#wish he actually didn't think the stream was over

[lesbian-gnf-archive]

i know that this has been dragged to hell and back but can we talk about how dream looked like he was milliseconds away from kissing george’s neck?? like what the fuck ? THAT’S NOT NORMAL bro has demons fr

NO I SRSLY THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO WHEN WATCHING IT LIVE

And every time I rewatch the clip just the way he moves his head Like ohhh wow he really wanted to Huh

[tamajiki2]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒!! 🫙 𝐒. 𝐀𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒;

student/teacher relationships,

facefucking, age gap, pred reader,

manipulation and blackmail, top reader,

hehim amab reader, general dark content.

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄.

it was a fucking mistake.

that was all aizawa could think of as he shakily knelt on the shiny white tiles that floored his office. sure, it was a mistake, but it was one he could actually feel. and best of all? it felt good.

a hazy night dancing with coworkers and a few too many drinks. terrible decisions, and groaning into the crook of someone's neck. a blurry face, and the hard imprint of a cock rutting against his back. he could hardly see anything, let alone remember. bright white and a loud, shuddering orgasm. he could've sworn he was floating.

however, his fun was promptly put to an end when he was met with one of his third-year students sitting lazily at the desk chair in his office the following morning.

"[ name ].", he warned.

you smiled. what you were so giddy about, aizawa wasn't in a hurry to find out. you were usually a quiet, mild-tempered kid who remained comfortably around his friends, and never behaved outside the norm of the average student.

he watched, puzzled, as you ignored his call and rested your legs on top of his desk.

so what was up with this brazen display of confidence?

"i don't think you understand the situation you're in, teach.", you chuckled and pulled your phone from your pocket. that fateful day, he was too wasted to recognize you and you were too horny— sorry, ambitious to reject this shining opportunity right in front of you. you turned the screen so that aizawa could see its contents clearly.

his heart dropped.

it was him, sprawled out on pure white sheets. his eyes were half-lidded and hair disheveled as he was fucked on camera. he looked like a mess. he hardly even had the sense to cover his face while the flash raked over his entire body.

you waved the phone around, watching aizawa's eyes follow it with a gaze of pure resentment. "sleeping with a student, mr. aizawa? gee, that's terrible. you could lose your job over something like that, you know?", you hummed, voice light and teasing.

aizawa opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

you continued, "it's alright though, i have no intention of telling. as long as you do me a teensy favor..." you gestured for him to come close and aizawa knew he had no choice. aizawa grit his teeth as you stood, now face to face with him.

"on your knees."

which brought him to now.

aizawa stared down at the floor when the familiar jingle of metal scraped at his ears. then, the rapid clinking sound of a zipper. a pool of dread filled his stomach. a long pause during which he didn't dare to look up.

two light slaps against aizawa's cheek. you were already hard. he couldn't miss the distinctive feeling of veins pulsing against his skin.

"open wide.", you singsonged, pressing your tip to aizawa's lips.

reluctantly, he did, and immediately wished he hadn't as you gagged him on his cock. you didn't waste a second setting a brutal pace. you gripped him harshly by the hair, groaning something about how sexy he was. but aizawa couldn't hear you over his own rhythmic choking. aizawa desperately grasped at your thighs.

"ghk—", his back was arching, body trying to struggle against your hold. his eyes were burning.

globs of saliva and pre streamed down his chin and splattered onto the floor. you fucked his throat pliant; aizawa could feel every trace and curve of your cock in his brain. you looked down at him and, god, that almost threw you over the edge. his eyes were sparkling and wet with tearful shame. he no longer had energy to glare at you. not like it would do anything anyway, with your thick dick down his gullet. stray hairs stuck to his face which framed it like a pornographic painting. aizawa kneaded the back of your thighs in a wordless plea. that only drove you further into your descent to orgasm.

he thought that he'd surely die at a particularly rough snap of your hips. you had tangled more of his hair into your grip, like a ponytail, and were punching the back of his throat. aizawa whined loudly.

"shit, you feel so good. 'm gonna cum."

you were rolling your hips now, instead of thrusting like before. aizawa thought that was worse. he was forced down to your hilt where he would stay for what felt like hours, gagging and swallowing around your cock while you humped impossibly deep into his skull.

you couldn't think of anything else except the feeling of his throat tightening around you. damn, he was addictive. you leaned over him further restricting his movements. there's a strangled noise from under you.

'it's almost over', he thought, but 'almost' didn't seem like 'almost' anymore as you began an onslaught more viscous than the last. aizawa found himself fading in and out of consciousness, his vision light and blurring. 

one last snap of your hips and you were buried deep into him. he felt your seed scorching his already-sore throat. you pulled away, absolutely relishing in the mess you made of shota aizawa.

a thick layer of fluids coated his face and dripped down the front of his longsleeve. while he coughed and spluttered for air, you felt oddly endeared to him. you gently massaged your hands through his hair.

"i'll see you later, teach.", you said sweetly.

again, the rustling of clothes followed by that metallic 'zzzip'. your sturdy hands left him and aizawa swallowed thickly. he was sure he looked terrible. he did his best to wipe away the worst of it with his sleeves. the fabric felt like knives dragging across his raw skin. he let out a deep sigh upon hearing your descending footsteps and the door slam shut.

he noted his next class starting in a few hours and grimaced. he'd have to hurry and clean up if he wanted to make it in time. beforehand, though— he looked down at the crotch of his pants that were dark and sticky with cum— he had a situation to deal with.

“shit.”

[ an; hey so let me know if you guys like this facefuck and aizawa mmm yum yum si or no ]

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend

tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark

It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.

"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.

"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.

"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"

You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.

"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"

You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.

"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.

"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.

"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.

"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"

"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"

He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.

"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.

But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.

"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."

You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.

"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."

"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."

[jji-lee]

as he sat on your pink fluffy couch, haechan wondered how the hell he got himself in this situation. he fidgeted in his seat, silence eating him alive. he looked up quickly, catching a glimpse of you before immediately ducking his head back down.

if he had known he'd been called over to get stared down by five very attractive individuals, he probably would've ignored the job offer and forced himself to live with the burden of poverty. you five had been looking over at him and whispering to one another for the past ten minutes, leaving him sat there, tense and sweaty.

.

he had been greeted at the door by the short pretty boy, huang renjun, kinda mean but nice enough to appear welcoming. and then he was guided into your bedroom by a taller bulkier male, lee jeno, kind smile but kinda intimidating. as he waited for "the boss" to be out of the bathroom (that's what everyone had been calling you), he was questioned by another pretty boy, na jaemin. he asked him about photography which helped ease his nerves.

"donghyuck, you're like a camera god, don't look so nervous, there's no one better for this job than you!"

he wish he knew what the job actually was, but he'd just have to wait for "the boss" to be ready. he also wishes that you'd hurry up because during the wait, a female had appeared. she was dressed in all black, outfit simple yet very fashionable, aeri uchinaga or giselle which she preferred to be called. hyuck avoided eye contact with her as best as he could, only mumbling a little hi, eyes focused on the super interesting piece of lint on his pants.

.

when you had finally come in hyuck made the mistake of looking up, swallowing thick as he stared you down. you were gorgeous wow, well you were all gorgeous, but you, you were something out of his wet dreams. your cute little outfit snug tight against your body, wait was that appropriate for a job interview?

"taaa-daaa!"

you spun around on your heels, hands on your hips as you posed for everyone to see. hyuck's mouth went dry as he watched you.

"stop putting on a show you're scaring the poor kid, hurry up so we can do the interview."

jaemin rushed you onto the bed facing hyuck. you leaned forward from your seat reaching your hand out to greet haechan.

"hey hyuck-"

he blushed at the nickname.

"nice to meet you, i'm y/n, the one actually hiring you."

he shook your hand quickly, pulling his own back like he had just been burned.

"nice to meet you too, y/n."

he avoided eye contact eyes drifting towards your cleavage as you bent in front of him. haechan shut his eyes bringing his hands onto his lap to hide his arousal, are you a fucking teenager get a grip! you giggled sitting back down on the bed as your other four friends joined you, and that's how it began.

.

haechan feels like he's been sitting there for hours listening to you all whisper, occasional pushes and shoves being exchanged between the five of you. renjun was the first to speak, clearing his throat before starting,

"i'm gonna be blunt with you lee donghyuck. y/n is a cam girl and we want you to record her streams for her-"

"and occasionally take her sexy twitter posts!"

"yes... like giselle said, and take pictures of her. she's going to be nude almost all of the time, or as close to naked as she can get. can you handle that?"

hyuck thinks maybe god hates him, or maybe he really loves him because what the actual hell is going on. he stared at the five of you eyes wide, processing what renjun had just said.

"look now you've scared him!"

jaemin slapped renjun's thigh, an apologetic smile on his face.

"i wish i could make this better for you donghyuck, but i don't think there's any way to sugar coat this."

haechan bit his lip, looking towards you.

.

you knew from the moment you had walked in that donghyuck had zero experience with women. the way he avoided eye contact and the way he stole glances at your breasts and bare legs. so the shock on his face at the job description was more than expected, what you didn't expect to feel so bad for him. he looked like a deer caught in headlights, ready to run away at the slightest threat.

"everyone out."

your friends looked at you confused as you pointed to the door.

"you heard me everyone out. now- no not you hyuck sit down."

you watched as he nervously sat back down, ready to leave at your command. your friends exchanged glances as they exited the room, unsure of what you were planning on doing.

.

haechan could feel the heat rise in his body as you shut the door behind them. why on earth did you want to be alone with him?

he tried to calm his breathing as he watched you kneel in front of him, placing your hands on his thighs, dick twitching at the touch, for the love of god lee donghyuck relax.

"hey, hyuck look at me, please?"

he sighed before raising his gaze to meet your eyes, a gentle smile on your lips.

"i know this sounds crazy, and i know i should have told you what the job was before you came."

he nodded in agreement, a giggle leaving you lips,

"so, lee donghyuck, right now i am y/n y/l/n the college student, but when i do my job i am craftykitty the camgirl."

wait- you were who? craftykitty? the camgirl that kept him up for countless nights, moaning into his pillows so his roommates wouldn't hear him? the camgirl that he spends hundreds of dollars on? his dream camgirl that is kneeled in front of his hands on his thighs? he stared at you with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"i've seen your work and i know you're capable of doing the job right hyuck, but it's up to you okay? i've been doing this cam stuff for a while but this is my first time actually telling someone who i am, so please if you don't want the job can you at least keep my identity a secret?"

.

you let out a nervous laugh, forgetting that donghyuck hadn't signed the NDA yet. what are you even rambling about telling a complete stranger your identity and you don't even know if he'll take the job-

"i'll do it."

now it was your turn to looked shocked. his cheeks were flushed and his nervousness was clear in the way he picked at the fur on your couch.

"i'll do it, just, i just need some time to adjust, i want my focus to be 100% through the lens, i'll be okay as long as i look at you through the camera."

you pushed yourself off the floor, a wide smile on your lips,

"perfect! we can do whatever you want hyuck! you can have that damn camera stuck to your eyes if you want!"

you sprinted towards the door hitting it harshly, yelps coming from the other side of it.

"i know you guys were listening! he said he'll do it! get the paperwork!"

you turned back to him quickly,

"how about we do some practice shots so you can get warmed up, hm?"

truthfully haechan wanted to say no, he wanted nothing more than to run back to his dorm and shove his hand down his pants, your face still clear in his mind. but as he looked up at your bright smile he fears that he might agree to anything you say, all you had to do was ask.

⋆₊˚⊹.𖥔 zoom, click, panic ! -> 3. chat spam mommy

previous -> masterlist -> next

notes: literally rewrote this like 10 times i am struggling guys 😭 i wrote like 3 midterm essays today i don't have brain power. but for nerd hyuck i will make an exception, hope you guys are liking it!

taglist : @sunghoonsgfreal , @hizhu , @axo-l0tl , @strawberrysavi , @hyuckiebb-blog , @hyucktion , @4yunogf , @jakesbubu , @gacktsa , @iheartjayke , @annoyednblax , @luvvhaechan , @dudekiss3r , @nanaxwi , @yesohhsehun , @prettybluei , @soobinbunnie5 , @hyucksunset , @peterm4rker , @byeonwooseokabs , @kodasity , @hyuckmoon , @catdonut657 , @lionzyon , @luvandletter , @defzcl , @nneteyamss , @222brainrot , @1lovejinki , @zzurao , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @docilismo , @cyjzzl , @livingdoll-hara , @this-is-lowkey-a-hyuck-fanpage , @ohwowzersthatscool , @babyjenono , @wonswondrland , @jenoleeaesthetic , @bananinhazz , @hyuckna25 , @doejaejung , @angeliqueiguess , @mymartiniblue , @aerivrs , @heyitsbreeeeee , @choizzn , @jae-n0 , @hyuckshinee

[lieutenantfloyd]

My Red Thread - Gambit x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: After being sent to the Void alongside your chaotic companions Deadpool and Logan, the very last thing on your mind is the rarity of a soulmate bond. That is, until yours snaps into place. (Soulmate! AU)

Warnings: Fluff, mutant! Reader (undefined powers), a bit of romantic tension, attempts at humor, Wade Wilson ruining The Moment™️

Authors Note: For some reason editing this took way longer than actually writing it did. I’m still getting a feel for the characters, so I apologize if anything is kinda ooc! :)

Read on AO3

Laying with your back against a mostly broken couch, you have a view of the full room, including a set of stairs that allow streams of sunlight to cascade in. Your eyes shift lazily between Logan—who's taking the opportunity to drink himself into oblivion— and Deadpool—who's closing out his second straight hour of snooping through drawers and cabinets.

When the three of you awoke in this new location hours ago, you almost instantly flew into a fit of arguing. First about how and why you were here, then about who would be the first to go up the stairs. After a much heated debate, the consensus became that an unknown person—agreed to be either the ghost of Johnny coming back to avenge himself or the vengeful, forgotten sister from earlier—brought you here for reasons that probably didn't end with any of you walking out of here alive.

Whoever it was most likely got the drop on you first, seeing as how you decided to try your luck at hitchhiking through the void instead of sitting around and watching your two companions tear each other, along with your only ride, to shreds. As for the situation with the stairs, a rare moment of agreement was shared when you decided to stand and fight whatever possible threat was lurking. Once that was decided you all assumed the positions you currently found yourselves in.

With each tick of the dusty clock on the wall, you were growing more and more impatient, You'd been fighting for your life, quite literally, from the moment Wade got you sent to the void. Now your adrenaline had all but crashed, leaving your body to scream in agony over being brought to the brink of death more times over the last twenty four hours than you’d ever care to count. It was at the point now that you honestly began to wish that whoever had brought you here would muster up the cajones and come finish you off for good.

As if on cue, you and Logan sat upright as you sensed movement outside. You rolled off the couch and joined Wade in the middle of the room, taking up fighting stances while Logan simply sat back in his chair and continued nursing the bottle of whiskey he found without a care in the world.

Prepping for yet another fight, you were left feeling as dumbfounded as Deadpool looked when Elektra descended into the room. Your hands stayed raised but your mind began to run with possibilities. Wade began a refreshed round of incessant rambling, not missing a beat as Blade followed Elektra into the room only seconds later.

Your eyes shoot over to Logan in an effort to ensure that someone a bit less prone to hallucinations than you and Deadpool were seeing this too. His eyes flash confirmingly to yours. You swallow hard, having a brief internal battle with the childhood version of you who apparently thinks that now is the best time to start fangirling.

Tuning out Wade's awkward banter, you try and piece together the situation unfolding in front of you together. You were well aware of how people got sent to the void, but you realized then that you never thought any deeper about who exactly you could run into during your stay.

With fatigue setting deeper into your bones, you lean your hip onto the dusty wood table beside you. You fall halfway out of your defensive stance and let Wade command the room as usual, tuning back into the conversation just in time to hear him make an oddly pointed quip about some man named Ben Affleck.

Picking up on more movement from above, your attention shifts across the room. Your eyes lock on the stairs as if glued there. You to watch on silently as a shimmery purple card floats into the room and a man follows closely behind. You barely have enough time to register the flashes of purple dancing away from his hands before a force you have never felt before—and have absolutely no interest in feeling again—slams so solidly into your chest that it sends you flying over the table you were leaning against.

"Fuck!" "Merde!"

You yell out in unison. Instinct has you pulling yourself up off the floor as soon as you hit it, albeit slowly, as you try to call the air back into your lungs. Using the table for support, you manage to raise up on shaking feet. The once busy room has now fallen deadly silent. Quiet in a way you hadn't experienced since joining up with Deadpool several months ago. You suck in a few intentional breaths before letting your head rise up from its hanging position.

"What the hell was tha-" you start, only to fall silent as you take notice of everyone's eyes flashing between you and a man who looks just as confused and winded as you do.

Time seems to slow as your eyes lock with his. A smaller blow hits you somewhere deep beneath your ribs, though this time you only stumble.

"Ho-ly shit!" Wade gasps, bringing his gloved hands up to his face and flicking his head back and forth dramatically between the both of you, no doubt starting to pick up on what's happening.

A second thrumming blooms in your chest then. It's equal parts similar and different from your own. Your mind nearly starts to panic, but it's silenced by something buried in your chemical makeup coming alive.

Wade drops his hands from his face, only to end up pointing at you like an old Spiderman meme.

"You two are-"

"Soulmates," you breathe out.

Absentmindedly, your hand rises to your chest. The feel of your soulmates' heart beating in time with yours is oddly comforting, in a way not unlike finally coming home after a long, difficult mission.

Soulmates were a rare but well documented phenomenon back in your reality. Most people would go their entire lives without meeting someone who was lucky enough to bond, let alone experience it themselves. You silently cursed all of those articles and accounts you read as a hopeful tween for failing to mention just how sudden and violently the bond snapped into place.

"Say something! Suck each other's faces off! Maybe even-"

"That's enough," Logan hisses, slapping a large hand down onto Deadpool's shoulder.

You laugh awkwardly at the absurdity of this entire situation. Unsure of what to say or how to go about any of this. Bonded or not, you and the upsettingly handsome man in front of you were still strangers.

"I've been lookin' for you a long time, mon amour." He drawls. And fuck if his sultry cajun drawl isn't something you'd be happy to hear for the rest of your lifetime.

'Well, It's good to finally meet you, um..." you stammer out, only to remember that you hadn't even learned his name yet.

"Remy!" Elektra whispers to you excitedly.

You repeat his name under your breath, somehow feeling like you miss it as the syllables roll off of your tongue.

"It's lovely to finally meet you, Remy," you try again.

Logan takes the opportunity to introduce you like Elektra did for Remy. He sends you a soft smile as he learns your name, though it shines so bright and warm that you can't decide if you want to fall back against the table or leap into his arms.

You step towards him, happy to feel both of your heartbeats pumping in your chest as you both move to close the distance between you. When you're only a mere inches away from each other, his hand rises into view, silently asking permission to caress your cheek. You wait with bated breath to feel his touch, only for it to fall short when a certain red and black clad anti-hero steps between you—acting as if your entire world wasn't just flipped on its axis.

"Sorry to interrupt this precious little love session you two have going on, but I feel that I must remind you of the very pressing matters still at hand," Wade says with a look that is anything but sorry.

You look to Remy, whose face says only that he's ready to explode Deadpool with his mind and reach around Wade to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. You smile up at Remy, and watch as an unmistakable look of complete adoration flashes across his eyes.

You use your powers to send the mercenary flying backward through the air, leaving him screaming as you finally close the gap between you and Remy.

He brings you into his arms without hesitation. A stray tear slips from your eye as you realize just how right his touch feels against your skin. His nimble fingers wipe away the tear that fell onto your cheek, already coming into tune with the thousands of different emotions flowing through you.

"Don't cry chéri, Gambit's gotcha."

His words bring a fresh new crop of tears to your eyes. You savor the contact for several long moments before reluctantly pulling away. You waste no time in reaching over to interlock your hands, pulling him back a few steps.

A chorus of stifled laughter sounds throughout the room as you spot Wade stumbling back onto his feet. You squeeze Remy's hand when you hear him mutter "couyon," disapprovingly, something that earns another round of poorly dampened laughter from the group.

"Wade,” You call over to him, "Are you done being an asshole for the time being?"

"Never!”

"Can you idiots focus for five seconds?" Logan asks from the corner while taking a swig of whiskey. The rebuttal you’d prepared for Wade does in your throat, but you still give him a disapproving eye roll. Deadpool, unable to have someone speak up before him, pushes his way past Logan.

"Yeah, like I know the writer needs to hit their word count and all, but we've still got a baldheaded bitch to kill."

Getting out of the void has always been your top priority, but with your newfound bond, it felt all the more pressing.

Stepping aside to let Wade through, he begins to command the room as always. Ideas intertwine with his usual self deprecating jokes. You and Remy stand next to each other on the sidelines, as tensions begin to lower.

As the night drug on, the conversation began to buzz with urgent anticipation. Everyone takes a shot at pitching an idea or strategy that plays to some of their strengths. Logan had retreated outside while Blade, Electra, and Wade stood and paced around the room, focused on the task at hand.

With guards lowered and tensions gone, you and Remy retreated to a nearby couch. You both gave out the occasional opinion or bit of intel, but your minds never strayed far from each other.

The conversation slows, and you felt Gambit's hand brush against yours. You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his before he can back away. His fingers tighten against yours gently before letting up. You mirror his squeeze instantly, a thousand words passing in the silence hanging between you. You lift your eyes and meet his gaze, giving him a soft, barely perceptible nod. You can the low kinetic current coursing through his touch. It serves as yet another reminder of how strong your bond already feels.

Your head drops onto his shoulder, earning a low hum. Just above a whisper, and with a smile playing on your lips, you both promise that no matter what lies ahead, you are ready to face it—simply because you now have each other.

[gremlin-bot]

There is No Closure, Just Adapting To Life

Ao3 link: Here Master list: Here

Summary:

Danny should have asked more questions before accepting the request to fix a different dimension's time stream from Clockwork. He didn’t think he would be de-aged and live a different life where he would latch on to a new family and friends. It was nice being a part of a community of heroes.

It really wouldn’t have been that bad if he stayed there. Too bad that he was pulled from that world and back into his old one, both fulfilling his wish to see his original family and killing all the relationships with his new ones.

Now he has to figure out how to live in his original dimension again. And maybe, just maybe find a way to visit the one he forcefully left behind.

Chapter 1: Your trial period is over; your account has been put on hold.

Danny shouldn't be thinking about the past life he lived, shouldn't think about the parents who adopted him only to disappear for months at a time, nor the vigilante family he’d inserted himself into during their time of need. That life wasn't his to begin with! Just a dimension with a timeline that needed fixing in an unconventional way. 

So, why is he crying? 

He just got back to his home, time hadn’t passed here. He can see Sam, Tucker, and Jazz again! (He'll never see Cass, Jason, Dick, Damien, Steph, Kon –) He's more experienced and better at fighting now. He can protect Amity better! (He misses Gotham. The city seemed to make heroes feel like magic) Danny has his original life back… but damn it, he wants to go back! He doesn't want to protect a city alone again! 

Danny curls into himself on his bed. Silent sobs racking his body. He's so different than he was before. His hair was longer and parted in the middle, nothing like his usual, (old), fringe style. His missing scars and the new ones he can't explain. Gods-  (No, wait, it's Ancients) he is missing his spleen! How was he going to explain that, or any of this? Even as his sobs grew more violent, their volume didn't increase. 

A trick he learned in the Wayne manor. 

He didn't want to disturb anyone with his half remembered dreams of a different life.

Danny took a shuddering breath, the feelings he’d been trying to bury since his return hitting him full force. He’d been sucked back to his original dimension without warning a day ago. Clockwork, that bastard, didn't even give him time to say goodbye to the rest of the Bats and Birds. He was in his apartment as Tim Drake one second and plopped in Danny Fenton's bedroom the next. 

His talk with the older ghost didn't make the situation any better. 

He didn't explain anything! Just that his work in that dimension's timeline was done. If Clockwork hadn't time locked the portal Danny would've been in the ancient’s lair instead of dissociating in a room that doesn't feel like his anymore. He hates not being given a choice or having a plan. 

Jason was right; anger was so much easier than actually dealing with your feelings.

His spiraling was stopped when he heard a soft knock on his door. Oh, he’d forgotten that Jazz was home. Living through a lifetime made him forget a lot about his first one. He didn't get time to follow the new spiral of thoughts before his sister opened the door. 

"Danny?" Her voice was soft, laced with worry.

"Yeah," He hates how hoarse his voice sounds.

 He should be better than this; he’s infiltrated the league of assassins for Ancients’ sake. He watched as she approached his bed, buried beneath blankets. He can hear when she actually sees him by her gasp. 

"What happened?" Jazz asked as she sat on the bed facing him.

"I… I fixed a timeline in a different dimension for Clockwork." Danny can't bring himself to look at her. Everything is still fresh. The feeling he can just barely comprehend as grief has yet to settle inside him. He takes a deep breath. He can compartmentalize this and deal with it after Jazz leaves.

"How long were you gone this time, a month or two?" Jazz looks at him with unending patience and care. 

"17 years," He whispers hesitantly.

"Oh… oh, Danny." He couldn’t have prepared himself for the shock and pained confusion on her face. She leaned her over him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Oh, he can't compartmentalize this after all. Danny’s breath hitched as fat tears began rolling down his face, dampening his pillow even more. His life as Tim made him forget what it was like to have unending support from a sibling. He loved the hodge podge of the Waynes, but he was a vigilante first. He wasn’t really family.

Just a coworker.

“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too much. Just know that I’ll always be here for you little brother,” Jazz’s voice was gentle. Oh, did he miss her during those years. Cass and Barbara helped him cope with missing Jazz whether they knew it or not.  He turned into her, relishing in the fact she was here. He may be missing a whole new family, but he got his old one back.

“I missed you, Jazz. Can you stay here with me for a little while?” He pleaded between silent sobs.

“Of course. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

---------—x—---------

Tim woke up to the sound of typing and the sight of red hair. He must have crashed at Barbara’s last night. He sits up, not fully awake just yet.

“Morning, Babs,” he yawns, eyes blurry. 

The gentle but persistent clicking of keys stops with a hitch of her breath. "Danny, it's me Jazz. Is Babs someone you were close to… before?" 

The voice he hears back isn't Barbara's.

It's one he barely recognizes now, made even harder to place with the barely covered pain. Jazz deserves a better brother than him. 

What kind of brother is he, that he doesn't even remember his own sister at first glance. 

Danny takes a deep shaky breath. No, he can't think like that. He hasn't seen her in 17 years, Of course he isn't going to recognize her. Still she hasn't changed one bit. 

He can't tell if that makes it better or worse.

"Yeah" he croaks, voice rough from sleep and the lump that's formed in his throat. “She has hair like yours.”

“Oh… do you want to talk about it?” she offers awkwardly. She was completely out of her depth but still wanting to help in her own way. (Alfred would have loved to meet her.)

Danny shakes his head, pushing past the aching in his chest as he drags himself out of bed. He doesn't look back at Jazz, he doesn't want to see the pitying look in her eyes. Something ugly, angry, and raw always tends to creep into him when that particular emotion is directed at him, and she doesn't deserve that.

What a cruel joke that the one thing that he gets in spades in both lives is pity.

He needs a strategy if he plans to survive the next couple of days, (the rest of his life), and that starts small. Get ready and investigate what the hell was happening in his life before… his time mission. He lost so much time with his breakdown, how annoying. 

Tim (no, he's Danny now) huffs, opening his closet. Well before he starts anything he needs a damn shower. 

---------—x—---------

By the time Danny was clean and dressed, Jazz had left him with a journal with his name on it and her scrapbook. Ancients, she really is the best big sister. (Cass would contest that). 

He knows that he should dive into them right away, but… he can put it off a little longer. Remembering and relearning will take time, and he has all the time in the world now, whether he likes it or not. Diving deep will be too much. He’s too emotionally raw, and just needs something to latch on to, like: 

Next day survival plan 101, start small. 

He can look at Danny’s phone; he’ll figure out what to do with Tim’s later. Remember, one step at a time; one thing at a time. Finding the device was easy, it was on the nightstand where he always leaves it. Seems like this is one of the habits he kept in both lifes. Opening it up was easier than he originally expected; he really didn't have a sense of cybersecurity beyond Tucker back then.

(…Now?)

The device was familiar in so many different ways; he always did gravitate towards technology (with Tucker pushing him forward right next to him). The screen lit up, showing the basic layout of all phones; he dismissed notifications from dumb games, leaving the social media ones. What he was really looking for was his messages.

He had a couple new messages from Sam and Tucker in their group chat. He should look at the chat, but, in doing so, he'd be facing the people he had been grieving their missing presence for the last 17 years. A missing presence that had him picked up so many new hobbies, just because they reminded him of his two best friends. Danny would have never touched a camera if it wasn't for the ache in his chest everytime he passed a looming gargoyle. The hundreds of pictures will finally be seen by their intended audience, if he could only get himself to open the gods damned chat!

Shaky breath slips from his lips as he steadies his thoughts. Baby steps. Look at the messages and go from there.

— New Messages —

PettyWitch

Tucker I swear if your ass isn't up rn, I'm coming over and replacing all of the meat in your fridge with lettuce.

TFine

give me a sec 2 get down there you can stop calling me 

i'm not going to answer

what about Danny

how come you aren't calling HIM!!!!!

PettyWitch

Bc Danny can actually get up before noon during the weekends unlike other people in this chat! So he can be trusted to get to Nasty Burger on time. 

TFine

HEY!

Their banter goes on. Danny scrolls through it with a painful kind of fondness draping over him. A hole that once gouged his heart was being filled, only to have a different part get ripped out for the same reason. The people he missed will always have some type of mouth on them, especially one that gets them in trouble. Moving past the too fresh grief and focusing on the conversation at hand does bring about a pressing issue, he's supposed to meet up with Sam and Tucker soon.

Shit.

Looks like he's facing more ghosts of his past-turned-present sooner than he thought. It's Tucker and Sam. They stuck with him through his death and his first hero career. If anyone besides Jazz could sympathize with him, it was them. Resolve hardened like the Bat he is (was —there is no way back to them now), he spends the little remaining time flipping through pictures and looping handwriting as he pieces the memory of his old life back together.

[saltylemontears]

try again || ln4

summary: you and lando meet after many years with lots to talk about... warnings: none? i think? a/n: my first lando fic got over 650 notes (INSANE), so here's another, longer, as a thank you!

you weren't a big fan of racing. in fact, you had no clue what it was really about, until your brother brought you here.

the paddock is loud, way too loud for your liking, and you don't really understand. you see people wearing merch, carrying around signs and cutouts with big smiles on their faces, and it's actually kind of cute.

your brother gets into a passionate conversation about a championship with a fellow fan and decides to completely ignore your existence. how typical of him. your eyes wander to the big screen on your left.

names and pictures flash before your eyes, but none of them sound familiar. max verstappen, charlec leclerc, oscar piastri, lando norris.

lando norris.

lando norris?

lando norris, your highschool sweetheart? no, that can't be. surely, it's just a guy with the same name. and the same face. and the same fucking curls. just a coincidence.

your thoughts begin to wander, and suddenly you're in highschool again, anxiously waiting for lando in the park, on your bench. but lando's not in sight. not a single trace of him, he didn't even text you that he's busy like he usually does. you left the park two hours later, tears streaming down your face, betrayal stinging inside your chest.

and it starts stinging again. your first ever love, your first ever heartbreak.

you never thought you'd feel like this on a random sunday in miami, and it's overwhelming, it's all too much and you need to go.

your brother turns back to you. "hey, where are you going?"

it feels stupid to tell him about lando and whatever feelings you're feeling right now, so you just sit back down. "nothing, nothing,"

you manage to zone out for a while, only coming back to your senses when the lights go out, the race starts and your brother screams in excitement.

the crowd goes insane every time a car passes them, making the whole place even louder, and to be completely honest, it's actually kinda fun to watch those cars go ridiculously fast.

as the race comes to an end, the fans get louder, specifically the ones dressed in orange and your brother stands up, cheering passionately.

"and lando norris wins the miami grand prix, for the first time in formula on-"

jesus christ. you just witnessed your first love win a fucking formula one race with your own eyes.

you watch the screen, seeing lando on the podium, looking so happy and relieved, and all of a sudden, you see the same kid you loved those years ago and it's way too much to fucking handle. you get up again.

"i'm gonna go pee," you tell your brother, attempting to leave as quietly as possible, making your way through the crowd.

hell, you don't even know where the toilets are. you just need to get out of there real quick.

and you run, you run until you don't know where you are, but you're standing next to a bunch of guys in orange, breathing heavily.

you feel tears streaming down your cheeks and you hide your face, trying to find a bathroom. those orange guys definitely have a bathroom there, right?

and now, you're completely lost, messy and lando norris is in front of your eyes, chatting with someone. you need to get out.

you wait for a while until everyone turns around and run out of there as quickly as you can and-

something taps on your shoulder, and when you turn around, it's him. you're not sure whether you should cry or laugh.

your eyes meet and it's awkward as hell, just like back in highschool.

"didn't think i'd see you again," he says quietly after a minute of just staring. his voice is a little wobbly.

"i wish you didn't," you reply softly, turning back around to make your way back, but he stops you again. he stays quiet.

"congratulations," you say when he doesn't reply, and you mean it. no bad feelings, just like your mum always told you. "you did well,"

lando's hand on your shoulder tightens and he bites his lip, as if he was trying to find the right words.

"i'm sorry." he eventually whispers, voice breaking in the middle, and your heart fucking breaks at the sight, as angry as you are. "i-i'm gonna explain, alright? i'll tell you everything, please,"

you nod in agreement. today just can't get crazier.

he gently leads you somewhere, and you feel your survival instinct kick in, but it's lando. it's always been him.

he closes the door behind you when you sit on the couch in his driver's room. your hands shake.

"go on then," you begin, "explain,"

he takes a deep breath. "listen, i didn't really have a choice. i had to leave, you know? to move up the ladder, and i dropped out, because i wanted to chase this dream," he says, eyes wandering over your face. "and then - then it started being more than a dream, and i left everyone behind, not just you, and i'm so fucking sorry,"

you tense. "you could've at least texted me,"

"and what was i supposed to text you? that i'm leaving the country to become a racing driver and that i'm gonna be living in monaco and flying around the world and might never see you again?"

"anything. you don't even know how i felt after you ditched me," you reply, bitterness coating the sentence.

"i didn't want to ditch you,"

"but you did, lando, and it fucking hurt!" you raise your voice a little, but it's shaky and unstable. lando reaches for your hand.

"i'm sorry, i really am," he whispers, "i thought about you every day, how you're doing, because i loved you. i loved you so fucking much, i wanted you to just forget my dumb ass,"

"i didn't forget," you say, hand brushing against his. "i thought you didn't want me anymore,"

the room goes silent and you can hear each other's breathing.

"i still love you. i never really stopped," you blurt out, not even realizing what you've just said until he pulls you into a much needed hug, whispering a "me too," in your ear.

you pull away, looking into his eyes. he smiles, and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"you think we could try again?"

[vivalafxxku]

Scruffing of the Robins + others

i wholeheartedly believe that Bruce is devastated when he can no longer or never got to scruff his kids. Not only is it because his kids have matured to the point that they no longer impulsively jump into shit and need to be physically pulled back, it's because they grew.

He nearly cries when he tried to scruff Dick (his Robin may have gotten better impulsive control, but he was still a little shit) and his son only rises to his toes rather than the air. A whole new wave of tears when Dick (while he didn't grow much taller) changes to his more streamlined Nightwing suit so there's nothing to scruff without accidentally hurting him. Dick would catch his look of discontent and laugh, saying that this was exactly why his suit was designed the way it is.

Then there's Jason. Jason who was always pretty small (street kid woes), so even at 15, Bruce can comfortably scruff him. And most of the time, Jason goads him into scruffing him 'cause it's fun. But then he died and when he came back, his son nearly towers over Bruce and weighs just as much and won't let Bruce within 6ft of him without risking a bullet to the shoulder.

Oh but he tries, out of instinct or maybe nostalgia? A whimsical wish for the past, for a different reality? Though it's not much of a scruff and more of a yank to the brown leather jacket collar that earns him a snarl on a good day and physical harm on a bad one.

Tim doesn't get scruffed much and Bruce regrets it in hindsight. But back then, he was drowning in grief and Tim didn't need much scruffing, the Robin was metaphorically scruffing him than the other way around.

By the time Bruce gets around to scruffing Tim, it's a rare occurrence. Tim has all the discipline in the world when in his company despite what his brothers and team say, mind carefully calculating move after move, from travelling the world (something Tim refuses to elaborate other than a splenectomy that Bruce had to dig to find out) during his little stint in the time stream. But when he does, it's a Dick situation all over again where he just rises to his toes.

Cassandra was much too elusive and disciplined to be scruffed (not to mention, too tall). His daughter, however, does find amusement in the impulse and allows Bruce to scruff her, pulling her knees inwards to have the full experience of being airborne. But it's not the same. It's a different kind of fond; it doesn't have the protectiveness laced in the action. There's no exasperation, no "hold on a minute, let's think about it."

Barbara, Stephanie and Duke were too tall when Bruce took them in. And unlike Cass, they don't indulge him either. The existence of Batgirl hinged on the fact that she listens to Batman and Bruce had his hands full with Dick and Jason. Stephanie teases him, rubbing in the fact that she's not actually his kid; therefore, doesn't have to right to scruff her. And Duke is much too awkward, too new, to know if he should.

Then, there's Damian.

His little boy that flinched the first time Bruce reached out to scruff him. Bruce was still working on getting Damian comfortable around him, to show that he would never lay a hand on him. Then he was lost in time. He considered himself lucky that Dick took up more than being Batman. He came back and all he needed to do was figure out his and Damian's dynamic as father and son. (Turns out, Dick made a habit of scruffing Damian. "Won't lie to you, B. It's pretty effective.")

It's only a matter of time before when Damian outgrows being scruffed. Bruce already missed 10 years with his boy on top of being lost in time and puberty is going to hit him like a truck in a few years if he is anything like Bruce.

But for now, he enjoys his little Robin's protests and huffiness when he tries to jump into the fray prematurely while his family listens in amusement through the comms.

[jayke0]

A Pleasant Surprise

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem reader

Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.

Rating: nsfw, smut

Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).

Word count: 1,441

Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.

………......................…………………………………….

When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.

“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”

“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.

You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”

You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”

Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.

“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”

His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.

”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”

The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.

“Oh! Right.”

“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”

“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.

His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.

“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”

The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.

“You promise?”

“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.

You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.

“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”

Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.

A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.

“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”

He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.

Rocking his hips up, he pants.

“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”

“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.

“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”

Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.

The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.

“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”

Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.

“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”

You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.

“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”

Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.

His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.

They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.

“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”

His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”

“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”

He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”

His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.

“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.

...........................................................................

Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm

[inkedinshadows]

Never Hold Back

Day 31: Squirting — Lucien x f!reader

Warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering, insecure reader

Word count: 1.099

A/N: we've finally got to the end of Kinktober! This was so much fun, but it was also exhausting ngl. I'm working on new fics and I'm so glad it's not smut bc I seriously need a break from it. I didn't think I'd be able to write a fic for each day when I decided to do this and I have to say I'm quite of myself for making it. Thank you so much to everyone who read/commented/reblogged my silly smutty blurbs and if you've stuck around to read them all, I love you pls let's get married.

based on this suggestion

You didn’t have much experience with sex. Or rather, you did, but the people you had been with could be counted on one hand. And if there was one thing you learned after your first time, it was how to fake an orgasm just before the real one hit you. That way, your partner would relent, sparing you the embarrassment.

But Lucien wasn’t like your previous lovers. He was your mate.

When you arched off the bed and moaned louder than before, he pulled his mouth away from you and watched you with a furrowed brow.

“Why do you do that?”

At first, you didn’t understand what he was talking about, and your insecurities took over. What had you done? Did you have an actual orgasm? No, you would have felt that, and Lucien would have looked more grossed out than concerned.

“Do what?” you asked, trying to keep the tremor from your voice.

Lucien sat up straight and you immediately felt the absence of his head between your thighs. His eyes found yours and the uneasiness etched on his face made you brace yourself for what might be coming.

He was silent for a moment before he said quietly, “If you don’t enjoy what I’m doing, please just tell me.”

Eyes wide, you sat up too. “Why would you think that? Of course I enjoy it, Lu!”

“Then why did you just fake an orgasm?”

“I didn’t—”

“You did it last time too.”

Your breath caught, heat rising to your cheeks until you were sure you looked like a tomato. Unsure how to respond, you looked down at your fidgeting hands.

You always thought you were good at faking, that it looked real enough to not raise suspicions. None of the males you’d been with before had ever noticed. And now that your mate had realized it, you wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.

“Sunshine,” he called softly.

A slender finger hooked under your chin, and then you were looking into his eyes. He didn’t seem upset, which spurred you to finally say something.

“I’m sorry,” you stuttered, and words began pouring out in an incoherent stream. “It’s just… my body. When I come, it does— it’s really gross, so I just… I thought you—”

You stopped abruptly when his thumb moved to cover your lips. He searched your face, his brows still furrowed, before he asked, “What do you mean ‘gross’?”

You shook your head, resisting the urge to look away again, but his gaze was piercing, and his golden eye seemed to see right through you, so eventually you answered, voice just above a whisper.

“I… I tend to squirt.”

You expected disgust, judgment, maybe even rejection—the same reactions you had gotten the few times it happened, the reasons you had started faking.

Instead, Lucien smiled broadly. “You do?”

He sounded so excited that you frowned as you gave him a single nod. His hands traveled down your body, caressing your sides until they rested on your waist. You were still waiting for a rejection, and he probably read it on your face because he gently squeezed you.

“Y/N… did someone tell you it’s gross?” he questioned. “Is that why you say that?”

You blinked. “You don’t think it is?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Lucien’s posture changed. His back went a bit rigid, and his jaw clenched as he let you go. “Lay back down,” he said, or rather ordered. No soft tone was left in his voice, in his expression.

“Lucien…” you tried, but he cut you off.

“Lay down. I’m going to make you come.”

You did as he asked, though with a touch of hesitation. Lucien was quick to settle between your legs again. When you opened your mouth to try and talk him out of it one last time, he beat you to it.

“I am going to make you come,” he repeated, even more firmly than the first time. And then he was licking a stripe up your folds, his hands holding you open for him to feast on.

You decided to just enjoy it, then. What else were you supposed to do when he flicked his tongue over your clit and gently rolled it between his lips? Your hand shot out to tangle in his fiery hair, and you sucked in a breath, feeling his low chuckle reverberate against your cunt.

He probed your entrance with a finger, and when you squirmed, he pushed it in and curled it, hitting that sweet spot that drew a groan from deep in your throat. And then you lost all sense of time and space as the fingers became two and his mouth latched onto your clit.

The pleasure was rising fast—faster than ever, now that you weren’t worrying about waiting for the perfect moment to fake your orgasm. Yet as you felt it approaching, the thought that maybe you should stop before it was too late lingered at the back of your mind.

“Lucien, I’m… I’m close,” you warned, your voice a breathless murmur.

“Then come for me, sunshine.” He looked up at you through his lashes, and his next words were a low, commanding growl. “Don’t you dare hold it back.”

When he thrust his fingers in deeper and curled them once more, you didn’t hold it back, and after so long without such an intense feeling, you were utterly overwhelmed by it. A loud cry broke free from you as your whole body shook while you squirted all over Lucien’s fingers and chin. He held you firm, still working you until you went limp, spent and panting. Only then did he pull back, and you blushed at the sight of his face covered in your release.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Lucien only smiled. “Don’t be. Don’t ever apologize for it.”

He climbed up your body, and you wrapped your arms around his neck out of instinct. As he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“It was amazing, sunshine,” he murmured against your lips. “Hot, even.”

His words warmed your heart and a bit of the shame you had grown accustomed to began to melt away. If Lucien, your mate, found it hot… then maybe it wasn’t actually that bad after all.

“And to think that you've denied yourself so many orgasms because of it…” he went on. A smirk blossomed on his lips and a mischievous glint sparked in his russet eye. “Let me remedy that.”

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[jirishnesensei]

geto suguru x reader | college au [18+]

offscript ch.1 be my lead

༺ Pairing. college au - volleyball player! geto x cinematography major! reader (f)

༺ summary - In the chaotic world of college life, you should have expected your drama production to turn south as fast as it did. When your lead actor drops out just weeks before the play, you’re left scrambling to salvage the show that means everything to you. Enter Geto Suguru—talented, charming, and the last person you’d expect to help. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and you find yourself convincing him to step into the spotlight.

༺ warnings/tags - 18+, fluff, angst, smut, fem reader, romance, pining, slow burn, friends to lovers (I guess strangers to friends to lovers), acting, college au, alcohol/drugs, injury, unrequited love, jealousy, Geto is bad at feelings, swearing

༺ status - ongoing

༺ chapters - 1/x

༺ word count - 4.6k

"You belong with me. You've always belonged with me." Emi cried. Her hand is clutched to her heart, and her voice trembles, afraid that her confession may push him away.

Kazuki looks between both her eyes with such yearning. He lifts his hand slowly and sweet, cupping her tear stained cheek as though she were some figment of his imagination.

"I love -"

The actor froze. He swallows thickly, changing his weight between both his legs, then said, "I love." You clutch your pen because he was hesitating.

The stage grew quiet, waiting for his line. You glance at the script in your hand anxiously, and when the actor looks at you, you mouth the line for him, confused because his said it a million times. He looks back at the actress in front of him and you notice how the hand that held her cheek became more rough. His eyes no longer bore weight to the scripts words, and his mouth frowns into a deep, personal scowl.

"Fuck you."

The hall audibly gasps in a chorus, nevermind he had a mini microphone attached to his cheek.

The next second the lecturer is up in arms. Your friend Mai beside you looks at the script to see if there were any line changes she didn't know about, but of course there wasn't.

Cecilia, the actress, has her lips parted just barely in a trembling frown. What you assume to be real tears start streaming down her face as she watches Jean, your actor and her boyfriend, drop the script to the floor, jump off the stage and grab his bag, beelining it straight for the doors.

"What the hell is his problem?" Your friend Mai stands abruptly beside you amidst the chaos. She glares at Jean, then rounds the table and goes straight for Cecilia and you? Well, you wish you could say you had just an inkling of moral to check up on her, but the only realization managing to bypass your conscious is the fact that your only male lead is speeding towards the exit door.

"Wait!" He starts walking faster when you call. You run to his side and grip his arm desperately. "Jean, just wait. Talk to me, what the hell happened?" You look between both his eyes for some kind of answer but now that you were in front of him, the entrance light beaming down the rows of seats, you could just make out the tears that were brimming in his eyes and I don't know, there's just something about men crying that gets you feeling like you're going to cry yourself.

"She cheated." He says, as if it were physically hurting him to pull those words out of his throat.

your eyes widen, and it's the first moment you stop thinking about your play. "she what?"

"She fucking cheated," He laughs pitifully at himself, aggressively wiping his palm against his cheek over and over to the point where it was turning pink. "And you wanna know with who?"

You fumble a couple filler words, expecting him to be rhetorical, but no, he wanted an actual answer. "C'mon, guess. There's only a few people worth fucking over a 4 year relationship for."

You flinch at his tone, "I don't know."

"It was Geto. Geto fucking... I mean what the hell am I supposed to do when she cheats on me with a guy like that?" His voice cracks when he speaks so he quickly turns his head away so you don't notice, but the damage was done, you could hear him sniffling and it made your heart crack into two uneven pieces.

"Shit...I'm..." You straighten up, standing there awkwardly now as he tries to stop himself from crying in front of you. The name he mentions is not foreign to you. Probably not foreign to anybody, really. "... Jean I'm so sorry."

"It doesn't matter." He shakes your arm off of him that you forgot was even still holding on and presses his lips tightly together as if there was so much more he wanted to say, but he doesn't. "I'm sorry, but I can't be in this show anymore. Not when she's - " when he looks at you, all the raw emotion he was letting off was thrown into your face like a reality check that he was not in the right state of mind to negotiate. As someone who does theatre work as her major, emotions were something you learned to pick up on pretty easily and Jeans... you actually felt scared standing before him with just how unpredictable he looked, so you take a step back and nod sympathetically.

"I understand."

Then he leaves. Without another word. Slamming the doors against the wall and leaving it swinging in his wake. When he's out of sight, your mind starts to pick up on all the commotion that's happening behind you. Cecilia is a crying mess on top of the stage, and everybody is out of their positions trying to comfort her or get the tea on what really happened. 

"Hey, what did he tell you?" Your friend Mai finally jogs over, concern written all over her face. You link your hands behind your neck and sigh.

"We just lost our lead."

you cancel the rest of the session. Having no lead made it immensely difficult for you to continue so you pack your bag with your script and belongings uncaringly. Most people have already left except for Mai, but someone walks up to you and you could feel yourself teetering the edge of breaking down.

"I don't know when the next rehearsal will be."

"It's me." Your hands freeze mid stuffing your jacket inside to look up at Cecilia who stood in front of you. Eyes all red and puffy, with faded lines of mascara running down her cheeks. You'd think she was the one that got cheated on. You straighten up and gesture to the chair beside you.

"Do you want to sit?" You offer but she shakes her head. 

"I just-" she takes a deep breath in, ringing her hands together nervously. "I just wanted to apologize to you. Formally. I really messed up and -" she starts to cry again and it took you by surprise, not moving for a few seconds before you quickly walk around your table to offer her a consoling hand.

"sh sh sh, you really don't have to explain."

Mai was a ways to the side, noticing you were preoccupied so she gave a sympathetic look then continued to close up the stage for you. You mouth a 'thank you' to her from over Cecelia's shoulder.

"But aren't you angry with me?" Cece is now wailing into her palms. You try and soothe her by rubbing her back, but it didn't seem to offer much, so you stretch over the table to your tote bag and grab the mini tissue packet for her. She takes it and really goes at it, "I fucked up so bad, but now I ruined your show too. I know you worked so hard on it-"

"Its fine cece." You squeeze her shoulders and bend down a little to look into her eyes. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Do you think I don't have a replacement?"

she sniffles, lifting her head up. "I thought you said you didn't prepare for one?..."

you give her a reassuring smile. "This is the biggest show of my life, of course I prepared for one."

That seems to calm her down a little bit because she's not crying anymore, but still she wipes her eyes. "If I can do anything to help, please let me know." 

You narrow your eyes at her, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "You should just go home and rest. I'll call you when rehearsal starts up again."

She suddenly comes in for a tight hug and although you work with her, you don’t really know her personally, so you awkwardly return it with a few pats on the back but then you think she probably really needs it so you squeeze her back instead. When she thanks you and turns to leave, she stops mid-step like she wants to say something.

"um, did he... did he say anything to you when you stopped him?" She can't look into your eyes when she asks. You think it's probably out of guilt, who really knows, but there's this ugly feeling in your chest that makes you think that Jean was probably telling you the truth. You don't want to get into the middle of anything, though, so you shake your head.

"Just that you guys had some problems."

She nods but leaves with a heavy cloud over her head.

---

"Cheated?" Mai scoffs beside you as you and her walked along the colonnade outside campus, a disgusted expression on her face. "And I consoled her."

You weren't listening to much of what she said since you had your own problems to figure out. Like for one, who in the world was going to replace your lead.

"So what're you going to do?" Mai sighs and frowns when she sees how despondent you look, poking at your ice cream in a cup that you bought from some fundraising group in the university. You think it's for the Volleyball team if you're not mistaken.

Despite having told Cece that you had a replacement for Jeans' role, you didn't actually have one. Something about nobody was good enough or whatever high horse reasoning you had at the time.

"do you think I could bribe Mr Sayako into giving me an extension?" You ask Mai and she shakes her head.

"Wouldn't work hun, this was already your extension, remember?"

"Okay sure, but what the hell? he saw what happened up there. How could I have planned for that?"

"I guess it's worth a shot, but what happens if he says no?"

You sigh, then take a mouthfull of your sugary treat and speak through it. "Look for a washed-up new lead, I guess,"

"What? you're just going to give up?" 

"mm," You shake your head, taking the spoon out of your mouth so you could talk, "its not giving up. I'm accepting reality."

"That's giving up." She sweatdrops, watching you juggle your envelope and ice cream in one hand while you fish in your back pocket for your phone.

"whatever." You say, taking it out and already looking for an Uber nearby so you can wallow in your bed with that entire bottle of wine you had planned on popping for your opening night, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen. Mai suddenly takes your shoulder, and it stops you from clicking accept.

"I have a crazy idea." She says. She's peeked your interest enough to make you drop your arm, but you don't respond. "Why don't you ask Geto to be your lead?" 

You deadpan. "are you insane?" it seems the more seconds that go by the more she seems convinced that she actually thought of something brilliant. 

"I went to high school with him and he did a class play once and by the gods he was fucking phenomenal."

"a class play?" You repeat like the word was foreign to your tongue. 

"yeah!"

"Like informal and for marks?"

"Yeah? Why do I feel like you're being condescending."

you look at her funnily. "oh, is that the word?" you stuff your phone back into your pocket. "You can't possibly think because he was good in a class play he'd be good to act in front of an entire audience on a stage in make up and costume?"

"You're not listening to me!" She whines and shakes your shoulders. Her excessive persistence makes you groan, flailing your one unoccupied arm at her to push her away.

"he was fucking great! Like professional great! Every acting club begged for him to join, even I begged him once but he said no cause he was doing volleyball or whatever-" she stops talking when a sports committee student randomly stops her and shoves a flyer into her hands while you continue to walk, "Sure, thanks," she absent-mindedly answers then catches up to you, "seriously, he was really good. I can guarantee you he would be much better than any random person you find now. With all the good actors taken he's your best shot."

You scoff, taking a spoon out of your ice cream again. "best shot..." you mutter then stop walking. "ok fine, lets say he actually is as good as you say he is, what makes you think I can convince him?"

You give her a couple seconds so that the gears could turn in her head, but the disappointment never hits, and her expression changes like a lightbulb flashing yellow, "You can be very persuasive." Is her counterargument.

You raise a brow at her instead of answering, so she gives you one of her meanest glares. "Why are you being so difficult right now?"

"Because I'm not in the mood to make a fool out of myself with someone I don't even know not to mention, incase you forgot, he is literally the reason my first lead quit on me!"

"and some people fuck their CEO to get a promotion!"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

She rolls her eyes impatiently.

"You have been trying to get picked up on your writing for years now. Are you seriously willing to just throw all that away just so you can say a couple of years down the line 'at least I maintained my morals for that play'?" She looks at you genuinely concerned, and it makes you frown.

"No..."

"Then you can't be thinking about everyone else's feelings (y/n). You do what you gotta do."

"But what if-"

"Zip it." She takes your ice cream and it makes you frown harder. "It's just one audition. You miss all the shots you don't take, remember?" 

You press your lips into a tight line and narrow your eyes. Nothing you said would go through her thick skull, and admittedly, a part of you was already convinced. Mai glances down at the flyer in her hand and is about to throw it away when she gasps and starts to shove it in your face.

"You cannot tell me this isn't a sign!"

You send her an irritated look when she doesn't stop the shoving and forcibly pull the flyer out of her hand to read it. And in clear-cut bold, it says:

Volleyball Team try-outs!

The gym will be closed for the next month in order to facilitate the try-outs and training of new team members.

Trials start on the 27th of May and ends on the 21st of June

Make the time and become a part of the Todai Volleyball team!

It was professionally designed with a team photo transparently printed behind the font, too. It was a testiment to just how much the school adored their volleyball team, handing out these flyers to just about anybody that has a pair of hands, going off of the stack that was in that guys arms.

The date, however, was the most jarring because it couldn't have been more perfect, giving Geto, if he had to agree, the perfect opportunity to help you out and not clash with his practices.

Mai gasps, her line of sight just past your head. "Speak of the devil!" She grips your arm and forces your attention to the right. You feel your chest tighten when you see him in all his glory, Geto Suguru, and a few other guys you recognize as a part of the team around him. They just walked out of the econ building and you can already notice the attention they were getting.

Mai is suddenly pushing against your back fervently. "Now's your chance, c'mon! Let's go!"

"What?!" You look back at her like she's gone mental. "Now? You want me to go now?" 

"When else?!"

"I didn't even prepare anything! Don't I only have one shot?!"

"Yes and this is it! You're the most persuasive when you don't overthink anything. Just ask him and don't be a pussy about it!"

She pushes you hard, and it's enough to get you to start walking his way anxiously, looking back at her enthusiastic smile as she gives you two thumbs up like a mum sending her child off to school.

You sigh pitifully, shaking your head. What in the world has your life come to? Just now you had the perfect cast, the perfect script, and now you're going to beg and grovel to someone you've never even spoken to before? you suppose, if he does actually agree by some miracle, then you wouldn't mind. But that was one big miracle and you don't think you've done enough good deeds to warrant that.

You adjust your navy blue headband to neaten out the baby strands that were sticking out. The rowdiness of the group with their deep, masculine laughter, trying to speak over one another was becoming abundantly clear as you neared, although Geto seemed to be the only one that's not trying to scream over his teammates. You neatened your buttoned up white shirt, unrolled your black jersey sleeves, and lifted your pants up with the hoops of the waistband. 

"god... here we go," you mutter. "excuse me." you say loud enough to catch the attention of just the right person right as a guy behind him gave a solid slap on his back and exclaimed a this guys worse, dude before following the group further down the pavement, leaving you alone with Geto.

You give him your best smile, waving your hand but also mentally aware to not actually swoon over him because wow, up close you could just tell he was a man made with love. 

He’s tall, atleast six feet tall which is well above your head and there's a slight sag to his shoulders with effortless bedroom eyes. He has long, thick hair that you'd kill for, tied in a messy high bun that suggests he didn’t bother with it after his practice and he loosely grips a half-empty water bottle, droplets still clinging to the sides with one hand casually inside his long white and blue athletic pants coupled with his sports jacket that's only zipped three-quarter of the way, just enough to reveal a glint of a silver chain resting against his collarbone. The sleeves of his jacket are casually rolled up to his elbows, too, with his one arm sporting a niche black watch that looked like it wouldn't have the numbers on it. You hope you didn't pan up his physique. You just couldn't help but notice how effortlessly stylish he looked, and you started to get your hopes up that maybe Mai was onto something.

You notice he looks a bit pensive by your sudden approach, a light crease forming in his eyebrows as if trying to recognize you, but it quickly disappears the same moment his eyes flicker to your hands that still hold your small admissions envelope that you got signed to book out the hall for your shows opening night.

“I don’t think you know me,” you say, and he naturally switches into this approachable demeanor with a light smile, shaking his head that makes his bangs sway gently.

“No, I don’t think I do.” He turns away from his retreating friends to give you his full attention, and his voice catches you so off guard. You suppose, there’s a delicateness to him that you hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m (y/n),” you introduce yourself. He nods, acknowledging you. “Geto.” he says as if not everybody already knew who he was.

You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and exhale, suddenly feeling nervous.

“So, listen... I don’t want to waste your time, so I’ll just cut to the chase. I’m producing this show, and I’d really like for you to audition to be my lead -" Your words trail off as you notice his expression change.

"A show?" He repeats. There’s suddenly an intensity in his gaze that makes you want to apologize for even asking because it feels like you’ve wronged him somehow. You just nod. "Yeah...or like a play, whichever works..." 

“Oh.” You hear the disinterest in his tone, but he covers it up with a polite smile, “Thank you, but I’ll have to decline. I’m really busy with volleyball practice.”

"I know you're busy," you cut him off, taking a step closer but remember you can't come off as desperate despite how much you actually are. "my play's opening night is June 23rd, and I know your practices are on hold now for the next month with the trials starting up."

He stares at you for a few seconds, almost like a deer caught in headlights and then he chuckles.

"You really did your homework."

You give him a weak smile, shrugging. "If I'm going to ask you I think it's only safe measure to know my information, right? This wouldn't be just for me either. This would be really good exposure for you too. I have pretty top end agencies attending the play and you never know. They may just be interested in what they see."

He hums, crossing his arms and getting more comfortable on his feet. It takes everything in you to not glance at how nice his arms probably look across his chest.

"But I'm pursuing volleyball, what need would I have for acting agencies?"

"Well, they're not just looking for actors," A gust of wind blows some of your hair over your lips, so you lift your hand to hold it to the side. He notices the movement. "they could use you for the sports magazine, publicize your skills, your credentials. It could easily bring nationwide attention for you to be on that."

You feel a sense of pride when Geto’s demeanor shifts subtly from uninterested to genuinely intrigued. You’ve cast the line, and now you just need to reel him in.

“Hm,” he exhales, shoulders dropping slightly. “How long is it again?”

"one month. Give or take a few days."

"and you want me to audition?"

"Yeah, any day this week is cool but preferably as soon as possible."

He raises a brow and by the tug of his lip you're assuming he found something amusing. "So wait, you are producing what sounds like the most important play of your life and you're only now looking for a lead?"

You flush at his comment, looking away sheepishly at the students exiting the campus doors. Sharp as a knife this one...

"That's a... It's a really long story, but you don't have to worry about that, I have a complete team that's ready to go at a moments notice. I just need my lead."

He taps his finger over his bicep, nibbling on the inside of his cheek as if he's thinking about it and you think you might have convinced him, but then he shakes his head again and this time he's halfway turning around with a hand raised.

"Sorry, but I'm just not interested. Good luck with your search though." then he leaves, catching up with his friends. Your jaw literally drops. He asked all those questions just to fucking say no?! 

In his defense he was surprisingly polite, but you couldn't care less about that as you feel your frustration start to fester, all the events of the day coming to a boiling point. Without thinking and with really nothing to lose, you yell:

"You owe me, you asshole!"

and he turns, so damn fast you're surprised he didn't get whiplash. His face was just screaming for you to repeat that and you did. Gladly.

"You think I don't know? sleeping around with girls that are already taken!?"

you don't even know when it happened or how in the world he moved so fast but you're suddenly pushed back into campus with a very strong hand, dragged into a random empty lecture hall as if you weren't a fully grown adult yourself and then despite how much Geto tried to whisper, he echoed in the large room.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He demands while looming over you and usually you'd be intimidated by a man as dominating as him but in this current moment you could only glare and channel every nerve of frustration into the conversation.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" You press a finger into his hard chest. "Sleeping with someone that's already taken- Do you have any idea how hard I worked, how long I slaved away at this show just to have it ruined because you couldn't keep it in your pants for someone that's available?!"

Geto’s eye twitches, and for a moment, you think he’s going to yell back at you. But instead, he takes a step back, running a hand through his messy hair and forces himself to stay calm.

“Look,” he says, “I don’t know what you think you know, but whatever happened between me and... whoever, it’s not my fault your show is falling apart.”

You let out a bitter laugh, looking away and shaking your head. “Cecilia. And of course, it’s not your fault. It’s never the other person's fault, right? You just waltz into people’s lives, do whatever the hell you want, and leave them and others to deal with the mess.”

Geto’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he stares down at you. “I didn’t ask that girl to be unfaithful, I didn't even know she was, and I sure as hell didn’t ask to be dragged into this drama. So why don’t you stop blaming me for your problems?”

“oh, my bad, you’re right. You didn’t ask for this so that just means all of the problems you had a hand in just fall away." You take a step closer, teetering the edge of calm and blowing a fuse, " I don't know if anyone's ever told you this, but your actions have consequences you know. Whether you like it or not, you’re part of the reason why things went south. Why I don't have my lead anymore. You could at least try to be an adult about it by taking some responsibility instead of just acting innocent.” Your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket, and you see it's Mai texting you, but you quickly turn it off.

You don't see his expression soften slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he considers your words. “And you really think being in your play is going to make up for it?”

Your ears perk when you hear the opportunity in his voice and you look back at him, noticing how he seems to be considering you, “It’s a start,” you plead, “I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got. I’ve worked so hard on this, and I’m not ready to give it all up when I'm so close to the end."

You watch his chest rise and fall with a deep breath as he turns his head to look away from you and instead at the empty seats in the lecture hall. Long lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks every time he blinks. You hate the fact that you think about how unfairly attractive he is in the moment. After a long pause, he finally looks back at you, his expression unreadable.

“Fine,” he says quietly and your eyes widen. “I’ll audition. But that’s all I’m promising. If I don’t like it, I’m out.”

You can't control how shocked you look when he acquiesces. Honestly, you didn't expect anything out of this after calling him out the way you did and just started running your mouth to let off some steam, but maybe he really did feel bad. “s-seriously? Oh my god, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he warns, the seriousness in his tone cutting through your relief. “Like I said, this doesn’t mean I’m committed. I’ll give it a shot, but if I’m not into it, that’s it.”

“I understand,” you say, quickly nodding. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Geto takes a step back, leaning on the edge of the lecturers table with one palm holding his wrist. “So when should I come in to audition?”

"Uh-... " Your mind runs blank, you hadn't expected to come this far. You scramble for your phone to check the schedule you’d painstakingly put together, but not a single slot was available. "How's tomorrow afternoon?" You look at him.

Geto raises an eyebrow. “Afternoon works. What time are we talking?”

You tap on your phone screen with your painted nail, trying to appear confident despite the nerves. “How about 4pm?”

“Sounds good," he tilts his head and his eyes get smaller like he's plotting something. "but only if you agree to one condition.”

"condition?”

"yes," a witty smile plays on his lips. “I want an iced coffee,"  His shoulders raise as he shrugs. "It's the least you could do after nearly tarnishing my name out there."

You blink, momentarily taken aback by such an innocent request. “uh, yeah sure. I can do that. Is that all?"

He gives you a pointed look before he walks over to you. You feel yourself straighten by the approach. "You make it sound like that's an easy condition, but I'm a very hard man to satisfy." He stops in front of you, and you have to crane your neck to keep eye-contact. "But for now, yes." his eyes flicker between yours and the faint smell of cologne consumes you. "That's all."

You get a bit overwhelmed by his unwavering eyes so you look away into your tote bag. You swear he becomes just a little bit smug by it. "And, um, here’s the script." You pull out your personal script since it was the only one you had on hand. When Geto looks at the worn-out, slightly crumpled script covered in handwritten notes, annotations, and sticky tabs, his gaze softens, and he takes it tentatively from you.

“I know it looks like a mess, but it’s got all the notes and directions you’ll need. Just ignore the scribbles if they get in your way—most of it is just me trying to make sense of everything.” You adjust your bag strap sheepishly while Geto cards through the pages with his thumb. 

"You're really passionate about this." He glances at you and you're not even paying attention to him anymore. Your eyes are trained on the script in his hands like it was your holy bible and it might as well have been.

"Hm, I've been working on it since the start of the semester. I'm hoping to get picked up with this bad boy." You look back at him, and you're suddenly giving off a much softer vibe. He thought how strange it was that you saw no issue in handing over probably your most prized possession to a complete stranger. He sighs and then tucks the script to his side. "I’ll see you at the audition, then.”

You smile back at him. "hm, see you then. And thank again. Really."

he hums and walks past you to the door, brushing his arm against yours where you could feel the cold fabric touch your skin, the tension in your chest finally starts to ease. Just as he reaches the exit, he pauses and glances back at you.

“And for the record,” he adds, his voice carrying easily across the empty room, “you’ve got guts. Not many people would call me out like that.”

With that, he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You stand there for a moment, still processing everything that just happened. Your heart is still racing, but it’s no longer from anger or frustration. It’s from a strange, tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, things might work out after all. When you leave the class you're surprised to see Mai just a meter away, gnawing at her nails with the most horrified expression on her face. When she sees you she doesn't waste time to grab your arm and drag you out of the campus building. "I told you to convince him to audition, not fucking call him out, you idiot!"

You laugh at her, holding her hand that's on your forearm. "Do I have some good news for you."

✧You're all caught up!

[morose-melodies]

a quiet place x yandere! childe

childe lay motionless in the snow - worn and exhausted from fighting, he would have never imagined being tired of the very thing he sought after day in and day out.

but, childe was exhausted and did not want to fight anymore - no, he wanted to go home with you, he wanted to take you back home and he wanted to take you ice fishing just as he promised you, he wanted to leave the fatui and grow a family with you.

he doubted it would come true - not after he told you to run and stuck behind to fight. he doubted you ran too far off, not when he was actively protecting you from these monsters. you wouldn't do that to him, right?

childe was physically weakened after activating his foul legacy repeatedly to fight these monsters - to keep them at bay while you ran.

and he would do it again but, archons, he was exhausted.

childe huffed, lifting his head from the snow - his face felt numb and he felt faint. he should get up; he had to find you, but he *did not want to*.

not when he could rest, not when he could sleep for a while-

childe slowly stood up, anyway. he couldn't leave you out here alone. he saw your footprints in the snow - you had run off towards the stream, of course you did.

so, he followed your footprints, albeit at a slow pace, he would reach you soon enough... unless those creatures had gotten to you first... unless you had *actually ran away... unless-

childe was running, his chest aching as he forced himself to move faster. *if you were dead he would never forgive hims-

there you were.

he stilled, and a small smile twitched onto his lips, "(y/n)," he lowered his voice - he did not want to alarm those creatures again, not while you were resting.

you have been losing your mind these past few days, ever since those monsters came crashing down on snezhnaya. childe had been struggling to keep you sane - he was struggling to stay sane himself.

sitting down beside you, childe sighed, "didn't you say you wanted to get out of snezhnaya?" those words got your attention and you nodded, "i did, yeah. um, i wanted to go to-"

"it doesn't matter where we go; we should just leave, right?"

"yeah, but-"

"we'll go to liyue, that'll be nice."

your shoulders slumped and childe scooted closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours, "you think these monsters are everywhere?"

"I don't know," you replied, looking down at your lap, as childe's oversized coat slipped off of your shoulder. childe tugged the coat back onto your before saying, "i wish we could, i don't know, stay right here - right here by the stream."

"hm? why, it's really cold-"

"yeah, i know that but i miss talking to you. it gets lonely not being able to talk..." trailing off, childe dropped his hand back to his side.

"mhm," you hummed, glancing over at childe and watching as a bead of sweat ran down his forehand, "you okay?"

"hm? yeah, I guess so," he replied, wiping the sweat away with the back of his hand, before standing up, holding his hand out for you to take, "let's go, (y/n), let's go to liyue."

[minminyoonjii]

I need birthday triplets Felix Han and reader where the other members worship the three. I’ve seen so many stories where the reader has their brithday and gets all the praise and worshipping, but I know many (me included) who share their birthday with a member

I can’t stop thinking about it 🥹

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🕯Summary: Birthday Babies deserve a thorough pounding, including you. There's no escape once you're in.

🌹CW

Handjob|Squirting|Multiple Orgasms|Very Rough Sex|Praise Kink|Wet & Messy|Spitroasting|Dirty Talk|Threesome|Cum Eating|Cum Play|Facials|Untouched Orgasms|Blowjob|Face Fucking|Double Penetration|Orgy|Spanking|Scratching|Mating Press |Coaxing|Teasing|Dom! OT6|Degrading Praise Kink|Free Use Aes|Manhandling|Exhibitionism|Everyone Likes It Rough|Aftercare

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.3K

"Lixxie, did you get any messages from the boys?" you asked, nibbling on your bottom lip. He shook his head, "None, it's like radio silence," he murmured, hooking his leg over your waist. You moved your head, "Sungie, what about you?" you asked, rubbing his cheeks. Jisung gulped, shaking his head, "Nothing from my side either," he said, sulking against your palm. 

All three of you felt your hearts sink, "You don't think they forgot about us right?" you whispered, sighing deeply. Felix clicked his tongue, "No way, Stays have been boasting about it since September began. There's no way right?" he whispered, trying to find hope in your eyes when a soft hic came from Jisung. "What if they actually did?" he cried, tears spilling down his cheeks. 

You teared up too, empathy running high, "If you cry I'll cry," you sobbed, burrowing into his chest. Felix's lips wobbled, "You can't have a cry session without me," he hiccuped, clinging close, crying against your neck. Your cries were far from quiet. It was deliberately loud for attention. The boys swung open the door, seeing the three of you bundled together with tears streaming down your puffy cheeks. 

Chan brushed back your hair, "What's wrong, bubs? What's got you so upset?" He asked, giving a give big hug. Felix sniffled, "Not one of you wished us happy birthday," he sulked, squinting at them with his tear brimmed eyes. Seungmin frowned, "We didn't mean to make you feel neglected. It's just that we got distracted by work," he explained, rubbing Felix's nape. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows, "What work? We're off for today," he asked, looking at him. 

Minho stepped in, "Since you three decided to have a cuddle day, we prepared a little something," he said, pinching Jisung's cheek. You perked up, "What is it?" You asked, excitement buzzing through your body. Changbin chuckled, "Why don't you come find out?" he asked, easily carrying Felix in his arms. Chan carried Jisung and Minho carried you, "I swear to God, we leave you alone for a bit and it's suddenly a sob fest," Minho teased, bopping your nose. 

You giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. They walked into the kitchen, the dining table filled with your favorite dishes and cake. "Woah!" Felix exclaimed, seeing everything. The group placed you in your seats, "Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday to our Sunshines. Happy Birthday to you," they sang, taking a video of your reactions. 

You beamed, nuzzling your partners, "Thank you," you said, blowing the candles with Jilix. Hyunjin smirked, standing behind the three of you, "Now to make your wishes come through," he teased, locking collars around your necks. You gulped, staring at the hungry gazes watching your every move. You held Jisung and Felix's hand, "We're fucked," you murmured. Jisung nodded, "Totally fucked," he answered.

"Too big, hah hhgh," Felix moaned, clawing Minho's chest. Minho chuckled, keeping his relentless pace, "But you love my big girthy cock," he teased, thrusting his cock deeper past Felix's puffy rim. Felix groaned, tossing his head back as Minho’s throbbing cock head brushed against his prostate, "There, hyung. There," he babbled, digging his nails into Minho's shoulders. 

Minho hooked his arms under Felix's thighs, "Shh, shh. I know," he  growled, pounding his cock at those sensitive bundles of nerves. Felix's back arched, his cock dribbling precum all over his torso, "Hah, fuck, fuck. I'm cumming, hyung," he sobbed, crying out from the constant pleasure buzzing through his body. "Cum for hyung, baby boy. Let hyung see your pretty cock get messy," Minho grunted, pumping Felix's cock in tandem with his thrusts. 

His fingers rubbed the sensitive tissue under Felix's hard red cockhead. Felix released a loud broken moan, cumming hard onto his chest. Streaks of white painted his pale skin. His jaw slacked with drool drying by the sides. Minho cooed, keeping the tip of his cock pressed against Felix's swollen prostate, "Take a breather, baby. Let's hear the others scream," he chuckled, hearing Jisung whine out behind him. 

Seungmin gripped Jisung's hair, his cock buried deep down his throat, "Your throat was just meant for cock, prince," he chuckled, thrusting his hips at a languid pace. Jeongin hissed, his cock clenched hard within Jisung's tight ribbed walls, "Keep praising, he loves it," he groaned, spanking Jisung's plump ass. Seungmin smirked, hearing Jisung gag around his cockhead, "You're doing so well, pretty boy. Warm tight mouth feeling so good around me," he cooed, stroking Jisung's cheek. 

Jeongin picked up his pace, thrusting at a merciless pace. Drawing muffled whines and whimpers from Jisung. "Fuck sake. I don't think I can hold it if you're mmh gonna keep, hah doing that," he growled, thrusting his cock in tandem with Jeongin's pace. "Cumming, fuck, fuck," Jeongin cried out, pumping his hot searing load up Jisung's tight hole. Seungmin hissed, ejaculating down Jisungs throat soon after, "Good job, you did so good," he rasped, stroking Jisung's hard. 

Hyunjin chuckled, "Poor baby, came untouched twice. His poor leaky cock looks spent," he teased, tugging on Jisung's  veiny cock. Jeongin whimpered when Jisung clenched hard around his shaft, "Shit, shit, shit. Hyung!" He exclaimed, swatting at Hyunjin. "Sorry, sorry," Hyunjin cooed, kissing Jisungs forehead. Drool dripped down your lips, your mind hazy and clouded by pleasure overwhelming your senses. 

Chan easily manhandled your body up and down his and Changbin's cock. Your cunt was stuffed to brim with Changbin's girthy wide cock. Chan's cock buried deep up your ass, your holes puffy and swollen from their constant deep thrusts. You stared up at Hyunjin with a dazed look, orgasm after orgasm pulled from your pliant body. "Such a creamy hole, your puffy cunt is just leaking with cum isn't it?" he asked, swiping the ring of cum by the base of Changbin's cock and tasted it. 

Chan groaned, "Go give Lixie some attention, he's been hard since Minho allowed him to rest," he grunted, rubbing your swollen clit from the back. Changbin latched on your nipples, his teeth and tongue stimulating your body to the brink. "Hah, huh, hhgh, hah," you slurred, barely coherent with your words. Hyunjin held your jaw, kissing you softly, "Sweet," he whispered, sucking  on your tongue. Your eyes rolled back, quivering around their cocks as your orgasm squirted onto Changbin's lap. 

Changbin growled, pumping a heavy load up your womb, coating every part white, "Shit, angel. You took me off guard," he chuckled, kissing your jaw. Hyunjin pulled away, "Don't make her pass out," he teased, walking towards Felix. "How's my little boy?" He asked, stroking Felix's leaking cock. Felix bucked his hips, craving the friction, "Feel good, Hyunnie," he slurred, moaning quietly at the pleasing pleasure. 

Hyunjin smiled, aligning his cock with Felix's, "Rest, I'll take care of you," he reassured, pumping his wrist around their cocks. His hand easily held them in between. "Hah, hah, hhgh,”  Felix whined,  clawing the couch below as he obediently took the pleasure Hyunjin gave. Hyunjin groaned, rubbing their slits with his other hand, "Mmh, feels good doesn't it, hah, ah, fuck," he grunted, stroking their cocks at a needy pace. 

Felix whimpered, "Cumming, cumming!" he cried, painting his torso white once more, his cum hitting his chin. Hyunjin growled at the sight, ejaculating hard onto Felix's face. Felix moaned at the warm facial, darting his tongue out to taste. Hyunjin  felt his cock twitch, "Fuck, baby. You're so perfect," he said in awe, kissing Felix's nose.

"Aww, look at them," Chan cooed, tucking the three of you in warm cosy blankets. Minho chuckled, "They look too innocent. It's dangerous," he teased, putting a plush in each of your arms. You whined and squinted at them with tired eyes. Seungmin stroked your hair, "Go back to sleep," he whispered, humming a soft lullaby. It didn't take long for the three of you to melt into the mattress with smiles on your face.

[hispg]

I will make you forget

Pairings: Roommate! Leon x Fem! Reader

Wc: 2.3k

Summary: After a guy you were dating suddenly ends things with you, you feel bad and blame yourself for the situation. But your roommate Leon promises to make you forget what happened.

Warnings: Porn without plot, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), cowgirl, jealousy, praise, dirty talking, overstimulation, pet names.

An: I'm thinking a bit too much about roommate Leon, so there is.

Your day was a mess. Things hadn't worked out at college, apart from the fact that the guy you were meeting just broke things off with you. Over the phone.

You had already noticed his strange behavior over the last few days, but you didn't think things would escalate like this. You thought it would work out this time, and you ended up having a lot of feelings for him.

The first thing you thought of was going back to your apartment, which you shared with a man called Leon, who, by the way, was a great roommate.

And since he wasn't home these days, you could be more free to cry without having to give too many explanations.

You did just that. You stormed into the apartment, ran to your room, and lay down on your bed, curling up like a ball and sobbing your heart out. It was pathetic the way you were still wearing the clothes you'd worn to meet the guy, the idiotic way that this was hurting you in such a manner.

Since you were crying so much, you didn't even notice when Leon came home, steps quiet and silent as always. He thought you weren't home, but that changed as soon as he heard the whimpering coming from your room.

Through the crack in the door, he saw you curled up in the bed, crying a lot. This worried him, and he instinctively went over to your bed, sat down next to you, and put a gentle hand on your back.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, looking at you with a gentle, worried gaze.

You turned to him, your eyes red and swollen, and tears streaming down your face.

"N-nothing..." You said in a sob, hiding your face in the sheets.

He obviously didn't buy your conversation, but he had an answer as soon as he saw a notification on your cell phone, it was from a boy. From the message, he immediately guessed that things hadn't worked out for you, he saw the way you'd been excited over the last few weeks.

He couldn't deny the feeling of jealousy he felt when you talked about the other boy, wishing you were excited about him. But he never had the courage to confess anything to you.

He kept comforting you until you felt better, saying sweet words and caressing you, and this brought you a strange sense of peace.

"You shouldn't cry about these things." He says, his palm caressing your cheek.

You let out a sniffle, sitting up in bed and looking at him. You tried to force a smile, but it didn't work.

He laughed quietly, then said, "Can I do something to make you forget that?"

You looked at him puzzled, then nodded.

He brought his face close to yours, his hand now lifting your chin, his lips met yours, and he gave you a soft, sweet kiss.

"You just need a little love," he murmurs during the kiss, his other hand holding your waist.

You kiss him back, enjoying the feel of his soft lips. He pulls you against him, making you feel the firmness of his body on yours.

It wasn't long before he was gently laying you down on the bed, on top of you.

His hands were now sliding down your body, squeezing and massaging the tense points, his lips not leaving yours for a second.

Once he left your lips, his eyes analyzed you from head to toe, seeing you with your lips parted, lying on the bed, and looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Such a beautiful little thing." He purrs, giving your thigh a little stroke.

You gasped, arching your body a little towards him, your mind a mess, all you could feel was how hot your body was getting. That's because he hadn't done anything yet, just a few kisses, and you could already feel your panties starting to get wet. Imagine when he actually did something?

Suddenly, his hands moved under your thighs, making you spread your legs for him, the grin he gave as soon as he saw that... It was enough to elicit a low whimper from you.

"What a pretty little princess, you don't know how much I've fantasized about it." An almost inaudible whisper, not least because his focus wasn't on you hearing him.

Why was that? Well, his mouth was very busy licking and sucking on your inner thighs, leaving slight marks here and there. His big, warm hands gripping your ass firmly, while he made you moan softly with just those kisses.

"That's so good..." You hum, running your fingers through his hair, and this apparently turned him on even more.

He nodded and was bold enough to run his tongue down your panties, teasing you over the fabric. The bastard went right for your clit, only to draw a sweet moan from your lips.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, urgently needing more contact. Seeing this, he gave a slight grunt, pulling your panties down, licking his lips as soon as he saw your fluids dripping down delicately.

"Fucking pretty." He said, brushing his fingers over your entrance, moving them up and down.

You began to grind against his fingers, begging him with your eyes to do something. Oh, and he certainly did.

He put two fingers in at once, moaning at the way he managed to slide in so easily. You were so wet, and so tight for him.

His fingers curved around you, finding your sweet spots, and with his other free hand he pulled your shirt up along with your bra. He began to fondle your breasts, pinching the nipples between his fingers until they were hard.

By then you were letting his name escape your lips more and more, squirming under him.

"Fucking beautiful," he purrs, placing his lips on your nipple, swirling his tongue around it, "Fucking hot."

"Mhmhm, feels so good..." You moaned, pushing his head against your breast even harder, his fingers moving in and out, curving around and hitting your favorite spots again and again.

The way his voice vibrated on your skin with each moan, you could clearly see him rutting against your thigh. He wanted so much to make you his, to put his cock deep inside you, to fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

But he needed to taste you first, he needed to make you come at least twice. He wanted to make your body feel numb from how good he was going to make you feel.

"I'm close..." You moan, arching your body and clutching the covers in an effort to hold on anywhere.

His smile grew, he stopped sucking your breast, and to your surprise he began to leave a trail of kisses, starting at your chest and going down, belly, navel, crotch, thighs, and finally where you wanted it most, right at your core.

Another cry came from your lips, your eyes rolling back in your head as you felt his tongue lapping at your clit. His fingers are still moving quickly, in and out.

"Come on, cum for me, I want to taste you." He murmured against your abused hole, redoubling his efforts. He was more than willing to make you come.

You were a whimpering mess, writhing and calling his name. At this point, all the sounds in the room were yours, the impure moans and phrases you never imagined would come out of your mouth.

What you needed was a little push, and he did it, taking his fingers out of you and holding your ass with both hands, sinking his face into your pussy.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." You moaned, pushing his head even further, your thighs pressed against his face.

Once he started fucking you with his tongue, it was over. Your body arched, your eyes went to the back of your head and you whimpered so loudly. As if you'd been to heaven and hell all at once.

Your liquids being sucked by him, sparing no drop. He needed to taste you, a taste he fantasized about too much. He never broke eye contact, you could see him staring at you as he stuck out his tongue and licked your center.

It was so erotic, you were getting all wet once again. Feeling your body heat up even more in the aftermath of orgasm.

Without warning, he let your legs fall onto the bed, and he pulled you into a tongue kiss, making you taste yourself on his lips. You moaned together, seeing how impure the whole situation was. The next thing you heard was his belt, soon followed by the sound of a zipper opening.

As if it were a magic trick, he removed his own clothes, leaving him naked. He helps you remove the few pieces left on your body, and just when you thought he was going to mount you and get on top, he doesn't.

On the contrary, he sits on the bed and spreads his legs, with a naughty smile on his face.

"Give me a ride, pretty girl." He purrs, his erection resting on his stomach.

You bite your lip, looking at his full body, and of course you knew he was hot. But seeing him live was something else.

The defined muscles, the six-pack he had, the pale skin that looked so.. Markable. Your head was soon invaded by these thoughts.

And without you even realizing it, your lips were on his chest, leaving light wet kisses, and one of your hands touched his erection, giving it a light stroke.

"Keep going..." He whispered, ruffling your hair and leaning further back on the bed, giving you room to do whatever you wanted.

You licked, nibbled, rubbed and literally feasted on his chest. It was well worth it, as you heard his soft moans from time to time. As well as the generous layer of pre-cum that dripped onto your fingers.

Seeing this, he was quick to pull you by the hips and place you on his lap, your entrance just above his tip. Just a few centimeters away.

He was desperate, he needed to feel what it was like to fuck you, how well he was going to be able to stretch your walls.

His hips begin to buck upwards, threatening to enter you at once. His hands run up your back, each one stopping on your shoulders.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he captured your lips in a hot, sensual kiss, drawing sweet sounds from you.

With a little force he pushed you down, putting his head inside, eliciting moans and whimpers from both parties.

He was at a point where he couldn't wait, so he thrust his hips upwards as he put you down, making sure he penetrated you all at once.

"Leon!" You moaned at the sudden action, your nails digging into his back.

A wicked grin was his response, and he began to move, while you also grinded against him, both of you moving in sync.

"All you needed was someone to fuck you, didn't you? Someone to claim your pussy?" He purred sensually, rocking into you a little harder.

You nodded, you were being so dumbed down by that cock, going in and out, going so deep and stretching you so well. You couldn't think straight.

Your response was a whimper, your lips parted and you bounced on his cock, as if for the last time.

You could still feel your cunt burning and sensitive from the last orgasm, but who cared? It made things even more exciting somehow.

His hands went down to your ass, separating them and holding them tightly, slamming his cock into you even harder, and you followed the movements.

"Fucking tight, so perfect for me." He growled, leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Mhmhm..." You babble, holding on tightly to his shoulders. You could feel your walls clenching around him, just as he was almost there, too.

Once again his lips find your breast, taking it once more. His tongue playing shamelessly on your nipple.

You were only mumbling things here and there at this point, and you can bet that you sounded just as dumb. Not that you cared much.

"Go on, baby. Come for me, I want to feel it one more time." Fuck, the way he looked at you when he whispered to you.

Your lips open to let out a little squeak, you were so close to the edge.

You obeyed, as if your body was just waiting for this command to finish, you just managed to mutter, "I'm going to come!" Which came out more in the form of a moan than anything else.

And there you went, wetting his cock. The sensation was so overwhelming that you thought you'd pass out. As if your body was numb after yet another orgasm.

He grunted, fucking you with even more fervor, "Fuck, squeeze me harder like that."

That was enough to drive him crazy, with a deep thrust followed by a loud groan he came, filling you with his cum. White cream oozed out of you, his fluids mixing with yours and making a mess.

He kissed you, in a way to calm your nerves, a hot, sloppy tongue kiss, with lots of moans and grunts in between.

"Thank you." You whispered, a shy smile appearing on your lips.

He chuckled, kissing you on the cheek, "You're welcome."

After a few kisses, he rolled you over in bed, snuggling into you and ruffling your hair as you closed your eyes.

"There's a Halloween party in town tomorrow, do you want to go with me?" Leon wasn't much of a party guy, but if it meant spending more time with you, he didn't mind.

Your face lit up, and you hugged him, "Sure, I'd love to go with you."

He sighed contentedly, kissing your forehead, "Well, is going to be a nice day."

You nodded, snuggling with him. It was more than enough to have a date with him. A while later, you were cuddled up, sleeping peacefully.

Who would have thought that on a day like today you'd find this kind of comfort? Things had definitely taken a different turn.

And you loved it, and so did he.

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 3: Taming the Beast

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! Mentions of smut, eventual filthy smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

.......

series inspired by the art below!

You were more than lucky that no one caught you going down to konig's quarters last week on the night of the autumn harvest ball. You made sure to keep your interactions with him the following days very brief, if you even saw him at all. this was all for his sake, so that he wouldn't be thrown out of the castle - or worse - on accusations that he seduced the Austrian royal family's princess. not that it wouldn't be the truth, but you were the one who pursued him first, after all.

you found that you could hardly concentrate during your routine literature or violin courses. your eyes would always wander out the window, scouring the fields or training area for the hooded giant. but just like his living quarters, he must train in secret, for he was rarely seen outside of the castle during daylight hours. some nights, you'd spot him from your bedroom window, washing his clothes in the moonlit stream. you wanted to call out to him, but surely others would hear, and it wasn't safe. you wished you could be like Rapunzel, to just let down your hair for him to climb to your room like a storybook prince. but you were no Rapunzel, and he was certainly no prince.

it was too risky for you to sneak down to his quarters now that things had settled down after the ball. you thought endlessly on how to get more time alone with him, to just even speak to him, even if you would be the one doing most of the speaking.

crime in your country actually seemed to almost stop now that konig was the royal family's executioner. everyone was scared of him, and of his axe. to be killed by konig was a death like no other, even though he made it swift and painless. needless to say, castle life was getting a little boring. you had enough of the routine, enough of the shy, virgin-like smiles you sent his way on the rare occasion you saw him. he was the most interesting person you've ever met.

and konig couldn't get it out of his head how you said that fire just needed to be handled properly. he replayed that night over and over again in his mind, pondering your words with every free moment he got. he couldn't admit to himself that he missed you: from your kindness and smile to your plump hips and squeezable breasts. that cloth you gave him didn't make it three days before it was soiled with his essence as he jerked off to unholy thoughts of you. he pretended to not notice the way you would owlishly stare at him from your bedroom window when he was trying to wash his clothing.

but you couldn't think of a way to see him alone again, until tonight. you watched as konig cleaned his clothes under the light of a crescent moon, but he seemed to forget a piece of clothing as he left. no one else would've been able to see the black cloth if they hadn't already known it was there. you jumped up from your daybed by the window and smiled as a plan formed in your head. much like the night of the banquet the week prior, you slipped on a cloak and some loose boots before sneaking out of the castle. it wasn't uncommon for you to take walks at night, even before konig arrived, so that alone wouldn't arouse any suspicion. the silence of the night and the cold glimmer of the moon were often your only companions.

you pretended to follow the streambank lazily, as if you weren't making a bee line for the cloth, as if it wasn't the only reason you came out tonight. the knights each had their area that they guarded every night, and you had long ago memorized each of their paths and schedules. they were no threat to your plan. when you finally approached the black cloth lying on the ground, you sat down and gently pulled it under your dress with your foot. you carefully folded the garment under your cloak and tucked it under your arm before you sat down and admired the stream for a little while, like you usually did. the easy part was over. now, you had to figure out how to get to konig's quarters without being seen.

there was no way you could march right past the knights like you did last time. there were too many servants about, and your sisters often stayed up later than they should've, just like you. you aimlessly wandered the castle grounds as you thought, and remembered that there were secret passages throughout the castle that were only supposed to be used in times of an emergency. surely returning the executioner's forgotten clothing to him was an emergency?

you walked back to your room, to trick the servants and knights into thinking you were going to bed, before you entered one of the secret passages to the basement. it was hidden behind a painting that rested on the floor rather than hung. only you knew about it, somehow. maybe no one else ever bothered to wonder why one painting wasn't hung out of the thousands that already adorned the castle.

you could risk bringing no torch with you, so you braced the cold darkness of the passages and followed them down. in your younger years, you would often hide in these passages from your sisters, or when someone made you upset and you couldn't get away. but you had never been past the main level. but down you went, until you reached the trapdoor exit and were right in the middle of the basement servant's quarters. they all seemed to be asleep, so you quietly climbed onto the floor and descended down konig's staircase. you were slightly more confident this time since you've visited him before, but it was still like knocking on death's door.

you gently knocked and whispered his name. you heard the bed creak, and he opened the door a moment later. he didn't look all that surprised to see you, like he did last time. he wordlessly looked down at you.

right as you were about to hand his discarded garment to him, you realized that he might find it creepy how you knew he left a piece of black clothing, outside, at night, while you were supposed to be asleep. you blushed, and pursed your lips shut. he tilted his hooded head to show he was confused. but he already knew you watched him, so would it really be that weird? you couldn't think of an easy excuse as to why else you would be down here, knocking on his door in the dead of night. so, you timidly handed him his folded garment that he left by the stream.

"you...left this," you said quietly without meeting his eyes. he gently reached and took the garment from your hands. you lowered your head in shame as you realized you had become a stalker. you were about to turn to leave when his voice pierced the air, even though he spoke very quietly.

"can you handle fire?"

you looked up at him with wide eyes, and you must've looked like a spooked animal. you chewed the inside of your cheek.

"i'd like to think that I can," you responded breathlessly.

his silence gave you the idea that he was satisfied with your answer. but his gaze was so heavy that you could barely control your mouth before you blurted,

"i'm sorry i'm not stalking you i just think you're really interesting."

his eyes widened at that, and you blushed as you realized what you had just said. you turned to run up the stairs, needing to get away from his all-knowing gaze, before his strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into his room. he shut the door with his other hand and pushed you somewhat roughly against his hard, wooden door. his body caged you in as he leaned an elbow above your head and curved his back down so that your eyes were level while his other hand hung at his side. giving you an escape if you wanted. but you couldn't will your body to move. you had awoken a beast.

"you should not talk to me," he warned through gritted teeth.

you could barely breathe. "why?"

his eyes went up and down your frame before he gulped and answered.

"bad idea," he rasped.

you were truly a lamb caught within the wolf's jaws. your breath grew labored.

"I don't think so," you whispered.

"i am an executioner. you are a princess," he said, almost angrily.

you looked him in his eyes, and he truly had the look of a predator. his pupils were pinpricks swimming within a sea of grey-blue. "i don't care."

it seemed he tried to restrain himself with some hidden leash, with the way his body trembled as he caged you in. was he aroused? angry? scared? you couldn't tell.

"i will ruin you," he stated.

your body went on autopilot. you smirked.

"i'd like to see you try."

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful

very filthy smut next chapter!!!!!

[oncasette]

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

how about... "you shouldn't have touched them. every single mark on their body is going to be returned to yours." wiiith our mans eric northman!

please, thank you, love youuu!!! 🩵🩵

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

or the one where eric saves you from an anti-vampire rights enthusiast.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, death, kidnapping, stabbing

a/n: i know i said drabbles but i couldn't contain myself. i am violently ill with my love for this man.

masterlist | taglist

You think you're dying. surely. There's no way the human body would be able to endure this much pain without ultimately giving up the ghost, right? 

You never should have gotten involved with vampires. They were nothing but a bucket of trouble, as your mother would have put it. And has she had put it, a multitude of times, before she'd ever even known you'd applied to work at Shreveport's resident vampire bar. 

What she didn't know, though, was how incredible they could be. How, even without all their supernatural abilities, intensely good they could be when they decided they wanted. How loyal and caring and kind when they chose to do so. Just how beautiful they could be, fangs and all. 

‘Course, there still was that whole bucket of trouble thing. 

"You sure are pretty for a fangbanger," your captor drawled from where he was watching you from across the room. He'd tied you to a chair at the center of it, thick scratchy ropes binding your wrists to the unlaquered wood beneath you. You spit, knowing that it won't reach the man from this distance, but hoping, almost willing it to hit him squarely between the eyes. 

“Fuck you,” you say.

“Ooh,” he whistles. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you, sweet cheeks. Why waste it on one of those dead fuckers when you could have someone with an actual, bleeding fucking heart?”

“You’re a waste of skin, you piece of shit,” you huff. Not that it was any of his goddamn business, anyway, but you had only ever slept with one man, and it sure as shit hadn’t been one of your bosses.

“Aw, c’mon. I bet you get so cold after one of them vampers is inside you, don’t you. All icy and chilly like. Let me give you a little tip, sweetheart. Humans. Need. Warmth.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a fucking sad sack,” you say. “What a sorry excuse for a human, huh?”

“What’d they do to you, huh, girl? Did they glamor you into only wanting a dead man’s dick?” he asks, slowly shifting and standing from his stool so that he could approach you. Despite their constant–and half-hearted–threats, you’d never been glamored by your vampire coworkers. Your breathing shakes as he approaches in swift steps. It’s then that you see the knife in his hand. 

For the first time in a long time, you realize, genuine fear strikes through you. 

“I’m gonna teach those vampers a lesson,” he says. “And you’re going to help me do that.”

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

The knife trails along your collarbone. You're glad it was as dull as it was, knowing if it'd been sharper it would be slicing the skin open in its path down. Then he presses down harder. You can’t muffle the whine as it escapes you, no matter how much you want to. No matter how desperately you wish to not show the man that he holds any power over you. You can feel the blood seeping out of the wound. It dribbles down your chest in a thick stream as it pools and stains the gray cotton of your t-shirt.

“Stop!” you plead. He chuckles before driving the blade deeper into you. With feeble force, you try to get him off with a stunted kick to his knee; It was all you could manage with the way your knees had been duct-taped together. 

“Bitch!” he heaves before rearing back to slap you with the bladeless hand. It slashes your cheek, shallowly, thankfully, but you can feel the ache of where his hand had connected with your cheekbone. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He takes the knife and stabs it into your side, just narrowly missing your ribcage. 

Before you can manage out even a wince, the door to the small shack you’d been held in for the last few hours splinters and it unceremoniously removed from its hinges. 

Eric says nothing as he rushes in. You barely register that it’s him save for the split second image you’d captured from where he’d lingered in the doorway. Your captor is off of you instantly, though you’re still bound to the chair. Eric stills. Wind warps around him as he does so, wrapping him in a flurry of movement as he stands with the man locked in his grasp. 

“You never should have fucking touched her,” Eric growls with his fangs fully extended, grip tightening around the burly man’s neck and raising him inches off the ground. There’s not even a hint of the usual smirk you were so accustomed to seeing. “Every single mark on her body will be returned unto you tenfold.”

“She fucking deserved it,” he gargles as the vampire latches onto the expanse of neck not currently held within his hand. The man screams out in anguish and you pull your eyes tight to avoid watching any more. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hearing. The screams and the rips and the crunches. You hear something hard and solid hit the floor and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’s bone. 

You hear the man gasp out a dead fuck only for Eric’s grasp to tighten fully, effectively severing the man’s skull from his spinal chord without detaching it from his body. The man drops to the floor with a loud thump and Eric shoves the corpse away with the toe of his shoe before he moves toward you. 

“What took you so long?” you exhaled as he moved behind you to unbind your wrists. 

“I was away on business,” he gruffs, spitting slightly to get the last of the man’s blood out of his mouth. He’d already drunk his fair share, you thought, what good what that do?

Swallowing, you ask, “And you still came?”

He walks back around to begin undoing the restraints on your legs. He’s being so gentle, you realize. If he’d wanted, he could have had this done within seconds and yet, here he was, tenderly undoing the tape and rope and rubbing a soothing hand over the abraded skin. 

“I’ll always come for you,” he says. “Until I meet the true death, I will always come for you.”

He extends his wrist up to his mouth and you wince as he punctures the flesh. 

“Eric,” you sigh. 

“Drink,” he says. 

Nodding, you allow him to bring his wrist to your mouth and latch down on the leaking wound. It’s tangy and metallic and overall pretty gross, but you’re more than grateful for it at that moment. You lick your lips when he pulls his arm back down, the small bite marks already well on their way to closing completely. 

“Will you take me home?” you ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the wave of fatigue hitting you. 

He rises back to his full height and extends a hand out towards you. The second you grab it, he’s pulling you up from your chair to hold you flush against his form. Then, in another rush of wind, you’re standing on your front porch. 

Slowly, you pull away from the vampire to take a step towards your door. Your body aches, but it’s already mostly healed as you run a hand over the small incision at your waist. 

“Thank you,” you say. “Eric.”

He’s silent, looking you over in a way that you can’t help but think is more than just an assessment of your injuries. He settles on your eyes when he says, “Anytime.”