#will never forgive for trying to skin him

[mminghaos]

pink in the night , yoon jeonghan x f!reader

“and i know i’ve kissed you before, but i didn’t do it right”

SYNOPSIS: jeonghan shows up at your door months after the both of you ended things, and despite everything that’s happened, you cant help but give in.

WARNINGS: smut, oral (f!receiving), angst

requests open, do send some in !!

jeonghan shouldn’t be here, really.

and you shouldn’t be standing here, staring at him like you don’t know exactly how this ends.

but you don’t close the door.

he’s watching you, hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie, hair messy like he ran his fingers through it a hundred times before knocking. you hate that he still looks good like this — casual, effortless, like he didnt wreck you months ago and then leave you to pick up the pieces alone.

“what do you want?” your voice is sharper than you mean for it to be, but you dont take it back.

he shrugs, like this isn’t a big deal, like he’s just passing through. “just wanted to see you.”

your fingers curl tighter around the door. that’s the problem, isn’t it? jeonghan always does what he wants. shows up when it’s convenient for him. says things that get under your skin, waits for you to react, waits for you to break first.

not this time.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you tell him.

“i know,” he says. and yet, he still doesn’t leave.

you hate him for this. for making you stand in the doorway of your own apartment, pulse too quick, mind too slow. for making it so goddamn hard to look at him and remember why you let him go in the first place.

this is fucked up. things ended months ago. you should have shut the door in his face. he played with your feelings like they were nothing, kissed you like you were nothing. and now he expects you to forgive him just like that?

but then he exhales, slow, careful, and his voice drops into something softer. “i should’ve done stuff differently.” he says, taking a step closer “i had my chance and i fucked up.”

you scoff before you can stop yourself. “seriously?”

“i mean it,” he murmurs, tilting his head, studying you like he’s trying to figure out what you’ll do next. “you don’t think about it?”

you shouldn’t. but of course you do.

it’s what pisses you off the most. that even after everything, there are nights you still feel the ghost of his hands on you, his lips at your throat, his voice in your ear. that you still remember exactly how he felt between your legs and how you woke up to him besides you in the mornings.

but that’s not enough. it was never enough.

“not my problem,” you say, but your voice isn’t as steady as it should be.

he catches it, of course he does. jeonghan knows you too well, knows how to read between the lines, knows how to press at your weak spots until you let him in.

his fingers brush against your wrist — barely a touch, but it sends something sharp and electric up your spine. your stomach twists. he’s always been good at this.

you should tell him to leave.

but then his other hand finds your waist, and your breath catches, and you realize you don’t move away.

this is a mistake.

jeonghan leans in, slow, like he’s giving you time to stop him. his lips are close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, and your body betrays you, leaning just the slightest bit forward.

his lips barely graze yours before you turn your head, his mouth landing on your cheek instead.

“you don’t deserve that,” you whisper.

his forehead drops against yours, and he exhales, his hands flexing against your skin.

“i know.”

his voice is so quiet, too quiet. too good.

your fingers hover over his chest. they shouldn’t. but he’s warm, and close, and familiar in all the ways that make your head spin.

“just once,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “let me get it right.”

you should say no.

but you don’t.

his lips don’t press to yours right away. he waits, forehead still resting against yours, his hands unmoving at your waist like he’s giving you the chance to stop this. to step back and slam the door in his face like you should have the second you saw him standing there.

but you don’t move.

and neither does he.

his fingers tighten slightly, barely gripping, barely holding. like he’s afraid he’ll push too far and youll disappear. you should make him beg for it, should make him suffer the way you did when he walked away the first time, but the way he’s looking at you — soft, unreadable, too much — makes your chest ache.

“tell me to go,” he murmurs. “i will.”

your breath catches, throat tight, because he says it like he means it. like he’ll actually leave if you tell him to.

but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you don’t want him to.

you should. god, you should.

but instead, your fingers tighten in the front of his hoodie, tugging just slightly, and that’s all it takes.

he exhales shakily, barely a breath before his lips finally, finally press to yours.

and it’s everything you remember. warm, familiar, intoxicating in the way that makes your head spin. his hands slide up, fingertips pressing just hard enough to remind you that he’s here, that you’re letting him do this, that you should stop before it goes too far.

but you don’t.

because the second his tongue brushes against your lower lip, you part for him, and then you’re really kissing him — deep and slow and desperate, like trying to erase the last few months .

jeonghan groans softly into your mouth, his hands sliding lower, gripping your hips like he needs you closer, like he’s scared you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold tight enough. and maybe that should scare you, how easily you let him in, how easily you forget why you told yourself this would never happen again.

but then he’s walking you backward, guiding you towards your bedroom, and the second the door clicks shut behind him, it doesn’t matter anymore.

your back meets the bedroom wall with a quiet thud, and jeonghan takes the chance to press closer, caging you in. his hands are everywhere — sliding up your sides, skimming over your ribs, gripping just hard enough to make your breath hitch.

his lips don’t leave yours, moving slow, deep, like he’s savoring this, like he’s making sure you feel every second of it.

and you do.

your fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer, because no matter how much you hate this, hate him for still having this hold on you, it’s been months. months of pretending, months of acting like you don’t still crave him in the worst way.

his hands slide lower, palms hot against your bare skin as they dip under your shirt, and you shiver, arching into him before you can stop yourself. his lips curl against yours, and you hate the way he knows exactly what that means.

“still so sensitive,” he murmurs, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, then lower, lips ghosting over the column of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back against the wall, fingers curling against his chest. “shut up.”

he huffs a quiet laugh against your skin, but he doesn’t push — doesn’t gloat like you expect him to. instead, his hands skim up your sides again, slow, careful, like he’s feeling his way through this.

like he knows he doesn’t get to fuck this up a second time.

you should tell him to stop. should shove him back and remind him that this means nothing.

but when his teeth scrape against your pulse point, your breath stutters, and your nails press into his shoulders.

this is a mistake.

then he’s tugging your shirt higher, fingertips ghosting over your ribs, and your body betrays you all over again, pressing into him, wanting more.

jeonghan hums low in his throat, dragging his lips back up to yours.

“tell me to stop.” he murmurs, just before he goes in to kiss you again. “last chance to tell me to leave.”

and you don’t.

he guides you back to your bed, and it’s exactly as you remember. the soft creak of the mattress, the familiar scent of your sheets that’s somehow now mixed with his cologne. just the sight of him, standing over you, has that fluttering feeling in your stomach making its way up to your chest, catching your breath in a way you cant stop, no matter how much you try.

he leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear, murmuring, “let me make it up to you.” the words stir something deep inside, the kind of longing that you’ve tried so hard to bury.

you want to say no, so badly, the urge to push him off you, slam the door in his face, tell him to fuck off and never come back. but you don’t.

you can’t.

he’s too close. too fucking close. the warmth of his body next to yours makes it impossible to push him away.

and when his lips press against your neck, hot and soft, like a promise he doesn’t plan on keeping, you know that you should say something — anything — but you don’t.

you feel his fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down with practiced ease, and you don’t even have the energy to stop him. your hands curl into the sheets, your heart hammering in your chest. the last shred of resistance you had crumbles, and you’re left breathless beneath him.

he’s looking at you now, his gaze intense, searching your eyes like he’s trying to find something.

“focus,” he whispers, his voice low and coaxing, the softest it’s been in months. “are you sure? i don’t want you regretting anything like me.”

you try to summon some strength, to find some piece of you that remembers why this is such a terrible idea. you should push him away. you should stand your ground, tell him you’re not doing this.

but his voice — god, his voice, so quiet, so sincere — washes over you like a wave, and you feel yourself starting to slip. you exhale a shaky breath, your fingers clutching at the sheets like it might anchor you, but it doesn’t.

you tilt your head back against the pillow, closing your eyes, feeling the heat rise in your body.

“i’m sure,” you whisper, the words almost foreign on your tongue.

the moment you say it, you feel his mouth on you, his lips pressing softly at first, but then growing urgent, demanding as his hands slide down, holding your hips, guiding you towards him.

you lose track of everything — of the time, of the reason you told yourself you’d never go down this road with him again. his mouth is on your neck, then your chest, trailing down, his fingers already tracing the lines of your skin, the pads of them brushing so delicately against your stomach that your breath hitches.

you don’t know when your legs part, but they do, instinctively, welcoming him closer. his tongue dips between your legs, the warmth of it sending a jolt straight through you, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips.

your hands fly to his hair without thought, pulling him closer, urging him on, as his mouth works its way down, slow and deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of you. your breath comes faster, your heart pounding, and for a moment, everything else fades away.

all of it blurs until there’s nothing but him, the way he’s touching you, the way he knows exactly what to do.

his tongue flicks against your clit and swirls in slow, deliberate motions that make your legs twitch. the sensation has your body reacting before your mind can catch up, every nerve burning with heat. you can feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like it’s pulling you closer to the edge, and you curse yourself for getting so close so fast.

it’s embarrassing how easily he gets under your skin, how quickly he makes you lose control. the soft pressure of his mouth makes it impossible to think straight, to remember why you shouldn’t let this happen. every time he moves, his tongue tracing circles, flicking faster, slower, it makes your breath catch.

you want to say something — anything — to make him stop, but you dont find it in you to do so. it’s like he’s always known exactly what you need, and even if you try to push him away, he only pulls you deeper into this mess.

you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed him. you’ve missed this fucking idiot yoon jeonghan. missed his voice, his face, his scent, how he feels against you.

but you let go of the emotional shit for now just as his tongue prods at your entrance. his hands gripping your thighs, pulling you even closer. you can’t stop yourself from giving in.

“hannie—” you gasp, your voice weak, barely a whisper, and you let the nickname slip before you can stop yourself. he lifts his head up, his chin and mouth covered in your juices just as a low groan escapes from deep in his chest.

and just like that, you’re lost. you lose control. everything you thought you knew about what you wanted, what you needed, disappears in the rush of his touch, in the pull of his body, in the way he makes you forget how wrong this is.

and when he continues, each slow stroke of his tongue, each press of his mouth, you let yourself slip, even if you know its not a good idea.

the coil snaps.

your legs snap shut, pleasure coursing through your body. you can’t contain it, can’t hold back the wave crashing over you. every muscle in your body tightens, and your grip on jeonghan’s hair tightens along with them, pulling him even closer.

you come undone all over his face, trembling as you ride out your high. it feels like too much, like it’s going to swallow you whole, and yet, it’s exactly what you need. you don’t want to stop, don’t want this moment to end, even as the aftershocks make your body twitch with sensitivity.

he runs his hands over your hips, your thighs, your stomach, soothing you.

you’re left panting, flushed, and all you can focus on is him — how he’s holding you, how his mouth still lingers on your skin even after you’ve come undone.

“hmm, seems like my way of making it up to you is enough already, angel.”

[asfateentertwines]

Look I know we’re not getting shit with the episode count now a days but obsessed with flashbacks to the people the ghosts loved in life. Like let them haunt the narrative PLEASE

Janet whose father spirals, always thinking of how he could have saved her if he forced her to stop. Getting worse and worse, doubling down on his beliefs even as he crumbles. Her brother, forced into the role she dreamed of. Knowing that every step he takes leaves her bloody footprints behind him. How she feels so forgettable but her shadow has been at every one of her family’s shoulder for decades. Her father dying at the hand of incompetence and feeling her fingers dig into his flesh knowing she would have been great. That his faith in a twisted falsity won’t forgive him. The eyes in the fire burn their skin and scorch their pride.

Rhonda who so clearly left love behind. Her best friend seeing her in every blur in her peripheral. How the lyrics turn acidic in her mouth, how she hears a snort and “seriously, cherry pop?” every time but her voice is so, so hoarse. How the gravel in her own burns like hands on her own skin. Rhonda who stuck her classmates to the core. It had to be her fault, had to be, or else it could be them. Or it could be theirs. Rhonda who is swept away but holds an iron grip on their shoulders. Who watches over every failure with the surety that she would have been better. Her parents, crushed under the loss of the only good thing they ever did. Marjorie’s voice lingers and generations feel her fingers over their throat; a lost mystery that drags them forward.

Wally being the fragility of their own lives. Untouchable and above it all, dying in an instant with a broken neck and the promises he was made. The future they were so sure he had, the way he could have made it. But no one knew him. Every story is empty, every memory wrong, he’s forgotten even with a thousand retellings and a blaring stadium named after him. His mother standing in the moment he had. Lost in a split second loop even as decades move past her. How he moves on before they do, haunting because of what they lost in him and no one remembering what he lost for himself. A life lived and mourned for others.

Charley who was swept under the rug. Who no one wants to think of. Who makes them consider their cruelty, they humanity. Who died surrounded by people, knowing they coaxed him into death with kicks and laughs. How an accidental death with no murderer is still a trial of human cruelty. Emilio, aching for years at his own naivety, trying to be better, to make it better for the next Charley. Except Charley is always there (actually this time) and he still can’t hold on. Moving on and feeling every breath stolen from someone else’s lungs. How one boy meant nothing and said so much about people who never saw him. His parents, asked the question of would they rather a dead or gay son but knowing there was never a choice cause they were one and the same and maybe that’s their fault. Emilio holding his husband, seeing baby Charlie on the monitor, knowing a part of him will never not be 17.

Idk if any of this made sense but just give me the people left behind, let them have an impact. I’m losing my mind

[memory-of-idle-musings]

Can I request nsfw headcanons for sephiroth with a dummy thick or very curvy fem!reader?

Wish granted!

Hello Anon and thank you for the request! The thought of Sephiroth with an s/o that's more on the thick and chubby side makes me all warm inside, and I was already thinking of maybe writing something similar earlier. So this was very entertaining for me to write! Hope you enjoy!

⋆.˚┆NSFW Sephiroth headcanons with a chubby s/o .

╰─..★.──────★.

﹒✶ | Summary:

Nsfw headcanons on what Sephiroth would be like with a female s/o that's on the more curvy, or chubbier side in bed.

﹒✶ | Tags:

NSFW, sexually explicit, romance, fem!reader, pre-established romantic relationship, bulleted headcanons

﹒✶ | Trigger warnings:

NSFW, sexually explicit content MDNI!!!, rough sex, dom Sephiroth, biting/marking, chubby reader, mentions of being of heavier weight

〈 Pre-Nibelheim, crisis core timeline 〉

Some might find this surprising, but with his ripe, muscular physique and a body that's in peak physical condition, Sephiroth might actually end up having a preference for a thicker, heavier lover. He can definitely handle the extra meat on your bones, and it comes with so many unique, accommodating traits that he would find himself only hard-pressed to try and resist.  

For example, your large, round breasts. Oh, how he loves watching them bounce up and down as you ride his cock with an expression of pure bliss on your face.

He will grab them both firmly in his hands, squeezing them gently as he admires how heavy they feel in his palms, feeling the texture of your smooth, delicate nipples underneath his bare fingers. 

His tongue will trace over their every curve, every bump that he can find, folding them delicately. When his lips come in contact with your skin, he will suck on your breast like a drowning man, gasping for breath. All the while being absolutely delighted with how he can't even manage to fit it whole in his mouth.

He's honestly absolutely smitten with how soft your curvy body feels compared to his. He loves to just... Grab you, everywhere and anywhere that he can. The feeling of your soft, rounded flesh against him alone is almost enough to make him go absolutely feral for you.  

Especially while you are both naked, your body lying right beneath his own, and he can feel the way your flesh bends and molds to accommodate his own form, like a nearly perfect pillow for him to lie on. 

On that topic, he also really loves to feel your weight on top of him while you are riding him. Something about the way you press down on him so hard, making his senses so aware of your body's presence, might just drive him mad with lust.

Your delicious, plump ass is not spared of his grabby treatment either, as he will attempt to seize possession of it at any chance possible. 

While pounding you from behind, he will dig his nails into it's folds and watch as it ripples with every impact of his hips, and the sight alone is nearly enough to make him cum right away, filling you up with his seed.

He will bite you. No, seriously, he will bite and nibble at every single spot on your body that you allow him to. He won't be gentle with his bites either, he could never forgive himself for hurting you, but he will bite down hard. He can't get enough of the feeling of your skin folding beneath his teeth, and he swears that if it wouldn't hurt you, he would chew and tear at your flesh until there was nothing more of it left. 

The countless marks on your body are the perfect view to him whenever they end up being exposed. The perfect proof that you belong to him and him only.

He adores your tummy, how squishy and warm it feels. He will grab it, kiss it, then squish and hold it while fucking you. In a similar fashion to your breasts, he loves watching it jiggle as you ride him until he starts seeing stars. 

He took a weird liking to how your stomach slightly tilts and falls to the side while he's spoon fucking you. Anytime he catches a glimpse of that—not just while fucking you—it's only a matter of time before his cock grows as hard as a brick. 

Do you happen to have any stretch marks? Because if you do, fear not! He dotes on the intricate patterns marking your flesh, and with how fond and affectionate Sephiroth is toward them, you will forget that they are something you can even feel insecure about at all. If anything, they will become another one of his favorite spots to touch while making love to you.

His favorite part of your body? He loves your face the most, sure, but other than that? Your thick thighs.

Ever since you two got together, whenever you are alone, he has a hard time keeping his hands separated from your thighs. He will keep a hand laid on top of them at all times, slowly sliding down closer and closer toward your inner thigh-

Until they are holding his arm in a warm, soft, yet powerful grip. His hand has already found it's way below the fabric of your clothes, fingers now pushing into your wet entrance as his thumb circles your sensitive clit.

Please squish his head between them while he's eating you out. The warm pressure of your plump meat against his head will make him literally devour you.

He will definitely praise you, whispering compliments of your undisputed beauty in your ear while he holds your hand, already feeling himself nearing climax. He loves fucking you, his gorgeous angel.

[ghostinboys]

benedictus benedicat

summary: you have always wanted to fuck a gladiator pairing: emperor geta x male reader x lucius verus word count: 2k warning: male reader smut!

| masterlist |

You awoke to snakes of warmth slithering around your body. You soon realized that they were the limbs of countless naked men and women. 

It was routinary for the new royalty of Rome to place feasts in times of great victory and conquest to expand the empire. In the morning, there would be feasts of the most exotic fruits and viands the colonies could produce, wine would flow down cups as if it were from the Nile.

At night, however, there would be the feasts of flesh. The most elite and expensive whores would be brought to the palace for a night full of sex and wine, a feast that you have frequented at the request of the Emperor. 

The older emperor had always sought your company, especially during trying times. He would always look at you with his golden eyes. His pale hands are at your neck, and there are gold rings of many different colored jewels. He loved to use you, taking hours of thrusting and licking. You watched as his younger brother would go through many different men and women every night — but the older emperor took his time on using you, only you. 

Many of the elite members of the parties would try to come to you, old greying men of the senate glancing at you as you rode the golden emperor. At times, they would try to touch you, tug on your arm or your hair. The emperor was quick to scold them, threatening their lives for even laying a finger on you. You felt special, like a hero from an old myth defending his muse. 

You stood to see him near the window overlooking the Colosseum, sunlight casting a ray against his fiery hair. He was naked, his pale yet muscular body reflected light like quartz. He was much taller than his twin, and broader than the younger emperor who was scrawny. He flinched when he heard you come near. 

“Did I startle you, sire?” you said. Wrapping a silk blanket around your body. 

He shook his head, his eyes glazing down your frame. He gestured for you to come closer. He had always stood out from anyone in the room. His eyes were stained with red powder and his lips plump and pink. He took the robe off of you, his hand on your neck forcing you to look up at him.

“How many times have I spoken to you about covering yourself?” he said, his thumb rubbing on your lower lip. “Never be ashamed of your body my little dove.”

“Forgive me, sire—” you uttered before he pressed his lips on yours. It tasted of wine, his tongue toying with yours. His other hand snaked around your back before falling against your ass. His lips soon find your neck, each kiss deep and wet. You stare at the Colosseum behind him, in awe of its grand architecture. 

Emperor Geta stopped his wet “trail against your skin. He followed your gaze, a smile forming against his lips. “Have you ever been with a gladiator, little dove?” he said. 

“I have always been with you, sire,” you said. “but the idea does strike me.” you smiled.

“Then return to my chambers tonight,” he said, slipping a finger inside your mouth. He pressed against your shoulders forcing you down on your knees. You looked up at him with his erection teasing centimeters away from your lips. You licked his tip and slowly engulfed his hardness. He moaned and raked his hand through your hair. His little dove. 

The night was cold and dry. A  guard had led you to the Emperor’s chambers, a large room adorned with gold treasures. His bed was the biggest you have ever seen, draped in the whitest silks, and his nightstand was littered with coins and gold cups. Your eyes wandered to look for your golden emperor. He stood at the corner near the window, his shoulders draped in the finest toga. 

“My little dove,” he said, his eyes gleaming. In his hands were two cups, one for himself and one he handed over to you. You took a sip and let the bitter red liquid drip down your throat. “I have a gift for you.”

“A gift? My sire, I am unworthy,” you said. He gestured for his guards. They brought in a man cloaked in a ragged robe, torn and dirty. He was large, larger than you and the emperor, his figure cast a shadow against the flames and candles. 

“I have brought you,” he said, walking towards the man. “A gladiator.” He pulled off the hood to reveal a gladiator you have seen fight in the arena. He was tall and broad, more muscular than the emperor, his body was littered with cuts and scars, his chest more hairy and his beard unkempt. A red piece of cloth bound his eyes and wrists. He unrobed the man until he was wearing nothing but a piece of tunic and a blindfold. The man flinched, his breathing heavy. 

Geta sat on a chair near the bed, legs crossed and cup still in hand. You inched near the gladiator, your hands touching his sun-kissed skin. It was warm, sweat dripping down his nape. He smelled of ash and smoke. “He was given wine sourced from Asia, they say that it is infused with flowers that would provide a person with intense lust—a madness that renders them more beast than man,” Geta said. “Go on, have your fill. I am only here to watch.”

“Fascinating,” you whispered. You gently pushed him on the bed before pulling the tunic, his cock standing tall and thick, the tip leaking. You went down on your knees to take it inside your mouth. Your jaw ached from the girth. He writhed and cursed before grabbing your head and pushing you down with force. You gagged from the sudden motion, your eyes tearing. He fucked your mouth like a raging animal, stroking his cock with your mouth. His grip on your hair was tight and painful. 

“Take it, whore.” he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

Geta watched amused. His free hand toyed with the wine while another palmed his growing hardness. The gladiator let go of your head, and you gasped for air, drooling and panting. He rips off your tunic before pushing you down the bed. He spits on his hand before toying with your hole, he was rough and callous, a stark difference from the gentleness of the emperor. He pushed his thick cock deep into your hole, and you shouted from the stinging pain. He fucked you repeatedly until your knees and arms gave out. Soon, the thick manhood thrusting deep inside you brought pleasure throughout your body, you writhed and moaned, your cock rubbing against the silk. 

You gripped the sheets so tightly you could feel the soft fabric rip. Strong blows of force slammed against your hips as you clamored for air and release. You looked up to gain sight of the emperor. He stared at you with eyes filled with wanton lust. He spat on his palm and continued to stroke his aching cock. 

“Stop,” you hear the emperor's command. “Take your cock out, gladiator.” 

The gladiator grunted, easing up and taking his hardness out of your hole. You collapsed on the mattress panting and tired. You feel Geta’s ringed fingers smooth your hair. He gestures for you to look up, his golden eyes are now large pits of black. 

He bends down to kiss you, his tongue tastes of bitter wine. He gestures for the gladiator, he is glistening in sweat and smells like a day’s work. Geta grabs your hair and pushes it down the gladiator’s cock, pushing and pulling your head to stroke the warrior’s aching hardness. The emperor unclasped his tunic, and layers of gold cloth fell on the floor. You take his cock in your hands, stroking the pale cock while you sucked on the warrior. 

You took turns sucking on their cocks. Geta taking a hand and endlessly slapping your ass till it turned red. “What a greedy slut you are, my little dove,” said Geta. “as if taking a royal cock was not enough, you had to turn yourself into a common whore for a gladiator.”

You hummed on their cocks, your mouth too filled taking each cock in alternate strokes to even say a word. “Go on then gladiator, take his ass and fuck your fill,” he said in a snobbish tone. The gladiator went to the bed to take his place, going down to lick your aching hole. His beard was rough against your cheeks, but the wet licks he left on your hole made your legs shake and go weak. His hands gripped your ass, kneading the fatty flesh as he lapped on the hole he was soon to fuck. 

You soon felt the gladiator slowly sheath his big cock back into your hole. You wanted to gasp but Geta’s cock was still in your mouth. They both fucked into your holes, gaining some sort of non-verbal message to fuck you in the same rhythm. It was too much, you thought, your mouth and your ass getting fucked by large cocks. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, your knees weak while your shoulders trembled trying to have some balance. 

“Fuck—I’m close,” Geta moaned. “Go on gladiator, fill that hole with your seed. I shall do the same to his mouth.”

The room was filled with symphonious moans and grunts accompanied by loud slaps of flesh. You could feel the gladiator's breath on your nape, his large arms hugging you as he thrust even more. He takes your leaking cock in his hands, the pre-cum dripping down your shaft providing enough lubrication to make his strokes slip. 

Their breaths became labored, Geta whispered a thousand curses while the gladiator spoke in a language you could not understand. You were close, your climax teasing at your tip. Your whole body convulsed as you reached your high. Geta came into your mouth, leaving a loud grunt before pulling away. The gladiator hugged you tighter as he came, emptying his warmth inside you. 

Geta called for a bath, leaving you and the gladiator in bed. You stared at his body in slumber. He was handsome, you thought, full brows, a Grecian nose, and a body packed with dense muscle. You tried to touch his chest before his hand swiftly caught it. 

“I have no intention of hurting you,”  you said. “Are you okay? Do you still feel feverish?

“I should be the one asking you that question,” he sat down on the bed, a piece of cloth covering his groin. “I didn’t know what came over me, I’m sorry.”

You chuckled, his face dumbfounded. “You think you’re the first person to fuck me like that?” 

He chuckled as well, running a hand through his damp hair. 

“And so the mighty gladiator laughs? I thought if you even smiled a little your face would crack,” you said, his smile dropped garnering a bigger laugh from you. 

“Tease me again and I might just fuck that laugh away from you.”

“Yeah? Maybe I should tease you more then,” you said seductively before straddling his muscular thighs. You traced your hands on his muscles, his cock growing hard underneath you once more. 

“I dare you,” he said, pressing his lips against yours. 

if you likes this fic go check out some of my other stuff! want to request? don't be shy to send one!

[belit0]

Shisui as a husband hcs?

Had fun with this one💫

Flirting is non-stop. Whether they’ve been married for a day or a decade doesn't matter. Shisui never lets up.

-Have I told you how stunning you look today, my love?

Household chores are an absolute disaster. He tries, he really does, but sometimes…

Cooking? Burns the rice.

Laundry? Forgets it in the water for hours.

Cleaning? Distracted halfway.

-Babe, I have a better idea... instead of all these dumb chores, how about I sit here and admire you?-

Cuddles at all times.

When she’s cooking? He’s wrapped around her from behind.

When she’s reading? He plops his head in her lap.

When she’s mad at him? - I know you’re furious, but wouldn’t it be easier to forgive me if we were snuggling?

Even in sleep, he is attached to her like a second skin.

Steals her stuff constantly.

Hairbrush? -Needed it.-

Snacks? -Thought we were sharing.-

Clothes? -You always look better in my shirts.-

Loves making her blush. If teasing were an Olympic sport, Shisui would have multiple gold medals.

-Babe, say that again, but slower. For science.-

Spontaneous dates all the time.

Midnight walks, rooftop stargazing, sneaky picnics in restricted areas— nothing is ever predictable.

-I found this place that reminded me of you. Perfect, breathtaking, completely unforgettable. Let’s go.-

Goes out of his way to make her laugh.

Fakes dramatic injuries just for her to check on him.

-I’m gravely wounded, wife... only... only a kiss! will heal me!-

Trips over absolutely nothing, then acts like it was intentional.

Does dumb impressions of Madara and Indra behind their backs just to hear her giggle.

Endless teasing.

-We could get out of bed, but why would we when staying in it is so much more fun?-

Loves testing her limits.

Enjoys seeing how flustered she gets, how much she can handle before she gives in.

Moves too close, touches just lightly enough, murmurs things in a low, knowing voice—just to watch her reaction.

-Ah... Did you just shiver? Interesting…-

A notorious menace when she’s trying to focus on something else.

Studying? He’s whispering in her ear.

Cooking? He’s nipping at her neck.

Talking to someone else? He’s tracing patterns on her skin absentmindedly.

-Oh, don’t mind me, I’m just here adoring my wife. Continue.-

However… he’s also the softest.

Holds her like she’s made of something sacred.

Knows exactly how to touch her; when to be playful, when to be slow, when to just… be.

Worships the ground she walks on.

EXTRA: as a father

Chaotic dad.

Is the fun parent but somehow still responsible.

Can make a crying baby stop wailing just by pulling a funny face.

-Shhh, Daddy’s got you—what? No, I’m not panicking! I’ve handled worse—wait, is she supposed to cry like that? (Y/N)?!-

Teaches them all the worst habits.

-If you want extra dessert, just give your mother this look.-

But also the most loving.

-Do you know how much Daddy loves you? No? Let me count the ways—actually, never mind, it’s infinite.-

[saetiate]

Say, about your tiger hybrid reader post.....I can also resonate with this.

I am really curious about how Blue lock characters will be able to deal with this or not. If so then how ?....( Really into characters like Sae, Rin, Kaiser, Isagi , Luna, Nagi etc)

you have no idea how surprised i am to see luna in this list ahaha this post will have sae, kaiser, isagi bc i need more time to think for the others

sae

sae is very much a handler. he figures out what you like and don't like without you saying a thing and helps add things to his home that you'll actually enjoy, he's not afraid to let a wild thing run free. (where else are you going to go? he'll come collect you if he has to.)

the thing about sae is he's so neutral all the time. he's strangely endeared seeing your bite and your anger, unaffected by it as he pats your head and moves on. he treats you like any other pet, any other hybrid. even though you know inherently that you are not, that you are a predator first.

he's not dismissive of it, he knows and acknowledges it through the things he buys for you and the food he gives you. but it doesn't make him react differently to you.

it's like this to the point where you want him to react. something, anything. so you switch gears, and that's how the obedience rolls in. you settle down next to him, put your hands on the edge of his thigh, and all he does is look at you with a curious look.

what it takes feels ultimately humiliating in its own right: asking directly for it. he gives into you once you do, collects you onto his lap and rewards you for it. it makes warmth bloom inside of you, like sunlight on skin.

he makes you crave him, his comfort, his touch, until you never want to leave.

kaiser

kaiser's veryyy interesting i think, on one hand he coos at you despite your claws, on the other he's not afraid to fight back. he'll pin you down to the sofa if you try to take a swipe at him and he'll do it with ease and a shit-eating grin. "awh, kitty, wanna try again?"

he's not afraid. you've heard him before, if it's in physicality, he'll win, because he's had a much worse upbringing than most people. he knows what fight feels like intimately. but he's taken you in, so you're his. his problem kitty, through and through. take it out on him if you want, he'll even smile at you for it, until all that fight is drained out of you. and once that's all done, he'll dote on you.

"got it all out then?" he'll say it as he tends to the wounds you have, whether it's nails bitten down to the quick or light scratches from when you tried to fight him.

there's something freeing about having someone stay with you even with all your harshness. feels like forgiveness, finally receiving acceptance, for being what you are. he sticks with you through it all, earns your loyalty until you're putty in his hands.

isagi

isagi is good at heart and shows it. he has no hesitation trying to save an almost-dead thing on the streets. i think at first your ferociousness shocks him and you think oh that's it then. he's going to let you go. but he doesn't and after the first time it never shocks him again. you do it again and again to test him and he just cleans up the mess and pats you on the head. he takes your hands and sits you down with him on the couch asks you with gentleness what you need, what he can do for you.

if you tell him, he's grateful and he'll give you what you want. if you refuse to, he'll continue to hold space with you and work it out on his own. either way, he's learning you, adjusting to you.

he's ultimately so forgiving that you give in. kindness comes easily to isagi, so does understanding others, finding out what to say or do to ultimately relax you. he's never angry, he's worried about you. being extended a kindness like that over and over again… it deserves to be returned, doesn't it?

other tiger hybrid reader things: this , a short sae x reader thing for it , tangentially related to this

[quietwingsinthesky]

I’m not one for soulmates AUs but bobbyrufus soulmate AU of the ‘you have the last words your soulmate will ever say to you on your body somewhere’ kind.

[itoshiexx]

when you're mad and use their full name

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you���re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 ��𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[muzansfangs]

You tell them you got a brazilian wax by a guy.

Starring: Choso Kamo x f!reader; Kento Nanami x f!reader; Higuruma Hiromi x f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, dirty innuendos, fluff, jealousy, established relationships, nipple play, spanking, playfully biting the partner arses, oral sex (reader!receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, creampie, face sitting, unprotected sex;

Plot: A trend on Tik Tok made you plot a devious plan to make your beloved boyfriend going mad. He knew you had an appointment for a brazilian wax. He obviously assumed you were going to be assisted by a woman. How will he react, when you tell him it was a man? Will his jealousy go too far? Will your prank get you in a bad situation?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Choso Kamo.

Choso’s lips glided down your neck, nipping, sucking onto the flesh with the same care a potter would handle his fragile new creation. This man was genuinely head over heels for you. Ever since his little brother had introduced you two, Choso had found a new reason to live and, supposedly, be a better person. He had learned so much about human interactions, about feelings and even about intimacy. While he was not properly addicted to sex, this man loved being inside of you more than anything. He needed to touch your soft skin, he needed your warmth around him. That evening was not that different from an ordinary one.

His hands were cupping your breasts, fondling them, thumb and index rolling your handened nipples to elicit from your throat the soft moans he loved to hear from you so much. You did not fail his expectations. You cried out, head lolling back against his shoulder in ecstasy.

“Sing for me, babe” Choso mumbled, your insides clenching around his shaft deliciously as he slowly bucked his hips up to stimulate you.

The squelching sounds filling the room were making your head spin, eyes fluttering to enjoy the sensations to its fullest. You hated pissing him off, you really did, but above anything else you loathed causing his heart to ache. Still, that trend was too tempting not to try it on your sweet boyfriend.

You hummed, sinking down further onto his cock to meet his lazy thrusts “Louder? I don’t want the neighbours to complain again, Choso” you replied breathless, tilting your head to the side to kiss his cheek. Your hand reached towards his left hand, giving it a squeeze, before guiding it down towards your pubes.

Choso groaned, fingers grazing the smooth skin in delight, while he reached down to flick your throbbing clitoris dilegently “They can burn in Hell, baby. — he promptly said, smiling against your neck — All I care about it you and this sweet pussy of yours. Gosh, I can’t wait to taste your orgasm later” he praised you, causing you to shriek for a deeper thrust of his hips.

“Yeah? Is it that sweet, babe? I got to tell Akio then. I couldn’t describe its flavour to him today” you blurted out, only for Choso’s smile to disappear.

Choso.exe stopped working.

His movements halted, his eyes darkening as he grasped your chin to turn your head in his direction. Lying to his face was going to be hard, especially since he had put up such a puppy face that your heart ached in your chest.

“Akio? Who’s Akio?” Choso asked you, his voice low and a tad serious.

“The guy who waxed me today. Did I forget to mention him to you?”.

“Akio is a guy, isn’t he?”.

You giggled, booping his nose affectionately “Sure he is, silly. What’s with that?”.

Choso huffed, the tips of his ears turning pink as he embraced your tighter “A guy… Did you let another boy look at your pussy? Babe, why? Tell me that’s not true! You would never let anyone touch your—” he wept and you could swear tears brimmed in his eyes. Oh no, that was enough. You could not keep it up anymore.

You sighed, shaking your head vigorously “No! It’s a joke, Choso, please! I’ve been an idiot! Forgive me, baby! Look at me” you interrupted him, pressing your forehead against his one.

Choso relaxed, his breath still kind of irregular as he palmed his forehead in distress. You had really scared him. He could not still bear with jealousy. Apparently, he was not the type to go mad. Choso was too kind-hearted for that. Dealing with feelings was still hard for him. His lips captured yours, gently, holding you close as he relished the feeling of being in your arms.

“Don’t do it again” he whispered and you nodded your head in agreement. Poor Choso, struggling with jealousy.

Higuruma Hiromi.

This man was born to give you oral. Underneath you, head squeezed by the fat of your thighs, your dripping core bare for him to lavish with his tongue and your clitoris for his nose to stroke, Hiromi could happily die. The sweet sounds you made, the way you rolled your hips for facilitate the way he lapped at your folds with flat of his tongue were such a delicacy. If he was asked about a good way to die, the stressed out lawyer would have decidedly declared you his designated executioner and welcomed your pussy as his deathbed.

Now, sitting on his face, hands scrambling up to hold onto the metal bars of the bedhead, you whimpered out his name in bliss. The pleasure was so intense your obnubilated mind was neglecting the plan, your thirst for him not quenching in the slightest when you felt the tip of his tongue slip in between your smooth, slippery folds.

“H-Hiromi! Gosh, don’t stop” you drawled out, back arching as his hands, sprawled over your arses, squeezed onto the rounded globes in unbridled possessiviness.

He had no intention to stop, not even as his chin and nose were coated onto a glistening mixture of your juices and his own saliva. This was not a simple way to cherish your moments with him, this was downright his favorite addiction. Hiromi did not really care if you skipped your appointment with the beautician. He frankly appreciated how much care of your body you had, but he had never asked you to get a wax. Never. Still, when you did, he could not deny how much he loved the way his tongue smoothly skimmen over your silky folds.

“Ride my nose harder, baby” he rasped, his cock twitching in his pants as you shifted upwards, following his command eagerly.

You inhaled sharply, eyes downcast to peer down at your husband’s face barely visible from underneath your thighs. The timing was perfect. Eyes screwed shut, Hiromi was gradually guiding your hips back and forth to help you rub your swollen clitoris over his prominent nose. Waves of electricity ran through your veins, as you let out a pathetic whine. Now, or never, you had to drop the bomb before it was too late.

“I don’t think there’s a single hair left, right?” you breathed out, Hirmoni’s teeth nipping gently at your labia with a huff.

“Not even a single one… — your husband rumbled out — Not that I’d mind anyway” he whispered, mouth opening to leave wet kisses on the inside of your thigh. You two were making a mess.

You shivered, biting down onto your lower lip to concentrate better before shattering that poor man’s world with a single sentence “Yeah, I know, Hiroshi did such an amazing job”.

Hiromi’s assualt on your heat ended instantly. Hooded eyes opening, a knot creasing his forehead, he glanced up at you inquisitively “You meant Hiroko, not Hiroshi. I sincerely hope so”.

“No, I meant Hiroshi. — you countered back, breath still uneven as you wiped away the sweat beading your forehead with the back of your hand — Hiroko got down with a cold, he’s in charge of the beauty center now. I probably forgot to fill you up with the news” you replied, trying to sound convincing as Hiromi just stared blankly up at you.

Maybe it was just your impression, but the atmosphere around you, once charged with sexual tension, grew gloomy, almost chilling. His finger slipping into your core all of sudden made you choke out a screech of surprise, pleasure and discomfort engulfing your lower abdomen as you gawked down at him.

“Don’t talk. Not a single word unless I demand you to speak” Hiromi flatly said, curling his finger into you unforgivingly slowly.

You gaped in shock, legs almost giving up as he shoved another finger into your sappy hole, his eyes darkening as he assessed your reaction. He could not believe you had waited up until that very moment to tell him such a thing! You, his muse, his reason to wake up in the morning, you had let another man touch his nest.

“Did this man touch my home? Did you let him graze his fingers over your pubes, down to your labia, spreading them for him to enjoy the view?” he interrogated you, his tone sharp and cold, taking the same edge it did when he was in a courtroom. This was a problem. You knew you had to stop that circus.

You cried out, lips parted, as you shook your head “H-Hiro! It was a joke! It was a joke, I swear!” you fretted, watching with glee as his expression relaxed and he slided his fingers out of you.

You did not register how he slipped out from between your thighs, pushing your face down onto the pillow as he bit down onto your arse. All you knew was that, when he finally was deep inside of you, his mouth neared your ear and he got back at you from your silly staunt “Let me fill you up with something better than a fib, hm?”.

Nanami Kento.

Large and calloused hands gripping your hipbones, cock stretching you out deliciously, you did your best not to reach your climax right away. Kento Nanami, the best partner you could have ever asked for, was taking his sweet time with you. His hips smacked against yours in a firm, steady pace, as you almost drooled over the polished wooden surface of the desk.

Sex after he came back from his small work trips was the best. Passionate, intense, the lust blinding you two all of a sudden. This time, it had washed over you, when he had seen you saunter towards him all dolled up for a dinner out. A dinner he had promised you before leaving and a dinner you were probably going to be late for.

“I missed you. Wholeheartedly. Waking up alone sucks” Kento stated, burying himself into you to the hilt.

You moaned out, nails scraping the wood as you pushed back against him, squeezing him up perfectly to enjoy the way his girth made itself space within your walls. You were absolutely in a frenzy, your make-up ruined, as you rested your cheek against the desk.

“I missed you too, oh so much” you replied, breath uneven as he leaned down to plant a kiss onto your nape, thrusting slowly into you, making love instead of fucking. This felt just perfect, so perfect that, if it was not for him speaking up, you would have forgotten completely about the devious plan you had in mind.

“You even waxed for me, huh?” he whispered, causing you to tighten up around him again and for your husband to grunt in pleasure.

“You shall t-thank Noboru for the last minute appointment he agreed on” you blurted out, Kento’s eyes widening at your words. A shot through the heart would have felt less painful.

A man had seen his wife’s pussy? Oh, that was impossible. He was probably too tired and had misheard your words. The Hell with that, he was never tired when he was with you. Kento Nanami had heard you correctly. He cleared his throat, hips still, whilst he gazed down at you.

“Noboru?”.

You swallowed forcefully, glancing at him from above your shoulder “Yeah?”.

“Are you perhaps implying you lied down on a couch, legs wide open, to let Noboru touch your pussy?” he inquired, voice calm and collected, even if his grip on your hips was getting bruising.

You nodded your head “And what if I did?”.

“Then I will accompany you the next time you want to get waxed. — Kento replied, giving you a warning thrust that made your breath hitch in your thraot — You know, I would not want our dear Noboru to just imagine the filthy sounds your pussy makes, when I fuck it. Let’s give him a show, darling. What do you say? Would he like to watch me fuck you?” he asked you, resuming his relentless pace.

His hand landing harshly onto your rear caused you to whimper out, sweat beading your forehead, as you regretted your choice to tease your beloved husband. His silent, latent jealousy was turning out to he too hot to handle. He caught a glimpse of you trying to open up your mouth to admit it was all a lie, but he shushed you with another spank.

“Hush, sweetheart. — he cooed, your whines a melody he would have never get tired of — I know you were joking. But we both were serious about trying to have a kid, right? Let’s start tonight. Fuck the dinner, I’ll cook for you later” he rasped out, increasing the pace of his thrusts.

Oh, dear, your wobbly legs and the hot seed dribbling down the inside of your thighs were the signs the only two men allowed to see you naked were your husband and your gynecologist.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I always feel so giddy when I write for JJK. Hopefully, you’re going to enjoy this piece. I don’t think you guys will get a part two soon, but I do not close the door to that possibility.

Anyway, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @axesfordays @areyouflying

[kissitbttr]

“i’m sorry baby” simon murmurs against your warm skin, large hand coming up to palm your breast under the material of your shirt as he watches you squirm under his hold, fingers kneading your nipple.

“you hurt me, si…” you whine, doe eyes looking at him as you sniffle. “i hate you”

he hums with a nod, peeling your shirt off just enough to expose your naked chest. “i know baby, i know.. was a dick to you, yeah?”

you don’t answer, covering your face with your hands as he continues to pepper kisses down to your stomach. your quiet sobs make simon’s heart breaks.

“fucking asshole”

that almost makes him laugh, but he doesn’t. only smiles. “i was”

“a bastard you are”

he kisses your clothed cunt. “i agree.”

you shudder at the contact, whining. “careful. i just waxed there. I’m a little sensitive.”

he groans. he swears you’re doing that on purpose. “i will sweetheart.”

his fingers move to pull your laced panties down, ever so slowly. his hunger increases the moment his brown eyes settled on your pretty wet pussy.

“christ” he breathes out. “gonna make it up to you, pretty girl. i promise.” he sits up on his knees, looking down at you. glossy eyes looking up at him with a small pout formed on your lips. his cock growing hard under his briefs

‘fuck, don’t look at me like that�� he thinks to himself

puffing out a scoff, you reply “doesn’t mean I’ll forgive you for this si”

he knows. he hurt you. his pretty girl. he made you cry and that’s something he would never forgive himself too. that fight was stupid, he knows that now.

“i know, sweetheart” he pulls the waistband of his boxers slightly, just enough to take his hard cock out before hovering your body. a small gasp escapes your lips when his the tip of his shaft make a brief contact against your cunt. “i didn’t mean to make you cry. was a proper dick. hurting my baby like that, yeah? what kind of a man am i.”

he gives a soft kiss on your lips in which you hum, eyes fluttering shut. he wraps his hand around his cock, pumping it a few times before guiding it to your wet entrance while putting his other palm beside your head to support his weight.

you bite down your lower lip trying to suppress a moan when he slides the tip up and down your cunt. mumbling a low ‘fuck’ at the slicky sound of your wet cunt. another loud groan rumbles off his chest when his cock slips in. simon stays still for a while before he sits up straight, hooking his hands underneath your knees, telling you to wrap your legs around his waist.

“gonna fuck you real good, ma” the term of endearment almost makes you cum. as he begins to rock his hips back and forth. he watches you arch your back, soft hands gripping around your tits with pretty moans falling off your lips like an angelic prayer. he growls at the perfect sight, making him thrust even faster.

“show you how sorry i am”

[flwrstqr]

HONEY, HONEY ⠀ ⟡​⠀ WHEN THEY WANT YOUR ATTENTION ───𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

𝓲⠀⠀ ⦂ enhypen & fem!rea 𝑖𝑛 8OO fluff one shot head canon 警告 cursing, skinship, petnames, jealousy & click . . ( 𝓲ssue )

다니 ⠀⦂ ⠀this is dedicated to juni & annachu (> <) i know i alternated the title a bit & the prompt... but hope you guys enjoy xoxo. also thank you jenn for help on certain members 💌

LEE HEESEUNG

"baby, don’t you think you’ve talked about that guy enough?” heeseung pouts, arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face into your neck. “i mean, sure, he helped you with your project, but did he hold your hand while you stressed over it? did he kiss your forehead and tell you you’re the smartest, prettiest person ever? no? exactly.” he leans back, eyes narrowing playfully. “i bet he doesn’t even make you laugh like i do. does he send you good morning texts? compliment your hair? tell you how much he adores you?" he intertwines your fingers, bringing them to his lips with a pout. "face it, angel, no one loves you like i do," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your jaw. "so how about we focus on me now, hmm?"

PARK JAY

jay doesn’t say it—he never does—but you know. you feel it in the way his arm drapes over your shoulders, effortlessly pulling you against his warmth as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand. in the way he tucks your hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering for just a second too long. in the way he exhales softly, setting his phone down as if nothing else in the world matters except you. "let’s go out," he murmurs, voice low, but there’s no second-thinking. an expensive dinner, a shopping trip where he never lets you check the price tags, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you through every store. you don’t have to ask, don’t have to wonder—because when jay wants your attention, he gives you all of his first.

SIM JAKE

“baby, look at me,” jake whines, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “why aren’t you paying attention to me? i’m right here.” his lips graze your skin, warm and teasing, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. “you love me, don’t you? then love me properly,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek, hands roaming your back in slow, lazy circles. when you hum in response, still distracted, he groans dramatically, placing his head onto your lap. “you’re so mean to me,” he sulks, his voice muffled. “just wanna be spoiled by my baby. is that too much to ask?” he lifts his head, eyes big and pleading. “one kiss, and i’ll forgive you.”

PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is shamelessly competitive when it comes to you, and it’s honestly hilarious. the moment another guy dares to make you smile, he’s swooping in. “your hair looks really nice today,” some guy says, and before you can even respond, sunghoon’s already cutting in, sliding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “nice? angel, you look like you just stepped out of a dream. actually, scratch that—you are the dream.” his voice is smooth, like he’s making sure you don’t even think about entertaining someone else’s compliment. when the other guy laughs, trying again with, “you have a really pretty smile,” sunghoon scoffs, tilting your chin up. “of course she does. it’s the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen, and, by the way, i’m the reason she's smiling.” he smirks, eyes flickering to you, desperate for confirmation. “right, baby?”

KIM SUNOO

sunoo is so dramatic when he wants your attention, and he makes sure you know it. he starts with a loud, exaggerated sigh, arms crossed as he leans against you. when you don’t react fast enough, another sigh—longer, heavier. finally, you glance at him, and there he is, bottom lip jutted out in the deepest pout, eyes wide and pleading. “baby…” he whines, nudging his head against your shoulder. “you’ve been ignoring me for so long.” (it’s been five minutes.) when you try to hold back a laugh, he only pouts harder, leaning in until his face is this close to yours. “don’t you feel bad? look at me,” he insists, tilting his head. “my lips are a bit lonely today.” and oh, he’s expecting it now, tilting his chin up ever so slightly, waiting for you to finally give in and kiss the pout away.

YANG JUNGWON

you barely register the way jungwon tugs at your wrist until you suddenly find yourself pulled onto his lap, his arms circling around your waist with ease. “baby—what are you doing?” you laugh, but he only hums, resting his chin on your shoulder like this is the most natural thing in the world. “you weren’t paying attention to me,” he mumbles, voice laced with the smallest pout.you huff, pretending to be annoyed, but the way your heart races betrays you. “you could’ve just asked, you know,” you murmur, but he shakes his head, squeezing you a little tighter. “this is better,” he grins, tilting his head up to meet your eyes. “now you have no choice but to focus on me.” and when he nuzzles into your neck, you know he’s already won.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“baby, pay attention to me,” riki whines, snatching your phone right out of your hands with that smirk. he holds it high above his head, effortlessly out of reach, and you groan, standing on your tiptoes to grab it. “oh? trying so hard, huh?” he teases, laughing as you struggle. determined, you lunge up, but just like every cliché romcom, your foot slips, and before you know it, you're crashing right into him—chest to chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around you. “woah, princess, if you wanted to be in my arms, you could’ve just asked,” he chuckles. you glare, cheeks burning, but he only tightens his hold, grinning down at you. “you’re cute when you’re flustered,” he muses, finally handing your phone back—only to boop your nose and whisper, “but i’m still the only thing you should be looking at.”

[nanamisgirly]

imagine nerd!Choso, you both are in the same degree. he didn't really noticed you at first but, for some unknown reasons, he kept bumping into you— wether in the hallway or you'd be few rows in front of him during lectures. And just like that, he developed an obsession toward you. and might god forgive him, but he couldn't help jerking off his cock at the thought of his length disappearing between your lips, eyes flickering up at him with a teasing glint. he was kind of sad you didn't even know he existed :/

but how lucky! in one of your lesson, the teacher assigned a partnered project. and fortunately, the duo were made with a randomized system!! Choso did not think twice, with some quick manipulation on his computer, he paired himself…with you! almost too easy

on your side tho, you had never heard the name Choso before. So when you reached out to set up a time for the project, you didn't expect much of it. But now…sitting across from him…his wide figure looming over the table, inked arms straining against the ridiculous tightness of his shirt…that was another story. How hadn't you noticed such a pretty face?? sharp eyes lined with kohl, two messy buns with some rebellious strands framing his beautiful features, and perfect dark purple painted nails tapping against the table. ‘am i blind or sum?’ you wondered. 

nerd!Choso was originally awkward with social interaction but more so when it came to you. He clears his throat "I- uh," he started, voice trembling "f-for the work, would you like t-t- to…" his cheeks flushed an adorable pink as you stared at him, giving him time to formule his thoughts ‘such a cute boy’ you mused.

"we can do it at my home!" he suddenly blurted out, words rushed, as if the poor man hadn’t said it now, he never would have :( "i- i mean, t-the assignment! o-of course..." he was so embarrassed of himself, his hands nervously cupping his warm milk chocolate "if— if you want to.." his eyes darted anywhere but yours, unable to hold your gaze. not when you were looking so intently, like you were seeing right through him. because what if you had some superpowers, the kind to read his horny thoughts, the kind to know exactly how many times he fucked his fist to the image of your pretty mouth stuffed full of his aching cock. catastrophe!!!!

nerd!Choso was blushing furiously, messier, stuttering over his words more than usual when you were unconditionally giving your best to give the man a gooood ride. “p-p-please” he whined, voice breaking. You leaned in, your breath warm against his ear “tell me, my pretty shy boy…what are you begging for, hmm? use your words, pretty". 

choso's hands gripped your thighs like a lifeline, fingers digging into your skin. “y-you— mngh, it's— it's too good. i can't last— i— please,” he choked out, eyes glossy as you slammed your hips down harder. His happy trail rubbed against your clit with every grind. the friction giving you as much pleasure as him.

“preeetty boy," you cooed, trying to maintain your composure despite having his fat dick stretching you enough to see stars. “is this what you've been thinking about the whole year? me riding you? or even better,” your mouth went for his neck, licking softly, contrasting with the pulsing grip of your cunt, milking his cock. "touching yourself to the thought of my glossy lips wrapped around your pathetically big dick ?" your voice was so sensual "tell me, tell me and i'll give you what you want” that man was moaning, the sluttiest moans escaping his throat. in response, your walls clenched harder, trying to suck him in even deeper at this point. “i— i was— i mean, i- fuckfuckfuck" choso were sure he lost the ability to form a simple sentence, his head falling back as he felt his tip kissing your cervix. but he tried his best to continue "i— i was…pumping my— my cock at the- mngh, thought o-of you..t-takin' me…d-d-deep,” poor boy was losing his mind. You've never seen a man being that pussy drunk, so openly lost into you, that was addicting.

your fingers trailed over his inked pecs, moving along the curves of his tattoos making their way to his nipples, and you pinched. not too rough to hurt but enough to send jolts of pleasure through his body. “look at this good boy," you sighed, feeling choso throbbing inside you. "earned the right to cum inside me… would you like that?”. 

you loved teasing him. he was a total whimpering, fucked out mess beneath you. ‘so cute’

nerd!Choso was as sure as the sky is blue that you had superpowers, somehow. and you both sure as well scored a beautiful A on the assignment.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[fangdokja]

One of them wants to marry you. The other wants to make sure he never does.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Various! Otome Isekai Characters x Fem. Reader

♡ Word Count. 3,171

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who has always been entitled to everything—land, power, wealth, and most importantly, you. His right to you is absolute, written in blood and ink across every history book that dares to speak of the royal line.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who was never promised anything but carved his way through battlefields, knee-deep in the viscera of fallen foes, until he stood before you. Not by birthright, but by the sheer will to survive where others fell.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who sits beside you, hands clasped over yours like a steel shackle. "You don't need to lower yourself to common filth," he murmurs, gaze locked on the War Hero. "You were made for palaces, not trenches."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who only grins, boots kicked onto the palace table, still stained with the dried blood of a hundred men. "And you were made to sit on your ass while others do the killing. Forgive me if I find that unimpressive."

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who tightens his grip on your fingers, a barely restrained tremor running up his arm. "You’re nothing but a hound."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who flashes a wolfish smirk. "And yet, she feeds me scraps. Doesn't that make you feel insecure?"

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince whose smile is all polished gold but whose rage is a quiet execution. "The difference between you and me, mongrel, is that I own what I love."

♡ Yandere! War Hero who laughs like the last dying breath of an enemy. "And yet, here she sits, leaning towards me. Looks like your leash slipped, your highness."

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who has held a blade to his general’s throat for less.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who doesn’t flinch at the Crown Prince’s threats because he’s had worse. The last man who tried to kill him succeeded—for five minutes, before he was dragged back to life by battlefield surgeons who stapled his soul to his bones.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who is obsessed with the way you placed your palm against his blood-slicked cheek after he returned from battle, as if he were still human, as if war had not made him something else entirely. Who still hears your voice over the screams, the thunder, the cacophony of steel meeting flesh. He doesn’t believe in destiny, but he believes in you.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who stares, seething, as you sit beside the War Hero, dabbing at a cut along his jaw. His fists clench.

“You forget your place, soldier,” the Crown Prince hisses, voice low, dangerous.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who meets his gaze, unbothered. “And you forget yours, my lord. You are the heir to a kingdom. I am the shield that keeps you from wearing your guts like a sash.”

“You think that shield will protect you from me?”

The War Hero shrugs. “Try and find out.”

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who very much would love to, if not for your hand on the War Hero’s wrist, grounding him, soothing something feral just beneath his skin. That is what enrages him most. Not the defiance. Not the insolence. But the fact that it’s working. That you can calm the storm with a touch.

♡ Yandere! War Hero who smirks, tilts his head. “She chose me.”

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who intends to undo that mistake with blood and fire.

———

♡ Yandere! Archduke who catches you at the opera, dressed in silver and moonlight, sitting in his private box like you belong to him. And then there’s a crash—

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who swings from the rafters like a damn circus act, landing with a bow as if breaking into an event full of armed guards is just another Tuesday.

“Really? This is your plan?” the Archduke drawls, unimpressed. He lifts a glass of wine as if toasting to the sheer audacity. “You thought you could just waltz in here and steal her?”

“Oh no, Your Grace,” the Master Thief grins, flashing something sharp and gleaming between his teeth. “I don’t waltz. I prefer the tango. More hands-on.”

A gunshot. The Master Thief dodges. Your ears ring. The opera continues. Nobody reacts. The nobility is used to bloodstains on the carpet.

♡ Yandere! Archduke who never misses a shot but isn’t aiming to kill. No, he’s aiming to maim.

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who laughs, dashing across the balcony with inhuman agility, plucking a jewel-encrusted knife from an unfortunate lord’s throat. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

♡ Yandere! Archduke who sneers. “Says the one who thinks theft is a love language.”

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who winks. “It is when you do it right.”

♡ Yandere! Archduke who places a gloved hand over yours. “She isn’t yours to steal.”

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who twirls the stolen dagger. “Then let’s see if she wants to be taken.”

You, who really just wanted to enjoy the damn opera.

♡ Yandere! Archduke who burns down an entire village because you let the Master Thief steal a kiss from you. "Collateral damage," he sighs, boot on the charred remains of someone’s grandmother. "Next time, I’ll aim for a city."

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who breaks into your chambers nightly, the smell of fresh blood and stolen perfume lingering in the air. "Shame about the guards," he grins, slipping a diamond ring onto your finger. "It’s a perfect fit. Like it was always meant to be there."

♡ Yandere! Archduke who sits on his throne, dagger in his palm, knuckles white. "You reek of him," he murmurs, voice colder than the corpses he stacked just to see you smile. "Tell me. Did he make you laugh?" His grip tightens, knuckles cracking. "I’d rather tear out your tongue than let you amuse another man."

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who laughs at the execution order with his name on it, flipping the royal decree between his fingers like a cheap playing card. "It’s cute, really. You think bars can hold me? Your Archduke should know by now—I steal more than just gold."

♡ Yandere! Archduke who drags you to the highest tower, the wind howling like the ghosts of everyone he's butchered in your name. "Look down. See that? That’s what happens when you pick the wrong man." He tilts your chin up with the edge of his blade, smile thin as a razor. "Luckily for you, I’m still willing to forgive. If you beg."

———

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who doesn’t need to see through dimensions to know when a threat is coiling around you like an unseen parasite. Who can taste betrayal like an iron tang in the air. Who can hear the pulse of magic in every living being, except when you smile at him, because that? That is utterly dead inside.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who materializes in a crack of golden light, robes billowing with unspoken fury, and says, "Ah. So you’ve taken to harboring rats in your bed. How quaint. Should I fetch the plague doctor, or would you prefer to let it fester?"

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who grins at him from his place on your couch, casual as a corpse cooling on the battlefield. Who doesn’t bother to get up, just keeps one hand on your thigh like a brand, like a claim, like he’s daring a man who can rewrite reality to try something.

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who lifts a hand and waves lazily. "Well, if it isn’t the arcane psychopath. I was wondering when you’d show up. You always get so twitchy when she has company."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who doesn’t react, because he doesn’t need to react. The air warps with unspoken threats. Your entire apartment creaks, the walls tightening as if reality itself is afraid of what he will do. "Your presence here is a mistake, spy. One I am going to correct."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who exhales, all long-suffering patience, and pats your knee. "See, this is why we can’t have a healthy social life, sweetheart. Your little pet magician thinks anything that breathes near you is a threat."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who steps closer, not bothering to touch the ground, because why should a god walk when he can hover like the nightmare he is? His voice is a blade wrapped in silk. "That is because everything near her is a threat."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who rolls his eyes, leans in closer to you, and mutters, "He’s not wrong."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who obliterated an entire country in a fit of rage once. Who still has the map with that nation’s name scribbled out in blood. Who claims it was a scientific experiment in large-scale elemental magic. Who insists it had nothing to do with the fact that you had been taken there as a prisoner of war.

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who personally designed the magical chains shackling the enemy spy to his dungeon wall. Who carved sigils into his flesh with a surgeon’s precision. Who watches, with the detached amusement of a scholar, as the spy’s body twists and heals around the enchantments. Who calls it "an intellectual curiosity." Who calls it "a favor" to you.

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who sneers through bloodied teeth. Who only laughs when Supreme Mage’s spellwork attempts to break his mind. Who survived the war solely on instinct, subterfuge, and the kind of unholy endurance that makes lesser men shudder. Who grins, sharp and defiant, as he croaks, "You should let her decide, shouldn’t you?"

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who nearly detonates the entire fortress at the mere suggestion.

"Decide?" His voice is an earthquake barely contained. His robes ripple like liquid shadow, edged in embers. "What is there to decide? A parasite does not negotiate its way into a host’s body. A stray dog does not ask to be let inside. You think yourself an equal? A competitor? You're a mistake of nature, a statistical anomaly."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who only grins wider, spitting blood onto Supreme Mage’s pristine white marble floor. "You sure talk a lot for someone who’s scared."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who moves too fast to track. One moment he’s across the room, the next his hand is buried in the spy’s chest, fingers curled around his still-beating heart. Who leans in, slow, deliberate, his breath scalding. "I could make you forget her name," he whispers. "I could wipe every last thought of her from your mind. Your love, your obsession, your entire self—gone."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who, despite the pain, despite the mind-breaking agony, still smirks. "And yet," he wheezes, "you haven’t."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who yanks his hand back, seething, as the spy collapses into ragged, victorious laughter. Who turns to you, his golden eyes alight with something feverish, something frantic. "Say it," he commands. "Tell him he is nothing. Tell him he does not exist to you."

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy, gasping, wheezing, forcing himself to sit up. "Or..." he rasps, tilting his head, "tell him you like me better."

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who is one syllable away from setting the entire continent on fire.

———

♡ Yandere! Demon King who built his empire on charred corpses and centuries of conquest. Who sits upon his throne of ivory bones, fingers idly tapping against an armrest carved from the skull of a fallen archangel. Who looks at you like a relic from a past life, something fragile, something beloved, something that must be locked away lest the world taint you. Who commands with absolute authority, but speaks your name like a prayer, like a secret only he should be allowed to know.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who has killed more kings than he can count, but never this one. Who has worked at the Demon King's side for millennia, yet the moment you entered his line of sight, he knew he would tear down empires for you. Who moves in silence, in shadows, in the spaces between light and dark, but his voice is a rasp against your ear, whispering things he knows the Demon King will kill him for saying. Who stands with knives in both hands, one for his enemies, one for the man who dares to keep you from him.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not know the meaning of sharing. Who watches you speak to the assassin with a gaze so searing the air warps around him. Who clenches his jaw hard enough that his fangs pierce his own tongue, and the taste of his own ichor only fuels his fury. Who has conquered dimensions, obliterated civilizations, and yet the worst betrayal he has ever known is watching you, his beloved, listen to another man.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who has spent centuries perfecting the art of killing, but only now does he feel alive. Who watches the Demon King unravel with a sick sort of amusement, knowing he alone has gotten under his liege’s skin. Who stands just close enough to you, his presence a silent claim, his movements too fluid, too casual, as though daring the King to react. Who lets his fingers brush against yours when handing you a blade, his smirk widening as the Demon King’s aura cracks the stone beneath them.

The throne room is a masterpiece of destruction. The walls still drip with the remains of some poor fool who displeased him. The air is thick with the scent of burning marrow, but it is not enough to drown out the suffocating silence between the two men.

“You’re awfully bold today,” the Demon King murmurs, voice like smoldering embers. His clawed fingers drum against his throne, slow, deliberate, like a war drum before the first strike. His eyes, the color of old blood, do not leave you. “Are you enjoying this?”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who grins, unbothered by the killing intent in the room. “Immensely.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who stands, and the entire castle groans in response, the weight of his wrath fracturing the very foundation. Who does not appreciate amusement unless he is the one indulging in it. Who steps forward, each movement a barely restrained act of violence, a king whose patience has run dry.

“Come here,” he commands, but it is not to his assassin. It is to you. To his treasure.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who laughs under his breath, stepping in your way before you can move. “She’s not a dog, your Majesty.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King whose smile is a thin, sharp thing, carved from disdain. “No, but you are a corpse.”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who tilts his head, eyes gleaming. “Try me.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not lunge—kings do not lunge, kings do not brawl. No, he merely lifts a hand, and the walls explode with jagged obsidian, the floor splintering into a pit of hellfire at the assassin’s feet. The room screams with infernal energy, a tangible force meant to bring lesser beings to their knees.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who does not flinch. Who rolls his shoulders like this is a game and he is a predator that has just caught the scent of something fun. Who flicks his wrist and summons a thousand shadows, each one an extension of his will, a sliver of darkness with a killing edge.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who clenches his fist and the assassin’s shadows shatter.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who raises a brow, impressed but not deterred. “Touchy.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not take well to insolence. Who does not take well to you still standing beside the assassin.

You, who sighs in the middle of the impending bloodbath, utterly unphased. “Are you two done?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who turns to you like you’ve personally betrayed him. “You’re defending him?”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who smirks, nudging your shoulder with his own. “Adorable, isn’t it?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who snaps, his power manifesting in a cacophony of screams from the walls themselves. Who reaches for you, but the assassin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and yanking you into his grasp, pressing a blade to your throat—not to hurt you, never to hurt you, but to taunt the king.

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who grins against your ear, voice a ghost of amusement. “So, who do you think would win?”

♡ Yandere! Demon King whose eyes glow with hellfire, whose fangs glint like a beast denied its prey. “You will die screaming.”

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who kisses the top of your head, just to make it worse. “Maybe. But I’ll die with her.”

♡ Yandere! Demon King who does not like that answer. Not one bit.

———

But here’s the thing.

Did they really think you were an idiot?

You, who has watched their egos clash like titanic beasts, who has dangled yourself like a prized trophy between them, knowing full well what you were doing. You, who let them think they were winning.

You, who used every second of their pathetic posturing to plan your escape.

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who turns, realizing you’re gone—

♡ Yandere! War Hero who curses under his breath, scanning the battlefield—

♡ Yandere! Archduke who demands his spies find you immediately—

♡ Yandere! Master Thief who suddenly wishes he had locked you in a cage when he had the chance—

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who reaches out with his magic, only to find—nothing—

♡ Yandere! Enemy Spy who grins, because honestly? He saw this coming, and he's a little impressed.

♡ Yandere! Demon King who roars, shaking the very foundations of the underworld—

♡ Yandere! Demon Assassin who merely chuckles, licking a stray drop of blood from his blade.

You, vanishing into the night, leaving behind nothing but chaos, war, and the memory of a coldblooded glare.

After all… if you can’t fight the system, might as well use it.

Let them tear each other apart.

You? You have better things to do.

You walked away.

Free.

Fucking imbeciles.

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[void-my-warranty]

For @heavenbarnes

18+ Older bf!Simon who waxes your 🐱 for you (fem reader)

You originally bought the wax supplies to do it yourself, but it hurts. You get all sweaty and your hands start shaking after the second strip, finding it nearly impossible to push past the psychological aversion to pain.

Simon pokes his head into the bathroom, assuming by the gasps and whimpers that something completely different is happening in there. Nope, it’s just you, holding a popsicle stick in one hand and grasping your pussy with the other, trying to psyche yourself up for the next bit of wax.

It’s a learning curve, admittedly. His first time is a little patchy, and it takes a few strips to learn the correct angle that doesn’t tug your skin. But he improves rapidly after that, and you suspect he’s been watching some YouTube videos or something, because suddenly he’s laying the strips according to hair direction, and instructing you when to breathe in.

In no time it’s your monthly routine — you on the bed atop a towel, holding your knees open and cursing while he methodically tortures your poor pussy.

And the worst of it is when he keeps soothing away every rip with, “Aww, brave soldier, aren’t we? Breathe in, let me get this one quickly— Ahh, that’s a good girl.”

He never apologizes until the end, when he’s washed away the powder and gently rubbed some oil to your smooth, tingly skin. He finds your clit with his fingers and strokes it for you while he murmurs how sorry he is. He doesn’t like hurting you, but you did so well, and now you can just relax and let him make it up to you for a little while.

It doesn’t matter how much you whine and beg, he knows you’re not supposed to have any sexual activity right after a wax. You just get clean fingers, carefully avoiding the raw skin to dip into your fluttering pussy and rub your arousal into your hard little clit, again and again until you cum your forgiveness for him.

There, that’s better, isn’t it? What a pretty, satisfied pussy for him to admire. No, he doesn’t need anything in return. He can wait for a few days until it’s safe to give it some fucking. 🩷

Drabble masterlist

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way���” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[plethorawrites]

hey! what about clark who always makes you ride him because he’s afraid that with him on top he might hurt you cause he’ll lose control of his powers?

Oookkayyy. I believe I'm veering into some very precarious territory, lmao. But, yess, I do have thoughts! (NSFW content)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Despite the fact that Clark Kent was 6'3 (while slouching), 225 pounds, and otherwise incredibly built, he was perhaps the least physically intimidating person alive. In fact, he was practically terrified of his own features—the same ones that made you utterly melt.

It wasn't until you discovered his identity as Superman that you realized the reason his hands never actually touched you during hugs, and he preferred you holding his arm over holding hands with each other. He was afraid. He always had been, in a way, but it was usually manageable.

That was because he wasn't trying to pursue a relationship.

You were affectionate, craving attention in whatever form possible, from cuddling on the couch to just grazing his pinky with yours while at lunch. And you wished he would return it more than he did. He wanted to. He really did. It was just so damn hard when he was terrified to hurt you. He'd never forgive himself if he did something that harmed you in any way.

The more physical your relationship became, the harder it became to reduce contact to the minimum amount he could get away with. You wanted more and so did he. But he could crush you without even meaning to, break your bones by just holding your hips, maybe even something worse than both of those things.

No, if you needed intimacy, he would gladly give it to you, since he wanted it just as badly, but he'd refrain from doing anything that could cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort or harm. You, being on top, was the only sensible answer.

Not to mention, incredibly attractive.

You always were, but there was something about the angle, about him just laying there, staring at you, watching you get lost in your own euphoria that drove him insane. The way your hair kept falling into your face, your fingernails kept digging further into the skin of his shoulders or chest, how your eyes sparkled brighter than usual.

To say nothing of how you actually felt, your hips soft against his bare skin with every slight roll you made, grinding against him slowly to prolong your time together as long as possible.

He could barely handle your usual smile, but the one you were giving him right now, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress a little huff of laughter made his heart clench.

"What?" He wondered, his breathing a bit heavy. He was doing a terrible job of keeping his composure and was pretty sure you could tell.

You shook your head, your hands planted firmly on his chest while admiring the way his head always tilted when he was curious. "Nothing," you mumbled, the word taking a little while to find since you had to focus enough to remember how to speak. "You just..." Your lips pursed as one especially long drag of your hips made your breath hitch. "... You're like a pillow prince." You teased a moment later.

Clark's mouth dropped a little, in surprise but not offense. You weren't exactly wrong. He was laying there, his hands behind his head, watching you do all the work, like always. But it wasn't because he wanted to. In fact, he was itching to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his hands and it was taking all his restraint not to flip you over. He just couldn't risk it.

"Maybe I just like the view," he replied, his hips jerking up slightly when he felt you clench around him. His jaw tightened at the sensation, his eyes fluttering closed as he reveled in the feeling for a moment. "You—" he swallowed, his eyes opening. "—are you so perfect on top of me."

Another bashful smile spread across your face as you dropped your head and resisted the urge to move your hair, afraid that if he moved his hands, he'd lose control entirely.

"You like watching me struggle," you muttered, your hands moving to his shoulders to grip them tightly, your movements slowing to a stop, trying to catch your breath. "Admit it..." You panted. "... you're a sadist."

He laughed, his body shaking under you. "It's alright, sweetheart," he assured you. "You're doing good for me."

You hummed slightly at the praise, closing your eyes for a moment. "It's exhausting," you admitted, your legs killing you despite the enjoyment. "Always so... difficult."

"I know," he responded sympathetically, hesitantly removing his hands from behind your back, hovering them over your thighs for a while, contemplating before carefully setting his hands on them. He just couldn't resist anymore. You were too damn tempting.

You moved your hands to cover his, a small smile tugging at your lips. "You gonna help me, for once?" You murmur, trying to joke but failing. The words came out with too much lust for that.

He nodded slightly, focusing on making sure his fingers didn't accidentally dig into your skin too hard. "Tell me," he said seriously, staring into your eyes. "The second I take it too far."

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him. "You're not going to hurt me," you whispered. "I trust you."