to find seungmin. he was on the opposite end of the stage, giving you at least a chance at composing yourself before he saw your face. the music started, and you joined the crowd’s cheers. seungmin’s stage presence and vocals in person were breathtaking, and you felt a swell of pride knowing that your soulmate was so talented.

as though he could sense you were thinking of him, seungmin turned his head to the area where you stood. the second you locked eyes, seungmin grinned like an excited puppy. he waved to you, feeling giddy enough to make a heart with his hands. you matched his energy, smiling widely and bouncing from the magic of it all. there he was, just across the room, saying “hi” to you and only you.

per the instructions seungmin mouthed from the stage, you waited in your seat for a bit until a staff member brought you backstage. despite the recording being done, the halls were crowded with bustling employees and idols alike. all of the noise was drowned out by someone calling your name.

“hey y/n! i like your outfit!”

you turned around, seeing seungmin waving again. he beamed, and you rushed over to him. 

“you remembered!”

seungmin laughed at your excitement, “i did forget my coffee though. it looks like your meet-cute won in the end.”

his eyes twinkled as he looked at you. rather than feeling nervous, you two chattered endlessly. you giggled at the way seungmin blushed when you complimented his performance. in turn, seungmin giggled at the way you blushed when he called you pretty. being able to have a conversation that exceeded the character limit of a sticky note left both of you with the zoomies, much to the entertainment of seungmin’s eavesdropping members. 

“seungmin!” hyunjin yelled from a suspiciously nearby spot, “we have to leave soon!” hyunjin waved at you, “hi y/n!”

you waved back, and seungmin told you to ignore hyunjin, which made you laugh. as you exchanged contact information, you kept your promise and examined seungmin’s phone case.

“i like your phone case, seungmin! it matches your style perfectly,” you pointed at the object in his hand.

“thank you!” seungmin grinned for the umpteenth time that day, proudly holding the phone out for you to see, “this is the best part, if you ask me.”

you were surprised to see a sticky note in the back of his phone case. you leaned closer to examine it, and you felt a wave of fondness wash over you. in his hand, seungmin held one of your earliest sticky notes. on it, you had drawn a picture of what you thought seungmin looked like, purely based on how he wrote. you were way off, which you learned once you saw a picture of him online. it did accurately capture seungmin’s personality, though, so seungmin was quite proud of your artistry. 

“it’s a one-of-a-kind drawing, so i wanted to show it off.”

seungmin’s tone was teasing, but you could feel the compliment, “you’re so sweet, seungmin! maybe i should have a matching one?”

he nodded, “i better see the portrait i drew of you in your phone case next time i see you.”

you laughed, “understood! i feel chan staring at us, so you should get going. call me when you get home?”

“of course!” seungmin smiled, “promise me one more thing?”

“hmm,” you feigned deep thought, “it depends on what it is.”

“next time you come to watch us perform, sit by my side of the stage.”

“only if i can see lee know too.”

seungmin glared at you momentarily, breaking into a laugh because he was so endeared by the pout you gave in response. after you said your goodbyes, you watched seungmin bound down the hall to meet his members. before he went around the corner, he turned to wave to you again, mouthing goodbye, soulmate!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

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

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[hanasnx]

NO KISS SEX — satoru gojo.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: bratty fem reader | dom satoru | established relationship | explicit sexual content | cock warming | fluffy | size difference | no kiss sex.

“Sato, please?” you beg, pouting your bottom lip so enticingly SATORU GOJO nearly breaks his streak just to lick at it out of familiarity.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” he anecdotes amusedly, tilting his head with that wolfish grin. “You said you wanted to try it, and now you don’t wanna commit.”

“I change my mind!” you insist, bobbing your body in place to emphasize your frustration, his cock still lodged comfortably up in your guts in a mating press. “It’s lonely.”

He gives a few swings of his hips, and your lashes flutter in turn. “‘Lonely?’” he parrots in feigned disbelief. “You wan’a kiss that bad?”

Eagerly, you nod, under the impression he’s about to give in and you raise your head to meet his with an innocent smile. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, honest.” You eye up his lips, just out of your reach.

“Ah, ah,” he chides, arching away. “I distinctly remember,” he states matter-of-factly as he picks himself up using your knees, pressing them to the pillow as your head is forced to lay back down and you peep and grit your teeth when the dick soaking in your hole brushes your spongy spot. It twitches, but he keeps it sheathed. He alters his expression to exhibit what he sees when he looked at you earlier, upturned brows, wide-o-shaped mouth, and heightens his voice to an embarrassing high pitch that grates the ears, “‘Goji, I want to try no-kiss-sex, please? Please? Can we-can we-can we?’” he mimics you unflatteringly, and you reach up to yank him back down to you. “You only call me ‘Goji’ when you want something, just like you call me ‘Sato’ when you’re trying to butter me up.”

You jerk your head away in a mock attempt at bratting, frowning your brows as he snickers through his nose as you, readjusting so he pulls out a few inches just to push back in. As if he’s testing the waters with his hips, watching your minute reactions written all over your pitiful little face. You pant through your mouth, so he keeps going, slowly sinking in and out.

“If you get so lonely, why’d you suggest it?” he questions, soothing you out of your difficult mindset and your want to be uncooperative with the splendid ministrations of his cock licking your insides.

“I dunno, I saw it on a show or something! I wanted to see if it would make me want it more.” you inform him with a fair amount of attitude, and toy with his hair at the nape of his neck. That pout resurfaces, and you must know you’re making your pillowy lips look so irresistible that Satoru bites his own hard. He has to remind himself he’s proving a point. Even folded in half you’ve got some kind of power over him.

“Does it?” he asks, more winded than before as your hole loosens the slightest, letting him pull out more. You question him with an idle hum, brain fuzzy from the sensations pulsing from your core. “Does it make you want it more?”

“Yes!” you cry, offended he’d ask such a thing. “Obviously!”

That wolfish grin stretches back onto his mouth as he dips down, and a grateful thrill blooms in your chest at the notion he’s going to do it this time! You offer yourself to him, facing him to reach for him, but as soon as you get close he rears his head. Your lips narrowly miss each other. Your bodies bob as he moves in you, a steady pace of pulling completely out to ease in until he bottoms out. He’ll do all that, exhibiting a strong sense of control over his body, but he won’t give you a kiss. Instead, he does the same thing as before, ducking so you’ll gain a false sense of security, reach for him again. He teases you, keeping his lips just out of your area of influence. “Stop that!” you whine, your brows pinching together from the pleasure he’s giving you between your legs.

“Can’t help it, pretty, you make it so easy.” he taunts, “You keep falling for it.” As soon as he’s said it, he stoops and lingers, letting your cock-drunkened brain work through the thought process, lifting yourself again out of habit and trust to go for a kiss. Once more he corrals it from you, but he laughs this time. A jeer that burns your cheeks hot as you glare at him. “You keep falling for it!”

“Satoru!”

“I see the appeal now.” he lowers his voice, the grain of it traveling down your spine straight to your core, taking his cock at gradually hastened pace. “No-kiss-sex, huh? This shit was a good idea, baby.”

[sweet1delusi0ns]

Naruto boys calling you ma’am ──☆*:・ﾟ

!Slightly suggestive!

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s sassy so ofc he’s gunna piss you off by calling you “ma’am” making you feel old. Normally when you scold him over stupid things he refers to you as that-

“Did you think about how dangerous that is?!” “No ma’am!” “use your little head before doing something dumb!” “Yes ma’am!” “ok stop with the ma’am I feel like a teacher scolding a bad student” “what you gunna smack me with a ruler?” Rolls eyes “I will if you don’t keep quiet!” “Whatever you say! Ma’am~” “I’ll be back with the ruler.” “WHAT?!”

Sasuke🗡️-*

He uses it nonchalantly or when he’s being goofy. Like everytime he leaves home you always say “be safe baby” and he always responds with “yes ma’am.” In a serious tone. He knows you worry that one day he may not come back so he must reassure you!

“Be safe Sasuke. I expect you home by 10!” “Yes ma’am, i will I promise. I must go now! I’ll see you at dinner darling” you whisper “it’s cute when you call me that” right before he closes the door (he heard it anyways)

Itachi🥀-*

He is such a good boyfriend honestly. He’s the kind of guy to do little tasks for you when you ask. So normally when your to lazy all you gotta do is ask him to do it instead!

“Tachi, can you please get me some more water?” “Yes ma’am!!!” Very rare times you ask him to do something without him responding with a “yes ma’am~”

Kakashi🍃-*

His mouth gets himself in trouble, sometimes he says things that could be viewed a different way without realizing it. For example he once said you remind him of a frog. I don’t know how it’s a compliment but he meant it as one…which obviously you didn’t know

“ARE YOU CALLING ME AN UGLY FROG KASHI?!” “N-no ma’am! That’s not what I mea-” “NO I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANNNN! YOU THINK IM SLIMEY TOAD” you start smiling once you realize how silly this really is “no I swear I meant it in a nice way!!!” “WELL-…did you call me ma’am?” “Uhm…depends do you not like it” you chuckle “no I don’t mind, it’s cute.” He lets out a sigh of relief “well I guess I’ll call you that more often?~”

Kiba🐺-*

Like kakashi his mouth gets him in trouble, exept Kiba does it on purpose to try and get a rise out of you he likes it when your rough ofc that means he just teases as much as possible, but then he tries acting all innocent

He’s on his knees directly infront of your legs waiting for you to look at him “I know what your doing Kiba. It’s not gunna work” he flashes the puppy eyes “well I’m not doing anything y/n🥺” “so your serious not trying to get a rise out of me?” “Noooo ma’am” you grab his face with your hand rather aggressively“is this want you want puppy?” A very quiet “Yes” could be heard from him

Shikamaru🀄️-*

He only calls you ma’am when you nag him about doing chores or helping you cook, he knows he can’t say no but “maam” is his only way of back talk

“Hey Shika be a dear and take out the trash” “ahhh yes anything for you ma’am.” He responded in the most sarcastic voice he could make “watch that tone babe!” “Yeah yeah whatever, such a pain” “I’ll show you pain.” A water bottle was soon thrown directly at his head LOL

Shino🪲-*

Call me weird but I feel like if he was going to call you something like that he would call you mistress instead but that’s for another time! When he does call you ma’am it’s mostly because he admires your leadership. You guys would be testing battle strategy and when you command him into a certain position you could here his cheerful “yes ma’am” while he runs into position

Neji🎋-*

He only uses it to get out of trouble actually. When he does something he isn’t supposed to he tries lying abt what he did

“Neji. Were you in my drawers?” “What!!! No ma’am that is absurd I would never dig through your shirt drawer!” You look at him with a blank stare “I never said it was my shirt drawer. Time to fess up pretty.” He sighs loudly. “Fine yes. But only because I missed your scent!!!” “Awwwww…kinda creepy but cute!!”

Lee🥋-*

Your like his own personal Inspirator. You give him pep talk like every single day and being the energy ball he is he is so hyped to hear about it

“Are you gunna train hard today?” “Yes ma’am!” “And you going to be proud of yourself no matter what?!” “Yes ma’am!!!!!” “Are you not gunna over work yourself for me?” “YES MA’AM!!!!”

Choji🍥-*

Again he takes your authority very seriously! So ma’am is fitting when your taking charge of every day things. Even if your not trying to be all serious he will always respect your power but he also looks to you for guidance

“Hey handsome you said you needed me?” “Yes y/n-chan. I figured you could help me with this?” You sigh “the only way I’ll be of help is if you do what I tell you too, can you…do that?” “Yes ma’am! I’m a very good listener!” You giggle “cute now let’s get started”

Gaara⏳-*

He has mommy issues and your strong and independent ofc he’s gunna call you names like that and ask for you to take care of him?! You love babying him anyways but it’s always so cute when he’s had a rough day mentally wise and the first thing he does is go to you

“Y/n, may we please have some alone time…” he asked shyly “of course rose, bad mental day?” You open your arms to him “yes ma’am. It was hard today.” He comments before hopping in your arms waiting for you to make everything better

Kankuro🪆-*

He calls you ma’am when your all mad at him for being bratty “but I was just checking out your new pants!” “You expect me to believe that you were just looking at my pants and not my ass?” “Yes ma’am” kinda like Kiba he wants you to be rough with him ok. He’s just trying to tease so you do something about it which you don’t because your strong, and it’s funner to just calling him a brat and watching him squirm at the insults



[nouearth]

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[lxclerc]

𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐟 | 𝐚𝐥𝟏𝟐

summary… arthur is dating someone and his fans don’t like it request… yes but it’s for the og arthur girlie faceclaim… xowie jones pairing… arthur leclerc x reader

note… @coffeehurricanes have been begging me to make something for arthur since forever and i finally caved

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and others

yourusername my “that’s her” pictures but it’s the pics my bf showed his mum

view all comments…

user1 girlie this isn’t something to be proud of

user2 she’s so cool and different and quirky and not like other girls !!!!!!!!!! do you want a cookie or sumthing?

lorenzotl can confirm! 😂

⤷ yourusername you loved me the moment you saw me, admit it

⤷ lorenzotl i admit it!

charles_leclerc maman nearly had a heart attack!!

⤷ yourusername then i became her fav 🤭

⤷ user7 pascale prolly can’t stand this bitch

user3 nah bc what the hell does she have on the leclerc brothers bc no way they genuinely like her dating arthur

arthur_leclerc and i wouldn’t have it any other way ❤️

⤷ yourusername idiot

⤷ arthur_leclerc *your* idiot

⤷ user4 arthur was being sweet and this bitch just insults him for no reason

⤷ user5 arthur blink twice if you’re being held captive

user6 so many jealous and mad bitches in this comment section. not so gentle reminder for yall that he’ll never date you in any universe lol ♡ liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 203 others

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pascale_leclerc and others

arthur_leclerc my beautiful, beautiful girl ❤️

view all comments…

user1 is the beautiful beautiful girl in the room with us?

user2 arthur wear red next weekend if she’s holding a gun to your head

user3 i could be a better girlfriend than her

yourusername i’ll always save my last chicken nuggy for you, mi amore

⤷ arthur_leclerc you must really love me 😌

⤷ yourusername don’t push it

⤷ user4 she just has to ruin every sweet moment

charles_leclerc really mate?

⤷ yourusername if you’re jealous, close your eyes

⤷ user8 girl what does charles have to be jealous about

user5 why do we even hate her? like has she done anything worth hating her for? or is it just bc she looks a little different than what’s considered as conventional and happened to be dating your white boy of the month?

⤷ user6 i think she’s really a bad influence on arthur and she publicly argues with a lot of people on twitter

⤷ user5 doesn’t she only argue with people who say shit abt arthur? i mean why isn’t she not allowed to defend her bf? also where’s your proof abt her being a bad influence on arthur

⤷ user7 bitches real quiet cause they’ve got nothing to use

arthur_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl, and others

arthur_leclerc i’ve let this go on long enough and now she’s gotten hurt. i have no words to express how disappointed i am of everyone who has ever said anything against y/n for no reason other than she is with me. she has done nothing to deserve the bullying she gets and yet she does nothing to any of you.

any hate i see about her will be automatically blocked. i would rather have no fans at all than have fans who can’t respect the woman i intend to spend my life with.

and if anyone do anything to her physically, i will retaliate worse than i did today. this is a warning.

and to @yourusername i’ve failed you, baby. i sat back and watch everyone bully you telling you to just ignore it all and you didn’t deserve that. i will spend the rest of my life making up to you.

view all comments…

charles_leclerc i am so proud of you for taking a stand, brother. y/n does not deserve any of this

lorenzotl fully behind the two of you 🤍

user1 arthur has had enough on all of your bullshits and it’s time yall knew it

user2 he let yall know he’s not afraid to throw hands

user3 where yall loud mouthed ass bitches now????

yourusername i love you more than words

⤷ arthur_leclerc i will love you better now, baby

user4 it’s always seemed so fucking stupid how much hates she gets for literally no reason

[vbecker10]

As Long as You Love Me

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You've been Loki's only friend since he joined the Avengers and you are trying to hide your growing crush on him since you doubt he feels the same. One night, Loki accidentally catches you singing in the kitchen when you think you are alone and you let it slip that the song reminds you of him.

Warnings: Trying to go for fluff only but there is a little bit of Loki feeling like no one will love him after what happened with Odin, Laufey and Thanos

A/N: Do not judge me for this song choice... because I don't care lol. Every once in a while I still listen to the Backstreet Boys even though in my mid-30s. I thought the song just fit really well with Loki so here we are. Also, I needed something short and fluffy to get me out of my writing slump. Hope you all enjoy this 💚

Thanks @animnerd for letting my bounce this is off of you 💚

"Popcorn time," you say to yourself as you close the microwave in the common kitchen and push the popcorn button. The bag starts to rotate and you move to lean your back against the island as you take your phone out of your pocket.

"Nope, nope, nope..." you hit skip on the next three songs that shuffle through your Playlist unaware that you are no longer alone in the kitchen.

Loki walks into the room, a smile quickly spreads across his face when he sees you. "Hello Y/N," he says from a few feet behind you. His smile fades slightly when you don't respond but then he notices you're wearing your earbuds.

You hum, putting your phone down on the counter next to you as the next song starts, still not realizing that Loki is watching you. Raising the volume slightly louder, you drown out the sound of your midnight snack popping. You begin to lip sync, bopping your head with the rhythm of the song. As the song continues, you start to sing out loud without meaning to.

Every little thing that you have said and done

Feels like it's deep within me

Doesn't really matter if you're on the run

It seems like we're meant to be

I don't care who you are

Where you're from

What you did

As long as you love me

Who you are

Where you're from

Don't care what you did

As long as you-

The microwave beeps and you stop signing as you open the door and grab the bag. You turn back around and nearly drop your snack with a surprised yelp as you spot Loki standing on the other side of the island.

You take off your headphones quickly and he laughs as he apologizes, "Sorry, I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me."

"You sure you weren't waiting there just to scare the crap out of me?" you joke and pause your music.

"If I was trying to scare you, you would know." He smirks, "Would you like me to show you?"

"Definitely not, I'm good, thanks," you laugh and shake your head, opening the bag.

"Stark is more fun to scare anyway," he says as he comes to stand next to you. "I had no idea you could sing," he adds.

You feel a bit confused then you realize you must have been singing outloud. "Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh. "I'm a horrible singer. I thought I was alone or I never would have subjected you to that."

"I liked it," Loki smiles genuinely.

"Liar," you taunt him and eat a few pieces of popcorn as you lean on the counter next to him.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "You know I never lie to you."

"So you're not a liar," you admit, knowing you are in fact the only person Loki never lies to. "But that just means we need to get your ears checked."

"I've never heard that song before," he changes the topic slightly.

"It's old-ish. I used to listen to it when I was a teenager," you tell him and he nods as he takes a handful of popcorn from the bag you're holding. "Do you mind?" you joke as you pull it away from him.

"No," he laughs, eatting the pieces he stole one at a time. "So why are you listening to it again?"

Without thinking, you answer, "It reminds me of you." You immediately look down at your feet as you shift awkwardly away from Loki.

"It does?" he asks and you can hear the surprise and confusion in his voice.

"Uh..." your brain tries to come up with a response but the only thing you can think of is the truth. "Yeah," is all you offer him as an explanation.

You can feel him shifting closer to but you don't look up at him, "Why is that?"

"Don't worry about it, it's just a stupid song," you try to end the conversation. "I've got to finish my laundry."

"If I'm not allowed to lie, neither are you," he reminds you and when you look up, you can tell you aren't escaping just yet.

You bite your lip and hope half of the truth will be enough to appease the God of Lies. "Okay... but just remember you asked," you sigh and he waits patiently for your answer. "Do you remember last month when we were talking about some of the stuff that happened before you joined the Avengers?"

He nods. It was a very long, difficult conversation that neither of you had planned on having. Loki had been acting more distant than usual all week and when you finally convinced him to talk to you, he opened up about how out of place and lonely he felt on Midgard. You tried your best to reassure him that the others on the team would become more welcoming to him once they got to know him better. He agreed half heartedly and followed up his comment by telling you that he barely deserved friends, let alone a partner after all he had done. You stayed with him most of the night, listening to all the things he blamed himself for and trying to remind him that none of what happened with Thanos was his fault.

"This song came on my Playlist randomly a few days later and I was thinking about the chours," you explain. "I don't care who you are, where you're from or what you did as long as you love me. It just kinda stuck with me that that's what you need. Someone who doesn't care that you're a Frost Giant from Jotunheim and knows that you didn't attack the city because you wanted to. Someone who accepts you for who you are."

"And where would I find someone like that?" he asks. His fingers gently stroke your cheek and you look up at him. He seems almost nervous as he smiles down at you.

You force a smile back through your nerves, "I've always accepted you Loki."

"I know you have darling," he says in a soft tone. The sudden use of the pet name makes you blush and when you try to look away, his fingers hook gently under your chin. Loki's eyes lock on yours as he says, "And I love you for it."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you try to process Loki's words. "You... what?" you ask, feeling shocked and confused and sure you misheard him.

He chuckles anxiously at your response, dropping his hand from your chin as you take a small step away from him, "I hadn't planned on you telling you this way..."

You stand in complete silence for a moment, trying to force yourself to admit to Loki that you've been in love with him for months. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out and Loki's smile fades completely.

"I understand that you don't feel the same, that's why I hadn't meant to tell you. Y/N, I don't want to lose your friendship, it means too much to me-" Loki's words are cut short when you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.

In an instant, Loki kisses you back fiercely. His hands move to your lower back and he pulls your body flush to his as you drop the bag of popcorn but neither of you notice. After a few moments, you break from the kiss to catch your breath and let out a small giggle. "I love you too," you smile up at him, his hands still resting on your back.

"I was hoping that's what the kiss meant," he laughs then leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You nod then rest your head on his shoulder, one of his hands moves to play with your hair gently. "That's my new favorite song," you say before placing a kiss on his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Mine too," Loki agrees with a light laugh.

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