#yes this is indulgent mind your damn business

[vullcanica]

Whenever Avita takes on too much energy - be it by choice, by underestimating a source or by necessity (as she can absorb attacks, explosions, soulsnatch whole groups of people, etc) - and is forced to bleed off some excess to prevent from destabilizing her form, it usually manifests into light energy. It's a safety reflex she's developed over the years for the good of those around her. At times even bleeding raw life force into her environment can unbalance it and cause abominable mutations and anomalies, so she makes sure that on exit it's converted into something as harmless as possible.

I.e. babygirl glows sometimes 💅

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[ak319]

Lovesick Rich Gf x Fem gp reader🛍️💋

(Headcanon)

(Warnings: Toxic love, obsessed, implied sexual content, possessive themes, blackmailing,)

Roxi Moores, your girlfriend is the daughter of Altan Moores, owner of the Mooranda hotel chain which is their family-owned business. That's right, their family is half Turkish and half English. Not to forget she is an international model. You, however, were a simple college student who got a job at one of the Hotel branches as a server.

Roxi was one of those people who didn't pay much attention to the people catering to her as she was always used to being pampered. But when you came to take her order dressed in that white dress shirt, with a notepad in your hands, and greeted her and her girlfriends in that cushioned urbane voice, she nearly folded right there. That night is what Roxy now celebrates as your guys' "Love at first sight anniversary" even though it was only one-sided and your ass was so aloof at that time of serving her. You didn't even know until she left that she was the owner's DAUGHTER!

Anyway, Roxi had set her eyes on you and you are damn wrong if you think she doesn't get what she wants. It's not like she lacks anything. She has charisma, looks, and money, though she could tell you were not a person to fall for someone's wealth so she had to work hard. And really hard to get such an attractive, nice woman like you at her feet.

Her alluring blue eyes made you weak in the knees, not to forget her honeyed voice and her luscious caramel brown hair. You began to see her more at the dining and eventually, you responded to her flirting too sometimes but there was this nagging voice at the back of your head reminding you of your status and how it might be so wrong and disastrous to date Altan's only daughter. But she convinced you and convinced you well ♡ by easily luring you into her suite. God, you couldn't believe how you even scored that night just by getting a job there.

Your apprehension about her father's opinion was cleared when she out of the blue once brought him for not more than 5 minutes due to his busy schedule and introduced you. To this day you still wonder how you kept your composure when meeting a billionaire as his daughter's GF and as a lowly SERVER and that too in a WEEK of DATING?! Well to be fair at that point you thought that you were still in a situation-ship but Roxi made no mistake of reminding you that you were her girlfriend.

Then, your relationship with her began and you had no idea how your life would change when looking back on it now.

She was cute, smart, and elegant. You absolutely adore how she is attentive towards you. She listened to your rants about your college dramas and would be like a strict parent if you missed one day of your gym. Yes, she would be MAD if you didn't work out. She is obsessed with your abs and will even put stickers on them or would doodle with her glitter Sharpies giggling after riding you dry while you are laying there still trying to find your ass in the milky way. Not that you minded but now you didn't get to skip the workout and would have to send her a snap as soon as you step into the gym. She is the one who sits on your back like a princess as you do pushups or makes you do them on top of her for practice as she pays you with kisses on each one you do.

She would give you a private catwalk trying to distract you from studying or your game time by trying on the sensual nighties she could get her hands on. Passwords are non-existent between you both and don't you dare remove her picture as your wallpaper. You can only change it to a different picture. She does the same with her phone.

As this was your first serious relationship, you were indulging in the way she made it so magical for you but you were also overwhelmed. Because having a brand customize a couple perfume sets and bracelets only for you both seemed too much to you. Whenever you put forward your complaint of her spending her money on you as it literally made you feel spineless, she would throw tantrums and cry and let it be known that her tantrums are not easy to control. Thank God, you chose to discuss this problem at her house and not yours because your family would have their wits blown away if they witnessed this side of hers instead of the sweet humble chic girlfriend one.

Roxi, your number one supporter will be at your every (fave sport) match at your college, cheering you but she always looked so prim and proper while doing it. You never understood how she did it. When it comes to your attention and the competition, Roxi is gravely calm and it can be quite chilling for you as she is the clingy type. But she is indeed a secure and confident person and she trusts you too. The other girls don't even stand a chance against her so why give a fuck?. But little do you know that if she catches you initiating something ever, your life is going to get W-R-E-C-K-E-D. Thank God you’re loyal—one of the many things she loves about you. So don't ever forget that she is the only girl in your life. The scratches on your back remind you daily anyway. She never lets them heal.

How does she even-aren't her nails oval?! Nevermind.

It was however the other way around. You were the possessive one and she relished in the fact that you didn't like her wearing too revealing clothes not because you were insecure, you just didn't trust other people and the way they might think of her in their minds. Roxi didn't mind one bit as she wanted to be dolled up only for you.

The moment when she first found out you were pursuing a business-related degree, she had already formulated and decided every step of your future and you didn't even know. She was going to make you into a perfect daughter-in-law for her parents, especially her father. She was tired of being spoiled by her dad and wanted the role to be passed on to you now. She had already tested you multiple times and seeing how you gave 0 shits about her money made her more determined every time.

So as soon as you graduated she tried to convince your stubborn hardworking ass to first stop with this part-time job of a server for God's sake but you were persistent and did it alongside a corporate one but not in her dad's company. This enraged her further to her core. She couldn't stand the thought of you licking someone's shoes just to get a few bucks! In her mind, the server job was way better as at least it was her dad paying you and not some other bastard. She really remained patient with you whether it was when you took her on dates or when you gifted her something as she just loathed the fact that it was bought from the extra money that you were earning through your other job. After having enough of this bullshit, one day she just stormed into your office and grasped the attention from every corner. Some recognized her, and some were plain curious to see such a beautiful woman with such a furious look. She barged into your boss's office and demanded them to fire you. You ultimately calmed her down and controlling your own anger, escorted her out.

That was the day you cut it off with her...at least you thought you did. Well, you got fired anyway since your boss found out whose daughter she was and didn't want any trouble. You got texts from her, ranging from apologies to straight-up threats of you not ever getting a job anywhere in the world. At this rate, you had resigned from your serving job because of her and were depressed. Your family instead of supporting you took her side as she had hypnotized them with her sweet and caring nature. They wanted you to just accept the job at Mooranda International. And you did that eventually when her father came to your doorstep and took you to his company and hired you as his executive assistant which was such a big role for you.

You started your job and honestly, it felt robotic. Your soul wasn't in it and how can you forget the way it was handed to you, in a literal gold platter but make it a platter full of thorns and spikes that you just had to accept no matter what.

As far as Roxi is concerned, she visited you in the office as if nothing had changed between you two and soon you realized that you were trapped in this situation both by her and her father and could only act as if nothing had occurred. She re-entered your life and things slowly returned back to normal, and if you consider getting a mansion, luxurious cars and access to a private jet normal, then yes. Everything is normal.

You both live together now and Roxi finally got what she wanted. Making you spoil her every day by demanding things left and right. She fantasized about waking up every day and seeing you get ready to go work with her father and it was finally true!. Every morning she would make sure the maids got breakfast perfectly cooked to your liking and the favourite part of hers was to see you off with a kiss. After that either she went for shoots or just spoiled herself to look pretty for you when you came back.

Her father on the other hand made sure to be ten times harder on you than other employees to make sure you are ready to one day take his position and be a good wife to his lovely daughter. Despite his reservation of having his daughter date a server from his own hotel, he had taken a liking to you. He still remembered her tears when you both temporarily broke up and he sure as hell is not letting his baby cry again over your ass. After all, his dearest daughter always gets what she desires.

Speaking of desires, Roxy is insatiable when it comes to you. Now more than ever since you look so fucking sexy wearing suits and dress shirts. The way you drive the latest Bugatti La Voiture Noire with those hands of yours, one of which always has to be on her thigh or she's jumping out. She puts on the playlists she makes for you. It is so hot to see you be so serious and focused on driving and even working when she is all over you. Knowing that at the end of the day, you will fuck her anyway.

She never fails to blush when you serve her sometimes as it reminds her of the first time she met you. Her shyness and that dreamy look in her eyes make you serve her more often than ever that now it has become a habit at dinner time.

Don't for a second dare to think that you can wear white and not have her clinging to you to put a lipstick stain on various parts of your shirt. Seeing you embarrassed makes her giddy but she still doesn't let you clean them and instead makes you wear a coat.

Roxi really wants to sometimes make those adorable Tiktoks of relationship aesthetic but she knows you are not a fan of showing off and she kind of agrees with this notion as she doesn't want anyone's evil eye to befell upon your relationship. So instead she just makes such videos for her private account and posts some of yours in which either your back is facing her from the balcony as you're enjoying your (tea/coffee) or you're holding a bouquet for her, your face covered by the flowers. Such media in which the relationship is not that OTT. She loses herself in the attention you get online when people are curious about you, thirsting over you or whether it's her own friends congratulating her on catching such a fine specimen as you. The fact that nobody can steal you away from her no matter how much they try, always makes her day.

Now, her plan is to be your wife. She is just waiting for the day you pop the question. But she knows you are going to make it special so she can wait. She will wait. But it is so unfair that she has to. She has never waited for anything in her life and now, for the thing she wants the most, she has to. She could propose to you but she doesn't want it that way! She wants you on your knees for her. She is your everything, isn't she? And it's not like she doesn't have other plans on standby if you show no signs of wifing her up...

She had a previously failed engagement with a gold digger douchebag that her father chose for her and it was vile. She is not going to be treated like that ever again and you have proved yourself to be worthy of her and treated her better than her ex-fiance whom you hated too just by hearing about him treating your princess like shit. So she knows you love her beyond words at this point.

A snippet🤍

"Why didn't you respond to my texts?! You knew we had a golf date planned!". Your ears were not prepared for that shriek after the hectic day you had.

"Baby-I said sorry and can you-"

"NO! You are not going to work tomorrow and we are spending all day together. You hear me?! Don't you dare ignore my texts again!" She dug her nails on your shoulders.

She was currently on your lap in the tight golf outfit she wore specifically for you. How did she even think you would take her out in the skirt she’s wearing? She is indeed playing right now. But she couldn't stop teasing you with the way she moved on your lap and you knew she was doing it to make you more pissed.

"That's it." You carried her over your shoulder and onto the bed and Roxi couldn't be more happier. Good thing that she had already thrown away the condom packet.

[stevehours]

drinking game

steve harrington x fem!reader

18+ minors dni, drinking, smut

wc: 4.4k

As far as first dates go, this is the lamest one you’ve been on. Which you’d somewhat anticipated when you agreed to it. Steve Harrington is a couple years younger than you. The kid’s barely twenty. But he is incredibly handsome and well, it’s been awhile for you. Steve’s wooing skills haven’t graduated high school, like he has. He insists on picking you up, gets to show off the car his daddy bought him. It is nice. Must’ve cost a fortune when he was gifted it on his sixteenth birthday. The damn thing has a telephone in it. Power seats and windows. And the seats heat up, he tells you. Though in the middle of August, it’s not really necessary. It has great speakers, proven by the cheesy, 70’s baby making music he’s blasting from them. You can’t imagine Steve actually listens to this, but that it’s an attempt to get you in the mood.

He brings you to a diner for dinner where he tries to share a milkshake with you and then it’s a trip to the drive-in movies. It’s ripped out of the 50’s. Especially the part where he tries to make out with you, which okay, yes you indulge in until he grabs a handful of your breast.

“Alright, Romeo,” you laugh, pushing him back, “Cool it down a little.”

“Sorry,” he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and settles back into the driver's seat. His cheeks are ruddy, either with embarrassment or arousal, you aren’t sure.

“It’s fine—“ you tell him and adjust your blouse, “It’s kind of cute.”

“You’re really pretty,” he blurts out, smiling and it does make you giggle. But you feel a little childish right after, so you shove his head and tell him to keep watching the movie.

Must be a win for Steve because that saccharine smile doesn’t leave his face.

After the movie, he starts driving but not in the direction of your apartment. He glances at you, “I’m having a really good time. Would you be up for maybe coming back to my place? For a drink or something?”

“Your place?” you snort, crossing your arms but you’re already convinced.

Steve blushes again, “Well, I live there. My parents are like, barely home. Business trips and stuff.”

“Alright, Harrington,” you shrug, “It’s early. Let’s do it.”

—

“It’s called Flip, Sip or Strip,” he says, holding up a quarter and looking at you under hooded eyes.

You cackle, fingers delicately holding the crystal wine glass that’s definitely worth more than anything you own. You didn’t know Steve’s parents were so loaded, though the car should’ve been the indicator. The pair of you are sitting in the living room of the Harrington home. It’s so intricately designed, the entire house following the same decorative theme. And it’s remarkably clean for a place a young man lives alone 75% of the time. You wonder if there’s a housekeeper that comes and cleans up after Steve.

“You want to play a drinking game?” you scoff, crossing your legs and you don’t miss the way Steve’s eyes follow the movement.

“You’ve heard of it, then?”

“Not since freshman year of college but, sure, let’s play,” you placate him, leaning back in the chaise lounge. In the back of your mind you’re wondering why expensive furniture is so uncomfortable. Steve scrambles from the equally looking stiff couch, opening what you can assume is his parents liquor cabinet. Under the record player that plays that same cheesy, romantic 70’s R&B he was blasting in the BMW.

He sets two glasses and a bottle of tequila on the coffee table and then pats the cushion next to him on the couch.

You raise an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t it be better to stay here? So you can actually see me?”

“Good point,” he grins excitedly and then says, “You first. Call it.”

“Heads,” you slur in a sultry voice, smirking at the way he looks back at you all slack-jawed.

Then Steve flips the coin in the air, catches it in his palm and slaps it on his forearm. He uncovers it and gets this real mischievous smile on his face. He doesn’t even have to announce it, you know the coin is tails up. You laugh and lean forward to grab the bottle of tequila, pouring yourself a small shot and downing it with ease. Then you extend your palm out and Steve hands you the coin. You watch him expectantly until he says, “Tails.”

You flip it, catching it in your hand and flipping it onto your arm. You giggle as you uncover it, wiggling your eyebrows at Steve when you tell him, “Heads.”

He shucks off his coat, tossing it behind him and making grabby hands for the quarter. You roll your eyes as you drop it into his hand and tell him, “Heads.”

Steve flips the coin and then his face scrunches up in disdain, “Heads.”

You snatch the coin from his hand as you cackle triumphantly. A few more rounds go on, you take off your heels with Steve’s eyes glued to your feet and he takes a shot. Then you’re challenged again to either take a drink or remove another bit of clothing. And you’re honestly feeling that shot of tequila so you’d rather not take another so quick. Hence, your tights come off. Steve watches the motion and chews on his bottom lip.

“You a virgin, Harrington?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together.

He laughs, almost offended as he shakes his head, “Far from it. You’re just too good to look at. Anyone tell you that you could be a model?”

“Flattery will get you almost anywhere. Heads or tails, big boy?” you smooth your thumb against the warm quarter.

He guesses correctly, but you don’t on your turn. And so off comes your blouse. Steve spreads his legs across from you, hands smoothing down his jeans as he grins salaciously at you. He incorrectly guesses tails and then pulls off his polo, exposing this jungle of chest hair you’re shocked by. A smug smirk spreads across his lips as your mouth hangs open. And he’s got all these moles decorating his gorgeous skin like constellations. He combs his own fingers through his chest hair and leans back on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Still has his Nikes on.

You scowl as you throw the quarter at him, “Heads.”

And you lose, but you opt for another shot as you feel far more exposed than Harrington is.

A few more rounds leads to you both pleasantly buzzed and in your underwear.

“This game is stupid,” you decide when you incorrectly guess again.

Steve giggles and tosses the coin on the coffee table, “That’s okay. I’d rather take those off myself anyways.”

You hate that it works, makes your thighs warm up with dull arousal as you take your eyes over Steve’s body. He’s lean, soft but very faintly muscular. And those moles go all over him. All the way down to his feet. You heave a sigh and stand from the chaise lounge, stepping in between Steve’s legs and grabbing a hole of his square jaw. He blinks up at you, mouth ajar with fucking stars in those round, brown eyes.

“You have a really stupid, cute face,” you tell him, pushing his thick hair off his forehead.

“Uh, thanks?” he replies and you straddle his lap, pushing both hands into the waves of chestnut hair. You look at it, eyes narrowing.

“Do you have highlights?” you ask.

“Naturally— from the sun and—“ he starts but you interrupt him.

“Bullshit,” you grab onto his jaw again, “You get highlights in your hair.”

“No, I don’t,” he narrows his eyes and you completely seat yourself on his lap, feeling his erection press against your ass. You grind down on it and he lets out a gargled moan, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“You do,” you tell him and then get your lips on his jaw, feeling the subtle stubble against your face. You lick against his jawline, pushing your fingers in his hair and pulling his head back to give you more room. You begin kissing down his neck and his hands grab onto your hips, guiding you up and down against his strained, hard cock. The whole hair argument is completely forgotten by Steve, his hips jerk weakly as he leans his head back and lets out these pretty, soft sounds. The kind of sounds that make your stomach fill with excited, horny butterflies.

You mark up his neck, the skin purpling from your pleasurable abuse. Suck and bite until bruises form and Steve’s whimpering underneath you. You relent on his neck, pulling his head back to look at you as you writhe against him. His hands skate up your sides and back down, landing on your ass and pushing you harder against his erection. And you get a real good look at his pretty face. His eyes tilt down slightly at the ends and they’re so full of desire. Wonderfully expressive and beautiful. You look up at his brows, smiling to yourself as you notice they’re manicured, just ever so slightly. This man takes care of himself. More than most. His complexion is remarkably smooth. You drag your fingertip down the bridge of his nose to the tip, smiling at the sharpness of it. Then you settle your eyes on his lips as they quirk up into a smile, he likes how you’re looking at him. Admiring him. His lips are plump, pink from the way he’s been biting at them all night.

“You’re pretty,” you whisper, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip and he kisses the pad of it. Sending your stomach ablaze as you roll down on him a little firmer.

“You’re prettier,” he replies, voice husky.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?” you ask, tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I haven’t asked you, yet,” he tells you, smirking as he smooths his hand up your back to your bra. Unclasps it with two fingers, impressing a gasp from you and he smiles, straight and white teeth on display.

You help pull the straps from your arms and discard the lacy fabric aside, wrapping your arms around his neck again and then leaning down to capture his lips in a kiss. You don’t think too much about what he’d just said, this is fun and you’ve just met. This is the first date, you barely know each other. But while this started out as a lame date, you feel uncharacteristically smitten at this point.

Steve kisses like he needs it. Hungry. Like his oxygen supply comes from your lungs and he’s been suffocating all night. Makes you breathless and dizzy. You whimper into each desperate exchange, sucking on his tongue whenever he slips it past your lips. His arms wrap around your middle, pulling you completely flush against him. Your hands get tangled in his hair yet again, a little obsessed with the way it feels between your fingers. Your noses keep bumping into each other and his pokes your eye a handful of times but it doesn’t slow either of you down.

You lift yourself up and Steve offers a whine until he sees you’re moving to take off your underwear, then he’s helping get them off and you’re situating yourself between his legs on the floor. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs and peeling them down his thighs, gasping when his impressive length pops out and slaps against his abdomen. You give yourself a beat to look at it as Steve spreads his legs and writhes against the couch. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wrap your hands around the base of him. Your fingers don’t even meet when they’re circled around his girth.

“Christ,” you mutter and he laughs, a soft and almost insecure sound.

“I- I know, it’s kind of—“

“Huge?”

“Scary?” he asks, tilting his head as he gazes down at you.

It’s your turn to laugh, wondering how many girls have told him that. You’re not scared, no, the opposite.

“Not scary,” you tell him, “I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Yeah? I’ve… I’ve been told it’s too—“ he swallows and his eyes squeeze shut as you stroke his length firmly.

“Too big?” you offer and work your hand up and down his gargantuan cock slowly, “I like a challenge, Stevie.”

He laughs again, but it’s a breathless laugh. He opens his eyes again and watches as you lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting with a sweet whine. You wrap your lips around the head of him, tasting the salty precum leaking from his slit. As you grip onto the base of him and attempt to take him into your mouth, you can feel just how hard he is. You lock your eyes on his, slowly sinking down on his cock. Drool slips past your lips and down the rest of his length, your hand slides up and smears the natural lube over him. You continue like that, fingers moving up and down where you can’t fit him in your mouth. You make a conscious effort to breathe out of your nose and use your tongue while you bob up and down on his cock.

Steve watches intently, thighs shaking as he tries his hardest not to buck his hips up. Just the size of him has spit pooling in your mouth and seeping down his length all the way to his heavy balls. His face looks extra pretty right now. Dazed and drunk on the pleasure, perhaps some of the tequila too.

His hands tangle into your hair, holding it out of the way as you continue your way up and down his cock.

“That’s it,” he breathes out, chest heaving as he praises you, “Doing so good for me.”

Those words hit you, make you moan on his length and wiggle your hips. You try to take him as deep as you can before pulling off, working your fist over his cock as you catch your breath. Once he’s not in your mouth, he bucks his hips and moans out shakily.

“Oh, fuck…” he seethes, his toes curling into the carpet.

You move your mouth to his balls then, still working his shaft in your hand and you start licking at his sack. Keeping your eyes trained on his gorgeous face. Steve blinks rapidly, rolling his hips up and spewing the prettiest little moans. And you’re kind of obsessed with his face at this moment, the absolute pleasure painted on it.

“So fucking pretty,” you tell him because you really can’t help yourself and Steve seems to like it, tugging on your hair and whining.

“C’mere… wanna kiss you,” he babbles out and you stand on shaky legs before crawling back into his lap and kissing him sloppily. He wraps his arms around your middle and thrusts his hips up, the side of his cock gliding through your folds and punching a surprised moan from you, which he swallows. Then his hands move down and firmly plant on your asscheeks. At first you assumed Steve was close to coming but the way he’s grinding you down on his cock tells you otherwise— he just really wanted to kiss you.

Then Steve pulls away, “Can I taste you? Please?”

You’re not inclined to say no to that, nodding your head emphatically and standing up from his lap again. You make a move to lay down on the couch, but Steve’s laying down first and grabbing at you.

“Sit on my face, please,” he whines and you flush, but do as he asks. Maneuvering your leg over his shoulders, you hover and look down at him. As if to ask if he’s sure. Which he answers by pulling you down on him, his warm and wet mouth meeting your dripping cunt. You moan out, hands grabbing onto the armrest to keep yourself upright as Steve devours your aching pussy. He’s moaning into you, seemingly loving the taste as he sucks and licks at your folds. Once you’re comfortable and downright desperate, you begin riding Steve’s gorgeous face. His hands are planted firm on your ass, guiding you through it.

“I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” he manages to tell you, pulling you off of him just the smallest inch before he’s dragging your pussy back down against his eager mouth.

“Fuck, baby,” you mutter out, “You’re so good at that…”

He really is, uses his whole face to do it. Nose rubbing against your clit, tongue teasing your hole while you drip all over his chin. You try to look down at him, lock eyes with his dazed, pussy-drunk ones but the pleasure gets overwhelming and your eyes start to flutter shut as you grind down on his expert tongue and really use his nose to get off. Your stomach fills with fire, your release gaining in ok you quickly. And once Steve’s tongue penetrates you, you’re a goner. Crying out his name in desperate pleas as you ride your orgasm out. You’re shaking when you pull off of him abruptly, worried that you’re about to suffocate him. And as you stand, looking down at him, you can’t help but giggle at the look on his face. Steve looks like he just came. Blinking slowly, a pleased smile plastered on his pink lips.

He stands with you, laces your fingers and kisses you softly. You can taste yourself on his lips but you don’t mind, giggling into it.

“Can I take you to my bedroom?” he asks once he pulls away.

You nod, shyly and looking up at him with stars in your eyes. He guides you up the stairs, stopping along the way to steal kisses. You’re not sure the last time you felt so much romance tangled in with sex. He presses you to the wall next to his bedroom door, swoops his mouth down to capture yours in a disproportionate chaste kiss. Again, linking your fingers and holding them above your head as he connects his forehead to yours.

“Don’t laugh— okay?”

You giggle, gazing up at him curiously, “Sorry. I won’t.” It’s unclear exactly what Steve’s asking you not to laugh at, but once he opens his bedroom door, you get it. It’s the ugliest bedroom you’ve ever seen. Everything is drenched in plaid, the wallpaper, the curtains, the bedspread. All so offensive. You bite your lip to stifle the laugh, but it all dissolves when you turn to watch Steve close the door and get a glimpse at his cock which is very much still hard. Then his bedroom doesn’t seem so silly anymore. Your hand wraps around his length as you press him against the door, kissing him filthy all over again.

Steve whimpers from the touch, muffled against your tongue as he places his hand on your face and holds you while he kisses back.

“I need you,” he slurs into your mouth and you nod, kissing him before you walk towards his bed. You lay yourself on it, head on his pillows as you bring your hands up to fondle your own tits. Watching as Steve’s hand falls down to his cock, stroking himself slowly. He then climbs on top of you, kissing you tenderly before he’s reaching over to his nightstand but something tells you to stop him, so you do. Hand on his wrist.

“No… I,” you swallow, lust driving this decision completely, “I wanna feel you… just you.”

Steve inhales sharply, moves his hand to push his cock down for some relief as he says to you, “Fuck… are you sure?”

You wrap your arms around his neck as you nod slowly at him, spreading your legs for him. He drops his head down to kiss you, all slow and gentle. His hand slips between your bodies, grabbing his cock and teasing the head of it against your aching center. You gasp softly, hands tangled in his hair as your hips roll, causing the tip of his cock to catch on your dripping hole. Steve sinks in slowly, inch by inch. It’s quite the stretch, has your jaw dropping as you adjust. His cock is hot and thick, you can feel it pulsing as it drags against your walls. It’s so delicious and heady, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist and your hips roll up until he’s completely sheathed inside you. And Steve’s gentle, doesn’t jack hammer into you immediately like most men would. He stays still and lets you get used to the feeling, kissing you softly and tenderly between needy moans and gasps.

“Feel so full,” you confess in a whisper and that gets Steve thrusting into you, groaning lowly against your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, “You’re so fucking wet and tight… squeezing my cock so good.”

“Oh, Steve,” you moan, tugging his hair while he slowly builds a steady and deep rhythm. His hand moves to grab your thigh, squeezing it while he grinds down into you. The tip of his cock prods against that spongy, sweet spot inside you. Punches a yelp out of you to which he looks down at you, panicked.

“You okay?” he asks, blinking rapidly.

You nod, scratching down his back as you plead, “Fuck, yes… right there, do it again.”

A smile spreads across his lips, pretty teeth showing as he thrusts into you again. And again. Your back arches with it, pressing your tits to his chest as your legs spread further on their own volition. You place your hand on his cheek, watching his stunning face as he sinks in and out of your pussy, the filthiest sounds echoing in the room. He licks his lips, brow furrowing as his thrusts get harder and faster. Each time, he rubs against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Dragging the most pornographic sounds you’ve ever made from your throat. You’re not sure you could recover from this, suddenly really hoping he does ask you to be his girlfriend. The two of you have barely even started and it’s the best you’ve ever felt in your life. His cock filling you in a way that makes you want to cry, in a good way.

“Steeeeeve…” you moan out, low and uncontrollably. “Fuck… that’s so good. Just like that, baby… yes…”

His lips are on your ear now, lowly telling you, “Taking me so well… such a good girl…”

Your cunt clenches around him, little desperate and pleasure filled pants and moans pouring out of you. “Steve, Steve… oh, Steve!” you chant, scratching down his back a second time.

His hips still and he laughs, burying his face in your neck as he mumbles, “Fuck- fuck, don’t wanna cum yet.”

You grab his face and pull his lips to yours, unhooking your legs from his waist as you kiss him deeply. Tongues lazily curling together, panting into each other's open mouths. You give him a beat to come back down, then you’re flipping the pair of you. Get Steve on his back and you on top of him, without disconnecting where you two meet. You place your hands on his furry chest, feeling the jungle of hair you’ve been staring at since he took his shirt off that night. His hands grip onto your hips, gasping and panting as he stares up at you, awestruck look on his beautiful face.

“You’re so pretty,” you tell him again and he laughs, that wonderful breathless sound you’re starting to fall in love with. Which is dangerous but right now, you don’t care.

“I’ve got the prettiest girl on top of me… and she’s telling me I’m pretty,” he mumbles out, dazed smile on his face.

“You are,” you assure him just as you start to rock your hips, face confronting as you feel his cock prod at that sweet spot deep inside you again. Your eyes cross from it, eyebrows knitting together as you bite your lip and you begin riding him steadily. Slow and gentle at first but soon enough, you’re bouncing up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby… just like that…” Steve babbles out, snaking his hand around and his thumb finds your clit easily. Works in quick, firm circles. Has you riding him even faster and harder as your climax threatens to rush over you. Building and building so quickly.

“Steve…. Steve?” you whimper.

Sweet, lopsided smile on his face when he asks, “Yeah, baby?”

“I’m gonna fucking cum,” you confess, scratching your nails against his chest as you grind down on his length.

Steve keeps up his ministrations on your clit, doesn’t switch anything up. But he heaves this happy, aroused laugh and tells you, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock. Use me.”

Your body tenses when it hits you, sending you over the edge and you collapse on top of him. Face buried in his neck as you spew cries and moans. He grabs your hips, holds you steady and plants his feet on the mattress. That’s when he lets loose, thrusts into you with everything he’s worth. Mouthing praise against your ear as he fucks you silly.

Your eyes roll back, his thrusts punching repetitive and loud moans from your lungs.

“Fuck— I’m gonna— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he warns and squirms underneath you but you make no attempt to move.

“Fill me up, Steve,” you whisper against his ear, kissing under it and then telling him, “Wanna feel it. Cum inside me, baby.”

He lets out a gargled moan, arms wrapping around you firmly as he thrusts one last time and releases inside you, coating your walls with his spend. Your lips meet again, lazily and spent kisses as you both come down.

Steve strokes your hair, holds you close and kisses your cheek before he asks, “You wanna stay the night?”

“Yeah.. yeah, I do,” you reply, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead. “As long as you make you breakfast.”

“I’ll make you anything you want,” he says with a smile before flipping you over and kissing you deeply.

And okay… maybe it wasn’t such a lame date.

[sphireath-wisp]

Hihi!!! I was just wondering if you could do just little cute scenarios with sae, yoichi, and rin (gn! reader + all individual)

im sorry if this isn't as detailed as you wish but I'm just really craving tooth rotting fluff+ take your time (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

Sypnosis: In the busy hustle and bustle of life, it's sometimes hard to find time to spend together. When there's time, what are the hobbies/little things both of you do together?

Warning: My readers are always morally grey in some way because it's more realistic to me, not proofread

Author's note: Thank you so much for reaching out and giving me this ask! I'll try my best to weave my story together to match your request. I owe my friend a good favour, so I hope you don't mind me adding her BL favourite here. Thank you so much for your understanding ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Featuring: Sae Itoshi, Yoichi Isagi, Rin Itoshi x GN! reader

SAE ITOSHI... finds himself most at ease during late-night drives with you in the passenger seat. The windows are down, you're sticking your head out of the car despite his multiple warnings, and he can't stop smiling. His free hand is reaching for you and tugging your shirt down, and his eyes drift to your pouting face in the rearview mirror.

Usually, his late-night drives together with you have no real destination. Acting purely on a whim, Sae always drives you wherever feels right. Sometimes, it's the port right by the beach. Other times, he's driving you to an empty parking lot. Today, he decides to let you have the privilege of choosing where to go.

And when you ultimately decide to go to a playground out of all places, he scoffs but does a U-turn without hesitation.

Is it currently 11 p.m. and does he have a schedule he almost-religiously follows? Yes, and he has a feeling that he won't have enough time to drink his salted kombucha tomorrow morning. Is he tired? Absolutely. Why would he do all of this when he knows damn well he has practice tomorrow?

Hell, he's asking himself that as he opens the car door for you and helps you out.

With a cheeky peck on Sae's cheek, you wash away his thoughts and he returns the favour with a kiss on your forehead. "Let's go get a new car, yeah?" Sae shuts the car door behind you. You're bewildered, to say the least, "I'll let you pick a design this time."

"Look! It's here, it's here!" Your boyfriend, YOICHI ISAGI, geeks out in the manga section of your local bookstore. "Oh yeah, didn't they release figures already? Season 2 is being released soon, right?"

His smile only grows wider when you nod. He's crouching down beside you as you tower over him, leaning down slightly to watch him stare at the various covers. Standing back up on his feet with two in hand, Isagi seems to have reached a slight dilemma.

"Ah... should I get the latest chapter? Or should I..." Oh, isn't that the romance manga you recommended to him? The main couple was cheesy, but it reminded you a lot of how your relationship with Isagi is. Turning your head away, you find yourself stifling a giggle - how cute.

After a moment of deep thought, Isagi sulks. His shoulders slump and he kneels back down, placing both the mangas back on their shelves. Like a defeated puppy, he crouches there for a moment in silence.

"What's up?"

"I can't decide, so it's better if I don't get one or else I'll spend the rest of the day regretting it," He's solemn, your heart clenches when he forces an awkward smile. It's not a big deal, but... "You can borrow my copy y'know, don't be shy."

He perks up. It's a simple gesture, but the simplest things in life have always pleased Isagi the most. With a bashful laugh, he picks out the manga he wanted - he can indulge a little, he decides. "Right, I'm sorry. You didn't need to see how let down I was over something so small." Honestly, Isagi's a little shy. It's only been a few months into the relationship. He wants to respect you and your boundaries.

"I'll get you something in return, thank you."

RIN ITOSHI yelps when he stumbles out of your bedroom to the dimly lit living room of your apartment, sucking back a hiss from the base of his throat when something jabs at his foot. His disappointment only grows when he lifts his foot to see the imprint of a Lego brick on the sole. "What do you think you're doing? At 1 in the morning?" The once groggy Rin Itoshi is now wide awake, meeting your avoidant gaze. As you continue to piece together your Lego set, you mumble, "...couldn't sleep. I usually don't have trouble, but I don't know what's up with me today."

Despite his reluctance, he walks over to you and plops onto the carpet beside you. "Aren't you a little too old for this?" Rin begins while mindlessly piecing bricks together. His back is against your shoulder, partially leaning his weight onto you.

You scoff once he grabs the manual. "You're one to talk," you retort as you pull apart Lego pieces, "In case you haven't realized it, you happen to be playing with my Lego set."

"In case you haven't realized it, I'm helping you, idiot," There's no real malice in his voice. He crosses his legs and straightens his spine, turning to gather the pieces in a pile and redo everything from scratch. You clearly seem to be struggling. He'll never admit it, but he doesn't like the aching gap in his chest when you're not in bed with him.

It's a good excuse in his head. He's simply helping you out so you'll return to his embrace as soon as possible. It's just that. He's totally not enjoying playing with Legos with you - he convinces himself mentally with starry eyes when you both finish the overwhelming set at 2:30 a.m.

"Phew! Now to take it apart!"

"Hell no."

Taglist: @mikmwehehe, @saexy (while you did archive your old account, you are technically still on my list!! Please tell me if you want to get removed and I'll do it asap)

[size0forhollywood]

Metafiction

Pt 3.

Content Warning: 21+, NSFW, Smut, Depression, hate fucking, public sex, starvation.

A/n: I think we’re finally starting to like it here. Or at least…our sweet little kitties do..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I..hate..you.”

“I..know.”

~

Something changed after that night in the library. There was something different about Sylus but you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Just like the last two times you were a wreck under him. And yet, instead of leaving you alone he carried you back to the bedroom and tucked you into bed.

You don’t know what to make of his hot and coldness. Why hasn’t he killed you or let you go? Why does he insist you stay at the base? And why does he insist you stay in his room?

You’re curled up under the blankets, tears staining the pillow below. You don’t have the energy to get up, you don’t want to get up. Because you know if you have a disagreement with Sylus it’s going to end with you having an earth shattering orgasm and then him making a derogatory comment that makes you feel sick to your core.

Instead you opt to just lie in bed, wishing and longing for home. You often find yourself thinking about your roommate and best friend. What were they doing right now? Were they looking for you? How long has it been since you’ve vanished off the face of the earth. Did Mephi come through the wormhole too?

So many questions and no way to get answers.

Sylus comes and goes in the room. Usually to drop off a tray of food and some water for you. But he doesn’t linger.

You don’t touch the food but you do drink the water. You want to avoid getting dehydrated again.

The wall and the ceiling was starting to feel like they were closing in on you. It was making you feel numb inside.

You hopped out of bed and sat by the large window. Darkness expands across the land. There really was no sunshine here. You didn’t realise how much you missed the sun until this very moment. You missed its warmth.

You decided this was going to be your new spot. You lift your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them. Staring out the window into nothingness but at least it was different from the wall.

~

Sylus had been keeping himself busy. Not only was he trying to figure out this whole messed up situation he was also fighting back feelings he’s never had to deal with before.

He doesn’t know why fighting with you fills him up with a burning desire to fuck you. He’s never really thought about sex in general. Being the leader of Onychinus, he’s never really indulged in those pleasures. But with you. You do something to him which makes him crave you and it turns him animalistic.

After returning from another trip he goes to the bedroom to check on you. There you are still seated by the window in the exact same position you were in when he left.

He looks at the desk and the food is still there untouched, again. This pains him but also angers him. Why must you be so defiant?

Why can’t you see that he’s helping you? Protecting you? He realises he needs to be able to just talk to you. Get you to understand just how much danger you’re in.

~

You were so lost in your own mind while looking out the window you didn’t hear Sylus calling out to you multiple times.

When you do finally hear him he’s standing right beside you. He’s holding more shopping bags.

“We’re gonna go out tonight. Have a shower and put these on.” He places the bags on the bed.

You straighten up. “We’re gonna leave the compound?”

You just wanted to make sure you heard that right.

“Yes. I’m tired of watching you whither away by the window like a damn house plant.”

Sylus walks towards the door.

“You have 30 minutes.”

You can’t help but feel a little rush of excitement. Finally you get to leave this place, even if it’s just for one night. The idea of seeing other people, a sense of normalcy. You can feel happy tears well up in your eyes.

You hurry to the bathroom to start getting ready as fast as you can.

Your shower was fast but efficient. You’re now standing in the room with a towel wrapped around you looking at the new clothes Sylus got for you.

It was another dress but it was a going out dress. Very elegant, black and red, sylus’ signature colours. There were fancy heels to match and already pinned to the dress was a very familiar looking crow brooch.

There was also a matching set of bras and undies. They were black lace and definitely not what you’re used to wearing but at least it’s something.

You can’t help a little smile form on your face. You get dressed as quickly as you can. Just as you get to putting your heels on Sylus comes back into the bedroom. He’s wearing his signature look with the black jacket draped over his shoulders. He looked quite handsome. Like he always does right y/n?

He takes a moment and looks you up and down. If he’s thinking anything he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Want some help?” He gestures to your bare feet.

You feel your face go hot but you shake your head. “I’m fine.”

Sylus scoffs and walks over to you.

“Sit.”

You reluctantly sit on the chair, he gets down on one knee and he helps put your heels on. His fingers lingering around your ankles as he fastens the straps. A moment which causes an ache between your legs. After he’s done he stares up at you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t break eye contact. You feel a bit uneasy.

“So where are we going?” You just want to break the aching silence that had fallen between you two.

Sylus smoothly stands back up. “We’re going to a restaurant.” He holds his arm out as an offer for you to grab.

“I’m really not asking.” He warns.

You feel a frown on your face but you begrudgingly take his arm and you walk out of the base together and to one of Sylus’ many cars.

The drive to the restaurant was mostly silent. You spent most of the time looking out the window seeing the outside world. It was nice.

Sylus pulled up in front of a very fancy looking restaurant. He walks around the car and opens the door for you. You’re cautious about his behaviour. Was this just a front for the people?

you enter the restaurant and are greeted by a waiter in a tuxedo. You’ve definitely never been to something as exquisite as this. The inside was beautiful and to be honest pretty romantic looking. Twinkling fairy lights and crystal chandeliers hanging from the white and gold ceiling.

The waiter leads you to your table and once you’re seated you look around. You and Sylus are the only customers.

“Whats going on? A place like this should be filled to the brim.”

“I booked out the whole restaurant.” Sylus was quick to answer.

You bite your bottom lip. “Why would you do that?”

Sylus noticed you biting your lip and his jaw clenched a little.

“I need to talk to you without the risk of being overheard.”

You scoff and pick up your menu and start looking at what you’d like to try. A lot of this stuff you’ve never heard of before so you decide to play it safe and pick a salad.

“You couldn’t just talk to me back at the compound?”

“You were becoming a mindless zombie at the compound. I need you alert and listening to what I have to say.”

You furrow your brows at him. His red eyes not breaking eye contact with you.

The waiter comes back and asks for your drink order.

“Your most expensive bottle of wine, two glasses.” Sylus says before you can say anything.

“And as for the food I’ll have item 70 and she will have item 53”

“Very good sir.”

You start to chew the inside of your cheek trying to not let your anger come out.

“Why did you just order for me?” You ask Sylus through gritted teeth.

“Didn’t want you to make a fool of yourself.”

“You!”

“You’re wine sir.” The waiter interrupts and places a bottle of red wine and two glasses.

“Shall I fill them for you sir?”

All Sylus does is flick his wrist, the waiter nods and then leaves.

“Wine?” Sylus asks while smirking.

“Oh you’re not just gonna do it anyway?” You snap back.

Sylus scoffs, he pours wine into both glasses.

“Let’s try to have a good night.” He retorts.

“With you? That’s impossible.”

Sylus clenched his hand into a fist. Frustration clear across his face.

A tension was starting build in your core as you stare the red eyed man down. His demeanour unwavering.

“Do you remember what I said a few nights ago?”

You feel your own hands ball into fists as you think about that night, how he claimed you on the bed and in the library. How he felt so good ramming himself inside you.

“About the protocores?” He continues.

“Yeah? People want to find them, what has that got to do with me?”

Sylus sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose.

“They want to find the source of the protocores. Everyone knows something came through that wormhole. They’re all after it.”

There’s silence as you try to understand what he’s saying.

“You. They’re after you.”

Your eyes widen.

“But I’m just a regular person, I don-”

“I don’t think so.” Sylus cuts you off.

“You survived a wormhole. You’re immune to my…charms. You’re connected to Mephisto somehow.” Sylus sits back in his chair as he takes a swig of wine.

“You’re…something..” he say into his glass.

You stare it him for a moment. Trying to make sense of what he’s saying. You’re not anything special, you’re just a regular person. You grab your wine glass and take a few sips. Maybe the alcohol might help.

“So do you understand now why staying with me is your safest option?”

You scowl. “How do I know you’re not lying.”

“I am many things sweetie but I am not a liar.”

You shiver at that pet name. “Don’t call me that!”

Once again, you’re both staring at each other through clenched jaws and fists. The tension building between you two was getting so thick.

The waiter returns carrying two plates of food, he places down a steak and salad in front of Sylus and a seafood pasta dish in front of you, two fresh oysters adorn the plate and you scoff.

“Oysters?”

“They’re a delicacy here. So enjoy them.”

“Where I’m from they’re an aphrodisiac, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re trying to ply me with alcohol and make me horny.”

Sylus chuckles “we both know I don’t need any of that.”

He stares at you intently while holding a fork and knife in his hand. “Now eat.”

“I don’t like seafood.” You protest. It was a lie of course. You just didn’t want to eat it because he ordered it.

Sylus slams his cutlery down making the table shake.

“Eat.”

You shove your plate to the middle of the table.

“No.”

His red eyes burning into yours but you were not going to back down. He doesn’t get to control you like this. If he was really worried about your safety and protecting you he’d let you keep some autonomy.

“Eat, please.” He was sitting up straight and his eyes flaming with desire, it almost sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

“No, thank you.”

Something snaps and black and red mist envelopes the table and sends it flying across the restaurant.

You don’t flinch, you stay in your seat staring down the silver haired man in front of you.

The waiters and the kitchen staff stay hidden in the kitchen. As if they’re used to something like this happening.

Sylus stands up from his chair and approaches you.

“Always so fucking stubborn.”

He grabs you by your hips and lifts you up. You smack at his shoulders.

“Put me down!”

He sits you down on another table, hands still on your hips, your dress bunched up, bodies pressed together. His face inches away from yours.

You are both breathing heavy in frustration, the smell of wine intoxicating you further.

You look into his eyes and there you see it again. Even though there was animosity between you two right now there was no hate. There was a want and need. A feeling that could not be squashed down.

You feel your breath quicken and something happens that has never happened before.

Sylus kisses you. It was hungry and passionate. His hands squeeze at your hips as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You return the kiss, your hands running through his hair as you pull him closer to you.

Tongues in cheeks, teeth nibbling lips. Breathy moans escaping between the lip locking and it doesn’t stop there.

His hands run down your exposed thighs, feeling their way to your inner thighs till he reaches your now clothed pussy. He slides the lace under wear to one side and starts swiping at your wet folds. He groans at the feeling of it.

All of this was different now. He didn’t need to use his evol to hold you in place. Every part of you was accepting of him and he was getting drunk off it.

He releases your swollen lips and starts kissing down your jaw and neck, you tilt your head back to give him as much of your neck to explore. All the while his long fingers explore your hot, dripping cunt.

You didn’t care you were in the middle of a restaurant, that the staff could see you through the kitchen. That there were windows putting your lewd acts on display to anyone who may pass by.

You both needed this, to feel each other, to make each other feel so good. To relieve that angry tension that’s been building since before you left the compound.

You needed to release it all right here, right now.

“Ngh..Sylus..” you moan as you feel him insert two fingers inside you.

He’s kissing and biting your shoulder breath shuddering as he takes in the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers. How they’re so wet and hot and clenching around him. He starts a rhythm of sliding his fingers in and out. Noticing how your legs start spreading further apart to take more of him in.

He starts kissing back up your neck and finds your mouth again, loving the way your soft lips feel against his.

“Are..you gonna start…listening to me?” He says almost breathlessly.

A moan escapes as you feel his finger curl up, hitting that lovely sensitive spot that sends waves of pleasure through you.

“..No..” you moan. His other hands snakes up your back, your neck. He weaves his fingers through your hair and grabs a fistful but he doesn’t hurt you this time.

“So fucking stubborn.”

As he repeatedly starts rubbing that sensitive spot inside you his thumb finds your clit and starts massaging it.

Your moans start to echo in the restaurant.

“Ah! Mm yes!” The pleasure completely overwhelms you and an orgasm hits you hard and fast, you try and squeeze your thighs together as you try and ride your orgasm out on his fingers.

“Fuck..” he whispers.

He pulls his fingers out, as much as he wants to savour that moment he’s desperate to feel your soaking wet walls around his cock. He unbuckles his pants and unzips them as fast he can. Pulling them down just enough to get his massive hard cock free from restraint.

“Spread your legs for me.” He demands, and you do it. Still blissed out from your orgasm.

He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of the table. The tip of his cock already leaking with precum. He smears it between your now dripping folds and starts pressing himself into you.

He slides in so easily, so soft, warm, welcoming and so fucking wet for him.

Your hands now on his chest gripping his shirt for dear life, moaning sweet delicious sounds as he enters you. You wrap your legs just above his hips to give him as much access to you as possible.

Sylus doesn’t hold back, pistoning his cock in you. The sounds of your moans spurring him on to go faster and harder. The table rumbling underneath you. Threatening to break.

“Are you going to behave?” His voice low and grumbly.

“N.No!” You’re struggling to speak with how good it feels to have him slamming inside you. Your knuckles turning white with how hard you’re gripping his shirt.

“Fuck.” The hot anger seeping through only adds to the burning flames of desire. He wants more. One hand hand stays on your hip while the other fondles your breast through the dress. Squeezing and massaging.

You can’t help but throw your head back, so lost in pleasure but Sylus grabs your chin and brings you back.

“Look at me. I wanna see your face as you cum again for me.”

And you do. Making heavy eye contact as your face contorts with pleasure.

He finds that spot again with his cock and starts thrusting faster into you, hitting that spot to make you come undone.

“I..mmhngg..hate… you..ah!”

He moans as he feels your walls tighten around him.

“I…know..!”

He captures your lips once more as you both orgasm at the same time. Riding out every ounce of pleasure together. Ecstasy replacing every other emotion.

Your sweaty foreheads are pressed together as you collectively try to catch your breath.

You’re still joined at the hips, feeling his cock throbbing inside you, his cum seeping out. Your hands still gripping his shirt. Both of you not wanting to let go of each other.

He does pull his cock out eventually and as he goes to readjust your underwear he swipes a finger in your cunt one more time, collecting your combined juices on his finger.

He then brings that finger up to your mouth. He doesn’t need to say anything, you know what he wants you to do and you do it.

You take his finger and start licking and sucking on it. Tasting the both of you. He looks at you hungrily and kisses you as he pulls his hand away. Wanting to taste the both of you as well.

His tongue aggressively attacking yours, trying to get as much of the flavours as possible. When he pulls away a string of saliva connects both of your lips.

Again you’re just staring at each other, breathing heavily.

“I take it you’re not ordering dessert then?” A waiter from the kitchen chimes in.

~

The car ride home was silent once again. This time with a completely different energy. You’re staring out the window as you mull over what had just happened inside that restaurant. You expected Sylus to call you ugly, pathetic or disgusting but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He just helped you off the table and escorted you back to his car.

Where he still continues to stay silent. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the centre console, eyes straight ahead focused on the road. His hair was still dishevelled and the top of his shirt also looking a bit stretched around the buttons. Most likely from your death grip you had on him.

You squirm a bit uncomfortably as you feel Sylus’ sticky cum drenching your underwear. A constant reminder.

“Keep squirming like that and I’m gonna have to pull this car over.” He finally speaks his voice low, gravelly and somewhat sparked with arousal.

You look at him, his eyes are still on the road but you can see he’s clenching the steering wheel.

You scoff and look away. Honestly you’re too tired for his antics. As you’re looking out the window you feel your eyes getting heavy, you can’t fight the exhaustion taking hold of you and you drift off to sleep.

Sylus makes sure to keep the car steady and avoids all the potholes so he doesn’t wake you. He glances over your sleeping form. You finally looked peaceful while sleeping.

Once he gets back to his home, he carefully gets you out of the car without waking you. Now you’re in his arms, bridal style and he carries you all the way to his bedroom. He hates how frail you feel in his arms, like you’re wasting away and he can’t help but blame himself. After all, he kept you cuffed to your bed for three whole days with no food or water while he was doing his initial investigations.

And now when he wants to take care of you, your refusal feels like a punishment.

He gently lays you on the bed. His fingers softly caress your cheek. In truth you were never ugly or disgusting to him. He just lashed out because you make him feel things he’s never felt before. And he wanted to hurt you, to punish you for it.

Sylus makes his way to the kitchen and grabs an apple and an orange. Something simple, something sweet and he hopes that when you wake you’ll finally put aside your stubbornness and eat.

He leaves the fruit on the desk in his room before he goes to the study to talk with Luke and Kieran about what to do next and how to get you back home.

But do we really want to go home y/n?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[littlemisssilly]

Hey!! This is just a little something I wrote to be purely self indulgent,, anyway enjoy some Vox x Situationship!Reader :>

Warnings: a lot of angst (fluffy ending though!), mentions of Valentino being violent/abusive

[Note: I am aware this may be slightly OOC but! I don’t care this is for fun lol]

Replacements and Repairs

— When Vox gets his screen smashed, he can’t replace it alone. Unconveniently for him, the only person around to help is you.

Vox cringed as he fumbled his way up to his penthouse, so uncomfortably uncoordinated it would have had his head spinning if it wasn’t currently smashed to thousands of shards. He was completely blind in one eye and partially in the other, making the simple action of getting into an elevator, pressing the button, and getting access to his own damn house much more difficult than he would’ve liked.

Damnnit, Valentino, he cursed in his mind; which was already a glitching mess considering the damage made to his hardware had also affected his software. He’d have to change his screen, most definitely, which was impossible because Velvette was out of town and his new assistant had just been murdered in the latest extermination. So there was no one. No one, except for one person.

You.

He groaned inwardly, dreading the concept of having to phone up his - were you a friend? - sure, he’d call you a friend, because it actually physically hurt him to think any harder than he already was doing. Clawed fingers fumbled blindly at the elevator buttons until he found what he only hoped was the top floor. Vulnerability was not his thing, and the concept of you seeing him like this? He wasn’t feeling fantastic. In fact, he was beginning to feel ill.

But he knew without a doubt that you would come. It was that genuine care he constantly felt radiating off of you that proved to him that you weren’t going anywhere. He couldn’t figure out why.

For whatever reason, you never wavered. You were electric, with a witty tongue that he just thrived off of. And now you’d have to see him like this.

No, maybe he could wait until the morning. He could wait until Velvette came home again. Vox recalled the last time he did that, then recalled the excruciating pain he woke up in, and frustratedly decided against it.

Fuck it. He’d just have to call and hypnotise you after.

His screen no longer functioned as a phone, so he reached for the handheld one in his pocket and eventually found your contact. Hesitantly he dialed the number, stumbling through the door of his penthouse and onto a nearby couch. His head really hurt now.

You were in bed, tired eyes blinking through a yawn when your phone buzzed, moving slightly across the chipped wood of your bedside table from the vibrations. Lazily you picked it up, only to find the exhaustion leave your body when your eyes met the screen and saw that it was Vox calling. What did he want past midnight? It wasn’t the first time he had called so late, but you had thought for sure he told you he was staying in tonight, so he wasn’t out getting shitfaced. Was he at home getting shitfaced? No, Vox was much too busy to spare a night he hadn’t specifically scheduled. You sighed - the man was so unpredictable - and nervously answered the call.

“Vox, hey,” your soft voice crackled through the phone speaker, and the overlord winced, his head sensitive to volume.

“Doll, I need you to come to the penthouse right now.” he replied, cursing the way his voice glitched with each word.

You frowned from your side of the line, sitting up in bed. You were half dressed, coat discarded lazily on the corner of a chair, your hair unruly and shirt wrinkled. Yes, it wasn’t anything new to get a call from the TV demon this late at night - but this sounded different. A sickening feeling bloomed in your stomach as you began to ramble a string of concerned words.

“Of course, are- are you okay? What’s going on? I’ll be right there.” Things like that tumbled past your lips as you pulled your shoes on. Vox never asked for help - you paled at the thought that something bad had happened to him.

Vox cringed at your words, knowing that there was no going back at this point. He leaned back in his chair in a desperate attempt to accommodate his discomfort, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and to the side. Satan, he was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. If only he had kept his mouth shut in the middle of one of Valentino’s episodes - Vox knew better, yet he screamed at him anyway. The moth was never one to hold back in the midst of an outburst. And Valentino was stronger than he seemed.

Minutes passed. Vox waited. You arrived, pushing windswept hair out of your face as you closed the door gently behind yourself. You stifled a horrified gasp, practically running up to him as you took in the damage. Vox would’ve been embarrassed, only for the pain he was currently in.

“Tell me what I need to do,” you whispered, fingers reaching out to steady his twitching hands. Vox tensed at the unprompted touch, hands jerking away and up towards the back of his head. He grit his teeth hard, clawed fingers searching for discreet buttons near the base of his neck.

“There’s a replacement screen in my bedroom, it’s with all the tech, you’ll know where it is,” Vox said, struggling against his failing machinery. “All you have to do is hold this button here for twenty seconds, then this screen will turn off and you can screw it off. Got it?” Shaking hands pointed at the button he was instructing you to, and you nodded anxiously.

“Yes, of course. Yes, okay, I can do this,” you mumble, reassuring yourself that you weren’t going to somehow kill the overlord in the process of doing some replacement work. This would be fine, right? You swallowed. Your fingers reached for the button tentatively, pressing down on the sleek ridge in the screen for twenty seconds. Vox went limp in your arms, his body completely switched off.

Shit, don’t panic! you thought, trembling as you readjusted him to be more upright. You could almost pretend he was sleeping as you hastily went to retrieve the replacement. You knew exactly where it was. You had been in this room plenty of times, after all, and yet it had been a total shock when Vox had called for this purpose. Maybe he was beginning to trust you? You quickly shoved the thought aside, internally berating yourself for thinking about the complexity of your relationship instead of getting to his side faster.

The changing of the screen itself was particularly easy, despite how unnerving it was to see him headless. You decided you never wanted to do that again - and pressed the same button at the base of his neck once more when the new screen was fully screwed on.

A minute passed where a blank blue screen was the only light source in the room, his system clearly rebooting after needing an entire replacement. You stayed dutifully by his side, careful to stay far enough away that you wouldn’t startle him upon waking up.

When his systems started up again and his face was displayed back on the screen, he initially gasped for air and blinked hard, wildly searching the room around him. Piercing red eyes quickly met your gentle ones and he instinctively relaxed, looking up at you from where he sat slumped at an angle.

You smiled earnestly, feeling out of place in such an open moment with Vox - you almost felt like you should’ve left. But you didn’t.

“You okay? Did I do that right?” you asked, careful to be quiet in fear of overstimulating him after a full reboot. It felt right to be quiet anyway, given that the penthouse was so dark currently. There were no lights on, only the dim blue hue emanating from Vox’s screen and the streetlamps that glowed through large glass windows. It felt easier to be encased in the dark, alone with him; like the two of you could say or do whatever you liked and it was okay because you wouldn’t feel exposed.

He broke your eye contact, eyes searching his palms, small cuts littering here and there from the broken glass. Vox looked up at you again, sitting there so loyally, and he would’ve groaned in humiliation if it weren’t for the sweet look on your face.

“You did it just fine,” Vox was quiet for a moment. “And thank you.” he added after quick consideration, ready to hypnotise you into forgetting.

But he couldn’t do it. The second he met your eyes again he couldn’t do it, because you were good, maybe the only good thing in his life. You cared about him without him needing to manipulate you into it. And that was rare, and he didn’t know if he would ever get that again; so he sat up instead, beckoning you over to his side on the couch.

You obliged, sitting close to him, placing a kiss on the side of his new screen before allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulder as you cuddled into his side. His fans kicked on at the action, whirring gently in the background. You didn’t say anything, just merely concealed giggles as he huffed, sliding a defeated hand down his screen.

“I hate you,” he muttered, and you rolled your eyes.

“I like you too, idiot.” you chirped, grinning to yourself in the darkness.

Neither of you knew what the morning would bring. But you’d stay in the dark for a while, and that would be okay.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

heyyyyy sliding back in here lol

what about soft!jason who just knows when reader needs a hug? like not specific mental health issues but jason just notices a drained reader and decides to clear his aft to take care of his girl??

(this may or may not be completely self-indulgent...)

sending love <333

Heeeeelp not me relating too much to this for the rest of the weeeeekk 💀✨

A lot of scenarios came to mind but this was the most easiest to me

—

What’s an obvious talent with nearly every member of the so called “Batfamily,” was the detective skills. The ability to observe and take in details, noticing the slightest shift in demeanor. Just harnessing the unique gift until it’s second nature was a gift in itself.

Jason wasn’t one to flaunt those abilities of his, but right now, he feels his mind working overdrive trying to figure you out.

As in, figure out your slumped body taking up most of the couch after you collapse on it. Your face hidden away behind the comforter, hiding from the harsh society of the daily grind that always found a way to bug the hell out of you after you believe you’re finally starting to get the hang of it.

“Can I have some couch time, too?” Came Jason’s soft question, gently prodding what he assumed was your shoulder. Your shuffling body grants him permission to settle along the slim space beside you, leaving you undisturbed in your sensory deprivation cocoon.

“Bad day at work, Huh?”

“Mhm.” Came a bland little muffle.

“Want me to make some calls?” Jason offers in an ever so snarky tone. “Take care of some business?”

“Please.” You murmur, taking him by surprise.

By that, he always references using violence just to get a rise outta you, knowing you’d usually click your tongue, roll your eyes, or smack him on the shoulder for his idiocy. This time, you agreed to it, maybe even consider mentally encouraging it.

This wasn’t the first time you agreed, but whenever you did was usually on ‘not so good’ days. Today looked like a ‘not so good’ day.

“Aww, babygirl.” Jason’s arms reinforce around your body, cradling you to himself like a treasured doll.

“Show me what’s underneath this blanket city you got goin’ on.” Jason pinched the fabric with two fingers, giving gentle tugs. “Show me that gorgeous face, pretty girl.”

Your reluctance was to be expected, but you give in. Your flushed face is greeted with crisp air before Jason comes to view, smiling softly with all his handsome beauty.

“There’s my girl,” he whispers, brushing some stray hair tussled by the blanket off to the side.

“Got some soda earlier. Want an ice cream float to feel better?” He asks, watching your head shift as you gesture a no. So distressed, you’d turn away a childhood tradition? Ouch.

“Hmm,” Jason tilts his head back in thought, clicking his tongue. “Need me to kill your boss?”

You nod yes, per his amusement.

“Agh, damn. You should’ve asked me that about a year ago, babe. Fresh outta the ‘soul refund pool’ me woulda’ done so in a heartbeat.”

You groan, hiding your face further in the valley of his neck while his hands rub circles along different points of your back. “S’okay sweetheart. I know what it’s like to wanna kill your boss, but you’re not at work right now.”

He easily shuffles you around as he spoke, hoisting you into his lap in a seated position.

“You’re home with me, safe an’ sound,” he continues as he pulls off your shoes, running his hands along your lower legs to soothe the muscles. “An’ I’m here. Real world isn’t gonna getcha in here.”

Jason’s lips on your forehead settles the sting of bitterness you’ve carried in your chest for hours. He knew just what to say, how to act, and held enough patience for the both of you combined.

You adored him. Your giant red teddy bear.

“Wanna do something fun, babe? Wanna watch an old horror movie?”

The silliest of habits you had with Jason was judging the movies you used to find scary back in the day. While some lived up to their name on the gore filled horror scare, the SFX and editing left something to nearly choke on popcorn over.

After that, it was good habit to end movie night on a comedy. The early Y2K movie parodies seemed to always hit the spot. 

You nod yes to this, craving that relief now more than ever.

“Bet that ice cream is starting to sound good now, huh?” Jason muses, his smirk growing as your head shuffles a yes again.

Thought so.

[mackjlee9]

Leon Kennedy Brainrot

Leon's duality as a dom and sub bottom

Warning; extremely self-indulgent, sub/dom leon&reader, riding, dumbification, slight bondage, creampie, sir kink, slight pet play (reader is referred to as puppy/mutt like once), slight degradation, nipple play, dry humping, cockwarming. Re6 Leon did not leave my mind while writing this, but any Leon works.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 4

next part »»»

Dom!Bottom!Leon is a little mean, honestly, but in the best way possible.

He's the kind of dom bottom that would look down on you as he rides your cock, enjoying watching you writhe underneath his weight, using you like nothing but a toy to satisfy his needs.

Your hands are tied to the headboard of the bed to prevent you from touching him, and he's in love with the view, his blue eyes dark and clouded with pleasure, smirking at the sight of your tears, hearing your whines and whimpers managed to turn him on even more, clenching around your cock and making you cry out his name.

He scoffs, pushing his blond hair back, leaning down to hold himself up with his hands on either side of your head.

"Such a pathetic, mutt, you can't stop cumming inside me, can you? You fucking love filling me with your cum," you held back a whine when you felt how your cum dripped down your cock, Leon's eyes staring into yours, "Answer me."

He mutters holding your face in his hand, making you groan as you blink away the tears gathering in your eyes.

"Y-yes, sir... Love cumming inside you, you feel so good a-around my cock, and I can't hold back," Leon sighed content, his tight and wet walls clenching around your oversensitive cock, "Leon..."

You whined, pulling on the restraints around your wrists and he chuckled, his hips raising and lowering really slowly, teasing and edging you, feeling your cock throbbing inside him.

"Yes~?" He let out, his hips grinding back and forth down on yours.

"Please... Ride me..." Leon released a quiet hum, leaning closer to your face.

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you, puppy," you took a deep breath and got rid of the shame you got, telling him exactly what wanted to hear.

"Please, ride my stupid mutt cock, milk me dry, and call me your dumb puppy, please Leon~," a shiver ran down Leon's spine, and his mind became foggy, licking his lips, moving back and holding himself up in your abdomen, seeing the bruises and scratches he previously left.

He took a deep breath and ignored the burning feeling in his thighs, making sure to call you his and only his every time you came inside him.

Sub!Bottom!Leon is such a whiny and needy baby.

He tends to be well-behaved 'cause he can't really handle your punishments, they're too much for his sensitive body.

He's too shy to admit it, but he loves it when you play with his chest, whether it'll be your mouth or fingers stimulating his nipples, he can't resist. He knows you love his body, but there's something obvious when it comes to his chest and he can't help but moan your name and pull on your hair when you abuse his perky nipples.

He has even considered getting nipple piercings after you used nipple clamps on him, that night was damn crazy.

Pretty boy likes to hump you, your foot, your thigh, even humping on your cock and abdomen, and he gets off on your scent, his nose pressed against your neck or bulge as he lets out loud whimpers.

He's really good and obedient, but there are times when he really, really wants to feel you pounding him and he'll shyly come up behind you while you're busy working on your computer. He'll wrap his arms around you and whisper in your ear, "Can I cockwarm you, sir?"

And how can you deny that sad puppy dog look in his eyes?

However, Leon has a hard time staying still while he waits for you to finish your work, his hands trembling as he holds onto your shoulders, quiet moans leaving his lips, being muffled against your neck.

At some point you wanted to tease him a bit, see how long he could hold on before breaking the rule, but he just cried out your name.

"Pl-please, don't... I'm gonna c-cum if you... Keep doing that, sir, I wanna... Be good for you, sir~," damn, hearing his shaky voice while his walls clenched around you made it hard for you to keep focused on what you were doing.

"Fucking hell..." You muttered, pushing the chair you were sitting on back and stood up, pinning Leon to the wall, watching attentively how he threw his head back, his back arched and his thighs trembled under your hold, "Fuck, baby, you make it hard for me to control myself when you're this fucking sexy and adorable," he let out a sob as he held onto you, placing a messy kiss on your lips as he held you close to his body.

"Fuck me hard, please~... Make me dumb on your cock, sir~."

[mhsdatgo]

Do you think the show is biased against the Greens vs. Team Black? If so, how should the show have demonstrated that both teams are awful, in your opinion?

Hello anon!

I've got a lot to say on this one.

First of all, yes. I totally think that the show had some obvious kind of bias towards the Blacks. Not necessarily with the way the Greens were treated as devils with no likeable qualities except for Alicent (even if there are several instances of them doing so) but more because of the way the Blacks were whitewashed.

Rhaenyra.

Look, you'll never catch me not expressing my contempt for this woman, no matter the fact she was brought up by a man who did nothing but spoil, enable and indulge her in everything and anything she says and does. I can see the path they're taking in the show by adapting her as an irresponsible woman who flees at the minimal inconvenience and cowers to her dad at any minor inconvenience, but literally everything that makes her Rhaenyra Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, is removed.

She just looks like the next girlboss Targ Dragonrider queen after Daenerys. They basically made GOT season 8 and sent show!Rhaenyra as an apology. But in doing so they basically made her... Boring. Her and her children, which I don't love or hate. (The closest one I am to "liking" is Jace, I guess, but the leaks are just making me rethink everything again.)

I would've loved it if they had given us ONE pre-Dance book!Rhaenyra scene that would've made her appear more ruthless than what we have on the show, and not just the time when she offered 10 year old Aemond to be tortured. Make her ask Daemon to go after Vaemond (sorry pookie) like she did in the books, make her feed his corpse to her dragon. Sure that wouldn't have made me change my mind about how much I dislike her bUt it WOULD'VE made me go "damn she stands on business."

I wanted her to act out of grief and insist on going to war when she miscarried Visenya and lost her father, because although I don't think that the Greens did kill that poor little girl (she had dragon features and was likely going to die anyway) I do think that Rhaenyra should've been allowed her pain and the irrational and impulsive thinking that comes with it.

Alicent.

OH BOY.

Where do I even begin with this one?

Olivia Cooke SLAYED. Lemme just start with that. She took the whole cake and ate it too and left no crumbs. The direction they've taken with her is a realistic one, at least for the actions and decisions she's taking. Reckless, for sure. Risky, deathly even. Her fear is realistic, even for someone as Alicent Hightower no matter how much determination had protected her from dread.

What I don't like is the way she was treated as everyone's object and her shutting up about it. From Rhaenyra to Larys, everyone uses her for their own disgusting pleasures or outlet of frustration. And she's made to take it without fighting back even once. The one time she does, bless her, she's treated as a woman who's gone mad.

Now, I would've been fine with her taking all these hits if only they knew how to make Alicent change properly and completely from there. If it was me, the incident at Driftmark would be my start to revenge. No longer would I look at Rhaenyra with hope to reconcile with her. No longer would I bear any more of Viserys' shit when it's clear his first daughter (the image of his first wife) bears way more importance to him than me and all the four kids he forced me to have combined.

They'd have to nightly talk me out of suffocating him with my pillow a minute more for every wince and ache my now eyeless son suffers, for a month straight if not more. I wouldn't eagerly stand by his side and listen to his last words only to mistake them for permission to go along with my plans. I'd stand there passively at best, waiting for him to be done, before leaving the room.

Everything else can just be left the same way it was. Her fear when she realizes the effect Viserys' death has on her and her children is realistic. I'd break down for a moment too. I'd act as soon as I could too. I'd cry tears of relief, dread, grief (depends on how you interpret that scene) too. After letting his stinky ass rot for a fortnight. I would've preferred this to be a "there was a plan, but we weren't ready to act it out" situation more than a "what the fuck is going on" situation.

I'd also slap that "you toil in service of other men" dialogue from Rhaenys right back in her face (sorry grandma) since if we're talking about the show, it's literally the only thing she has done throughout the season.

House Velaryon.

HEAVY on this one. They have been done so wrong on so many levels. Every single one of them.

Laena was made to "pursue" Daemon, she changes from a precious, small and shy little girl to a confident, seductive young woman (teenager for fuck's sake, screw everyone who thought making her change this way would've been good) and later on a side piece, "the one Daemon settles for because he can't have Rhaenyra" even if it was known that she was the only one he was never unfaithful to, "she's made her peace" (WTF???????).

It apparently never hits Corlys that the bitch who he believes has made him childless (I AM TALKING ABOUT DAEMON) deserves no support from him and his house or that Luke should actually become a ward there at Driftmark if he's so adamant on keeping this farce that he's a Velaryon and the next Lord of the Tides.

Vaemond is seen as the odd, evil and power hungry one for pointing out that his house is falling into an OBVIOUS bastard's hands whether this kid likes it or not (even as my support for this claim goes as far as questioning Luke's parentage) and to add insult to injury he's made to say Rhaenyra is a whore, which never happened in the books.

The Silent Five are removed completely, Vaemond's sons as well (@redrosesandcharmingsouls knows I was FROTHING at the mouth waiting for Daemion Velaryon to make an appearance but the motherfuckers couldn't even give me that) so that we don't have any kind of reason to believe an execution so brutal and unjust had any repercussions on the support House Velaryon has on the Blacks overall. They are made into Rhaenyra's cheering squad through and thorough, even if they have every reason to be anything but.

The Laenor situation is actually really fucking funny. They made him leave instead of killing him to not bury the gays and they aren't aware that this has totally fucked everything up. Like thanks for telling me ALL of Rhaenyra's children are bastards. Cool, HOW THE FUCK TO YOU HANDLE SEASMOKE NOW?

Aegon II.

No this isn't an apologist post. I'm actually slithering on the ground on my knees for TGC daily but Aegon is a clusterfuck right now, no matter how you look at it. They tell us he's a psycho drunken rapist and he likes to watch children fighting every Sunday and when you actually see his adult version he's a crying love starved bitch of a man and he winces and frowns when Vaemond's head is cut off.

Instead of taking the throne to protect his children, he takes it because he's forced. And that makes Alicent the villain in everything once again. Now it doesn't matter if you look at the book version or what we see of the show version, everywhere you look this is just out of character.

It's inconsistent. He's made the worst thing ever so people can say "See??? They believe a rapist is better to put to the throne than our girlboss virtuous heir!!!" you either make him a psycho or a touch starved baby, why make both?

So yeah, I think this is all. For now. We'll have to see how this show progresses to see if I change my mind in any way.

Thanks for the ask!!!! ^_^

[oharabunny]

His Cheating Allegations

Description: Going off of my yandere!caretaker!Miguel idea, here's what I think of him in regards to him cheating.

Word Count: 798

Warning: mentions of sex, cheating Miguel, OOC!Miguel, obsession, delusion, not beta read, completely self indulgent fantasies of the author

He has a past of cheating, and he's not proud of it. But ever since he met you, he knew that he would move heaven and earth, the multiverse if you will, just for you. You are literally his whole universe.

He can't really look at other women (or anyone of any gender) the same anymore. Nobody quite compares to you.

You don't really see how because you're dysfunctional and useless to him. You wonder if he's seeing someone else in you.

He doesn't, because there aren't any variants of you across the multiverse.

But still, you think you're a dime a dozen as far as your personality and looks goes. And most people would agree with you.

Which is why it's a mystery how there are still some women that want to throw themselves at him even when he's busy ogling at you through his orange screens.

Maybe they thought they could compete with you.

(To you, they probably could. They'd be more intelligent, useful, witty, pretty, and hard working than you.)

What you and them don't know is that it is going to be a huge challenge to get him to cheat on you.

He's not necessarily infalliable, yes, he can fold, but under very certain circumstances.

Such as, if he was away from home for too long and cannot keep his pent up feelings to himself. He would need the other woman to face away from him, mask on, quiet, body shaped, and skin tone similiarly to yours in order to go through with it. He has to imagine you and your face in order to immerse himself with her.

Even then, it's still not the same and he knows, and realistically, he'll stop midway because it just won't feel as good.

On top of the fact he doesn't want to hurt you. He doesn't want to give you a reason to leave him.

(He would keep it a secret to himself to the day he dies.)

Which is why he's even more reluctant to cheat on you even if he does find someone else attractive because he has to make sure they're completely clean. He can't risk giving you a disease. You're a fragile and helpless being where anything can kill you. (Well, that's just what he thinks.) Your health and wellbeing is above all else.

Plus, he doesn't really have the time to cheat. He's too invested in both you and keeping the balance of the multiverse. You think he has time to go looking around?

Even the most persistent homewreckers will eventually tire out from their attempt to break his gaze on you.

Even the desperate ones.

Here's a scenario:

Other Woman: Miguel~ I'd do anything for you. Please, just give me a chance! I don't even mind being your second wife if I have to.

Miguel: Then would you be able to bear the responsibilities of taking care of my "first" wife above yourself? You'll need to take care of our children too. Fill in for me whenever I'm not home to take care of her. You have to understand that I will always put her, our children, her pets, and her belongings before you. That also means if she doesn't want me to touch you, I won't. Also, if you and I have children, they won't be your children anymore.

Also Miguel: Wait, if I let you take care of her, she might like you more than me and leave me. Nah, fuck that, I don't want you getting in between us.

Other Woman: Okay damn! You psycho! 😥

I don't think he'd do well in a poly relationship like a triad or separate relationship either. In a triad, he'd be threatened by them taking you or even you preferring them slightly more than him in any way. He has to be your number one and only. Even if the dynamics were in his favor, he's so so into you that he's very biased to give all his attention to you since sex for him is about pleasuring you. He wouldn't be a good partner for the third person if they value his attention and care too (they'd be cucked and forgotten most of the time💀). He also doesn't have the time to keep up with other relationships.

Back to the idea of him cheating on you, another way to increase his chances of cheating on you is if you consistently reject his advances and feelings for you. He might do it out of spite and sexual frustration, but he wouldn't find any joy in it especially when he realizes you don't care and you just want to leave. He'd be busy trying to manipulate you into depending on him.

Either way.

He is a you simp through and through.

A/N: This is super self indulgent as you can tell. This will never be who Miguel is canonically nor is it super realistic, but wishful thinking yknow? 🤷‍♀️

[dufferpuffer]

In continuation of the 'pillow prince/ss/' topic.. Snape sex hcs? I remember you said it's basically impossible to drag him into bed but I'D TRY.

You're just spoiling me, aren'tcha? First Remus now Sev... Severus Snape is devoted to duty. Its the only thing holding him together. How often does he even go to bed…? A full-time teacher, a spy, a death eater, Dumbledore's dark little knight - He probably considers the time he spends marking 'rest enough'.

His self-esteem is dead. So dead he has come to terms with its corpse and uses it as protection. He's been teased his entire life for his looks. By his parents, by his schoolmates, by his teachers, by his cult, by his students... He's proud of how it has hardened him. It's become part of his ego: He's heard it all before - and now the words run off his oily feathers like raindrops.

Having someone say they think him anything less than hideous? Baffling. But while Remus would become a flustered mess... I think Severus would stages-of-grief it. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression… Because his romantic, affectionate side is also a corpse. It died alongside his best friend and he's spent the last decade-and-a-half making sure it stays buried.

To bring it back? That will take a stubborn dedication that rivals his. It takes grit and damn near necromancy. He will fight back, too - because to raise it from the dead is to raise Lily along with it. That is the greatest hurdle: Best friend or love of his life - either way she was the only person he has been affectionate with. He will need to digest that. He hasn't worked through his grief yet, because it is a difficult thing to work through alone. …but he CAN reach Acceptance.

One step, one stage at a time - peeling down each layer of his onion, like an ogre... Things move slowly with Severus - and in the opposite order you might expect. I guess I will go through what a relationship would be like with Severus, in a sorta dot-point fanfic format:

First note: He is allergic to showing weakness - and what he considers a weakness can be... strange. Indulgence. Emotions, affection, touch, company - he has no time for that garbage. He is in control of himself, of his body, of his feelings, of his life. Meticulous, complete control. This man 'tops' exclusively**

He is ashamed of masturbation. It means he has lost control of his emotions - and it grinds against his ego like sandpaper. He almost never does it. Thinking about anyone in particular when doing it is an insult to them - and he hates feeling guilty. He keeps it simple and almost self-harmingly dry. He has more important things to be doing with his time than engaging with this weakness…

You make your interest in him clear. He goes through everything - he belittles and denies your feelings, he gets angry with you for bothering him, he asks you to stop saying such nonsense... and he gets frustrated that even when you've finally shut up, he is STILL dwelling on it. He spends so long just tossing things up, sorting through his grief, imagining it... so, SO sick of jerking off… …when the dam bursts - he fucks. If he is going to be spending all this time obsessing over these stupid feelings he may as well get something out of it. Only sex, though. Sex he is in control of. Clothes on, greedy, not pretty, not nice. 'Thats what you wanted from me, yes? Well you've gotten it. Happy?!?' ((He does not expect the answer to be 'yes'.))

He thinks one time was too many, and did it only to take it off his mind - and to stop having you bother him about it. But it is easier for you to get him to do it a second time. And then a third... fourth... The more times it happens - and nothing embarrassing or bad follows... well, if he has done it once, he may as well do it more, right…? You are evidently trustworthy. '…You may come to my chambers IF I call - at no other times. I am too busy to play silly games.' A casual physical relationship - to solve a problem of distraction and concentration. That's all.

He does start to call. Occasionally at first - and every time he almost shows surprise that you actually turn up. But he gets less and less surprised... and starts getting more and more needy. 'You're late. I sent for you half an hour ago. Do you think I am made of time?!' He doesn't even realize how needy he sounds, because this activity is now ingrained in his routine. He is used to it. And because he is used to it: He touches more. More clothes come off. But never his own. He has gone from 'hands-on-waist' fucking to caressing your naked body - slow rolls of his hips, making his own breathe shudder, enjoying every sensation.

One day his summons aren't replied to. At first he angry. How dare you. How DARE you waste his time!? The next time they are alone he snaps at you bitterly. 'Finally tired of me? Got your fill? Met a better man?' When the response is more along the lines of 'I was a bit ill' or 'I was out'... he realizes he has shown far too much of his hand. How embarrassing. He is speechless at his own foolishness. He showed an inch of vulnerability and expects to be raked through the coals for it. ...What he doesn't expect is acceptance, tenderness and respect.

He had forgotten that he wasn't the one to initiate this arrangement - that he was wanted. Desired. In his mind he had taken control: Everything happened when he wanted, where he wanted and in whichever way he wished. To be touched in a friendly way? To he apologized to - for being made to worry? To have make-up sex offered…? '…Yes. Alright.' Its the next layer peeled off. He starts listening to offers, enjoying being asked instead of being answered. It's still a casual affair - and yet seeing them talk to other people no longer makes his hackles raise in concern for his secrets. Running into them in the morning no longer makes his skin crawl with shame and embarrassment for the night before. He feels excited when they pay a visit in the midday, offering an impromptu meeting. It is oddly... comfortable.

Of course it can't always be sex in the midday. It is too much effort, takes too much time, energy and clean-up. It suits him fine when you jump on the chance to put him in your mouth. At first he is a little taken-aback - but it feels nice. He says nothing other than contented hums, but as you get better he groans and arcs his back a little. He doesn't care what happens when he finishes - swallow or not, as long as it is not a mess for him to clean up. …Well, he tries to be that callous about it… but it doesn't last long. There is a tenderness to the act he can't deny. It isn't the mutual-benefit fucking. This is a gift for him to enjoy. That realization settles and festers in him. It creates a soft feeling he doesn't recognize... and a desire not to owe you anything.

So, without much fanfare: he reciprocates. He gets you on his seat, or on his desk, and gets down on his knees... He is a little nervous about it - when was the last time he did this, if ever…? - But he has no need to be. He is a god with his mouth. It's his attention to detail. His devotion to getting things done thoroughly and properly - even this. What starts as an embarrassing action from the weakness of his heart turns into a strong pleasure for him. He LOVES oral. It isn't him losing control: it's him gaining it. Even when his hair is gripped and yanked, even if he is pulled close and suffocated a little on you - HE is making that happen. HE is making you do that. He never expected this to make him so happy, so hot. He never expected to undo the buttons of his high collar so his neck could move more easily, to unbutton and fold up his right sleeve so he could get his hands messy... To have enough fun to start saying some truly dirty things… 'That good, is it~?' 'My-! How delicate you are today!' 'Stop squirming. Too sensitive…? Just grit your teeth and bear it.' ...and he didn't expect to not be laughed at for such things.

He certainly didn't expect to get so into it that he kissed you to shut you up as you came. A shock to both of you… another wall crumbled. Turns out he likes that too. He starts initiating sexual activity with a kiss. He prefers kissing to talking. It is succinct and expressive. Walk into his office: as soon as the door is shut your back is pressed against it, wrists in his hands, his mouth against yours. If he starts losing control of the kiss he gently bites your lip, dragging his teeth along it teasingly. Your tongue invades his mouth before he has a chance to do it first: he just about shoves your hands into his robes, tearing into your clothes... This man lives for kissing now.

But he still doesn't realize this is more than casual, that this is something he needs… Until you chat. Its a quiet moment. You comment on the parchments rolled at the edge of his desk. 'Oh - that is just my own research into the effects of aconite. I had to work with it extensively a few years ago.' You take an interest, and he starts regaling deeper and deeper into his studies: how poorly documented others' research is; how it reacts to other ingredients; how modern brewing processes can draw so much more out of it - 'you know, the plant is often just passed off as toxic when even basic purification charms are enough to-' ...He is blabbering. On and on about a dull topic nobody cares about… yet you are listening. His jaw drops a little. He realizes that, for the first time in two decades, someone cares. Someone truly cares. About HIM. His thoughts, his interests... He never thought he could have this again. He didn't think that for the sex, either - but sex, compared to this, was easy to procure. He wants to kiss you again. But not for lust this time.

Suddenly it doesn't feel so embarrassing to allow his eyes to become wet, to draw a shuddering breathe as he builds the courage - of which he has masses of - to say something important: '…I am afraid I have come to love you.' It is a terrifying thing to say, but he has never once shied away from saying what is important, even if it results in pain. And yet this time, for once… he feels like he can trust that it wont.

** Many times later, he is laying down as his shirt gets unbuttoned, his collarbone kissed... He doesn't feel ashamed, even as he gently strokes his own dick, encouraging it to harden. He pulls his arms from his shirt sleeves, fearless of his dark mark being exposed. For once work is at the back of his mind as he allows himself to be pushed back down to into the pillows, chuckling as he is told: 'Shh… just lay still darling… I'll take care of you tonight…' ...And he does. Control well out of his hands and a smile on his face.

[moobloom-mention]

Is a Good Night's Rest Really Too Much to Ask For? (Yes. Yes It Is.)

Summary: Macaque is...a lot of things. But he'll take the title of "a busy monkey" just for time's sake.

Whether he's listening to the Sisterhood's neverending list of complaints or grooming rowdy infants, he's never not trapped in a state of constant motion.

It's why he doesn't ask for much back from the troop. Only that he's allowed to get whatever sleep he can at night.

It's too bad that a certain Sister's kid has different plans.

Content Warning(s): Fluff, Mentions of violence

Word Count: 1528

This is apart of a self-indulgent AU that plays into the natural hierarchy of Rhesus Macaques. It started as a joke with Blame about Macaque having a "Bitch-Squad" he gossips with and it just...this baby's now got like 8 drabbles and a whole story for MK's involvement.

----------

Macaque wouldn't call himself the most efficient when it comes to getting sleep.

He'll follow the rest of the troop's lead, finding a kind branch to rest on just as the sky begins to paint itself in shades of orange and pink. He'll sit, curled up against Wukong and think about how nice it would be to finally submit to the thrall of sleep.

But a twig would snap. Or Wukong would snore just a bit too loudly and his mind would wake once more.

The sound never mattered, the fear it'd elicit from Macaque was indiscriminate. Danger was noisy. And sound guaranteed trouble.

It was an old mantra- one that screamed of a past life in which Macaque was never enough and that he was not important enough to sleep in the branches of trees.

His mother had amounted to nothing; why would the troop ever think her daughter son would either?

And so, laid at the base of the troop's tree, Macaque had learned. He'd memorized every aching pattern the forest followed, desperate to understand the sound of imminent danger less he find himself in the jaws of something.

The troop would not have mourned his death. But Macaque sure of fuck would've.

His paranoia hadn't stayed with the ravaged troop he'd once called "home", following him into a new life he'd built at Wukong's side. He still doesn't find sleep to be an easy accomplishment.

But tonight is a pleasant surprise- as the forest, for once, seems to find peace with itself. Above the gentle hum of wind he can hear the gentle rustle of birds settling down, accented only by the continuous buzz of crickets.

It's chaotic in its own right. And it spoke more of peace than a quiet forest ever could.

"Psst-"

At least, it had been peaceful.

Macaque forces his head to turn toward the high-pitched voice, eyes tugging themselves open in a weak attempt to grasp at consciousness. Even he can admit he wasn't trying too hard, the lack of effort obvious in whoever had bothered him.

"Macaque!"

"I'm- I'm up," the shadow yawns, teeth slightly bared. The voice definitely hadn't been shrill enough to belong to anyone in the Sisterhood, so sue him for not being in a hurry. Despite his disgruntled mood, his arms still reach to grab whoever's infant had managed to scamper away from their mother.

Cold hands press into his fur and Macaque's lips smack to try and quell any fears that the older was truly upset.

Even in his state of borderline unconscious he knows he's not annoyed. He's more so...curious?

Macaque had always been a light sleeper, and considering how clumsy infants tended to be, it was rare to find someone able to sneak up on him.

Y'know what, maybe "curiosity" would be better described as "suspicion". Only one member of the troop tended to be that stealthy.

He dares to glance down toward the bundle of thin fur, just barely able to catch a glimpse of the infant's facial features. Even in the dim moonlight he can make out hints of scarlet across their face.

Yep. Macaque's sanity be damned, that's Martha's kid.

Fitting, he thinks dryly. Sneaky, just like your mother.

Speaking of which...

"Y'know," he murmurs, hands already beginning to groom the infant's fur. He pretends it's only because he's still exhausted. "Your mom isn't gonna be happy if she wakes up and you're missing-"

Macaque freezes as clumsy hands force his lips closed, the infant making a harsh "shh" noise that sounds a bit too much like Martha's hiss.

"I'll be gone in the mornin'," they swear, pressing themselves further into Macaque's chest. It's a movement born from desperation and he faintly wonders if it's related to how Martha usually pries unwanted infants off herself. "I couldn't sleep."

That's great, kid. But I don't want my throat torn out-

Blood pools from where Macaque's fangs sink into his tongue, thankful to still hold a filter despite the soothing sounds of the forest.

Martha would have a fit if the kid wasn't able to wake up before her. And it certainly isn't Macaque's job to take care of a Sister's kid.

Maybe in his old troop. But not in this one.

Still-

"...fine. You can stay."

Macaque gently corrals the infant closer to his chest, tucking his knees inward in preparation to fall back asleep. The sun still wouldn't be up for another few hours; he might as well try and get more rest.

"I caught a cool bug today."

Ah fuck. What was the gimmick with Martha's kid again?

Right, he thinks, pressing a hand to his eyebrows. Quiet walker, constant talker.

Macaque spares a glance toward the kid's wide, entertained eyes. There's a beat of silence and- to his own surprise -Macaque's lips tug upward into a grin.

You're the one banned from the gossip sessions, he hums triumphantly. In all honesty, it's an impressive accomplishment; infants had to be extremely rowdy to get banned from those.

There's respect in being able to annoy the Sisterhood that much.

And so, Macaque finds himself nodding, eyes already closed as he tucks the infant closer. "Oh yeah?"

If the kid's a talker, he might as well let them tire themselves out.

"Tell me more, kiddo."

"It was so cool; it was all smooth and green and had the biggest wings-!"

Slowly but surely the younger's voice begins to turn muffled, far too weak against the fog of sleep beginning to seep into Macaque's mind. It's a nice feeling; nothing beats a full night of sleep, especially with the gossip session happening tomorrow.

Jannett had mentioned something about prioritizing food for the Sisterhood, right? It was some entitled opinion like that- there seems to be a lot of those.

They wanted first claim to food, to branches...just so many claims to what the Sisterhood deserves.

Macaque quickly waves aside the thoughts, soothing the headache that'd begun to arise.

Who cares? he thinks, irritated. It's an issue for tomorrow.

For now he can rest on this nice...comfortable branch and get the best, most relaxing and much-needed bout of sleep he's ever had...

...

But what would the world be if not cruel to Macaque?

A hand smacks against his back and Macaque instinctively flinches, an excuse for holding a Sister's kid on the tip of his tongue as he whirls around.

Only, it isn't Martha's bared teeth and ugly snarl that greets him. His nose wrinkles. It's so much worse.

Macaque's lips curl as Wukong's hand sleepily taps at his fur again, the king clearly not coherent enough to handle this situation. Martha's kid had probably just spoken a little too loud and managed to rouse Wukong's terrible instincts that something was amiss.

A tiger could rip the king to shreds and he'd still ask Macaque what was going on.

"That's not ours, is it?'

Macaque can't help the way his cheeks flood with color, suddenly thankful it's far too dark for anyone to notice his embarrassment. He lunges for some form of retort, anything to recover from how flustered he is.

"No, Wukong. And he's not an it, he's Martha's son. Now go back to sleep you big lummox-"

There isn't an ounce of complaint, the other's hand going limp against Macaque's back at an instant. Macaque's eyes roll. Heavens above, why he entertains Wukong's attempts to make sense of the world around him will never have reason behind it.

The king can't even comprehend that Macaque might need a little help with getting the infant to go to sleep.

But it seems that by just lifting his hand, Wukong had done just that.

"Is that really King Wukong?"

For Martha's iconic "constant talker", Macaque nearly has to strain to hear the question that'd been whispered out. He can't possibly understand why there's so much trepidation in that small voice, the infant's limbs rigid against his chest like they were facing a snake.

Oh. Right. Because it's only time to be quiet when Wukong's involved.

Heavens forbid Macaque gets a bit of relief.

"Mhm," he whispers. As pissed as he is for Martha's hateful teachings, he could definitely use this to his advantage. "We've gotta be super quiet to make sure he doesn't wake up again, yeah?"

"I can talk quieter."

Goddamnit.

"That's cute, kid. But can you at least try to go to bed?"

"I can't!"

"Listen, Paul, I have a lot of things I need to do in the morning and if you keep talking then I swear-"

"Paul?"

Macaque’s limbs lock, frozen in place as his fur ruffles. Oh fuck, there's no way he just got this kid's name wrong. 

Think, think, think, Macaque. You've got one more guess before this ticking time bomb explodes. 

Okay, okay. Martha's the one that hates obscure names. She's had...fuck how many kids? Thirty? There's Paul, Jackson, Isaiah- 

"...James?" 

The infant blinks and Macaque can practically hear a loud buzzer declaring his doom. 

"My name's Henry," Henry chirps. "Did you forget my name-? That's okay, Mama forgets my name all the time and confuses me for my brothers and sisters. Can you believe that! She's called me Jared before but-"

Ah, so much for sleeping tonight. 

[josiewinters1999]

Normal (p1)

L Lawliet x Chubby!Reader

Part 2

Summary: It lights a fire inside L that Light Yagami is allowed to be a "normal" young man. He has a loving family, a bright future, and... a girlfriend that isn't thousands of miles away.

Words: 1528

Contains: established relationship, angst, jealousy, pet names, L being depressed, takes place right before Yotsuba arc.

A/N: This is my first time writing for L but I just really wanted to dive into the facet of his character that truly just longs to be a regular guy with regular friends and a regular life. It's very obvious he loves his job, craves his work even, but you can see his yearning for something normal peek through here and there throughout the series. So this is just a little something to indulge him in that desire ^.^ I will most likely do a part 2 so stay tuned and comment below if you wanna see it!!

***

Looking out of the corner of his eye, a certain detective watches as the blond model fawns over the teen boy on the couch next to him. He pretends not to notice the way she looks at him, with the pure adoration and affection in her eyes that only young love like that could produce. With every move she makes, climbing all over her beau, the chain attached to him rattles. 

L covertly reaches down to shove a hand in his pocket. The linty insides of his jeans hold a roughly folded, and long faded photo that meant more to him than even the resolution of the Kira case. He dare not pull it out, in fear the man handcuffed to him sees it. L thinks back to the summer it was taken, the first time in his life he had ever felt like just a normal boy. These days, he thinks more and more about that summer. The summer he fell in love. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous of what Light had. He had Misa… right there in his arms; close enough to touch, to hold, to kiss. What did L have? A crumpled photo, the occasional hurried phone call, and an annual one weekend visit… if he was lucky. 

Sighing, the black haired detective turns his attention back to the couple next to him, the two unknowingly taunting him with memories he can’t shake any longer. Forcing his usual stoic expression back onto his face, L calls for the blond girl’s attention. “Misa,” he groans, tired of listening to her shrill voice all afternoon, “Would you mind giving Light some time alone for now? I have some things about the case I’d like to discuss with him in private.”

She pouts, clinging even harder to Light’s shirt, “Aw, Ryuzaki, do I really have to go now? I feel like I’ve barely had enough time with Light today. You guys are always so busy.” Gritting his teeth in annoyance, and envy, L nods, “Yes, we have, and the sooner you leave, the sooner we can catch Kira, and the sooner you can have all the time in the world with your beloved Light.” The last two words came out a bit harsher than he intended, but he always had a tendency of being blunt, something she loved about him. Huffing, Misa gives Light a last kiss on the cheek as she struts out, promising to see them in the morning before shutting the door politely behind her. 

Straightening his shirt, Light smirks in L’s direction, “If I didn’t know any better Ryuzaki, I’d say that Misa was making you jealous.” Damn Light’s deduction skills. L clenches his jaw for a moment, then pulls out his phone. 

Choosing to make no remarks about Light’s previous comment, L instead decides to ask him a question, “Light, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to make a quick personal call.  How good is your English?” Dumbfounded at the ridiculous question, Light struggles to come up with the appropriate answer, “At a basic conversational level, I’d say. Not any better though, I’m afraid.” 

Quickly dialing a number into his flip phone, L mutters flatly… “Good.” 

The bakery phone rings during what was certainly the early morning hours in New York, the most busy time of day for a bakery. Finally catching a break from the rush, Mr (L/N) answers the phone in the back, barking harshly into it, “What do you want? We ran out of chocolate cannoli for the day, if that’s what you want, you’re gonna have to call back tomorrow.” 

“Is this (L/N) Cannolis?” L’s tired, unsure voice timidly asks. “I don’t know buddy, is it?” Mr (L/N) snaps back, “You called me. What do you want? These customers are busting my balls here today, I don’t got time to sit and chat.” 

The detective rubs his toes together as he stands on the other side of the room, staring out the window at the night sky, “Is your daughter there, Sir?” 

“My daughter? Who the hell is this?” 

Sighing, L looks over his shoulder at Light sitting on the couch looking through documents, seemingly, and thankfully, uninterested in this entire conversation. The last thing he would want is his prime suspect hearing the name he’s about to ask for. “It’s Luke… I’m… I’d like to speak to (Y/N)… if that’s alright.” 

“Luke?” Mr (L/N) tries to wrack his brain for memories of anyone named Luke, “You the skinny English boy my little girl insists on throwing her life away for? Spiky black hair and raggedy clothes? Sits stupid in the chair?” 

“Uh… yes… that would be me. Is she there?” The last thing L needs right now is to be reminded how out of place and odd he was in the world of everyday people. 

With a groan, Mr (L/N) hums, “Yeah she’s here lemme go get her for you.” After letting his daughter date L for five years now, he knew better than to interfere with their shambles of a relationship anymore. 

“Hey darling,” he yells to the kitchen, “your deadbeat boyfriend is on the phone askin’ for you.” 

L smirks as he hears a mad scramble through the phone and it’s snatched out of the Italian man’s hand. A tired, panting, and excited, feminine voice calls to him, “Luke? Is that really you?”

Just hearing her voice, even calling him by yet another alias, after all these months, made half the tension from L’s shoulders lift and float away in the breeze. God, he’d missed this so much… “Yes, it’s me,” he smiles fully, unable to hold back the joy any longer. 

Clutching the phone to her ear, the portly, curly haired girl smiles back, “I was so scared something had happened to you, I haven’t heard from you in forever.” A pang of guilt to his heart, L purses his lips, “I’m sorry for that, I really did mean to call. I just haven’t had the chance lately.” 

The woman hums, “I figured. You’re working that case in Japan, right? I read about it online. Kora, it was?”

“Kira,” he gently corrects. There is a pause for a moment, he can hear the papers shuffling in Light’s hands behind him and the bustle of the bakery through the phone. What he wouldn’t give to be there with her right now… 

“Is everything okay?” the baker finally asks after some time, “It’s not like you to be so quiet, especially during the few times you actually get a chance to call like this.” 

Always so intuitive. L sighs, reaching into his pocket to feel the folded photo. The photo of her smiling face from all those summers ago. “This case,” he begins, “it’s been slow these days. I feel… I feel deflated… in lack of a better word.” 

She hums, “Ah, I see…” There is another awkward pause before she perks up, “Well when you crack it, there’s a raspberry cannoli here with your name on it. I… I think about you every time I make one. They’re all you eat when you’re here,” she chuckles. 

Another smile tugs on his lips, “How can I resist when they taste so divine? They’re only prepared by the most beautiful baker in all the world… and I would know that fact more than anyone.”

Her infectious chuckle nearly threatens to stop L’s heart. “Cream puff!” her pet name never fails to make him blush as red as one of the raspberries she makes the cannolis with, “You better hope papa isn’t listening on the other line.” 

“The old man hasn’t scared me off yet,” he retorts, “And what man wouldn’t want his daughter to be admired like the goddess she is?”

Before she can scold him again for flattering her too much, L can hear her father yelling at her on the line. He can’t quite make the words out, but knowing him, it probably wasn’t too kind. With a defeated sigh, the woman on the phone mumbles, “I’m so sorry cream puff but I gotta… I gotta go soon.” 

L’s shoulders sink, his heart along with it. Why was his precious time with her always cut so short? “Well, I suppose it’s for the best,” he huffs, “I have things to do here as well. I… thank you for talking to me. I… missed hearing your voice. It’s been hard to focus without it lately, if I’m being frank.” 

She holds back the tears welling in her eyes, “I missed your voice too… I hope you solve this case soon.” 

He nods, looking down at his feet on the carpet, “As do I. The second I do, I’m coming to see you, for a week at least… I miss you… quite a bit, in fact. I-” 

“Cream puff, I really gotta get going now,” she interrupts hurriedly, “I’m so sorry. Call again soon, will you? I’ll catch you later, bye!” 

As the dial tone rings in his ear, L slumps his shoulders and clenches his jaw, muttering to himself the three words he meant to tell her just seconds ago, “I love you…”

[rottenstrawberrymilk]

jewels i can fuck

lupin iii x reader

lewd, not fully nsfw

3.7k words

     It's different fucking him.

        Different from the other man you called your husband. Different from the passionate-less, unenthusiastic performances you've found yourself utterly disappointed with. It's different with him--with Lupin III. He makes love to you. You sometimes cringe, embarrassed about even using the phrase to label what he does to you. But what else is there to describe it? The way he kisses you, the way his hips seem to move in harmony with yours as he holds you, close and tight enough to feel the heat of his breath on your face. 

        To say you regard him fondly is an understatement. 

        "You seem lonely, baby."

        That was all it had taken for you to let him in. Through the opened window, into your heart, your mind, your house, your bed. 

        It'd all started on a whim, on nothing but lust and thrill alone. Maybe that's why it was so special to you. 

        It's not your fault. It's not your fault you let him have you, time and time again. But one way or another, no matter how you spin it, no matter how you romanticize or deny it, you're cheating. You're indulging in a sin, and fuck if it doesn't feel good if you're doing it with Lupin. No one else in the world could make being...well...awful this much fun. 

        It's not my fault, you seem to repeat again and again in your head like a broken record. Whether you're all alone, curled up on the cold mattress, or in Lupin's arms, it never stops playing. 

        When is he ever here for me? When is he ever here at all? How can you marry someone and then leave at every chance you get? How can you marry someone and barely see them at all? 

        It'd been a mistake to marry for money. You found that out as soon as Lupin modestly let you know about his own financial situation via a diamond necklace he'd left laid out in the valley between your breasts as you slept, right before he'd snuck back out into the night. If only you'd held out for a guy like him. But you'd been desperate...and divorce didn't seem like a good option anymore. God you couldn't stand the lawyers, the cops, the system in general...

        Lupin doesn't even bring up the word "divorce".

        "I'm fucking a married chick" seems like a better brag than "I'm fucking a divorcee". 

        Sometimes you find yourself thinking as Lupin's teeth graze over your chest, sucking at the soft skin in an attempt leave clear lovebites--he wanted to mark you. Risky considering you were a married woman with a husband who dropped by with no warning, on a whim, at random times and was gone before you knew it on yet another business trip. But maybe that's where Lupin derived thrill. Yes, you figure that he wouldn't be having nearly as much fun fucking you if you weren't married. Like eating forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden, you figured. You can't exactly be angry at him for that--as a married woman, you find it thrilling to be with someone else entirely. Even if that someone happens to be a notorious thief guilty of most, if not all of the charges against him. 

        The idea of getting caught, of getting away with it, of risk--that's the grand prize of this all. 

        That and Lupin actually makes you finish. 

        And to his credit, most of the time he stays afterwards. Like he actually enjoys your company. Maybe he just likes it when women purposefully want to cling to him and be near him. You for one, just are relieved to have another warm body in bed with you. Another night sleeping alone would have you feeling like a damned widow. Lupin's frequent night time visits seem to remedy that. 

        There's one night where you let out a soft sigh, cheek pressed into his coarsely haired chest. It's a pleasurable itch across your skin as your eyes fall half shut. Your hand rested upon his abdomen, fingers arching slightly. A satisfied groan leaves him as he stretches his arms back behind his head with a bit of a smug grin.

        “We can’t do this forever, y’know,” you eventually said, voice soft.

        The thought's been on your mind for a long time. It'd started out small, this seed of fear and doubt deep in you. You'd planted it yourself. But over time, it'd grown more and more. With every forbidden, treacherous kiss, it became more obvious to you. Harder to ignore. That this would all undoubtedly come to an end soon--all the sneaking around, the adultery, the luxuries and love-bites you had to hide when your husband did come home. All of it couldn't last.

        That's what's wrong with this. 

        It's unsustainable, being together like this. 

        It'll all fall apart around me. 

        Lupin's obviously oblivious to your rather depressing train of thought. Still, you can't imagine how anything similar to your thoughts haven't crossed his own mind yet. Maybe he just wasn't an overthinker in the same way you were. That's why you like him. He's carefree, aloof, at ease, like there's nothing wrong at all. He's not afraid. And maybe you envy him a little because of that.

        “‘Course we can, why wouldn’t we, baby?” Lupin asked. 

        One of his arms dropped and you felt his fingers stroke slowly through your hair. He pinches some of it between his index and thumb, rubbing it between them. A shiver travels through your body--he feels it against his and smiles. But your silence dulls the smile considerably and quickly. 

        Suddenly, he spoke again, apparently realizing what your vague comment was in reference to. Of course. The pesky little husband off in...where was it again? Taiwan this time? “I could make him disappear, I bet.” He gave a bit of a chuckle as you vigorously shook your head.

        You don't doubt that he's capable of doing so. Although your meetings with him are erratic and usually consist of near hours of foreplay before fucking like there's no tomorrow, there's times where you've been able to sit down with him and just...coexist. Just be with him. From what he's told you, you're well aware he has one of--no--the best gunman probably in the whole hemisphere working for him. 

        “No, no, that’s...too much. He hasn’t done anything wrong it’s just...it’s just me, I guess.” 

        “Then what about you?” he asked. You only had a moment to be confused before you felt his fingers at your chin, tilting your head up so you could look at him. “What if I made you disappear? What if I stole you away?”

        You were breathless. “You can’t.” Your voice felt like it was little more than a whisper.

        “Oh, but I can! I’m the greatest thief in the world, remember? I can steal anything I want!” He suddenly kisses the tip of your nose, and then your cheek, and then the corner of your lips, along your jaw, to your lips once more in quick succession. You couldn’t help but giggle and squirm slightly as he peppered your skin with gentle kisses. You squeaked as you felt him nip the side of your neck. Lupin pulled you closer, tighter, his breath hot against your skin.

        “Come onnn, baby. Let me take you away from here.”

        “I’m not suited to be on the run,” you say still unable to regain your breath. Your heart is racing. 

        “You don’t have to be, darling. I’ll take you somewhere far away from here, with me, and I’ll set you up with a cute little apartment and I’ll come see you all the time!”

        “I’ll be a distraction.” 

        You don't know why you're suddenly making excuses when he's giving you a ticket out. Even if its as a missing person. Maybe this all just feels too good to be true, like a dream you'll wake up from any moment. Because this is the shit unhappy girls dream about right? Some handsome, suave thief coming to steal them away during the night? 

        Maybe not every unhappy girl, but definitely you. 

        Lupin shook his head. “Babe. Life's a buncha of distractions, y'know.” Eventually, Lupin brings your hand to his lips, looking down at you with soft brown eyes. “You’re nervous, I get that. Change is scary. But what else is there for you? This dead-end marriage? You’ve got the chance to have some real fun. With me. Nothing will be the same, but that'll be the fun of it all. You won’t ever be bored, I can promise you that. You won’t ever have to sit there dawn to dusk wondering if this is all you’ll ever have left. You don't want to get old here of all places do you?”

        You’re silent for a moment, genuinely contemplating his words before you begin to laugh. He arches a brow. Normally, Lupin loved making you laugh. It's nice to see a smile on your face, especially when your default seems to be a lost, tired look in your eyes paired with a frown. You're prettier smiling, he's decided, when he sees your eyes light up. And lord knows how Lupin likes his pretty women. 

        “Wow. All that for a little one night stand?” You ask, thoroughly entertained with his little monologue. 

        “Awww, (Y/N), sweetie, don’t be like that,” Lupin whines, a bit of a frustrated pout appearing on his face. Then came his usual smirk. "You're more like an insert unspecified number here night stand to me. Have you been counting? I haven't, sorta lost track over the months-" 

        You smacked his shoulder and rolled over quickly, faking mock anger with a huffy "Lupin!" 

        He reads you well enough to know you're not actually angry with him. Lupin's arm curled back around you once more, drawing you close to him. His chin brushes over your shoulder as he began to nip lightly at your neck and ear, sending electric little shivers throughout your body. Sparks. That's what you'd call this feeling. 

        "Come onn...you know you want me to steal you...come on come on come on come on-"

        His specialty is being annoying on purpose. Still, you couldn't help but smile as his lips brushed over the corner of your mouth. You shrug away for the sake of making him work for it. You're well aware that playing a little hard to get really gets Lupin going. 

        "I thought you only steal valuables," you said, giving him an exasperated glance through half lidded eyes. 

        You can feel his lips pull into a smirk against your skin. "Mhm. I do. You're like jewels I can fu-" 

        Lightly, you elbowed him in the stomach before he could finish, cutting him off as your face began to burn and the usual blush spread across your cheeks. It's random things from him that get you like this. You never see it coming. Why'd you even tease him in the first place? He can always finish what you've started--he's proved that to you numerous times without fail. 

        Eventually, as his arms settle back around you, you turn to face him. 

        "I'll...think about it, okay?" You said, voice soft. 

        Lupin's lips finally met yours, unusually lightly. His chin came to rest in the crook of your neck. 

        "Don't think too hard about it. You're too pretty to be all...stressed out, y'know?" 

        You nod lightly, feeling much too drowsy to actually respond. He makes you feel safe...it feels right, being with him like this. You can't exactly blame yourself for falling asleep so quickly, wrapped in his arms. He'd gone a good few rounds with you, spanning at least a few hours--probably the longest, most intense session you've had with him yet. And still, you figure it'll only get better from here. There's no downhill with Lupin. It feels like it's only up. 

        But just like usual, even though you fell asleep tight in his arms...

        You wake up alone.

        A soft sigh leaves you as you wrap your own arms around yourself, trying to replicate his own.

        It's not the same. It never is. 

        You wonder if it's sad, maybe a scooch pathetic, that he's the first thing you think of when you awaken. After a few moments, laying alone, face pressed almost mournfully into the sheets, you stretch and sit up. Clutching the sheets to your chest, you looked over and out of the open window through bleary eyes as the early dawn breeze wound through your hair. 

        It almost felt like Lupin left the window open on purpose. Like he was trying to beckon you out of this place. Like he was showing you just how easy it would be to leave with him. Just a window away. 

        What do I have to lose?

        Surprisingly, Lupin left you alone for almost a week. 

        You hadn't realized then that he wouldn't be coming back for that long. For the first few days, you'd grown worried and started reading the piled up newspapers at the front door. Or you'd tune into the news channels, flipping through them anxiously, in case there was any word of the police finally apprehending him. Lupin speaks of a particular inspector often to you, with a sort of fondness you find strange. How could one be so attached to someone whose life goal was putting them in prison? Only Lupin knows. 

        However, there was ultimately nothing to be found. It all seemed like he was just making you go cold turkey without him. Maybe like he's trying to show you what it would be like if you didn't come with him. It felt...manipulative but you doubt that's his actual intention. Lupin's cunning and knows how to play his cards right and pull strings, but you didn't think he'd ever do it to hurt you or force you to do something you didn't want to do. It came off more like Lupin was just trying to give you space to think properly. For once, he wasn't going to cheat or push into getting the answer he wanted. Or to get something he wanted, that something being you. 

        Part of you almost wished he had just made the decision for you. That he'd just swept you away from this fucking cold, empty house without even giving you the chance to think twice. But you know that'd be wrong and unfair to you. And you figure he knows that as well. 

        The week without him felt strange and empty and like it wasn't real at all. Like time was standing still. It reminds you all too clearly of the period of time after your wedding, after the honeymoon, when your husband had resumed his frequent business trips and left you all alone here. You hate remembering the feeling. You hate living without Lupin.

        It's the answer you needed. 

        And ultimately, you were grateful that Lupin had skipped out on his little late night visits for that week, considering that your oh so beloved husband had returned unexpectedly. You'd known it was him, because he'd come in through the front door. Lupin much prefers your bedroom window. He's fun like that. 

        Your husband, on the other hand, doesn't even cast a glance in your direction. 

        You slept in a guest room that night. You'd planned to use "not feeling well" as an excuse to do so, but he didn't question you about it in the first place, so you figured it was unneeded. He just didn't care. His indifference makes you bitter, like it always does. 

        Lupin would be sneaking into this bed right now. Or he'd be dragging me into his. He wouldn't just...just let me leave so easy. He'd actually try.

        Lupin this and Lupin that, are you becoming obsessive? Funny how you don't realize what you have until it's disappeared for most of the week. 

        To your relief, your husband was only back for a measly two days before leaving once more on yet another business trip. You doubted he even unpacked his suitcase when he'd arrived before. There was no hug or kiss or bidding goodbye. Just a note in the kitchen. His flight had left early that morning. 

        That night, you found yourself resting your arms upon the windowsill. The breeze chills your fingertips as you breathe in deeply. 

        "You look pretty like that, y'know. The moonlight hits your face juuuust right." 

        At the sound of his voice, you smile. God how you've missed him. You glanced over in the direction of his voice, leaning further out the window so you could see him entirely. As usual, Lupin was standing on the roof. He had his hands up, palms facing you, his long fingers angled like he was framing you for a photo. 

        You can't think of anything to say. Just his name.

        "Lupin..." soft on your lips. 

        He grins, tucking his hands in his pockets as he comes closer to the window. He crouches in front of you, one of his hands grabbing yours. "You been waiting for me?" 

        You nodded. "Feels more like you've been waiting on me, Lupin." 

        He shrugged. "Eh, I kept myself busy this week. Wanted to give you time to yourself. Y'know, no interference..." A more serious look appears on his face. "It's a big decision and it'd be...it'd be wrong to not play fair this time."          "Awww," you coo. "You suddenly grew a conscience this week? Just for me?" 

        His sudden solemness had made you uncomfortable and reminded you all too much of the stone-like expression of your husband. Hopefully, your teasing would get him to loosen up a little bit...

        His eyebrows raise, with mock offense. "Hey! I have a conscience!" 

        You laughed. It's funny to get him worked up, even if he's faking it. Lupin's hand tightens around yours suddenly. He casts a glance downwards. Yours follows and you suddenly notice the car pulled into the driveway. You'd been so lost in the night sky earlier that you hadn't even noticed it pull in. 

        "Jigen's got the car started already..." Lupin told you, voice growing a bit quieter. His other hand reached out for you to take, as if he wasn't currently gripping your other hand already. 

        You cock your head to the side, trying to ignore the gravity of it all. You're actually doing this. Holy shit. You're actually doing this...

        "Oh, I'm sure he's very pleased to be dragged into all of this." 

        Lupin shrugs with his usual smile. "It's not the first time he's gotten "dragged" into my affairs. Guess he'll just have to get used to it." 

        Finally, you reached to take his hand. At the last moment, for your own amusement, you faked him out, quickly pulling your hand away. His fingers closed around nothing and he let out an extremely overdramatic gasp of shock. Then, a mischievous look crossed over his face. Lupin lunged forwards, wrestling you in order to grab your hand. Once he managed to get ahold of it, he brought it close to his face, pressing a mocking kiss to the back of it as he looked up at you. He brings out an almost childish side of you--which inspires you to stick your tongue out at him, pulling a face. 

        "Ewwwww-" your whine cuts off with a gasp as Lupin suddenly pulled you out of the window and into his arms with practiced ease. 

        "Ewwwww," he mocked, pulling a face similar to yours.

        He stands up fully, arms wrapping around you tighter so his chest presses to yours. His lips push up against yours and you figured that if you'd let him, he'd have found a way to go beyond just a kiss and have you naked on your own roof. The thought of it is tempting before you remember that there's another man waiting in a car below. 

        With ease, Lupin suddenly sweeps your legs out from underneath you. Quickly, your arms wrap around him, like second nature. His own excitement is obvious as he quickly and easily maneuvers down the sloped roof. It almost was like you were weightless to him. You don't fear for your safety in his arms. Not for one second. Even as he jumps down into the car below, you trust him entirely. Still, you gasped lightly as you bounced in his lap. 

        The man driving seemed like he really didn't want to be there. You guessed that this was the "Jigen" Lupin had spoken of now and then. From what you've heard, he's not one to be fucked with. 

        The last of a giggle fading from you, you cleared your throat. 

        "Hi, uhm...Jigen, isn't it?" You asked, a bit sheepishly. 

        The man gives you a sideways glance, tipping his hat with a slight nod. "Yeah." And then he was back to smoking his cigarette. 

        Instantly, Lupin goes to ruin the mood. Still, it was a welcome distraction from the awkwardness of interacting with his rather stone-faced, gruff best friend. How they were working together with how different they were was a question you'd have to save for another time. Particularly one where Lupin wasn't pressing kisses all over your face to the point where it was overwhelming--taking your breath away. 

        "Step on it!" Lupin orders between kisses.

        As the night wind begins to blow through your hair, you didn't look back. 

        You told yourself you'd never look back. 

[deafsignifcantother]

When he's more gentle (nsfw)

♥ relationships: Valentino x extremely religious, deaf female reader

♥ word count: 2.5k

♥ warnings: he's still vaguely aggressive, lots of god talk, probably not ‘lore’ accurate, reader is mentioned being a drug snorter, lots of religious talk, oral both ways, consensual!, use of the word daddy

♥ VAL IS IN LOVE OKAY!!!

It's similar to a bullet wound, to you, anyway. It's an urge that sucks the energy from your cells like a virus ravaging your solemn mind like a mad dog. It's a question of control and vice. What God-loving person would fall for temptation - letting it drag you under like quicksand? Seeing him like this has your rosary calling out to you. The beads keep memories of your blasphemy, for the helpless look in your eyes whenever he used to grab your face with inhumane aggression. Back then, you get dressed in the morning; his room is dark, and the light that peaks under his door illuminates your ankles. The glow reveals only your wrists when you slide your underwear up. He watches with unprincipled eyes.

So maybe you are not as holy as you once intended. Your body is God's temple, and yet you still indulge in things like the buzz gifted by snorting goods he passes to you: abundant and frequent debauchery. When he first kissed you, that caused you to flinch. More recently, you snort ardently; this is what it means to give in to temptation. The longer you stay here in Hell, the farther you stray from understanding the words of God. You put your entire soul into forgiving God for putting you down here.

Oh, how the Book of Leviticus reads clearly in your head whenever you move down his body.

"Are you fine?" You sign, hovering over his horizontal body. His breathing quickens, and his smile grows. Why are you asking such a thing? His eyes, hooking around the band of his pants, fall to your fingers. At the silent stare, you pull away, but as soon as you do, he props himself up on his elbow.

"Yes," he says, signing with one hand. "Touch me, baby."

And then later, after your mouth makes him cum, he sits up. "Sin is such a fascinating concept," he says before busying his hand with his long whatever the fuck he smokes out of.

Sex is something he hasn't shared with you at this point. The reason is your mental blockage - in terms of how damned can I get, you've already made it. He's offered his mouth just as much as you have, and his body is no stranger to your hands. Something is worrying, no - not worrying - condemning about committing religious treason. Every touch strikes you with anxiety.

ღ

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him - the kiss is short. He prefers running his tongue over your body to kissing.

The two of you stand close in his room, his body free from his belt from your doing, his shoulders squared with tension. His black button-up is tight around his biceps but loose around his waist where you've unbuttoned it. It isn't until you press your kisses into his chest, buttering up his senses, that he grabs onto you and practically throws you on the bed; you scoot to where your head can rest on the pillow before he can trap you under him. He smiles when you jump at his sudden hands on your pants. He wriggles your pants off while your eyes wander the room, nervously avoiding his hungry stare. With his hands continuing to unbutton your shirt, he takes an uncharacteristic gentle initiative and pulls off your shirt. He focuses on the now calm look on your face.

It's like redemption, dragging you deeper into the fire. His fingers sculpt your chest, grabbing every inch of the skin leading from your collarbones to your pelvis. He suddenly holds onto your wrist and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. He's hard - you can feel it under you. The only thing interrupting the contact of your bottom halves is both of your underwear. A moment passes where you both acknowledge this, the slow flutter of your hips making his lips part before he matches your movements in a slow rocking. Slow. While being with you, he's found a fascination with slowness. He initially hated the teasing until he realized that you were teasing yourself. 

I want more, he thinks. Don't make me take it.

His initiative is what you were waiting for. He leans up and takes his underwear off. You can hardly get a look at him before he grabs your band and pulls your underwear down to your thighs. You lift your legs, taking them off. In the light, your cheeks glow red. It's embarrassing - shameful, your body being revealed to him. 

His big hands grip above your knees, nails digging into your skin when he grabs his dick and puts it against your stomach. His mouth waters in hunger, and with anticipation, his stomach tightens. He pumps his dick while staring at your chest, his knuckles grazing the skin of your stomach every time he moves his hands. You can feel him, warm and thickened, pleasuring himself to your body. Your eyes stay locked to him, his hurried breaths. Is he moaning, you wonder?

You look down at him and see yourself in the third person, and it makes him slow down when he watches you seemingly analyzing him. 

Is this what God intended for you? You watch him mutter to himself. The squeeze of your thighs gets his attention back into the moment.

"Sign." You say.

"You're not thinking about my dick." He signs with one hand, the other pushing his cock against your stomach.

"Romans," you fingerspell the name with a sly smile. "Chapter 8, verse 31." Your following words comes out as PSE, neither ASL nor SEE:

"What, then, shall we say in response to those things? If God is for us, who can be against us?" The us you use is two-of-us. All he can do is nod, smiling devilishly. He lifts you off and stands from the bed, back facing you, naked and confident. You see his scarred back when he walks towards the light switch; two switches are lighting up his room. He flicks one off, and you try to get his attention, but he ignores you when you snap your fingers. As bare as the first humans, he stands in front of the switches, his chest facing you now, eyes finally meeting yours.

"I will show you God tonight."

The last source of light diminishes into nothing. In the darkness were deprivation and depravity. There's no sign of him. Only the beating of your heart, the vibration in your body - can he feel those vibrations too? He leans into the bed, and that's the only signal you get before he pulls both of your ankles. He drags you further down, parting your legs and kissing down your stomach, hardly giving you the time to process what is happening. He hardly gives you the time to breathe. You buck against him, pussy warm and hard against his collarbones. The underneath of his long tongue drags down your chest to your pelvis. When his lips abruptly and finally make contact with your clit you can feel his hums. His tongue shyly runs up you repeatedly, the pressure he sucks at only getting harder. It hurts just a bit and you whine in response. But the urge to force his head against you grows alongside the desire to claw his skin. Your mouth opens. His actions put a prominent feeling in your lower stomach - the sensation is constant in a way that isn't there when you touch yourself. Without even realizing it, your pelvis continues to lift off the bed, and his tongue starts fucking you at a steady pace.

All his noises get communicated to you through the rumble they cause. You can feel small sounds escape you, hoping they are beautiful, they are sounds that only motivate him more. He pulls away, hands on either side of you. He shifts, and you close your eyes, trying to comprehend his actions. He's stretched out, reaching for something. When he returns to his original position, there's a pause in his action, pregnant idleness.

You can feel him put your legs on his shoulders before sliding two fingers inside of you. You relax your muscles to let him in but find it feels better when squeezing him, the knuckles in his fingers massaging your hole. He stops, going to pull out, ready to fuck you, but you grab his wrist and slam in his fingers. His following movements become more aggressive, adding a finger and stretching you more, the forgotten sting not lasting more than a few seconds. Before you even try to touch yourself, he beats you to it and presses his spare hand to your clit, rubbing slower than his fingers thrust. Your juices reach his palm, which he feels dripping, using it as more lubricant. Iniquitous pleasure beats through the veins in your body, traveling down to your toes, the feeling overwhelming and perfectly intense. It's the first time he's done it for this long: his fingers keep twisting as he fishes around inside you, the unknown terrain, making you squirm from under him. You writhe into him, tilting your pelvis to help him angle better. The moment soon ends, and he pulls away once again, leaving your heart beating between your ears and the muscles in your thighs twitching.

You sign his name into his skin with your hands on his working biceps. He can't tell if you're begging or pleading. Without facial expressions, he is at a loss about your intentions. In a possessive gesture, he presses his body to yours to kiss your neck. You grab his hips and hold him still while desperately trying to grind yourself against him. Ah, he realizes, begging. The sound he sings into your neck is low and extended, making you smile. Heated skin caresses yours - both pure and titillating. He brings his groin against you, his tip just approaching your open pussy. He holds you tight when your hands take control and force him into you. He feels you pulse around his dick until he pushes himself fully in, your muscles allowing him in, finding it easier to fit himself in than he assumed. Perhaps you were made for him - crafted by God - or his body was shaped for you. Was he your gift? Are you the righteous one, a vessel for all things pleasure? He will bestow on you this gift of ecstasy - the Gates of Heaven opening to shed light upon you.

The rocking of his hips is slow at first. His whole body moves, and your hands rest on his biceps, moving in tune. He lets his pelvis carry more of a sway than the rest of him, fucking you in a slow, circular motion, trying to get used to your warmth - your tight grip. He loves the feeling of you. Every time he pushes in, the tightness rolling down his shaft ignites his nerves in prickles or lightning under his skin. He's grateful you can't pick up on the egotistically pathetic moans. The stimulation is mind-changing; he understands why it is poignant because if you were anyone else, he would give in to this aggressive and deadly lust. The sounds of your quick breaths and small moans urge him on, as well as the small yes you sign against his arm. When he quickens, it's not on purpose - he only notices when his body gets so overwhelmed that he hunches over your body. With your hips getting sore and his body tilted down into you, he is more profound than he could have ever imagined being this early in the activity.

Just like that, he stays in that looming position, letting the bottom of his shaft push in and out of you, keeping himself buried inside of you.

Your fingers land on his chest, on each pec, where you sign. "Faster, please," and moving your hand to his forehead, "Daddy." You wonder if he can feel the pleasure-filled tremble in your hands. Feeling him burrowed so immeasurably inside of you makes it hard to focus on anything else. His poundings became more hungry; the way he fucks you becomes ferocious. He likes it like this. This way, he can feel each time you squeeze down on him, and it'll put pressure on his entire prick - leaving no inch of him unstimulated.

He wants you to feel the same. He slows, sitting with his weight evenly distributed between his knees before taking both of his hands and gripping onto your ass, scooting you both closer to press your back into the headboard. He fucks you vertically, using his hand to fuck you while bouncing you up and down without restraint. He stimulates to varying speeds as your thighs crash against his. You bite into your knuckle, feeling the heat rising in your body, the rapture covering every inch of your skin, palpable and sticking to his, too. It overwhelms your senses, so you can't tell whether your eyes are closed or open. Your clit starts to pulsate; he lets you use a free hand to try and rub yourself.

Even as your muscles squeeze him, he doesn't relent. The incredible feeling of his length drilling into you makes your legs quiver.

He can hear your sounds - the desperate whines - sounds you don't even realize you're making. You can hardly even keep your eyes open.

It wasn't long before dropped you onto him constantly, bottoming out into you rougher, and the thought of cumming inside of you ignited his motivation to release. As he cums, with how tight your pussy is squeezing him, it feels as if you're trying to hold him inside you as he does. Beyond the erotic-ness of it, it's a bit enlightening. He gets to become one with the person that he loves: a part of him will be inside you, maybe even eventually breeding you.

He gives you a few more thrusts before the passion becomes overwhelming. He pulls out, the darkness suddenly disabling and not lecherous. 

He does something unique; he lifts you and lays you down on the bed gently, letting you rest before he presses his tongue against you again, putting his head right where it belongs. He sucks on your clit in just the way you love. He even moves his tongue, getting a taste of his seed before using it, as well as his saliva, to keep you stimulated. You can feel yourself pulsating, perking into his mouth and against the wet pink muscle between his teeth. He hums against you in a silent laugh. It doesn't take long for you to cum, the feeling is already building up, and when he tries to keep going, you start to kick your legs and push him off by the shoulders. 

"Kitten," he signs against your cheek. His hands are slick with your juices. You can feel it spread against your face and smell it closely. You let out a shaky breath.

It's entertaining to watch him interact with other demons. It's as if you both shared a secret of his softness. He abuses people the same way he would have before, and you watch from the distance when they glance at you, wondering if they can tell that you receive special treatment that they'll never get.