#you gorgeous abomination you
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Leshy from cult of the lamb, my beloved...
#cult of the lamb#cotl leshy#cotl#hes my fav actually#weird creature...thing#let me hug you#let me kiss you#you gorgeous abomination you
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davrin and rye ingellvar's dynamic continues to be unmatched. davrin invites rook along on the training trip with assan in arlathan forest as a sort of extended hand of peace because they've been getting off on the wrong foot a little bit (rook is gamely like HELL YEAH sounds fun! :) while sweating nervously), and then davrin spends the whole walk squinting at rook -- prancing around in his fancy little mourn watch silk robes getting caught on thorns, gawking at common plants and critters like he's never seen them before, stumbling over roots and laughing awkwardly about it even though davrin hasn't even said anything -- like 'who the fuck is this weird indoor kid, how have they survived this long, and more importantly why are we trusting them to save the world'. all while rook is going 'goddd I'm looking so dumb in front of the cool kid and he already questions every second thing I say or do this sucks'. but. they are both trying, and will keep trying. and this is what matters
#(rye is a they/he situation for clarity)#where lucanis and bellara were cases of unexpectedly finding yourself having a lot in common with someone#rye and davrin are almost diametrically opposed personalities and it's so funny#completely confounded by each other's world views and instincts having such a hard time gauging each other's intentions#bafflement and exasperation along the '...why are you like this' lines even as they keep it professional#'can you just be serious for a moment' '(annoyed and pretending not to be) hm. will you pay me to be. otherwise probably not#it's hard work. (maybe if you started acting like you WOULD take me seriously huh)'#it's going to be SO good when they finally start to get each other and get along haha#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#davrin#oc: Ellaryen Ingellvar#it's probably not helped by davrin's (very understandable) 'wait you're just letting a possessed master assassin have the run of the place'#while lucanis is nakedly rye's favourite lol. like okay you're passive aggressively tetchy with me and pretending you're not#but the abomination serial killer gets the silk gloves and 'oh dear. oh dear. gorgeous' gentle kisses on the hair???#I can see how that might gall a bit fhdkjsfhsa#('I don't have favourites!' protests local watcher currently trying to shield lucanis dellamorte with their body and soul)#rye was a bit of a wild teenager tho so I think he connects with davrin and assan's stiuation that way and can lend some insight#in that dynamic. and also starts to have some very deep sympathy for the adults in their life at the time eventually b/c oh my GOD
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Sit Down
anniversary event [closed]
kim mingyu x reader
prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”
word count: 5.1k
warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you
synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.
It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.
And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.
[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!
masterlist
The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl.
It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against.
Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel.
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you.
Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek.
“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel.
All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today.
“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight.
“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?”
“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”
You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day.
“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”
There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job?
Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu.
Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”
You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow.
Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse.
Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers.
“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands.
“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion.
Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?”
“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”
“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet.
“How was Mingyu?”
Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now.
“He was fine.”
“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”
That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher.
“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment.
“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare.
Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”
“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”
Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion.
You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either.
With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention.
You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise.
Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on.
Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you.
[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?
[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((
[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh
[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333
God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him.
Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine.
You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send.
It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer.
He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators.
“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same.
Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait.
The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow.
What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day.
You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire.
“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave.
“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him.
“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning.
“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?”
“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were.
Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance.
You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open.
The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day.
It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting.
“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love.
Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels.
“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”
“Sit down.”
He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command.
It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.
Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint.
He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again.
“What are you—”
“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.”
The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with.
“Right now? Can you at least let me—”
Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse.
His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless.
Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.
That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss.
Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more.
You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.
Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him.
“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly.
It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt.
“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”
Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe.
Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in.
Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions.
“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.
“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”
“What on earth–shit!”
You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly.
The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips.
Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again.
In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing.
When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth.
He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before.
Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself.
“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.”
Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.
In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”
“What?”
“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”
“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words.
In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants.
Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds.
“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”
He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt.
Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now.
Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you.
Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.
“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”
The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.
The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen.
“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”
And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead.
His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly.
“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”
Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.
Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close.
Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you.
He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks.
“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog.
Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs.
It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.
“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”
Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago.
“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”
“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”
You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”
He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”
It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway.
“Salad bowl girl.”
“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”
“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”
“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”
“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you.
You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry—”
“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”
“So you didn’t like it?”
“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”
“Won what?”
“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.”
You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”
He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.”
Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio.
“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”
Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him.
Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic.
“Oh, you’re evil.”
You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back.
He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”
“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.”
“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes.
You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”
“Are you not having fun?”
“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”
Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”
It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works.
“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”
The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.
“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”
“Go,” you chuckle.
“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.
“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”
“I love you,” he yells.
“I’ll be sure to tell our child.”
“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling.
“Mingyu!”
“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him.
“I thought I was insufferable.”
Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you.
“I think we’re late for our reservation.”
“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.
“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.
A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week.
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Gorgeous.
#have fun in superhell andrew tate
#brown and ugly#gorgeous russian/ukrainian/european white blondes#thank you greta thunberg for taking once again the trash out#have a merry new year's eve in jail andrew tate#andrew tate fucked up big time#i'm glad this came right after his conversion#like if i see one more idiot talking about how fantatic it is that he saw the light and became muslim#i'm muslim too by the way and i don't want this asshat to represent me or even represent white converts or serve as an example#for muslim-raised young boys/men and young converts#no this man and his brother are an eldritch abomination#like i literally don't even know how bad he is aside from the 01 or 02 articles i read but he has so much bad publicity and shitty takes#that i unfortunately came to know about his existence as a non-tiktok account owner#and the worst part is that moroccan facebook is having a disgusting renaissance era for red pill and asshat bullshitters like him#because goddamn tiktok became widespread#like literally this bitch and his likeness are ruining whatever scraps of gender equality the pioneer feminists fought for in the 70s-80s#and now i see people discussing shitty ideas that not only happen to be very misogynistic and sexist but also NOT part of our original#culture aside from the horrible rampant racism that some disgusting incels show against us moroccan women for being#unlike those#i don't like where this shit is going#some ex-rapper clown has also started a movement against marrying working women lmao#the best part is that he was married to a teacher who financially supported his broke ass for years#anti-andrew tate#anti-red pill#anti-misogyny
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#you don’t understand my obsession with this photoshoot#january me was DOWN ABOMINABLE#the pics from this photoshoot was everywhere on my wall#THE FACE CARD IS INSANE#mark in black hair is actually lethal#he’s so gorgeous i will eat him# 💭 𓂃 ( ariacore )
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I find it kinda funny the way you react differently with Boothill and Sunday in terms of writing but they both hold the same flavor of “I want him carnally.” Keep up the wonderful work
PLEASE they’re so different it’s hilarious. gross loser with a cowboy hat that’s terrible at hiding his feelings and another gross loser with angel wings who’s slightly better at hiding his feelings but only because that’s what expected of him.
i could actually yap about them for hours…
cyborg abomination, last washed (can he bathe?) 58269652 days ago, scuffed boots but keeps them spurs polished, definitely chews hay, swallows bullets and can catch a fired one between his teeth with zero effort because his teeth are fake, probably jumps in mud puddles if given the opportunity (not like a child, but more like if he’s walking he’ll stamp in it, because he can)
versus
last washed one hour ago and smells purely of dove soap and an orchard on a rainy day, actively watches for his appearance, obsessed with organisation and order, and also actively avoids mud puddles.
but at the same time by the gods if they both don’t fret over your appearance. sunday’s more formal in the matter; he likes to dress you up if given the opportunity. fancy dinners, and he’s already organised your outfit down to the core. he likes to see you presentable, but there’s also something so raw and gorgeous about how horrible you look when you wake up (he’s swooning despite his straight face. if you’re not already jealous of his flawless he looks in the morning, that is).
sunday also absolutely loves when you keep him company in the office, even if you’re a total distraction. it’s not even your fault either. you could be doing something else entirely in the corner on a couch and his eyes will wander. don’t sit in his lap because then he’ll be a lost cause entirely.
boothill will doll you up too, don’t get me wrong, but it’s more of a “hey i bought you this and you’d probably look hot in it” and he’s always right. you’re more fretting over his appearance than anything—he doesn’t mind.
brush his hair all you want. if you wanna braid his hair, go for it. he’ll keep it like that for the rest of time if he could. his hair isn’t exactly real, nor does it grow, so it doesn’t really need to be washed, and the strands are effortlessly silky. he’ll let you do anything to him, it’s that bad. he’d probably let you push him off a cliff. and yes, you can use his little ports to charge your phone, even if he whines every time about it.
the white hair is natural, by the way. definitely had very very dark brown hair that his fathers loved to take care of, and then when he lost his daughter, it was a case of marie antoinette syndrome (whether it exists is debatable, but for my mind’s sake, yes).
#boothill x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#boothill hsr#sunday x you#sunday hsr#sunday x reader#✦ ( love mail. )#✦ ( anon. )#✦ ( rambles. )
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Yandere High Cloud Quintet x Male Reader Headcanons
Cw: Stalking, Manipulation, Abuse, Blood, Daggers, sadism, unhealthy obsession, 18+ shit/topics.
Characters: Jingliu, Jing yuan, Dan Feng/Heng, Blade/Yangxinq, Baiheng. (Separate and Together)
———
Jingliu
Jingliu is a very gentle lover, sure she’s a little (massively) possessive of you, but it’s fine. She teaches you swords fighting, she protects you from any threats, and she’s a joy to be around with the quintet.
You relationship started like any other cliche love story. She saw you walking around aimlessly and feel in love. To her, you were beautiful. In fact, she was convinced you were idrilia or at the least her descendent.
So, she watched (stalked) you. For a LONG time. Watching as you walk around without purpose, as others glare jealously at you, as others OGLE at you.
It disgusted her, to see others practically drool or even dare to face you. Her eyes twitching involuntarily, her pupils shrinking in size, looking like a rabid animal.
So, using her skills as a seasoned warrior, she leads those people into very dangerous territory. Watching as the abominations of the abundance tear them to shreds.
She then accidentally bumps into you, and that’s how your relationship started. You know, the normal cliche romance novel beginnings. (Call me crazy….but I don’t think she bumped into you accidentally..I think she did that shit on PURPOSE)
Jingliu only feels comfortable allowing the quintet to touch/look at you. To her, it’s another win over them, she got the best looking person the entire xianzhou will ever have.
But then, when we got Mara-struck. Things changed. HORRIFICALLY.
Mara-Struck jingliu doesn’t bother to hide her obsession for you. Before she escapes the luofu, she steals you away, even breaking your legs so you couldn’t resist.
But don’t worry, she didn’t break them to the point you won’t heal from it. You will, you HAVE to. Your beauty simply couldn’t allow such a disgusting thing to exist to your body.
She cuffs you and ties your legs together, making sure you couldn’t resist any of her loving gestures. A kiss here, a cut there, a slap here, a gut punch there.
Looking down at your bloody and bruised body below her, she can’t help but smile. Your tears and blood making your skin glow beautifully, making her weak in the knees.
She dips down and grabs your chin, harshly lifting your head up to face her as she leaned in to lick your tears.
Jingliu: Your so fucking beautiful~
Her voice trembles as she kisses you, forcing her tongue deep down your throat. Forming a small icy dagger to draw more blood from your angelic body.
Jingliu: Mmm~ All bloody and bruised for me—BY. ME. You have no idea what you do to me~~!
She moaned out, cutting open another wound into your body. Feeling euphoric as she hears you sing your beautiful screams of pain—Pleasure
Jingliu: You did this too me~ YOUR the reason I’m Mara-struck! It’s your fault for being so FUCKING gorgeous~! For that.. YOU. OWE ME YOUR LOVE. YOUR VERY EXISTENCE ITSELF~~!
10/10. A terrifying yandere.
Sadistic, Impulsive, Delusional, Possessive, Obsessive and Clingy Yandere.
Baiheng
(I know she isn’t meant to have the horns but I couldn’t find a better picture)
Unlike jingliu (and pretty much everyone here) bai heng could never have the heart to physically harm you.
No no no, such an atrocious act like that never crossed her mind. How could she ever harm your delicate body?
Baiheng would much more comfortably gaslight—Manipulate—would much more comfortably win you over with her humor.. and alcohol.
She’s generally good at hiding her obsessive tendencies from you, besides being extremely clingy. If she doesn’t have a hand wrapped around you she feels like she’s loosing her mind.
Baiheng would take you on expeditions to other planets, protecting you, tasting different types of alcohol, showing you off.
She lets you do her hair and groom her tail, and touch her ears. She also keeps her tail wrapped around your waist.
Baiheng would manipulate you into believing and only being completely reliant on her and her only. Your family? Leave em’ they’re holding you back. They wouldn’t accept your relationship with her.
Your friends? She’s the only person you can trust, those others are trying to steal you away from HER! Why have such boring friends when you can hang with her and the quintet?
Your job? Quit. You don’t need money or anything like that. She has your back, she’ll simply TAKE money from others and support you like that.
Baiheng is an emotional and mental manipulator and isolationist with a ‘healthy’ dose of controlling—Type of yandere.
One thing your don’t have to worry about is physical abuse. She’d never harm your body in any way.. that and she fucking dies.
Also she’d probably give you a pet name that has something to do with alcohol or stars/trailblazing
Bai Heng: My dear~! I brought alcohol from another planet! Come taste it with me and the quintet!
Bai Heng: Come my star, your family isn’t important. IM the only person who’ll treat you right~ I have money, a high status, a ship that can travel to different planets~
Bai Heng’s tail hugs your waist and her hands cup your face, pepper kissing your face to no end, only finding your embarrassed face adorable and using it as motivation to continue.
2/10, probably the best yandere here to have obsess over you.
A Manipulative, Isolating, Possessive yandere.

Jing Yuan
He is also a relatively relaxed yandere. He doesn’t even have to try hard to get others to leave you alone.
Similar to bai heng, jing yuan would never physically harm you. He’s much more comfortable manipulating you.
Also similar to BaiHeng, he’d isolate you and forge your mind to be utterly and even pathetically reliable on him.
Using his status as general of the luofu, he’d forge some fraudulent evidence on your friends and family, having them arrested and even humiliated in public.
Then he swoops in again, and lifts you and your family up. He offers you reassurance, he suddenly finds the TRUE criminals, he punishes those who verbally assaulted you and your people.
Jing yuan still wishes to have your family’s blessing in a normal, everyday person would. But he isn’t afraid of just taking you away from your family and friends.
He’s a blend of baiheng and jingliu, he has bai hengs manipulative tendencies and jingliu’s violent behavior on others to secure you for himself.
Jing yuan: Come with me Love. I wish to teach you swords technique.
Jing Yuan: My love, would you care for some chess lessons?
Jing Yuan: Seize these criminals! Being those who have harmed the L/n’s to me. I shall allow the l/n’s to punish them accordingly.
4/10–Similar to baiheng but a little more dangerous as he does have violent tendencies.
A Manipulative, Possessive, even Self-Indulgent Yandere.
Blade/Yingxing
Yingxing is also surprisingly normal. He uses his charm and crafts things for you to win you over.
He gets Dan Feng to tell him how to crafts those arm braces the Vidyadhara use to feel others warmth from miles away, so he can craft one for you.
He crafts you multiple weapons you have interest in. A sword that can morph into a scythe, a spear that elongates, a chain that has blades (takeda from MKX and 1)
The only negative tendency I see him having is being overly possessive and clingy to you. So he’s controlling, but that’s it. Until he becomes blade.
BLADE—Remembers you, his mind is completely fulled with imagines of you. His obsession and yandere-ness upgrading 10 folds.
Blade takes you in broad daylight, he doesn’t bother any types of subtleties. Your his, you always were.
He’s not suave as yingxing is, he’s just blunt and clingy. A scary violent dog that WILL kill anyone who even looks at you besides the stellaron hunters.
A part of him is annoyed that you’re scared of him, stop shaking and just hug him back you ungrateful fuck!
But there’s a part of him that thrives on it, that breaths it in, swims in your fear. Knowing that your fear will control you, and using it to destroy any hope building in you.
And when the Mara acts up and Kafka isn’t there to stop it..you sir, are fucked. His darker and unhinged personality takes hold, purposefully instilling fear in you.
He throws you in the woods and chases you down like the weak little prey you are. Using the dark, foggy, creepy environment to make you more paranoid.
Sneaking up behind you and breathing on your neck just to disappear as you flick around to face him. Then when he catches you, he reassures you that he’ll protect you, before using his sword to make you bleed.
Unlike jingliu, blade is happier and more then willing to completely rip off your limbs to keep you in place, so don’t push him.
Also similar to her, he loves your tears and blood, enjoying how it makes your skin shine even more than usual.
Yingxing: Your not distracting me dear. Infact, I find myself working better when you’re on my lap.
Blade: Sit still. Or will slit open your throat.
10/10 a more dangerous jingliu.
Delusional, Overprotective, Sadistic, Clingy and Possessive Yandere.
Dan Heng/Feng
Dan Feng is a clingy yandere. Knowing that he’s eventually gonna be reincarnated, he wants you to worship him so you’d love him in his next life.
He isn’t afraid of just taking you in daylight. After all, who would challenge the High elder Vidyadhara?
He ALWAYS wraps his tail around your body. It normally stays on your waist. Thighs if he’s getting jealous or angry, ankles if he feels your challenging him.
Dan Feng keeps you beside him at all times, he the type to teach you history, magic, aeons. But he never teaches you how to fight, he wouldn’t want you to fight back against him.
Dan Feng is a self-indulgent and Possessive Yandere. But what about Dan Heng?
Dan Heng at first doesn’t want to approach you. He knows your Dan Feng lover but also knows how much he’s hurt you.
He tries and TRIES his damnedest to stay away from you. But it seemed Dan Feng love to you transferred to him.
Dan Heng, unlike Dan Feng is a much more softer yandere. He’s clingy and protective of you, allowing you personal space that Dan Feng would’ve never given you.
Dan Heng never transforms into his dragon form, as he knows you’ll get a panic attack if he did. He’s much more happier loving you as Dan Heng then Imbibitor Lunae.
Dan Feng obsession over you also transferred to Dan Heng, so in case that obsession takes over him, he teaches you how to fight, how to exploit his weaknesses.
Dan Feng: Cease your struggles. It’s pointless to fight back.
Dan Feng: Correct~ see how much more knowledgeable you get when you’re around me?
Dan Heng: Forgive me… I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable.
Dan Heng: I am not Dan Feng. I will not harm you or push your boundaries.
Dan Feng: 5/10–Self Indulgent and Possessive yandere
Dan Heng: 3/10–Possessive and Protective yandere.
The Quintet
Your fucked. There’s just other no way to put it, your fucked.
At first they find it hard to share you, they want you all to themselves, it’s too damn suffocating to share you with four other people.
So, they take turns. Jingliu gets Monday’s, Yingxing gets Tuesday’s, Dan Feng gets Wednesday’s, Jing Yuan gets Thursdays, and Bai Heng gets you Friday.
They all share you on the weekends. Taking you on dates privately from the citizens of the luofu.
Escaping them is an absolutely laughable concept. It’s not possible to get away from them, so you might as well learn how to live with them.
The five of them would try to manipulate you into hating the others and liking them more. But they wouldn’t use the others insecurities or share their secrets. Mearly telling you why THEY’RE better.
Speaking of, what are dates like with them? Jingliu’s dates are a murder spree, she takes you to a territory full of the abundance creatures and makes you watch as she kills them all. In her mind, this shows you how well she can protect you.
BaiHeng is more traditional, taking you on a picnic in a nearby planet. Yangxinq would take you on scenic walks dates.
Jing yuan dates are lessons in fighting and chess. Dan Feng’s dates are library ones.
Jingliu and Dan Feng don’t care about your personal space. It’s there’s space too. The other three would try to pry them off of you but be unsuccessful.
You have accessories of them on your body. A glove from Yangxinq, a necklace from Jingliu, a bracelet from bai heng, a weapon from Jing yuan, an arm brace from Dan Feng.
When bai heng dies and jingliu gets Mara-struck shit hits the fan. Jingliu is much more obsessive with you, trying to repeatedly steal you away from Jing yuan who is protecting you from her.
Dan Feng tries to input a forbidden protective barrier on you that causes him to get outcasted and furthers his desire to bring back Bai Heng.
Yangxing and jing yuan gets more protective and possessive over you, with jing yuan’s protectiveness being amplified once yangxing dies and Dan Feng is banished.
Jing yuan isolated you completely from anyone and everything besides him. He can’t take anymore of him friends dying or leaving.
He cries into your chest, hugging you deathly while promising to protect you and degrading himself for not doing more to save his old friends.
Jingliu would try to find you, but eventually she’d leave the luofu, believing jing yuan was hiding you somewhere in the cosmos.
Years pass and the only person you ever need and ever interact with is jing yuan. He’s in a much more better mental state but still extremely overprotective and isolating you.
Blade try’s to find you but falls, Dan Heng represses his obsession of you. No one finds you, and that’s good, no one can take you away nothing can hurt you.
Until SHE finds you. Jingliu comes back and she somehow finds you. Of course he hid you here. Right under where the high cloud quintet would hang out.
She doesn’t steal you immediately. No no no, she needs to make sure it’s you and that jing yuan hasn’t corrupted you in any way.
She gets angry when you mistake her for Jing yuan, so, she decides to cleanse you of him. She steals you away and leaves the luofu and the xianzhou entirely. She doesn’t need that trauma machine of a ship anymore.
She has you, that’s all she needs, all she WANTS.
———-
God fucking damn I’m never doing this again ;-; (maybe)
#honkai star rail#male reader#hsr#yandere#yandere high cloud quintet#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#yandere x male reader#yandere jing yuan#yandere jingliu#yandere dan feng#yandere dan heng#yandere blade#yandere yingxing#yandere baiheng#yandere jing yuan x male reader#yandere jingliu x male reader#yandere dan feng x male reader#yandere dan heng x male reader#yandere blade x male reader#yandere yingxing x male reader#yandere baiheng x male reader#dark romance
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Imagine Gojo Satoru with a partner who loves to bake...
Everyone knows this man has an abominable sweet tooth. He quite literally doesn't stop, sometimes you swear he has a bottomless pit where his stomach should be. How does he eat that much sugar and still look that good anyway?
But he's also a busy man. Oftentimes he works into the early hours of the morning, he doesn't sleep much, and what little free time he has he prefers to spend with you.
Satoru thinks he's the luckiest man alive. Not only is his sweet partner the most gorgeous person he's ever witnessed, not only do you take amazing care of him, but you also bake.
It's a common occurrence for him to wake up on the mornings to the smell of something sweet enticing him towards the kitchen. He finds you there. Usually you wake up bright and early so by the time he saunters out of bed you're already washing up. He always stops you. After all, you've been up putting your efforts into baking - it's only fair that he does the washing.
He loves to try the new recipes you attempt. Macaroons? He's inhaling those. Strawberry pie? Gone in one sitting. Once you made a Bruce cake, Satoru still swears that was the best day of his life.
He's definitely the type of partner who'd take interest in your hobbies. Seeing you happy makes him happy- why wouldn't he want to be a part of your joy? So sometimes you bake together. Albeit, to varying degrees of success.
Satoru tries his best, he really does. But he can't help the fact he's quite messy in the kitchen. Folding batter turns into a splashing mess of ingredients around the kitchen. His face is white with flour. How did he get icing on the ceiling?
But there are also the times it goes well. When he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and watches with interest how you decorate cupcakes with floral frosting. Or when you stir things together, your slow and steady pace mixed with his strength.
You kiss batter off his fingers to taste test your creations. While he leaves sweet kisses on your cheek where flour has somehow stained your beautiful skin. You both choose your favourite flavours and toppings together, and come up with all sorts of ideas on what to make. Whether chaotic or sweet, baking together is always more fun.
His heart melts when he finds the little treats you like to pack him with his lunch. A triple chocolate muffin, perhaps some cookies. Sometimes he finds cake pops decorated like various characters in there. And you leave him sweet notes to go along with it, ones that get him through any hard day.
The house always smells like sugar and the sweetest of fruits, the fridge is full to the brim with treats, and that sweet smile of yours is enough to give anyone a sugar rush. Ever since you came into his life, everything's been sweeter. And he wouldn't trade your dynamic for the world.
Dropping this and running away.
Once again this isn't proof read if you find any spelling errors please do hesitate to tell me.
Thank you for reading 🩵 ily all
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There will be peace when we are done.
Warning ⚠️; slight smut, blood, mention of injuries, loss of limbs.
Pairing; bottom!Gojo Satoru/ Top!Male!Reader
Summary; You refuse to let Satoru die and be used as a weapon just like you refuse to let him fight Sukuna alone.
Note; Yes, I am still in denial. Let my gorgeous king live god damnit he deserves a happy ending. And that is my first smut so be kind :)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your hands were shaking with anger after what you just heard. If it wasn't for Satoru’s hand holding your arm you would be punching them all this instant. How dare they propose such an abomination? How heartless could they be toward their friend? Toward Satoru? Or was he never their friend, just a weapon in their eyes?
- “Bullshit! As if I’m going to stand there and let y'all do something like that!” You snapped, feeling Satoru’s hand squeezing your arm tighter. “Satoru is our friend! He is a human being, not a fucking weapon!”
All eyes are on you, shocked by your reaction. You were a chill guy, not someone who was ready to jump at someone's throat like that. Even Shoko had stepped away from you, her face paler than usual.
Maybe it was the pure rage in your eyes or the murderous aura around you, but they all knew you weren't joking. They knew you wouldn't let anything happen to Satoru, was he dead or alive. You were, after all, loyal to your friends to the point you would gladly sacrifice your life for them. But right now? Right now you only stood by Satoru. You never thought any of them would come up with such a plan.
- “While it touched me that you feel this way, Y/N, we need to be prepared for every outcome.” Satoru said, voice calm but without its usual amusement.
- “Over my cold dead body, Satoru.” You replied, turning your head to stare into his blue eyes.
They were empty, tired and you could tell a part of him had given up. So much had happened within a few months. You had lost many friends and more would fall fighting Sukuna, you knew it. You rested your hand on Satoru’s, gently squeezing it.
- “I am not letting you die and I am not letting them use your corpse like a damn puppet.”
You can't tell your words are touching Satoru. His gaze softened as a small smile appeared on his lips, the first since he had been freed from the box.
- “Thanks, but I’ll win. We are just preparing ourselves in case something goes South.”
- “Nothing will go South, you won't die.”
It’s a promise, a vow to him that you won't let Sukuna kill him. You already lost too much to that fucker, you can't lose Satoru too. Not when you still had to admit your feelings for him, not when Megumi had only him left too.
And with that, the small meeting is over.
You have less than a month to prepare for the fight. It is not enough. The kids are not ready. Yuta has still progress to make and Yuji does too. A single mistake and you'll have to watch the children be torn into pieces, a sight your heart wouldn't support.
As you walk to your room, the night already advanced, you realized that Satoru kept walking by your side in silence. His hand was still holding your arm, something you didn't even notice until now. A small frown was painted on Satoru’s soft face and his eyes filled with something you couldn't really name.
Without a world you let Satoru follow you inside your room. From there, you couldn't tell what thing led to the other, but clothes fell to the ground and you quickly found yourself as naked as the day you were born, kissing and touching a naked Satoru.
It was Satoru who pushed you onto the bed, kissing you like his life depended on it. Your hands found his hips, pulling him against you as you explored his body. A scar here, another there. Your fingers traced them as your lips found Satoru’s throat and a gasp left his lips. You switched position, laying Satoru on the bed as you kissed and caressed his body. His hands grabbed your hair and let out soft moans.
Each touch, each kiss was met with a sound coming from Satoru and it was addictive.
You followed Satoru's needs and wants. Sometimes sweets, then rougher. You left little bite marks on his inner thighs and hips, then kissed his chest and jaws. Before long Satoru was a mess, enjoying your attention and the way you seemed to worship his body.
After that, Satoru would follow you every night, joining you in bed. Sometimes it would be slow with you cuddling and cherishing him. You would whisper soft words in his ear as took your time fucking him. On other nights you would be rougher, and harsher, as if it was your last night on Earth.
Your favourite part was watching Satoru riding you as if his life depended on it. Sweating, head throwback, he was the perfect depiction of lust and you were his toy. You never wanted it to end.
But even when you would both collapse exhausted, you never allowed Satoru to leave. You would cuddle and hold him in your arms until he would fall asleep.
The first time you told Satoru you loved him, you were balls deep inside him with your face buried in his neck. It had been enough to make him come untouched under you. You would tell him, whispering those three words in his ear every night, every time he was so close to coming. He would tell them back before falling asleep as he was cradled in your arms.
The others also realized that something was happening between you. While you had kept it a secret, Satoru wasn't very good with that. Neither were you.
Satoru would sit on your lap, pressing his ass against your cock on the first occasion presented. And there was the way he looked at you, with such hunger or softness depending on the day.
And you were always together.
If you were in a room, Satoru would be too. When he trained with the kids, you would sit somewhere and watch. You were hard with Yuta, telling him he wasn't doing enough or working hard enough when he would switch body with Satoru.
It disgusted you. You would see red each time, wanting nothing more than to force the teen out of your lover and beat him even tho it wasn't his fault. You still didn't agree with the plan and refused to accept it. Each time it was Satoru who calmed your nerves by wrapping himself around your shoulders and making bad jokes. But the second you would be alone, he would hug you and thank you before asking you to spare Yuta from your wraith. How could you resist him and his blue eyes?
Each time you would end up excusing yourself to Yuta even tho you both knew you would snap again.
And finally the Eve of the fight arrived.
That night, no sex. You lay in bed, cuddling each other. Satoru rested his head on your chest, his naked body pressed against yours. You could feel his heart racing in his chest just like yours. You both knew how dangerous the battle was going to be and that not everyone was going to make it. You had promised to not let him die, even if it cost you your life. That was something Satoru hated to think about, but he had nothing to say because you had agreed to let him fight alone. Until you judged the situation to be too bad.
And how right you were going to be.
The battle was a bloody mess. You were left tense and on your toes with each attack, the two men sent to the other. More than once you almost jumped to join Satoru, but resisted, seeing he was fine. When he lost his arm, you lost the little calm you had left. Heart racing, you could only watch him heal himself.
And then he won. Relief flooded you as he stood victorious until you noticed something wrong with Sukuna. Then you knew. Fast, you ran to Satoru and swung him off the ground as you jumped away just in time before pain exploded in your left leg. You heard gasps coming from the kids and other sorcerers while Satoru cursed in your ear. As you landed away, only one of your feet touched the ground. Looking behind you, you saw half your leg lying on the ground in a poodle of blood.
The rest of the fight was a bit of a blur. You obviously healed yourself and returned to the fight. Like the boss of a video game, Sukuna entered a second phase as he took his original form. The battle was long, yet Satoru and you always stayed close to each other. You had to watch your friends die one after the other or get severely injured.
Until Sukuna was down and Megumi finally free.
The first thing you did as victory was yours was to grab Satoru by the waist and kiss him. Your lips pressed hard against his and he kissed you as hard, like a man drowning at sea. You heard gasps and laughs but didn't care. You smiled and held him tightly in your arms.
It was over, finally. Megumi was free, Yuta had killed Kenjaku and Geto could finally rest in peace.
You pressed your forehead against Satoru’s, smiling tiredly.
- “I love you.” Satoru whispered as he plunged his blue eyes into yours, your fingers tracing his new scars. “I love you so much.”
- “So do I. I don't think I would have survived if that attack had taken you down.” You said as Satoru nodded, closing his eyes and just enjoying your embrace.
You could imagine his body cut in half, guts and blood everywhere. The thought brought tears to your eyes and you closed them, kissing Satoru again. But it didn't happen. Satoru was alive, his warm body in your arms was the proof of it.
You laughed when you heard Megumi tell you to get a room before three pairs of arms wrapped around you and Satoru. You smiled as you and Satoru hugged the kids back.
Yes. It was over and there was finally peace. You shared another look with Satoru, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. You knew this was just a new beginning.
#male reader#x male reader#x reader#angst#fanfic#reader#jjk#jjk x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x male reader#bottom gojo#top male reader
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Are you okay writing for tfp Knockout or Breakdown? Maybe they are either another (human) racer or heck even someone who works at the car wash who gives some of the best cars waxes, Knockout befriended. That or maybe they’re a mech experiment (mostly) human survivor that helped Breakdown escape MECH. Or literally whatever you see happening these where just some of my suggestions. The floor is yours if you’re okay writing for them? Thanks either way 😄
My Favorite Accident
Knockout x reader-race
• Huh. Of all the ways you might have imagined you’d die, death by a furious, alien pimp car wouldn’t have made the top ten. Or hundred. Fingers going white knuckled on the helmet in your hands, you feel curiously numb. Drag racing was dangerous and sooner or later, you’d push your luck past the point of no return. But this?
• When you’d managed to pass that stupidly gorgeous, red sports car for the third night in a row, you’d wanted to laugh your head off. Maybe dance a victory jig because your old, rusty Trans Am looked like an ad for tetanus and it’d still beaten all those other pretty, expensive cars. So yeah, when the candy apple red car had followed you and stayed right on your bumper after the race, you’d sucked it up and pulled over. Letting the guy follow you to your house wasn’t happening. If you were going to get screamed at, it was going to be on your terms.
• You grab your switchblade out of the center console and slide it into your back pocket in case wealthy sports car guy decided he could try and bully you out of your winnings. Hip cocked and arms folded across your chest, you wait for the guy to get out and yell- probably accuse you of cheating.
• That sound was something you’d never forget, almost a musical thing as metal shifted and rearranged. And grew to tower over you in the form of a sleek robot.
• An infuriated robot as it takes a thunderous step your way and your helmet hits the asphalt. More than anything, you want to run. The problem is your body isn’t on board. You can’t move at all as it crouches down. “Mind telling me how you beat me in that scrap heap?”
• Cold fury sparking through him, Knockout glares down at the human staring up at him. “Well?” He demands. “You cheated didn’t you?” Because there’s no way a human beat him in that… abomination. It’s not even a car, more a mobile scrap heap. And that just makes it so much worse.
• Huh. Indignation wins out over common sense. “I’m a better driver,” you say. Those strange black and red eyes narrow and you have the thought that you can duck, grab the helmet and sling it at the robot. Maybe buy yourself a whole thirty seconds before it stomps you to death.
• What you don’t expect is for it to throw up an arm in all too human exasperation. “Hardly. I’ve been driving long before you were even alive,” it says, walking past you to stalk around your car. “Do you have any idea how mortifying it is to lose to… this? What it does to my reputation?”
• You can breathe now that it’s not glaring down at you, because it’s popping the hood on your car and shaking its head in disgust. “That’s gotta hurt, huh?” You snark, wincing as it glowers at you over its shoulder with murderous intent.
• “We’re going again. Now.” Because he can’t stand it. And it’s been a long time since anyone’s given him a real challenge. A thrill of electric anticipation makes him smile when your uneasy expression smooths into a cocky sureness, because he knows you won’t just let him win- you’ll fight him tooth and nail for it. A kindred spirit.
Next
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HI OP WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF I SCREAMED!??!!?!?!?!?! OH MY GOD SEVENNNNNN!!!! theyre the real mvp of tbob fr
tagging my wife bc they also screamed seeing this (@t-f-t) and oughh im
this is gorgeous and what a lovely suprise!!!
I found @funky-sea-cryptid ‘s Black Clover Saintverse au of Black Clover and I am in love. I binged 20 chapters of their fic “The Blood of Both is my Limbo” and its just so good.
Design is based on this post of all the different fusions. May or may not have taken creative liberties so you see something wrong or different- no you didnt.
#THANK YOU!?!?!?!?!?!??!#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ART#no. 7/the abomination#🌟 the blood of both#thank you so much! this is gorgeous
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Living doll
Soft yandere!Knockout x reader
He's gorgeous and he knows it. You can't pass a guy like that up. English is not my first language, sorry.
Knockout didn't like organic life forms and he couldn't be blamed for that, more than half the population of his and a few other planets supported and understood the sentiment. There was a lot of organics in the Universe, a variety of creatures met on his way and on the way of others traveling through the vastness of space. Needless to say, they were disgusting in their own way. Spitting slime, devouring everything in their path or just chewing on something stinky and slimy. They're filthy and disrespectful. What an abomination.
So stopping on a planet full of similar creatures didn't please any of them. But maybe he was wrong about the whole negative assessment, slightly. He loved their races, he loved their media space, their hilarious reactions to everything that happened. But he loved his pet even more.
The grace was the lack of interest and questioning about his life. Is he on the spot when medical attention is needed? Good. He went on a mission and at least he didn't die? Then he's free to go. Where he was and who he was with in his free time was nobody's concern and for a while it might have touched his spark, but not now. His little secret is safe, hidden from prying eyes. First just an interest stolen for his own gain and study, then, after the loss of his partner, his comfort, and in the wake of that, addiction.
He needs to escape from his workplace, just for a little while, to hold the soft you in his manipulators. He needs to tuck himself into a human movie with your sweet voice and commentary on the silly actions of the characters. He needs your warmth pressed against his shoulder while you help polish the places he has trouble reaching. That's so sweet of you, because now no one else will come to his rescue. That's one of the many reasons to love you even more.
There are many other reasons, but they can boil down to one thing: you're not like everyone else. Anything he might find repulsive in others is simply not in the nature of your personality. He discovered this back when he was able to get you into his interior for the first time, Primus gracious, you had the good sense to take your flimsy and filthy armor off your legs, hold it in your hands the whole ride, and keep him clean! He was ready to kiss your head at this point!
Knockout loved to groom his precious pet. He had read so many articles and books on human hygiene and beauty that there was no one on Nemesis, no, on all of Cybertron, who was or would be more professional than he. The territory that had belonged to Breakdown was drearily deserted, but the comrade wouldn't mind if his place was put to good use, would he? All shelves and surfaces are now occupied with jars, sponges and bottles.
Knockout loves to take a bath with you. Technically, you're the one who washing, human cleaning products leave streaks and are ineffective on him, and the pressure of his shower is too rough for delicate human skin. So he's bathing you. His pet didn't like it at first. Оf course, he knew too little then and human boundaries. Turns out humans hide the crotch and breast plate areas too. Buying, though more like stealing, fabric for the important places calmed you down, though also after a few tries.
Knockout appreciates a perfect shine, so his pet should shine too. Forgetting all body hair, he will meticulously remove everything but your head so that nothing interferes with the shine of your skin, and then gently sit you down in warm, almost hot water. He steams your skin, rubs all the places well, twirls your figure in his palms and enjoys your appearance, chooses the smell of the gel according to his mood, does not forget the masks and his favorite part - creams.
Mech won't admit it to you, much less to anyone else, not even himself, but your damp, soft skin, into which he rubs the sweet-smelling cream in circles, seems to be driving him slightly insane, giving him glimpses of strange thoughts he doesn't want to ponder further. He just enjoys your scent, your warmth, your quiet voice, fighting the urge to just eat you up because of how adorable you are.
He doesn't want anyone to know about you. When Knockout blabbed to Starscream that he'd seen zombies in a human movie, he stopped himself a split second before talking about your funny comment. It was as if an electric shock ran through his body, and he swallowed the sudden fear.
It hit the doctor.
What will he do if others find out about you? What will they do? Will they use you? Take you away so they have someone to vent their anger on? Throw you out because he's spending too much time on you? What percentage of you are even safe? So often he'd just leave you in his compartment and go on shift, even if he'd run to you on breaks under the pretext of ‘make sure I'm as beautiful as usual at the moment', but he could have higher-ranking Decepticons coming in, they had every right to, and there you were, defenseless and so small.
***
He may be paranoid, so what? Doing a little more than necessary never hurt anyone. You're confused that the new bracelet doesn't come off in any way, looking almost like a handcuff on your arm, but that shouldn't mess with your nicely styled head. Now he can track your every move and may you not know it yourself. He's nobly arranged for you to have your own corner on his desk, behind the datapads, so you won't be throwing yourself into the optics if someone walks in. But it didn't make him feel any better.
Knockout has already had someone dear to him taken away, someone close to his spark and no one cared. He can't lose you, too. So he clings to you more and more with each sunrise, not wanting to leave the compartment, not wanting to part with you, not wanting to leave your warm organic fingers.
As he walks down the corridors, he thinks about the fact that he really would go to great lengths to keep things the way they are now. The thought of being willing to betray the Decepticon cause for the sake of your collective safety halted his stride and made him look away warily. Even if he did, he would never, ever say that to anyone.
#transformers#transformers headcanons#tfp#tf prime#headcanon#knockout#yandere transformers#yandere tfp#yandere knockout#yandere#soft yandere
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• smut• and lead us nott into temptation — asshole! pureblood! dom bottom! theodore nott x male! muggleborn! catholic! sub top! reader
requested by 🦈 anon! (aka my silly goofy lil guy <3)
WARNING: if you don’t like sacrilegious shit or gay male reader inserts, KEEP SCROLLING
i’ve got enough religious trauma to last me many lifetimes, so writing this one was just like ✍️🥲📿
tws: ⚠️dub-con⚠️, 🔞smut mdni🔞, literally no plot, manipulation, coercion, amab reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, pure blasphemy ngl, inappropriate use of religious prayers, lot of shit talking about the catholic church, gratuitous use of em-dashes, gratuitous use of the pet-name “angel”
you and theo are dormmates or something? idfk man this is literally just 2.2k words of depravity
not edited cause tbh i’m hella embarrassed that i wrote this
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“…hallowed be thy na— Theo?”
“What are you doing?” your roommate asked as he stepped inside your shared dorm, his eyebrows furrowing as his gaze focused on the rosary in your hand.
“Praying,” you mumble, cheeks flushing under his heavy stare.
“You’re religious?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You believe in all that Muggle deity bullshit?”
“Yes.” You stiffened, lips twisting in distaste at his choice of words.
You could physically see his pupils dilate at your affirmative answer.
“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. “So you’re…what, celibate, or whatever it’s called?”
You startled at the sudden change of topic.
“Um…abstinent, yes,” you corrected, taking a step backwards as he moved closer.
“Shit,” he cursed again. “That’s fuckin’ hot.”
He kept moving forward, crowding you back against the wall. You squeaked when he rested his hand against the wall beside your head, blocking you in on one side. He gently, but firmly, gripped your jaw in his other hand. His gaze raked up and down your body.
You gulped. “Th-Theo, what’re you d—”
He cut you off with a harsh kiss.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft or sweet. It was Theo biting your bottom lip hard enough to bleed, tightening his grip on your jaw to wrench it open, and shoving his tongue in your mouth.
You were frozen, the rosary slipping from your fingers and hitting the floor with a loud clatter. After an aggressively…passionate? possessive? minute, Theo pulled back.
“My sweet little angel,” he cooed, gently stroking the side of your face. “So pretty and pure.”
Your skin prickled under his touch, at the way his eyes darkened with hunger. The way his gentle caress belied the drop of blood running down your chin.
He looked like sin. The way his hair curled above his ears, his pretty pink lips dotted red with your blood…
He looked like the Devil himself.
“I want you to fuck me, Y/n,” Theo murmured unabashedly into your ear.
Your knees trembled. Your heart raced. Your eyes were so wide, it was near painful. “Wh-what?”
“Please, angel? I want you to fuck me,” Theo whispered against your lips, a sensual tone in his voice.
“Or,” he sighed over-dramatically, really playing it up, “if you want to remain a prude, you can tell me to stop right now and I will; no hard feelings.”
You trembled. What were you doing? Why were you even considering this?
Theo’s hand remained on your waist, and he ran his thumb across your bottommost rib in a steady pattern, back and forth, as he waited for your answer.
“L-Leviticus 18:22,” you spluttered, doing your damn best to ignore the way the sunlight streaming through your dorm window highlighted and accentuated Theo’s gorgeous bone structure. “Th-thou shalt not lie with m-mankind, as with womankind: it is a-abomination.”
“That’s not a no.”
“That’s not a yes!” you argued. “Besides, lust is a sin of its own!”
“No, this doesn’t count.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an abomination, not sex. Says so right in your little book. So therefore…” his fingers wandered down to the waistband of your trousers, dipping teasingly underneath to ghost over your hip bone before retreating. “Therefore it can’t be lust.”
It was the most backwards logic you’d ever heard.
But it was hard to think about turning him away when the heel of his hand was suddenly pressing against the front of your trousers.
“I-it…it isn’t?” you choke out, a confusing new sensation sparking in your stomach. “A-are you sure?”
“Of course,” Theo said, so confidently that you couldn’t help but believe him.
“I-if you’re sure…” you trailed off, eyes widening as Theo dropped like a rock, his knees hitting the flagstone with a resounding crack that you wished you could record, just so you could listen to it over and over and over again.
His impatient fingers fumbled with the button of your trousers, yanking them and your boxers down to your mid-thigh in a single smooth motion.
You flushed bright red at the mere notion of being naked from the waist down in front of another person; let alone Theo, the boy who’d been your roommate for the last eight years.
He kept his gaze firmly locked with yours, those unnervingly dead eyes framed with sinfully long lashes, as he flattened his tongue against the base of your dick and licked a long, slow stroke up the length of it.
“Oh, fuck—” you cursed, your head falling backwards and hitting the wall behind you with a solid thunk.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.” He grinned, his thumb swiping over the head of your dick and collecting the dribble of precum that was steadily leaking from the tip before spreading it around.
You whined pathetically, your thighs shaking as a moan was wrenched from your lips. Theo grinned wickedly at how debauched you already looked.
Without a speck of hesitation, he closed his mouth around your dick, his clever tongue teasing the underside. He hollowed his cheeks around you and you gasped out a choked-off moan.
Theo’s hand snaked up and found your wrist, guiding your hand to the mess of curls on the top of his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair, gripping onto a handful of it for dear life just to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming pleasure. Honestly, the only thing keeping you from falling over was Theo’s tight grip on your hips.
“Shit shit shit shit—”
He pulled off of your dick with a sinful pop.
“Keep reciting,” Theo rasped, his voice already rough and breathless.
“Wh-what?”
“I interrupted your prayer when I walked in here. Keep reciting.”
You gulped, licking your lips nervously as you tried to remember where you’d left off before fully giving up and just starting the Our Father over. “O-Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Th-thy kingdom come, thy w-will be done, on Earth as it— hah~”
Your head fell back against the wall again as Theo sucked furiously on the tip of your dick, all of your thoughts going out the window.
Theodore, that bastard, pulled off again.
You whined at the loss. “No- d-don’t—”
“Ah ah ah,” Theo chided, patting your thigh. “You stop, I stop. Keep going.”
You hissed out a displeased grumble before returning to your prayer as he returned to his S-tier dick sucking. “O-on Earth as it is in H-Heaven. G-give us this d-day our— Theo— daily b-bread—”
His fingers slipped down from your hip to brush against the sensitive skin behind your balls.
Your hips jerked forward on instinct, and Theo moaned like a cheap whore around your cock as it was shoved down his throat, his nose suddenly buried in your pubes.
“And f-forgive us our tre-trespasses…” you panted, fingers tightening their grip on his hair as your eyes squeezed shut.
There was an odd sensation, like a coil tightening, behind your belly button. It was strange, although not unpleasant.
“…as we f-forgive those who— who trespass aga-against us.”
Theo pulled away again. You opened your mouth to curse him out—Heaven knows he deserved it, the damn tease—when he got to his feet and promptly shucked off his shirt and trousers, dropping his boxers without a hint of modesty or insecurity.
You stared, mouth agape, as Theo wandered over to his bed, seemingly in no hurry. He slowly splayed himself out on his bed for you, casting a wandless lubrication charm with a sly grin and an easy, relaxed posture that was belied by his achingly hard cock practically touching his stomach.
“Close your mouth, angel,” he purred, beckoning you closer with two fingers. “You might catch flies.”
You took a small step forward, entranced by the sight in front of you.
“Keep praying, angel,” Theo murmured, running a hand through his already-disheveled curls—which only served in making his just-fucked hairstyle even more pronounced.
“A-and lead us n-not into temptation,”—Theodore Nott was nothing if not temptation in its purest form—“but deliver us from evil.”
You took another step closer, then another, until you were by his bedside. “Amen.”
“Amen,” Theo echoed, reaching for you with one hand. His fingers knotted themselves in your shirt, yanking you down on top of him.
He grabbed the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. You wiggled, kicking your trousers and boxers off from where they were still stuck around your knees before pulling back to gasp for air.
Theo grabbed the front of your shirt again, yanking on it. “Off.”
You complied without a second thought, tugging your shirt off over your head in one fluid motion.
Theo groaned at the sight of your body as you tossed your shirt God-knows-where. He grabbed the back of your neck again and tugged you into another passionate kiss.
“One day, ‘m gonna ride you,” he mumbled against your lips, running a possessive hand over your stomach. “My fuckin’ gorgeous boy. But today, you’re gonna fuck me.”
He pulled you fully on top of him, your knees between his, your forearms flat against the mattress on either side of the boy underneath you.
“Y’know, I never told you to stop praying,” Theo murmured, reaching downwards. His fingers tightened around your cock, stroking it a few times before guiding it closer to his ass and pushing his body down against it.
You swallowed nervously as you took the not-so-subtle hint, taking a deep breath before slowly pressing the tip in and continuing your Rosary. “H-Hail Mary, f-full of Gr—ah!—ace—”
You had to pause then to bury your head in the crook of his neck, your breathing coming in shaky gasps. Your body zinged with pleasure, your toes curling.
“That’s it, baby,” Theo cooed, petting your hair gently. “Doing so good. Keep going. Makin’ me feel so good.”
“Th-the Lord is with thee. Blessed art th-thou amongst women—” you whispered breathlessly against his sweaty skin, pausing again for another second to compose yourself before you very slowly and hesitantly pressed in further.
Theo’s knees tightened around your hips as he dug his heels into the backs of your thighs, urging you closer. “Sh-shit— angel, I need you to go in all the way. C-can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
You nodded and took a deep breath, and slowly and carefully pushed yourself all the way in, bottoming out inside of him after an agonizingly long moment.
Theo gasped sharply as soon as you were fully seated inside of him. His fingers tightened their grip on your shoulders until his nails managed to break the skin. You leaned down to press your lips against his—much more gently than he had—and moaned into his mouth at the slight sting from his nails.
Theo sighed in pleasure against your lips and returned the kiss. “M-move, angel. Need you t-to move.”
You slowly pulled nearly all the way out, your eyes fixed on his face. You wanted to document every facial expression, every muscle twitch, everything that Theo did while underneath you.
Watching his lower lip tremble as a moan spilled out of him had to be your breaking point. Your hips snapped forward of their own accord, quickly filling him back up. “A-and blessed- is- the- fruit- fuck- of thy w-oh!-mb, Jesus.”
His head fell backwards with a loud cry, his nails raking up your back as he scrambled for anything to cling onto. “Yes! Fuck— harder!”
“H-Holy Mar— shit! M-Mary, Mother of G-God…”
You sped up, driving into him faster and harder with every frantic demand that left his lips. You let out a high whine as Theo leaned up to suck on the tender flesh under your jaw with a feral-like possessiveness. Red and purple marks had already begun to bloom along your neck and jaw.
The coil in your stomach tightened even further.
“Th-Theo, I don’t— wh-what’s—?” you stuttered, panicking at the unfamiliar sensation.
“Y-you about to cum, angel?” he panted. He stroked a gentle hand over your lower abdomen. “You feel s-something funny right here?”
You whimpered and nodded frantically. “P-please— I’m gonna—”
“No. Hold it, angel.”
“Wh-what?”
“You don’t get to finish until you finish your prayer, baby boy.”
You hissed in discomfort. “P-pray for us sinners—”
Your words were interrupted by a high-pitched moan from Theo as his back arched off the bed. He started chanting your name, over and over again, like a prayer of his own.
His fingers scrabbled for a hold on your shoulders as he tightened around you. “Shit shit shit— ‘m not g-gonna last— fuck! Cum for me, angel,” Theo pleaded, his nails digging further into your back and leaving long marks that quickly blossomed into a rich pink color.
“Nowandatthehourofourdeath!” you rushed the last line with a near-shriek as the coil in your abdomen exploded, your toes curling again and your vision going white. Your arms buckled and you collapsed on top of Theo, who was experiencing the exact same thing as you.
You both just laid there in a sweaty heap, limp and boneless from your respective mind-blowing orgasms.
“Amen,” Theo said softly, finishing your prayer. He casted a wandless cleaning spell on the both of you before gently wrapping his arms around you and stroking your scratched-up back as you both came down from your highs. You let out a pleased purr at the feeling of his soft touch gently brushing over your stinging scratches, a wordless spell from Theo methodically coating the marks with a numbing topical ointment.
You echoed the sentiment after a moment of catching your breath, content to just cuddle with him in this moment. You pressed a kiss to the side of Theo’s throat and whispered a singular word against his skin, “Amen.”
#harry potter#hp#fuck jkr#hp x male reader#x male reader#x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theo nott#theodore nott smut#theo nott x reader#male reader
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@eyeless-smiles asked:
👀 to walk in on my muse naked
@radiatorchains
"You ain't got the concept of 'knocking' down, do you?" Jain growled out, not even bothering to cover himself up in the Corinthian's presence. Nothing the abomination hadn't 'seen' before- not that Jain was even sure the nightmare could actually 'see'. Either way, he felt no pull towards modesty as he went about getting dressed.
"Should start fucking charging you, since you wanna walk around like you own the damn place," he continued to grumble.
The Nightmare looks around the interior of Jain's RV with mild intrigue. No, he hadn't bothered knocking. Since when do monsters need to show each other common courtesy. Its not like they haven't seen each others internal organs before.
"Mmm, I can think of other ways to repay you." The Nightmare purrs out as he steps into the Shifters personal space and shamelessly trails a hand up the curve of the animals lower back. Such a gorgeous figure he has. The Corinthian has taken to objectifying him shamelessly. Seeing just how much of that machismo he can undermine with simple touches and pointed flirting.
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AIGHT, TIME TO PUT SOME PRETTINESS ON MY BLOG.
떠나는 이가 남겨진 이에게
#lies of p#p lies of p#lies of p pinocchio#your art op is just magnificent#also gorgeous work on pandemonium somehow you made it less lovecraftian#it looks more benevolent abomination
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osctober day twenty six
prompt: pumpkin pairing: charles/oscar word count: 500w
Oscar’s not really sure how he got roped into this. Something about Lando’s big pleading eyes and pouty lip, probably. Oscar needs to have a talk with him soon about how he can’t just whip those out whenever he wants to get Oscar to do whatever he wants.
Like joining the town’s yearly pumpkin carving festival, for example.
It’s not even like Lando needs him here. He’s fluttered off to ooh and aah over what Carlos is creating roughly three seconds after they got here, leaving Oscar to work on his pumpkin alone.
Which, all things considered, is not going great. The emptying part was pretty easy, albeit not being the most fun, but now he’s gotten to the actual carving and that’s. Harder.
He’s drawn out a design, a wonky looking smiley, and is just about to call it a day, when the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen wanders over to him. “That is a bit sad, no?” He says, leaning close to inspect Oscar’s pumpkin.
“Uh,” Oscar says, because. Well. It’s rude, but he’s also not wrong. “Thanks?”
“Here, let me help you,” he takes the sharpy from Oscar’s hand, wipes off the previous design. “You will want the mouth to curve up more, like this, and then the teeth here, and the eyes… Voila.” Once he’s finished, there’s a decent looking, yet still simple smiley in place of Oscar’s earlier abomination. It’s… not bad. It’s pretty good actually.
“Thank you,” he says. “That’s. That’s actually better.”
“I know,” the guy says, beaming. “I am Charles, by the way.”
“Oscar,” he says, shaking the guy’s hand. He really is stupidly pretty, messy dark hair hidden behind a bandana, big sparkling eyes, an easy smile. “You like an expert at this stuff?”
Charles shakes his head. “I came here with my friend, Carlos, but he is, well. Occupied.” He gestures to where Carlos and Lando are practically all over each other.
“Yeah, same,” Oscar says. “The other one I mean, Lando. That’s mine. My friend, I mean, not like. He’s my friend. There is no uh. Mine. Boyfriend, I mean.”
Charles raises an eyebrow. A ridiculously stupidly pretty eyebrow. “Good to know.”
“Yeah,” Oscar says. “Well, thanks. I’ll go back to,” he gestures at his pumpkin.
Charles observes him for a few seconds. “You know what? Why don’t I go get my pumpkin and we will do it together. I will need to make sure you bring my creative vision to live, of course.”
“Of course,” Oscar parrots, watches Charles saunter back to his own work station to grab his pumpkin.
Maybe, just maybe, this day wasn’t a complete waste of time after all.
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