#want to keep going but am tired and will absolutely ruin it if i go at it tonight

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

wip

[imaginary-wanderer]

Mental health is going downhill, I'm not sure how to handle that right now... The end of the year feels more and more lonely at the days pass.

Cherish your loved ones, make sure they know they count in your life.

[h1biscusgal]

Tee hee y'all, i'm not back but i loved y'all sm so take this subliminal i took six days to perfect.

I AM NOT BACK, NO, I AM SO SORRY.

my studying session been going good AND YALLLLLLL I MISS YOU SO MUCH, I CAN'T EVEN EXPLAIN.

so, last week, when i closed tumblr, my mind was reeling from one thing it kept repeating itself:

"i wanna give smth to my people in tumblr."

why? i've seen people having problems for the void, i've seen people say they are so close but their "heartbeat" stops them, some say they sleep without knowing.

so i thought.

"mf, why not a subliminal that will fucking guarantee you to enter IN EVERRRYYYY situation?"

think you need to keep awake? this sub

think you need to sleep to enter the void? still this sub

need to enter while using it? this sub

need to enter but can't have your phone with you during sleep? again this sub, you can listen to it during the day and try at night.

like WHATEVER the fuck you do, i have made a loophole for it, now for god's sake please be careful, it gave me such a headache making it my head is still pounding, it has PURE fucking delta waves and 5 set of repeated NON-LAYERED NOT TOO SPED UP affirmations, why?

these are the safest type of affirmations that penetrate the subconscious, i cannot express this enough please.

PLEASE BE FUCKING CAREFUL WITH IT, DON'T LOOP TOO MUCH, DELTA WAVES CAN MAKE YOU DEADASS TIRED.

now this? holy shit this? i call it my beautiful Voided Hibiscus project, and yes i love hibiscuses-

this sub???

here's the benefits:

Voided Hibiscus is a one-of-a-kind, high-power subliminal crafted to guarantee entry into the Void State — no matter your state of mind, environment, or experience level.

Whether you're lying still or fidgeting, wide awake or asleep, listening consciously or with it running in the background — the moment this subliminal activates, the Void becomes inevitable, it is fucking guaranteed and i made so sure of it by science.

During these exact 22 minutes and 22 seconds, your mind will swallow THE LITERAL definition of "master at void." The affirmations are layered with master precision — spoken, whispered, echoed, reversed — to penetrate the deepest layers of the subconscious, bypassing every mental block, doubt, or distraction. Delta isochronic tones pulse beneath the surface, gently entraining your brain to the perfect frequency of surrender, silence, and awareness, like ya'll i am NOT playing.

This is for you if:

You want to enter the Void effortlessly, with full certainty.

You want to enter during the day, or while sleeping — either way works.

You’re tired of trying methods and want results without effort.

You want a subliminal that works permanently — even after you stop listening.

Features:

Affirmations that dissolve fidgeting, overthinking, boredom, and resistance.

Built-in confidence: You will never doubt your ability to enter the void again.

Repetition formula designed to rewrite your subconscious with absolute certainty.

Works even if you accidentally fall asleep.

Activates the Void even when played silently or in the background.

After consistent listening, your command over the Void becomes instinctual.

like mf, you is the bored type? you is the annoyed impatient as fuck type? you is the type to try for 2 minutes and give up? homie this shit will throw you in the void while you move, fidget, breathe hard, feeling bored, sleep accidentally.

like what the fuck am i supposed to do next-

THIS CAN BE USED IN THREE WAYS:

awake method: lay down and have it on your head (no mf you won't sleep accidentally and ruin it bc i backed it up that you'll wake up there) and simply repeat affs for it, watch yourself enter without even knowing how the fuck you entered, i swear if you trust? you'll enter within the duration of those 22 minutes and 22 seconds, there's no "when", it's like a guarantee.

sleep method: if you is the type that yo parents let you have your phone with you? use it overnight and watch yourself wake up in the void.

thru-theday method: just listen to it during the day and do any method before sleep or just anywhere and bam.

there's no "how" here, this sub? almost made me tumble, i am not tryna brag, no seriously, but i thought to post smth that helps ppl, now let me stop yapping the fuck out and take this:

(so sorry for this quick and messy post-)

good luck loves, and send me the asks and messages coming! i'll be on here for a very few minutes and see what asks there is to answer.

EDIT: I AM SORRY WHAT THE FUCK???? LAST TIME I CHECKED I HAD 661 FOLLOWERS NOW IT'S A 1700 SMTH????? I AM SCREAMING PLEASE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH??? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT I WANNA CRY PLEASE.

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

[tsunaso]

Hi!!

Could I get Zenitsu from demon slayer that swears he straight start to fall for male reader? Like maybe reader is confident and flirty/make dirty jokes with him but he is so deep in denial that he’s always refusing and stuff until he realizes he’s daydreaming of reader and wanting to go along with it?

Not sure if I’m describing it well, and you’re welcome to take the concept and run with it however you like but I thought bi disaster would be funny and a cute bottom

“IN A FLASH”

pairing. “Straight”!Zenitsu Agatsuma x Top!male reader

synopsis. Zenitsu is 100% straight—or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself. But between your constant flirting, your cocky smirks, and the unwelcome daydreams about being pinned against a wall, he’s starting to lose his mind. And maybe, just maybe… he likes it. — 1.7k

warnings. mdni, nsfw, amab reader, dirty jokes, tiniest bit of power play, first time (with a man), overstimulation, handjob, aftercare

a/n: You did a great job describing what you wanted! Thank you for sending in my first request!

Zenitsu was not in love with you.

Nope. Not a chance. Absolutely not.

It didn’t matter that you were tall, confident, and smirked like you owned the place. It didn’t matter that you rolled up your sleeves during training, your arms a little too toned, a little too veiny for him to not notice. And it especially didn’t matter that you had a habit of leaning in too close, whispering dirty jokes just low enough for only him to hear.

Because Zenitsu?

Zenitsu liked women.

He loved women. Soft hands, long hair, big br—

"Are you blushing?"

The sound of your smooth, teasing voice snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Zenitsu immediately flinched, whipping around to see you grinning down at him, elbow resting on his shoulder.

His stomach flipped.

"No! I—Why would I—?! I AM NOT BLUSHING!"

In his panic, he stumbled backward—tripping over absolutely nothing—and fell flat onto his ass.

You burst out laughing, loud and shameless, crossing your arms as you watched him writhe in his own embarrassment.

"You totally were," you smirked. "What’s the matter? My rugged good looks getting to you?"

Zenitsu felt his entire soul leave his body.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!" He practically threw himself back to his feet, pointing at you in a wild panic. "I AM 100% STRAIGHT, OKAY?! I LOVE WOMEN! BIG BOOBS! SOFT HANDS! LONG HAIR!"

You just raised an eyebrow.

"...Alright, bro. You want a medal or something?"

Zenitsu twitched violently.

This was your fault.

For months, you'd been torturing him.

The casual hand on his shoulder. The way you'd sit too close, your thigh pressed against his. The way your gravelly, stupidly deep voice sounded whenever you murmured some filthy joke into his ear, leaving him to short-circuit in real-time.

He hated it.

He hated you.

He was definitely not going to start thinking about it later.

Absolutely not.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

It started small. Little things.

Like how your voice was kind of deep.

Not too deep—but just enough to make his stomach flip when you said his name.

Or how your hands were huge.

Not that he was paying attention to them. Not that he was imagining how they’d feel gripping his waist, holding his wrists, pinning him—

WAIT, BAD. BAD THOUGHT.

Zenitsu shook his head violently, slapping his own cheeks.

He was just tired. That was all. He needed to train more.

…But training wasn’t exactly helping.

Because lately, you were standing too damn close.

"Need help with your stance?" you murmured from behind him, your chest almost pressed to his back.

Zenitsu froze.

His entire body locked up as your hands brushed over his hips, adjusting him like it was nothing.

Like you weren’t completely ruining his life.

"I—I GOT IT!" he shrieked, flailing away from you like you were on fire. "THANKS, NO NEED TO TOUCH ME, I’M PERFECTLY FINE—!!"

You just blinked at him, amused. "Dude, chill."

Zenitsu was not chilling.

He was losing his fucking mind.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

It got worse.

He started having thoughts.

Thoughts like, "What if he pushed me against a wall?"

Or "What if he held me down?"

Or "What if I just… let him?"

"NOOOOOOO—!!!" Zenitsu bolted upright in bed, screaming into his pillow.

What the hell was that dream?!

WHY WAS IT KINDA GOOD?!!

He buried his face in his hands, rocking back and forth in despair.

"This isn’t happening," he whispered. "I love women. BIG BOOBS. SOFT HANDS. LONG HAIR."

…Your hair didn’t look like a womans, but it always looked kinda nice.

WAIT, NO, STOP—!!!

Zenitsu launched himself out of bed. He needed a distraction. Immediately.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu was determined to prove his 100% absolute heterosexuality.

Which is why, the next morning, he could be found on his knees in front of a random woman, gripping her hands, screaming into the sky.

"HELLO, BEAUTIFUL LADY! HAVE I MENTIONED I LOVE WOMEN?!"

The woman blinked. "…Are you okay?"

"I’M SO OKAY!" Zenitsu laughed, manic and desperate. "SO, SO, SO OKAY! WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL! GORGEOUS! PLEASE MARRY ME!"

You watched from a distance, arms crossed, fighting back a smirk.

"He’s been acting weird lately," Tanjiro mumbled beside you.

You chuckled. "Yeah. I noticed."

Zenitsu’s entire body stiffened.

Because your voice—your deep, amused, cocky voice—was right behind him.

He turned slowly, staring up at you with wide, panicked eyes.

"Yo," you grinned.

Zenitsu squeaked.

Just straight-up made a noise like a fucking chew toy and bolted in the opposite direction.

You laughed.

Because oh yeah.

You definitely knew what this was.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu’s back hit the wall, his breath coming in ragged, uneven pants.

His whole body was shaking, his hands gripping at nothing, his legs weak beneath him.

This was your fault.

You were too close.

You had him trapped, one hand flat against the wall beside his head, your strong, calloused fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

He tried to glare.

Tried to resist.

But his face was burning, his eyes were wide and panicked, his chest rising and falling way too fast.

This was wrong.

This was not supposed to happen.

"I—I don’t—” Zenitsu stammered, but his hips twitched forward, betraying him instantly.

You smirked. "Not like what?"

Your voice was too deep, too smooth, too much.

Zenitsu let out a sharp, shaky breath, his fingertips digging into the wall behind him.

"I—I'm not—"

He cut himself off, biting his lip hard, his eyes squeezing shut.

Because if he looked at you any longer, he was going to break.

And then—

You grabbed his chin, tilted his face up, and kissed him.

Zenitsu shattered.

A sharp, wrecked little noise escaped him, somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, his body going stiff—then melting completely.

His hands shot up to grip your shirt, his fingers fisting the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He didn’t pull away.

He couldn’t.

His whole body was burning, his mind spinning, his lips parting helplessly as you deepened the kiss, teasing, taking your time breaking him apart.

Zenitsu’s legs gave out.

You caught him instantly, one strong arm wrapping around his waist, keeping him pinned against you.

He hated how good it felt.

He hated how easily you overpowered him.

He hated that his dick was aching, twitching, throbbing, already soaked with precum—

But most of all?

He hated how much he loved it.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu didn’t remember how you got him to bed.

All he knew was that he was on his back, his clothes half-off, his skin burning, and your hands were on him.

Too much.

Too good.

Too overwhelming.

His breath was shaky, his legs spread open beneath you, his whole body trembling like a leaf. He should’ve been embarrassed—should’ve pushed you away, should’ve pretended he didn’t want this.

But when you dragged your palm up his inner thigh, tracing over sensitive, untouched skin, his whole body jerked violently, a shocked little whimper spilling from his lips.

His hands shot up to cover his mouth, his fingers pressing against his own lips as if that could stop the noises from escaping.

You smirked.

“Oh? You like that?”

Zenitsu furiously shook his head, eyes blown wide, face burning.

"NO—"

You hummed, dragging your fingers up his trembling stomach, stopping just at the waistband of his underwear.

"You sure?"

Zenitsu bit his lip hard, his whole body twitching in anticipation.

He could feel himself leaking, soaking the fabric, his thighs clenched but trembling, struggling to stay still.

He was too sensitive.

Too needy.

And when you finally hooked your fingers into his waistband and tugged his underwear down—

Zenitsu gasped, his breath catching, his dick twitching against his stomach.

Fuck.

He looked away immediately, his chest rising and falling way too fast.

He couldn’t do this.

He wasn’t supposed to like this.

Then your fingers wrapped around him, slow, teasing, barely applying any pressure.

And Zenitsu cried out.

A sharp, wrecked moan slipped past his lips, his hips jerking forward before he could stop himself.

"S-Shit—"

You chuckled. "You're shaking."

"Sh-Shut up," he whined, his voice cracking, his fingers digging into the sheets.

He was burning up.

He felt too hot, too exposed, too weak.

But it felt good.

Way too fucking good.

Your grip tightened just slightly, your thumb swiping over his leaking tip, and Zenitsu’s whole body twitched.

His breath hitched, a choked moan spilling out.

"I-I—oh fuck—"

You smirked. "Already close?"

"NO—" Zenitsu’s voice cracked, his cheeks burning.

He was not going to cum just from this.

He was not going to embarrass himself like that.

He was not going to—

You leaned down, dragged your tongue over his tip, and Zenitsu screamed.

His fingers fisted the sheets, his whole body seizing up, his dick twitching violently.

And then—

He broke.

"OH—OH FUCK—"

His back arched sharply, his hips bucking up, his breath stuttering, and then he let out a wrecked little sob, cumming way too fast, way too hard.

His chest heaved, his legs shaking, his body completely wrecked beneath you.

You pulled back slightly, grinning down at him.

"That fast?" your voice was low, amused, teasing. "Thought you had more stamina, Thunder Boy."

Zenitsu whined into his hands, his whole body trembling, his mind completely blank.

He should’ve been mortified.

But then—

Your hand wrapped around him again.

And Zenitsu twitched violently.

"H-Hah—w-wait, I just—"

Your grip tightened slightly, stroking him slow, teasing, letting him feel the overstimulation creep in.

Zenitsu gasped, his hips jerking forward weakly, his thighs trembling.

"You're still hard," you murmured, voice silky smooth. "Guess that wasn't enough for you, huh?"

Zenitsu let out a broken little noise, his nails digging into your arms.

He couldn’t handle this.

He was too sensitive.

Too fucking weak.

"B-Be gentle," he whispered, his voice tiny.

You smirked, kissing his heated skin.

"No."

Then you kept going.

And Zenitsu?

Zenitsu didn’t stand a chance.

　　　　　　　　　　─────・୨ ✦ ୧・─────

Zenitsu refused to let go of you.

His arms were wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your chest, his breath still shaky.

You smirked, running your fingers through his messy hair.

"You okay?"

Zenitsu huffed weakly, his fingers tightening their grip on you.

"I still like girls," he mumbled into your skin. "I just… really like you too."

You chuckled. "Oh yeah?"

Zenitsu whined. "Don’t make me say it again—!"

You grinned. "So you liked it?"

Zenitsu froze.

Then, with a mortified little whimper, he hid his face in your chest.

"D-Don’t say it out loud, idiot!"

You laughed, holding him tighter.

[maskedbyghost]

You ask, I deliver:

The possessive reader AU, I know neither of them can stand the thought of their partner going to the dentist. Laying back, letting someone else know the interior of that mouth, fingers sliding over soft tissue and mapping out the points of those teeth? Possibly drawing blood that should rightfully be theirs? Someone sedate these two like they’re aggressive cats coming in for a cleaning at the vet.

shoutout to this absolute legend who sent me the idea because you unlocked something unholy in me. READ PART 1 HERE cw: smut, possessive/obsessive behavior, semi-public sex (in a car), unprotected sex..

You drive him to the appointment because he hates doing it alone. Still, honestly, the entire time you’re behind the wheel, you’re gripping it hard enough that you’re surprised it doesn’t just snap in half, because the only thing going through your head is the mental image of some stranger putting their hands in Simon’s mouth, tilting his head back, touching him in places that should be yours, places only you should ever be allowed to know, and the tiny noises he makes when he’s uncomfortable.

You swear to god if you think about it one second longer, you might actually commit a felony.

Simon looks over at you once when you stop at a red light, raises an eyebrow under his cap, and says, “You gonna calm down, sweetheart, or am I gonna have to sedate you this time?”

And you smile at him, all bright and sunny like the most normal girlfriend ever, except you know it’s not right, you can feel it pulling at your mouth wrong, too many teeth showing, a smile you have to force out of yourself before you start growling or crying or both.

Simon just shakes his head a little and mutters, “Terrifying,” under his breath like he thinks you can’t hear him.

At the office, you sit together in those shitty chairs, pretending you’re normal people, and you’re almost holding it together until the door opens and of course it’s a young woman, pretty, smiling, fresh little uniform and shiny name tag and all, and your stomach twists itself into a thousand angry knots because now you’re not just imagining some faceless stranger, you’re staring at the exact woman who’s about to put her hands in Simon’s mouth, who’s about to know the little sounds he makes when he flinches, who's gonna touch him, smell him, see him with his mask off, and you grip the chair so hard you think it might crack.

“Simon Riley?” she calls, all sweet and professional, and Simon stands up, but before he can even move, you grab his wrist like you’re going to drag him back down into the chair and refuse to let him go, and he just gives you this look, this calm, amused, patient look that makes you want to bite him right there in the waiting room.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, like he knows you’re two seconds from throwing yourself at the poor woman and clawing her eyes out, and he squeezes your hand once before he goes, and that’s the only thing that keeps you in your seat.

You sit there staring at the closed door, thinking about all the ways you could ruin this woman’s life if she smiles too much or laughs at one of his stupid little jokes or leans too close or touches him too long, because no one should get to touch him but you, no one should get to see how good he is when he’s soft and quiet and letting someone take care of him, and it’s yours, it’s all supposed to be yours, and god, you’re so far gone you don’t even want to be normal about it anymore.

By the time he comes back out, you’re already halfway to throwing a fit, but he just looks tired and a little dazed from the fluoride, and he’s rubbing his jaw like it’s sore, and that’s all it takes for the switch to flip in your brain, from violent to protective in half a second.

You drag him out into the parking lot without a word, shoving him into the passenger seat and climbing over him before he can even say anything, straddling his lap with your knees pressed into the seat on either side of his hips, grabbing his face in both hands like you’re checking him over for damage even though what you really want is to mark him, make him messy, make him smell like you so no one else ever gets any stupid ideas again.

“She touched you,” you whisper, half accusation, half devastation, pressing your forehead to his while breathing him in so hard it feels like you’re trying to pull the air out of his lungs.

“She wore gloves,” he says, voice low and careful like he’s talking to a crazy person, which, fair, because you are, and it’s not even enough, it’s not even close to enough, because he still let her, still let someone else close, still trusted someone else to take care of him when that’s your job.

You kiss him messy and hard, sliding your hands into his hair, tugging at it just to feel him grunt against your mouth, and then you’re rocking your hips against him, grinding down until you feel him start to stiffen underneath you, until you know he can’t even think straight anymore, and you pull back just enough to pant into his mouth, “Mine. All mine. No one else touches you. No one else gets to even look at you like that.”

Simon’s hands dig into your waist, trying to slow you down, trying to catch his breath, but you’re not having it.

You’re already unbuttoning his jeans with shaky hands, already sinking down onto him with a broken little gasp because you need it, need him inside you, need to erase the memory of someone else touching him, need to make him so messy and ruined that no one else would ever dare think he belonged to anyone but you.

You ride him fast and desperate, muttering broken things against his skin, promises and threats and prayers all tangled together — "you're mine, mine, only mine, gonna mark you up so bad no one'll even think about touching you again, gonna make you come so hard you forget everyone else’s name but mine"

And Simon’s already so wrecked, clinging to you, groaning into your neck, hips stuttering helplessly, and when you bite down on his shoulder hard enough to leave a bruise through his hoodie, he spills inside you with a sound so rough and desperate it’s almost a sob.

You don't let up, grinding on him slow and filthy, kissing his throat, his jaw, whispering, "mine, mine, always mine," over and over again until you feel him throb inside you one more time, a second, broken little aftershock you didn’t even know was possible.

And when you finally pull back and look at him, red-faced, breathing hard, pupils blown wide, he just smiles that stupid, wrecked little smile he only ever gives you, and you know you don’t have to say anything else.

Because the way he looks at you — like he belongs to you, like he wants to belong to you — is all the proof you’ll ever need.

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

fuck me i love them

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tessakate

[jxwl4k]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ flawless .𖥔 ݁ ˖

☘︎ . . . genre. fluff

☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x reader

☘︎ . . . requested? yes by anon

⤿ YN LN is the picture of perfection, brilliant, kind and impossibly talented. But behind her angelic smile lies a sharp tongue that she keeps hidden.

YN LN was perfect—untouchably so.

Her hair always shone like it had been blessed by the heavens, her grades were flawless, and her quirk—a dazzling ability to manipulate light into solid constructs—was nothing short of extraordinary. Every smile she gave was met with sighs, every word she spoke carried a melody of grace.

And it drove Katsuki Bakugou absolutely insane.

“Why’s she acting like she’s some kind of goddess?” he muttered under his breath as YN entered the classroom. Her angelic aura seemed to glow brighter when she greeted everyone. “Tch. Fake.”

YN, having heard him, maintained her kind smile, but her inner monologue flared to life:

“Fake? Oh, I’ll show you fake, you spiky-haired gremlin. Just wait until I—”

“Good morning, Bakugou,” she said sweetly, cutting her own thoughts off.

“Tch.” He didn’t even look at her.

“This brat’s gonna pay for ignoring me in front of everyone! I was blessed by God—this kind of disrespect would NEVER happen to me. I choose not to accept it!”

Despite her carefully curated reputation, YN had a side to her that no one knew—a competitive, hot-headed, and downright foul-mouthed streak that she kept buried beneath layers of charm. The only person who seemed to bring it dangerously close to the surface was Bakugou Katsuki.

It all started during a routine quirk demonstration.

“LN, Bakugou,” Aizawa called, looking as tired as ever. “You’ll be paired up to test each other’s quirks. Bakugou, go easy on her. LN, don’t let his explosions overwhelm you.”

Y/N’s smile didn’t falter, but her eye twitched imperceptibly. “Go easy on me? What am I, a toddler? I’ll obliterate him.”

Bakugou smirked. “Hope you can keep up, ‘Golden Girl.’ Wouldn’t want to ruin that perfect image of yours.”

Her fingers tightened into fists at her sides. “Of course,” she said with a laugh, though inside, she was seething. “You’re WAY off, idiot! I’ll wipe that smirk off your stupid face!”

The match began, and YN summoned a glowing shield of pure light, deflecting Bakugou’s explosions effortlessly. She countered with sharp, whip-like constructs, forcing him to dodge.

“Not bad,” he admitted grudgingly, sending another blast her way.

She sidestepped it with ease, her tone smug. “Oh? Did you expect me to just stand there and let you win?”

For the first time, Bakugou looked genuinely intrigued. “Hah. So you’re not just a pretty face after all.”

“A ‘pretty face’? That’s all he sees me as?! This guy—UGH!”

YN’s next attack was less restrained, her light constructs slamming into the ground with enough force to shake the arena. The spectators gasped, but she quickly composed herself, her sweet smile returning.

“Oops,” she said lightly. “Guess I overdid it!”

Bakugou, however, saw right through her.

After the match, YN sat alone, meticulously cleaning her gloves. Bakugou appeared out of nowhere, plopping down next to her with his usual lack of grace.

“What do you want, Bakugou?” she asked, her voice as light as ever.

He didn’t answer immediately, his sharp gaze studying her. “You’re not like them,” he said finally.

She blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You act all nice and perfect, but when we were fighting, you looked like you were actually havin’ fun. Like you’re hiding somethin’.”

Her hand froze mid-polish.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her tone just a little too defensive.

He snorted. “Whatever. Just don’t bother pretending around me. It’s annoying.”

She watched him walk away, her heart pounding.

“That brat! Who does he think he is?!”

And yet, for some reason, she couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto her face.

[mythicmanuscripts]

Hi! 🫶🏻 It's me again! A have another ask, if you are not tired of me already 😂

How would Jace deal with his sensitive, pretty cock being sucked for the first time? And what are his thoughts on the act itself? I imagine he would think it is too degrading for his lady wife, love of his life, future queen of the seven kingdoms to perform such an act? Maybe she can prove him wrong?

ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT QUESTION!! I am so glad to see how we all are obsessed with sensitive!Jace and how he absolutely adores his pretty wife.

NSFW sub!Jace below the cut!!

Okay I'm gonna go sort of off topic for a second before getting to the point of the ask because I think we must establish this. I thought of it and it is demanding to be freed. So firstly, I think I love the concept of inexperienced!Jace as much as I love sensitive!Jace and I think they go hand in hand? Cause obviously we know he's very very sensitive and gets super overwhelmed and obviously is a virgin when you marry him.

But it's more than just that. He's just... so noble and so proper? A real gentlemen. He's never touched another before you, but he's also very much all about duty and would never be caught dead doing anything anyone could consider to be debauchery.

As a result of both of these things, he gets flustered SO easily. And I don't just mean he blushes. He blushes bright red from his cheeks to his ears and he stumbles over his words and has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Even the smallest things can turn him utterly useless.

Of course you notice thing long before the wedding, and of course you can't just ignore it. You see how blushy he gets when your hand brushes is, and so you just have to push it a little to see how flustered he can really get. Poor Jace is in heaven and hell when you do this, because it feels so good but it's so improper. He's supposed to wait until marriage! He's not even supposed to touch you before that and now you're kissing his cheek!!

He keeps on saying that he doesn't want to ruin your reputation. He knows you're supposed to be a virgin and he would never do anything that could have people doubting your purity before marriage (this is irrelevant of whether you're actually a virgin or not, that doesn't matter, it's all about what people think).

He's never jerked off so much in his life. Usually he avoids masturbation as much as he can because he gets far too sensitive afterwards and the comedown when the adrenaline drops leaves him feeling terrible. He can't keep that up now though, because you're driving him insane every day and for the first time he's getting hard ons that just won't go away no matter how much he tries to ignore them and so he has to deal with it. He does what he has to so that he hopefully won't lose control around you.

But damn being a gentleman like that gets more and more impossible with each passing day. He eventually tries to avoid you before the wedding but that only makes things worse because inevitably he'll get so desperate that he ends up outside of your door begging for something, anything.

This is the first time you offer to suck his dick. You'd ask if you could fuck him right then and there but considering how flustered and nervous he is you think he genuinely might run away if you ask that, so you settle for wanting to give him head. He's so cute and desperate and flustered and you just have to know what he sounds like when he cums.

But when you ask, he says no. You respect that of course, but you also ask why not because he's very clearly rock hard in his breeches and even bucking his hips up every now and then. He tells you that he could never ask you to do such a thing, and so you end up just kissing a bit until Jace is like 2 seconds away from cumming in his breeches which is when he runs off back to his own room.

You think that once you're married he'll want that, but then you are married and he doesn't? You can't figure out why. He lets you fuck him and give him handjobs and begs so prettily for you to couch him but for some reason he won't let you suck his cock.

Eventually he admits he thinks it's far too degrading. Jace sees you as an angel from heaven and he would never ever ask you to do the job of a whore. You respect this of course, but you're also confused and a little disappointed because you would love to see him lose his little mind when you wrap your lips around his cock.

I think maybe the way you show him hat the act isn't below you when you're doing it to your husband is to ask Jace to eat you out? Okay here me out, here's how it happens:

It's in the first week of your marriage and Jace cums too soon. Which is expected at this point and you honestly don't even mind because the way he cries and whines and moans your name is positively sinful and you always want to see it. You can get yourself off if you need to, but first you want to enjoy watching him.

Afterwards, he collapses against you and says he's sorry because he knows he wasnt good that time. Before you can reassure him, he carries on and asks what he can do to help. You consider telling him to just relax and enjoy the show, but you end up not saying that because you love experimenting with Jace and seeing what he likes.

So you tell him that he can eat you out if he'd like. It takes a few tries to be able to explain what you mean, and immediately he's down for it. He is down for anything that would make you feel good. From the moment he tastes you he's utterly obsessed. It honestly feels even better than sex to be between your thighs and hear you call out his name.

Once you're both recovered and laying in bed that night, you bring up how he gave you head. At first the darling thinks he did something wrong and it takes three kisses before he relaxes and just listens to what you have to say.

You ask him if he thought that eating you out was beneath him and unbecoming to a prince and heir to the thrown. Immediately he's scrambling to express how much he loved it and how it is not beneath him even slightly.

When you hear this, you smirk and tell him how you feel the same about giving him head. It's not beneath you. He is your husband.

He considers this and a few days later he says he wants to try. And holy fuck nothing could have prepared you for the way he whimpers your name. He loves every second of it, and of course he cums so so hard that all he can do afterwards it curl up in your chest and mumble his thanks over and over again.

He can never last long when you're blowing him, but he loves every single second and the moment he's recovered he's immediately moving down to between your thighs to return the favour.

[slytherinshua]

2AM CRISIS

genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...

“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.

You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.

“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you. 

He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.

Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.

You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea. 

You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.

“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.

“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.

The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am. 

“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowing down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart. 

“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.

“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.

Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit. 

You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.

Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]

DATE

1:27 am August 29th

After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.

If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.

You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.

If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.

You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.

You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.

“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.

“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.

“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”

He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.

“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.

“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.

“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.

“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.

“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”

“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.

“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.

“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“

“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”

“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.

He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.

You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.

His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.

“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”

“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”

“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”

“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.

“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”

You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.

“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.

“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.

“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.

You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.

Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.

Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.

“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”

“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.

“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”

“What!? I never said-“

“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”

He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.

“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”

“No! No, I… that’s not something-“

“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”

He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.

“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”

“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”

“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.

“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.

“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”

He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.

“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.

“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”

He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.

You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.

“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.

“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.

“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.

You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.

“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.

“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.

“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”

He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.

“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.

“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.

“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.

“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.

“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.

“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.

“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”

He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.

“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.

You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.

“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.

Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.

“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.

“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.

“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.

“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.

“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”

You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.

The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut��� his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.

It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.

“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.

“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.

“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.

“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.

“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.

He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.

“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.

“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”

You nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”

He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.

“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”

“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.

“Yes Sir.”

“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”

He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.

He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.

In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.

It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.

“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.

“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”

“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.

Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.

“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.

“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.

“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.

“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.

“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.

“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.

“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.

“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.

Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.

“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.

“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.

“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”

“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.

Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.

Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?

A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.

“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.

He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.

It was all so much. Too much.

With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.

“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”

“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“

“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”

You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.

He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.

“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.

“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.

He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.

He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.

He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.

You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.

He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.

Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.

His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.

Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.

That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.

So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.

“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.

A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.

Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.

The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.

“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”

There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.

You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.

“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”

Diary Entry: August 29th

Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.

You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.

The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.

But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.

Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.

The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.

You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.

You freaky bitch.

If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.

I like it when you go limp.

You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.

And you still let me keep fucking you.

I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.

I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.

But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?

Oh! Just me? Nice.

So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.

You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.

The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.

I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.

But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.

Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.

Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.

It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.

P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.

P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.

DATE

August 29th

When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.

It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.

Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.

You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.

“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.

“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.

You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”

“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.

“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.

“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.

“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.

“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.

You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.

“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“I have to pee.” You mumbled.

“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.

He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.

After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.

“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.

“Yes?” You responded confusedly.

“Good, open the door.”

“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.

“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.

“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.

“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.

“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.

“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”

You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.

“What?” He asked sharply.

“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.

You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.

It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.

But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.

“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.

“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.

“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.

“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”

“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”

“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.

You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.

“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.

“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.

“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.

“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.

“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.

“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.

He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.

“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.

“OxyClean and dish soap.”

“Why?”

“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.

“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.

“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.

“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.

“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.

“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.

He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”

Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.

“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“

“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.

Diary Entry: August 30th

Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.

I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.

Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.

Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘

That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.

DATE

August 31st

Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.

“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”

“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.

“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.

You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.

“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.

“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”

“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.

“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.

“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”

“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.

“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”

“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.

“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.

You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.

“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.

“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.

“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.

“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.

“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.

“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.

“What did you just say?” He snickered.

“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.

“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.

“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.

Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.

“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.

“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.

He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.

“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.

“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.

“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”

“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.

“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.

“What about my c-“

“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.

“Poor little princess?��� He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”

“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.

“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.

“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.

His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.

“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.

“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.

“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”

Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.

He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”

The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.

“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.

“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.

“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”

“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.

You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.

“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.

Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.

“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.

You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.

“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.

“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.

“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.

“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.

“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.

“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.

——————————————————————————

“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.

“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.

“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.

“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”

“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.

“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.

It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.

You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”

“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.

Did you even deserve those soft touches?

“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.

‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’

“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.

“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.

“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.

Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.

He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.

“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.

He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.

With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.

Diary Entry: August 31st

Have I let this go on for too long?

I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.

I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.

It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.

DATE

September 2nd

Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.

Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.

Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.

What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?

He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.

“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.

You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.

You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.

“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.

He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.

“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.

“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”

“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”

“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.

“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.

You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.

“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.

“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.

“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.

“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.

“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”

“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”

“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.

“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.

“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”

“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”

“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.

“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.

“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”

“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“

“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.

“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.

“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.

“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”

“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”

——————————————————————————

Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.

“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”

“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.

“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.

You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.

You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.

“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”

“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”

“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.

“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.

“Mhm. It would.”

“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.

“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.

“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”

“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.

“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.

“Anakin wait there’s-“

Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.

“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.

Tag-List:

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THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

[redr0sewrites]

One thing I can't help but feel a Sub!Vox would unexpectedly enjoy is getting reminded/teased about the fact he has a safe word he can use.

Like, beyond just the safe, practical etiquette of double checking and making sure everything's still okay, in the scenario that he absolutely is still okay: You got him so worked up, overstimulated, repeatedly sobbing out "I can't"s, only to have you sweetly cut in with a sweet "Do you need to use the safe word~?" (Or any other possible non-verbal "STOP" sign that got agreed upon), and having that answer be "No."

Him getting faced with the fact that he can so, so, so easily have anything that's happening to him stop, should he so wish it, and yet, despite all his whining and begging and crying, he's actively choosing not to have it stop.

Him just getting so flustered by that paradox of him being reminded that he's in complete control over having no control~

YESSSSSS AUGHGHH I NEED TO PAMPER HIM‼️

🥀Cw: smut, sub!vox, safeword mentioned, overstim, not proofread bc i am both sick and tired im so sorry

🥀minors dni

once vox is in subspace, he really is a mess- drooling, moaning, whimpering, clawing at the sheets, and most obviously, crying

to most people this would give the impression that he wants to stop, but in reality, vox very very rarely uses the safeword but fuuuck it is SUCH a turn on for him that the opportunity is there

we all know he has a power kink, and he's so obviously in a submissive position during sex, but the fact that you're the one allowing him to stop if he needs to? it gets to his head

it also opens the door to his humiliation kink, bc nothing turns him on more than being humiliated. the fact that he could so, so easily quit, just walk out and be out of the embarrassing, submissive position he's in but instead he finds himself wanting to be wrecked- more than wrecked, downright ruined by you when he could so easily walk away. the entire situation is exhilarating and arousing to him

he also adores it when you use it mockingly, if you start cooing "aww, poor baby, do y'need to tap out already? gonna use the safeword sweetie?" he's already babbling, pleading with you to keep going, how he's being suuuuch a good boy! and then? well, he's rambling on and on about how he can't stop yet, how he needs to cum! how could you deny him?

vox takes punishments well, but will brat out the whole time, whimpering and whining about how he can't take it. however, the second you threaten to stop, or offer the safeword? he's putty in your hands, drooling and clawing at the sheets, practically begging you to keep going. its the quickest way to get him to completely submit to you without even another word!

vox isn't used to relinquishing control in general, so the power dynamics proposed by the safeword honestly make him trust you even more. even outside of the bedroom, it flusters him when you ask before touching him or when you ask about sex instead of just initiating.

when it comes to softer sex, vox also likes to be reminded of the safeword! sometimes he's just so stressed out that he just wants to be pampered, but he reaches a point where his mind gets so fuzzy he just can't stop :( he's mewling and whining as you ride him, tears streaming down his screen as you praise him, and he doesn't realize how far gone he is until you gently remind him he can tap out whenever he needs to. vox will nod, eyes watery and face flushed, and soon he becomes more aware of just how sleepy he is. he always makes sure you both cum one more time before tapping out, but i can also see him having a bit of a somnophilia kink, so he would probably consent to letting you fuck him in his sleep, with the promise of the safeword still being valid

i mentioned this before in the dry humping hcs, but sometimes, vox will get so needy and horny that he just can't stop, so the reminder of the safeword is often very useful when he's too far gone to communicate but is like 2 seconds away from passing out. but sometimes he likes to be pushed to the edge too, so he won't always use the safeword but gets off on the fact that the option is there

also tiny additional hc, i think he would like to use a meaningful word for a safeword. maybe something related to technology, like radio or something, or possibly electric. like if he started saying electric, it would mean he wanted to stop. or i think he would use a color system, you would ask him what color and he'd say red green or yellow depending on how into it he is or how he's feeling etc etc. either way he wants it to be meaningful and not just some random word- like he wants a sentimental reasoning behind whatever word you choose (feel free to comment safeword ideas so i can use them in future fics 👹)

vox lets out a wanton moan, glitching and panting as he humps your thigh like a dog in heat. he's writhing under your touch, unsure of where to put his hands when all he can focus on is the pressure against his painfully hard cock. its sinful the way he drags his hips, mewling deliriously as he creams in his pants for what feels like the hundreth time, and yet his pace doesn't falter as he ruts against you. he's a panting mess and barely coherent and he babbles, whimpering your name over and over. "fuc- zzz -k, 'm so- ple-zzz-" vox gasps, thighs shaking as you wrap your arms around his neck. his cock throbs when you make eye contact with him and his thighs squeeze around yours. a stain darkens the front of his pants, leftover from his previous release in his dazed rut. "vox," you coo, rubbing the ports on the back of his screen as he struggles to remain coherent enough to focus on your words. "vox, baby, do you need the safeword?" your voice is sickeningly sweet, laced with concern and lust.

vox paused at the thought, dread seeping into his body as he let out a pathetic whine. "nno, 'm fine," he slurred, rolling his hips against your thigh. "m not even tired," he mewls deliriously, and you nod, taking notice of his drooping eyelids and slowing movements. "okay sweetie, only one more round though, okay?" vox nods, tears streaming down his screen as his claws dig into the plush of your hips. you steady him, and you move your leg, assisting him in grinding against you as you shake your thigh. vox whimpers, static lacing his voice as he glitches out entirely. repeating your name like a prayer, his body tenses as he cums fast and hard, soaking his pants yet again. vox collapses against you, breathing ragged as he struggled to keep his eyelids from drooping. "you okay, baby?" you purr, and he nods, slumping deeper into your touch. "lets get you cleaned up, hm?"

UWRGJREHHEHEHEHE I AM ALWAYS IN THE MOOD FOR SUB VOX!!!!!!!!!! i love the idea of being soft w him sm- i genuinely have not written enough sfw stuff for vox so if anyone has anything fluffy to say ab him PLEASE come into my inbox. ALSO IF ANYONE HAS ANYTHING LUTE RELATED TO SAY ESPECIALLY/INCLUDING SMUT ALSO PLS COME INTO MY INVOX BC RUEGRHRGRHGR THEYRE BOTH MY FAVS RN

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Chapter 13: Only You.

For months, Chris had been trying to prove to you that he wanted everything with you.

That he wasn’t going anywhere. That this wasn’t just some temporary feeling for him—it was real, it was permanent, and he needed you to know that.

Ever since the night you finally admitted your feelings for each other, everything had changed. You made it official soon after, and Chris had been nothing but devoted to you since. Every day, he found a new way to remind you how much he loved you, how much he needed you.

And he did it in every way possible—through words, through actions, and especially through the endless messages he sent, reminding you every single day that you were his, and he was yours.

01: Morning Messages

Chris: Good morning, my love. I hope you slept well. I woke up thinking about you (shocker, I know), and I just need you to know how much I love you. Like, it’s actually insane how obsessed I am with you. If I could spend every second with you, I would. And if anyone tries to ruin your day today, let me know. I’ll handle it. Love you, baby.

You: You’re so dramatic, you know that?

Chris: Not dramatic, just very in love with my girl.

You: Fine. I love you too.

Chris: Damn right you do.

—

Chris: Princess, wake up. The sun’s out, the birds are chirping, and I miss you.

You: Chris, it’s 7 AM.

Chris: Exactly. That means you’ve already wasted at least 7 hours not being in my arms.

You: Christopher.

Chris: Sweetheart.

You: I need sleep.

Chris: You need me.

02: Random Check-Ins

Chris: Baby, have you eaten today? Drank water? Taken a deep breath?

You: Yes, dad.

Chris: Shut up, I just care about my girl.

You: I know, I know. I love you.

Chris: Damn right you do.

—

Chris: I just saw a couple walking down the street, holding hands, looking all cute, and you know what I thought?

You: What?

Chris: That should be us. Except you’d probably be dragging me into some random store because you saw something “cute” that you absolutely needed to have.

You: First of all, correct. Second of all, it’s called retail therapy.

Chris: And what am I called?

You: My personal ATM.

Chris: Wow. Love that for me.

03: Soft Reassurances

You: I just don’t want to lose you, Chris.

Chris: You won’t, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.

You: Promise?

Chris: On everything. Now stop worrying and come let me love on you.

—

You: Sometimes I feel like I’m too much.

Chris: Baby, you are everything to me. I love the way you are, every single part of you. There’s no such thing as “too much” when it comes to you. If anything, I just want more of you.

You: More?

Chris: Yes, baby. More laughs, more kisses, more late-night talks, more waking up next to you. I want everything with you.

04: When He’s Extra Soft

Chris: You know what my favorite thing is?

You: What?

Chris: The way you look at me. Like I’m the only person in the world. That look right there? That’s what keeps me breathing.

You: Oh my god, Chris.

Chris: What? It’s the truth. I’ll never get tired of looking at you, baby.

—

Chris: I was having a bad day, but then I thought about you, and suddenly everything felt better.

You: Chris…

Chris: Baby, I’m serious. You’re my peace. My safe place. My favorite person. I don’t think you’ll ever understand just how much I love you.

You: You’re gonna make me cry.

Chris: Come cry in my arms, then. I’ll hold you forever, angel.

05: Late-Night Messages

Chris: Falling asleep without you is so hard, baby. My bed feels empty. My arms feel useless. I keep rolling over expecting you to be there, and when you’re not, I sigh dramatically to myself like I’m in a sad movie. Just come over already.

You: Chris, I am literally in my pajamas.

Chris: Perfect. Less time wasted when you get here.

You: Why are you even up so late?

Chris: Thinking about you.

You: Chris.

Chris: What? My brain literally refuses to shut off when you exist.

You: Do I live in your head rent-free?

Chris: Baby, you own the damn penthouse in my head. Fully furnished.

—

Chris didn’t care about anything or anyone else anymore.

Avery? She was nothing but a bad memory. He didn’t waste a second thinking about her—because his mind, his heart, his everything belonged to you now.

You weren’t second choice. You never had been. And every day, Chris proved that to you in a million little ways.

When he held your hand absentmindedly while driving. When he showed up at your place just because he missed you. When he kissed your forehead and mumbled, “Mine,” against your skin like he was afraid you’d disappear.

And especially when he texted you things like:

Chris: I don’t care about anything that came before us, baby. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about my past. The only thing I care about is my future—and that’s you. Just you.

And deep down, you knew.

You had nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Because Chris was yours.

Completely.

Unconditionally.

Forever.

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

A/N- I LOVE THIS MORE THEN ANYTHING.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl

CHAPTER 12

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere //// Part 3

Part 1 • 2• 4

With your trial on hold and them still in desperate need of their technician, no one goes too far 

But you are isolated by most 

And verbally tested by the lieutenant

“Oh hi, I was cooking some potatoes if you’d like to have some?”

“Hm, so you have time to ruin our ship’s programming and to waste supplies; instead of the pre-made meals that are just as nutritious?”

“It’s not going to waste. I’m going to eat–”

“Talk to me when you have some form of value, again.”

Jule’s anger helps Vera identify the thoughts they’ve been having about ‘accidentally’ unlocking the doors of the airlock for the lieutenant

“Can you believe them after so much (Y/n) has done to help, this is how they repay them?!” 

“Not to mention the harassment they think goes unseen.”

“Exactly! I feel less inclined to help these people every day.”

It doesn’t get any better

No matter how many times Jules can get the Captain to ridicule this behavior it never stops

It gets bad enough that Vera stops you from going into your room one day

“Vera! What’s going on, you’re scaring me?”

“I do not mean to but the state of your room…well it is best you spend the night with Jules.”

“Yikes…is my box from home okay?”

“...I cannot definitively answer that I am contacting the hazard containment team now.”

One night turns into many which oddly enough improves your mood

Jules was never really social anyway so his room is a comfy place

You both naturally grow closer with each other and Vera in your lonesome

It’s easy to keep you happy that way

Vera will inform you when the theater is empty or the art room is restocked just for you

So that you can enjoy in peace

But Jule and Vera don’t have that luxury of just avoiding everyone

They both intently watch and listen to the crew become a real hostile place

Not just for you but for Vera too 

Turns out the Captain isn’t too thrilled about the ship gaining sentience

“You are the technician, fix it!”

“It’s not something I can just ‘fix.’ Also historically this is the first ship to gain sentience like this and not in a violent fashion.”

“I DON’T CARE!! I SIGNED UP TO COMMAND THESE PEOPLE NOT A SHIP!”

Hatred for Vera grows as people whine about threats

In truth, they aren’t threats

They’re Vera criticizing their violent ‘pranks’ against you

When the accusations become louder talks of abandoning the ship are more frequent

“These people are so awful I’m getting just about tired of helping them at all.”

“Me too.”

“…Hey, d’ya want to do something that’s going to make them crap their pants?”

“Sure!” 

In absolute rebellion, Jule reveals a plan kept secret among the crew about ‘the artificial protector’

Having all the physical features of a human man but all the innards of the greatest metal and technology known to mankind

To most, it looks like any other passenger still being kept in a pod but of course, this one’s different

As their prized genius technician, Jule’s expertise would be needed to access it anyway because he knows the inner workings so well

It has a separate AI installed, an older one meant to take control if the ship were to malfunction in any way

Jule immediately fries that circuit board completely 

putting one that connects to Vera’s system before hiding the robot back inside it’s pod

“Why cannot I not try it out now?”

“Because it’ll screw with my plans if you do.”

“But…I want to feel you both.”

“Soon Ver. Soon.”

Part 4: Coming?

[theangelsheardyou]

Ranpo loves praise♡

Bottom!RANPO X Top!Fem!READER

| Praise kink, use of "Mommy" and "Baby", submissive Ranpo, creampie |

Ranpo loves praise.

It's so cute seeing a man who seemed so sure of himself be absolutely ruined just by a couple kind words.

Just a little compliment here and there, and Ranpo was putty in your hands.

It was dark that night, the only light coming from the moon itself as it danced its way in through the window. It crept up the floorboards until it reached the two of you.

Ranpo was deep inside of you, fucking you slowly and desperately. He knelt between your legs, his grip loosening and hardening against your thighs, keeping them apart lazily. His eyes were barely open, and in the darkness you saw only bright green slits staring back at you, awaiting your approval.

"Such a good boy, Ranpo, dear..." you cooed, finding the tired rhythm of his movements sweet and cute. He was such a baby, your baby after all. All he wanted all day was your pussy, especially after you'd been teasing him all day with those thigh highs that cupped the fat on your legs beautifully. Several times throughout the day, he thought he was going to cum on the spot everytime you leaned over to hand him some paperwork, or gently caressed your thighs knowing he was watching, or simply walking past, allowing your sweet aroma to fill his nose and in turn his dirty thoughts. But he made it, he was good, and he went the whole day without cumming or jerking off. That deserved a reward.

"Ahn, ah, M-Mommy..." He whined, his approval battery suddenly drained so quickly, desperately asking for more of your delicious praise.

"Yes, Baby?" You asked, as if you didn't already know what he wanted.

"M-Mommy, am-am I doing g-good?" He asked as he tried thrusting into you faster, hoping to please you more. Silly boy, just the thought of him not being enough for you was torture for him. He needed validation, he needed your praise.

"Yes, dear, you're doing so good..." you cupped his cheek with your hand, caressing him lovingly. "So good for me, such a good boy..."

"M-Ma...Mommy...." He moaned, slowly reaching his limit.

That's when you decided to bring in the big guns.

"Such a good boy, Ranpo, fucking me so well. So good for me, so good for Mommy...." you added a couple moans here and there, making sure your voice was as sultry as possible, knowing it made Ranpo go crazy.

His hips started stuttering and his grip on your thighs tightened. "M-Mom-Mommy!! Hah, hah...Mommy!!" He whimpered as he slowly reached his release.

That's when you started tingling all over, his cock reaching your sweet spot more and in a faster pace, you held onto his back to keep him close as you both came together.

Ranpo was breathing heavily now, thrusting in slowly, just once or twice, savoring what was left of that feeling, before slowly pulling out with a grunt.

He looked beneath him to find your pretty little pussy, liquids shining in the moonlight like wet little stars. His cum spilled out of you, overfilling your hole nicely. You put on your panties and let down the nightshirt that had been previously pulled up above your breasts, pulling your beloved into a sweet goodnight kiss.

Ranpo finally caught his breath within your mouth. "Please," He pleaded. "One more?"

"No, no, we have work in the morning, remember?" You said, watching him pout like a spoiled little child, it was so cute to see.

"Reeaaally?" He asked again as you pulled him into the covers. "Yes, really, now go to bed, Kunikida-san will yell at you for making us late."

"Why would it be my fault?!" He whined.

"Cause I'm blaming you, of course!" You teased. "Plus, I'm the one who has to shovel cum out of my pussy and take a pill tomorrow, it's only fair."

"Fine." He pouted, getting under the covers to go to sleep.

"But I know you're just doing this just so I'll be extra horny tomorrow."

"Ah, so I guess you don't need those glasses to deduct me."

"Of course! I'm the greatest detective, you know!"

"Of course dear. Goodnight."

"Hmmph. Goodnight."

As Ranpo slowly fell deeper into his sleep, you caressed him, twisting and twirling his black hair around your fingers as you silently read your book.

Ranpo sure does love praise.

[kerryshifts]

shifting is not meant to be stressful.

with my lovely beer in the left hand, and period cramps, i want to remind you that shifting it’s not meant to stress you. i see so many people focus on methods: until when i count? what affirmations do i have to say? am i doing this correctly?

like BABES. what about you? when i realized that my shifting journey was not only making me sad, but left me with no interest for my drs or this practice, it was like a punch in the tits. i was draining myself!!!. “i am not going to shift with this method, why am i even trying?” is something i would say to myself everytime i tried, and the motivation went down down and DOWN.

then i guess shifting slapped me in the face multiple times and i understood that it was actually something that should make me happy and free, not making me feel like i am in a cage. then i thought: girl, what’s something that makes you happy? and pooof everything seems to align perfectly. i felt a genius spencer-reid-level. well, i love writing, i love music, i love daydreaming, and i love films.

and i had the perfect answer.

a year ago i put music on and, without forcing myself methods or meditation (which i hate i think i have undiagnosed adhd and i absolutely hated everyone who was like ‘you have to meditate to shift!!!) i was feeling in my dr body i totally forgot about this happening which is hilarious which, until then, never happened to me. that’s when i totally ditched informations on tiktok, bought a journal, and started my cool girl shift.

i love movies: romanticising everything i do, and my drs. as you can see my pinterest is very curated. then, when i am in my shower i always try to act like in my dr, to keep me motivated. lighting my candles and journaling about my dr, feeling like an actress quentin tarantino was filming (this sounds weird but hey you know what i mean)

i love music: playlist absolutely changed the game. not only made me discover new music, but this is truly the main reason why i am enjoying this journey so much. music cures scars of my soul, and this such a motivation to shift — makes me feel better mentally.

i love daydreaming: now, i’ve always seen people on tiktok saying how daydreaming ruins their shifting journey, and i integrated that. then i started seeing daydreaming as a method, and now i see it as a manifestation on my desired reality; i am already there, and im just manifesting what i actually want (even better if i scripted those things). this helped me so much that it’s how i shifted for the second time (when i told you guys!!!)

and i love writing: my journal is my everything. i write letters as dr self to my friends and family. i write in a diary as dr self; this helps me with overthinking and to enjoy this whole journey.

just do what makes you happy man. you can integrate everything you love into your shifting journey. why meditate if you don’t like it? why making yourself tired and tired and tired? there are no rules here.

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.

i  am  tired  of  being  brave

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.

‘Enough!’ you shout.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.

‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’

In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp  —  beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.

If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.

You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.

You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.

‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’

You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’

He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’

It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.

‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’

‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’

‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.

‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’

Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…

It’s more than that.

Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.

Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’

‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’

‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’

‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’

You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.

The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.

You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.

‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’