#<- the gentleman from hell specific

[theanxiousghostartist]

Me, when podcast characters are clearly entering a dangerous situation that could only end badly: Get out! Get the fuck out! What the fuck are you doing???

[daxisyzz]

Hey there i hope you’re having a great day!

I was thinking about a version of Bucky in which he is absolutely head over heels smitten with his girl that he melts over her simply sweet talking him to get something she wants, he can’t even help it he thinks she is the cutest thing ever.

I feel like no one can do smitten Bucky Barnes justice other than you

Or maybe I’m being biased lol.

Thank you!

Hope you're having a great day too. And thank you for the compliment, it made my day 🫠

Here's your fluffy bucky story. Hope its how you wanted <3

Pretty please

Pairings: Bucky Barnes × Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is hopelessly in love with you. He gives you everything you ask for—until you stop asking. That’s when he decides to give you the one thing you never say aloud.

Word count: 1.3k+

Warnings and tags: Smitten Bucky, a duck?, reader feels slight guilt only for a second, lover boy barnes.

Bucky Barnes had faced down entire armies. He’d survived missions no man should’ve made it out of, stood toe-to-toe with monsters, and walked through fire more times than he could count. But none of that compared to this—to you. To your soft smiles, your gentle laughter, and your very specific brand of mischief. You didn’t need weapons or war to bring a super soldier to his knees.

You just needed one look.

That head tilt. That spark in your eyes. The way your lips would part in that little smile as you leaned in and said in the sweetest voice imaginable—

“Pretty please? With puppy dog eyes?”

He never stood a chance.

You didn’t abuse it. That was the most dangerous part. You only asked for little things. Cute things. Things that could never be considered a burden. And Bucky, well… he’d give you the moon if you asked. Hell, he was halfway to building a rocket when you offhandedly said once, “I wonder what sunrise looks like from space.”

It was a joke. A passing thought.

But Bucky remembered. Bucky always remembered.

The duck was his personal favorite.

It had started on a rainy afternoon, one of those slow, sleepy days where time seemed to stretch. You were in his hoodie, feet tucked into his lap on the couch, scrolling through videos on your phone while the sound of the storm tapped softly against the windows.

You gasped. “Oh my God.”

Bucky looked over, amused. “What?”

You turned the screen to him, pointing wildly. “LOOK at this duck. He’s wearing a sweater vest. This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. James. Look at his feet.”

Bucky squinted. “Huh. He’s fancy.”

“Fancy?!” you cried, clutching the phone. “He’s a whole gentleman. I would DIE for him.”

He chuckled, fingers drumming lightly along your shin. “Would you die for him… or want one of your own?”

You bit your lip. “Bucky, I am not asking you for a duck.”

He leaned back. “But you want one.”

You hesitated. Then…You folded your hands under your chin, your eyes impossibly wide and filled with longing. “Pretty please? With puppy dog eyes?”

He groaned, one hand dragging down his face as a grin crept in. “Not fair. That’s cheating.”

You beamed. “You love it.”

“I do,” he muttered, fully doomed.

Two days later, you opened the back door to the sight of a small, waddling creature in a tiny hand-crocheted sweater vest approaching the porch.

You blinked. “Is that—”

Bucky stood behind the duck, arms folded and entirely too pleased with himself. “His name is Sir Quacksalot. He likes strawberries. And cuddles.”

You gasped. “YOU GOT ME A DUCK?!”

He shrugged. “You said pretty please.”

Your squeal nearly shattered glass. You scooped the duck into your arms and spun around like you’d just won the lottery. “This is the best day of my LIFE.”

Bucky leaned against the railing, watching you coo over your new feathery friend. His chest felt warm—like some part of him had been waiting his whole life to see you this happy.

There was nothing he wouldn’t give you. No wish too silly. No ask too big.

At least, that’s what he thought—until you stopped asking.

It started subtly.

You still smiled at him, still kissed his cheek while he made coffee in the morning, still called him your “Bucky bear” when you wanted to make him blush (which always worked). But you weren’t asking anymore. Not for little things. Not even for something as simple as “can we make pancakes for dinner?” or “let’s take the long way home.”

At first, Bucky didn’t notice. Life got busy. He assumed it was just a lull, something fleeting. But after a week, then two, his chest began to tighten with something like worry.

You still looked happy. But it was quieter. Softer. More... reserved.

He started paying more attention. How your “thank yous” came with a hesitance. How you’d say, “You didn’t have to do all this,” a little too often. How your smile would falter sometimes when he gave you something, even as you hugged him and said you loved it.

And then one night, while you were asleep curled up in his arms, Bucky got up to grab a blanket—and his eyes landed on your notebook.

He wasn’t looking to snoop. He’d seen you scribble in it before—little doodles, grocery lists, the occasional poem or recipe. But this time, a page had slipped out slightly, catching his eye.

He picked it up.

And his heart stopped.

A sketch. A rough pencil drawing of a cabin. Trees. A porch swing. Notes scribbled in the margins.

String lights here?

Big fireplace with that armchair I love.

Waking up to snow. Coffee in mismatched mugs. Just us.

Then, the words that made his breath catch:

“Somewhere far enough to breathe. Somewhere I can wake up with him and feel like the world is still.”

You hadn’t shown this to him.

You hadn’t asked.

And he knew—instantly, gut-deep—that you’d wanted this more than anything. But you’d stopped asking because you didn’t want to seem like you were asking for too much. As if he hadn’t already given you his heart, his home, his soul.

Bucky closed the notebook gently.

And called in a few favors.

You were already suspicious when he drove you out of the city and wouldn’t tell you why. The trees grew thicker, the air cooler, and your eyes narrowed with every passing mile.

“Bucky,” you said slowly. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m always weird.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “If this is a murder cabin, I swear—”

He snorted. “Trust me. You’re gonna like it.”

When he pulled off onto a narrow gravel path, your heart began to thud. And then you saw it.

The porch swing. The twinkling lights. The tall trees surrounding the cabin in quiet serenity, the kind of calm you only ever dreamed of.

Your hand flew to your mouth. “No way,” you whispered.

Bucky stepped out of the car and rounded to your door, pulling it open gently. “Come on, sweetheart.”

You stepped out, staring at the cabin like it might vanish if you blinked. “How did you—?”

“I found your notebook.” You froze.

“I wasn’t snooping. Just saw the page,” he said softly. “And I thought… if you won’t ask for it, I’m just gonna make it happen anyway.”

Your throat tightened. “I didn’t ask because it felt… like too much. You already do so much for me.”

He cupped your cheek, thumb brushing over your skin like he was touching something precious. “There’s no such thing as ‘too much’ when it comes to you. You want it? It’s already yours.”

Tears stung your eyes.

He pulled you into his chest and held you there for a long time, his chin resting against your head, his heart thundering against your ear.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I know,” he murmured. “And I love you more than I’ve ever known how to say.”

That night, you sat on the porch with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, Bucky behind you, his arms around your waist as you sipped hot cocoa in one of your mismatched mugs.The stars were clear. The world was still.

Sir Quacksalot waddled across the porch in another ridiculous sweater (Bucky had packed a whole duffel bag of duck outfits, because of course he had).

And you leaned back into the arms of a man who would burn down the world just to see you smile.

He kissed your shoulder, then whispered against your skin, “You never have to ask, doll. If it matters to you… it already matters to me.”

And in that moment, with his love wrapped around you like a second skin, you finally believed it.

[freeandiwill]

Saja Boy Love Languages

Oh lookie there just so happens to be 5 of them, how convenient.

Jinu - Quality time

This boy absolutely loves to seek you out for impromptu dates, especially more intimate and secluded ones. Long walks after dark, dinner in an empty restaurant, playing card games in bed. He wants to feel like he’s really getting to savor his time with you, absorbing your presence without any interruptions. He’s a sucker for good conversation, whether it’s the two of you just bouncing off each other with banter or having a deep conversation when you should be sleeping or him just listening to you ramble on and on while he memorizes every feature on your face. He’s utterly fascinated with all of your behaviors and soon will be able to read your demeanor like a book, knowing exactly what you need when you need. He gets antsy when he goes to long without having seeing you and will forcibly pull you away from anything if he’s desperate enough, craving another moment with just the two of you.

Abby - Acts of Service

Despite being kind of a massive douchebag, he really enjoys feeling like a true gentleman for you. First of all, absolutely any opportunity where he can show off his strength and build is a win in his book. He’ll hold your shopping bags for you, block people from bumping into you in crowds, reach things off of tall shelves. Oh, your feet are tired from standing? Well, you are being hoisted up into his arms, no questions asked. His manners game is also off the charts, even though he does it all with the most cocky smirk you’ve ever seen. He holds doors open for you, keeps you on the inside of the sidewalk, mindlessly adjusts your hair and accessories so you always look perfect. And he loves when you dote on him for doing all these little things, drinks up every thank you and cheek kiss. Sometimes you swear he’s randomly buying you your favorite snacks just to see you swoon over his chivalry and giving you his shirt when it’s not even that cold just to show off his abs to you…again.

Romance - Gift Giving/Receiving

How do we feel about ‘Roman’ as an alternative name for him?

Turns out being a massive Popstar has its financial perks and he has very few things he wants to spend his money on besides you. You might open your closet to find luxurious outfits that were totally not there before or find massive bouquets on your doorstep, all his doing. He’s very nonchalant about all of it too, only relaxedly admitting to it when you’re in the midst of having a crisis over where how this 22karat gold bracelet appeared on your wrist. As time goes on, he gets better at distinguishing your taste and making his gifts more appealing to you specifically, like a special edition of your favorite book or a pair of shoes you’ve been wanting all your life. He would literally go to hell and back if it means he could spoil you just a little more, nothing is ‘too much’ for his love. He also adores any and all gifts you give him, from a framed photo of the two of you that you printed out and decorated to literally a hair tie you let him borrow once that never leaves his pocket now.

Baby - Words of Affirmation

What can he say? He’s a lyricist at heart. Honestly, he’s going to be quite cool and apathetic most of the time, but when he gets going he really knows how to really lay it on thick. This might be sickeningly clever nicknames or passing compliments that set your heart on fire. It could also be the absolute most passionate, provocative monologue sensually whispered in your ear at this worst time possible. He loves to torture you with his knack for words. He’ll leave you Shakespearean-level love poems on sticky notes that you keep and cherish forever. And then he’ll mischievously deny ever leaving the note in the first place. He’ll randomly look up at you with glittering eyes and tell you all the ways he holds you dear, how finds you more precious than the universe itself, how he considers you to be a valuable blessing upon his life and he mourns the days before he knew you and dreads every future minute he can’t be beside you. Then he’ll very casually ask what you want for dinner. Good luck with all that whiplash. Don’t worry, even though he might not show it, you drive him just as wild with even the smallest things. You called him cute once and he plays the moment on repeat in his head. Boy is just as down bad as you are, but a lot better at hiding it.

Mystery - Physical Touch

He’s also quite good at keeping himself in check most of the time. In public, he won’t do much besides stand close to you, making sure your shoulders are brushing. He gives little frowns to anyone who tries to come as close to you, hovering over you like a guard dog. If you’re lucky and he’s feeling particularly clingy, he may hold your hand. But this absolutely pales in comparison to how he acts in private: he is feral for your touch. He wraps himself around you and nuzzles into your skin, labored breathing like you’re his only lifeline at this moment. You have to remind him to calm down. His limbs are squeezing yours, nails grazing and groping. You swear to god you hear sniffs, is he smelling you? He’ll press sloppy kisses over every inch of you, whimpering while he leaves wet patches, teeth just barely nicking your flesh. Sometimes he doesn’t realize how rough he’s being with his affection, he really just likes to feel like he’s consuming you, like you’re melting into him so you can never leave again. And if you do have to leave briefly in the middle of a cuddle session, even just for the restroom or to get a drink of water, he follows and has his hands gripping your clothes until he can tug you back to your bed or couch.

[highdramas]

simmering | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!resident!reader warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), references to sex but nothing explicit, you and jack shower together after a horrible shift, pre-relationship domestic bliss, sweet sweet fluff <3 word count: 2.1k summary: you and jack are spent. you stumble into uncharted intimate territory in the confines of his luxurious shower. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. i wrote this kind of spur the moment today, but i'm very happy with how this turned out <3 this is a part of the ring of fire interconnected series, but it’s not necessary to read the prior parts to understand this fic. if you would like to, though, you can find the masterlist here <3 not proofread so apologies for any errors!

it’s a weird thing– the way that you feel entirely at ease in a place that should feel foreign.

jack’s apartment is homey. it’s in the swanky part of town that you always felt you’d never be able to afford. you assume it’s not the home that he shared with his wife; there are echoes of her, everywhere, but you don’t call them out. it doesn’t feel like your place to, anyway. because while she’s there, it’s jack that you feel all around you. you learn that he likes a specific scent of air freshener– woodsy and warm. you learn that he’s in dire need of some new pans, but you also learn that he’s not the greatest cook, so he’s been putting it off. you learn that he loves movies, and records.

you learn that he wears his dog tags, every day. at work, he keeps them tucked beneath scrubs, always out of view. at home, they rest heavy against his chest, and you’ve had to stop yourself from reaching out, trailing your finger along the chain.

it’s an effort to not touch him, most mornings. you’ve gone to his place after almost every single shift for the past two weeks. the two months prior to that, you were typically sitting at the park together until it was nearly ten in the morning and your stomachs were growling so loud it made you both laugh at yourselves.

the years before that, jack was your mentor, but you wouldn’t call him your friend. three months into your year as a senior resident and you feel like you’ve learned more about your attending than you had in the three years that you knew him prior. that’s not quite fair, you know. you knew him in the place he felt most comfortable, work. where he was always challenging you, he was always making you better, while helping you to trust your instincts, too, and letting them flourish. he knew when to push. you think he likes that you challenge him back, too. he always said that you were a fantastic learner. when you would pull through with an excellent save, the low rumble of his voice would often praise you. “good job, kid.”

but now you’re his senior resident and your relationship has changed. you’re not just his student in the sense of medicine. he’s teaching you how to be a leader, how to teach others. you’re his right hand. you’re an extension of one another in most ways, always working in tandem.

and you are fond of him in a way that is not professional. not even close.

when the two of you enter his apartment after a shift from hell– down a resident, new med student, a list of ridiculously rude patients– you each suck in a deep breath. your bags get dropped at the door, shoes kicked off, glasses of water each being filled and sucked down. you barely talked the whole car ride to his place. he had opened the door of his truck for you, closed it, and put on the punk rock station that he liked to listen to, sometimes.

“you should shower first,” jack breaks the quiet. “trust me. it’ll make you feel better.”

it was not the first time you’d showered at jack’s, and you figured it wouldn’t be the last, either. you level him with a look. “you told mckay on your way out the only thing you were looking forward to was a shower.”

“i’m a gentleman, kid. besides, you stink.”

you drop your jaw at him while he snickers. you don’t even mean to say it– you chalk it up to exhaustion bringing all your filters down. “we could always share. it is definitely big enough for two.”

the humor drops clean off of his face. when your brain catches up, and you realize what you’ve said, you shake your head. “i don’t know why i said that.” yes you do. you want to feel jack’s big hands on your shoulders, your neck. you’ve thought, not just once, about how good it would feel for them to run through your hair. the thought of that, the hot water from the shower…

fuck.

whatever is happening on your face, jack is not naive to. “are you sure about that?”

your mouth hangs open and he looks at you with that stare that is clinical, direct. “i–” your voice dies out in your throat. “that was inappropriate on my part. i’m sorry.”

“is that what you want?”

the question is straight forward, simple. all it requires is a yes or a no answer. but it feels so loaded, like a trick question before jack laughs and sends you off to gloria for inappropriate behavior. he seems to recognize this fear in you, because he shakes his head and takes a tentative step forward. “if i tell you, that i would want that…” he tilts his head to the side, seeking out that eye contact that he loves so much. “what would you say?”

you relent and meet his gaze. there’s something… real that simmers.

“that i do want it.”

“you mean that?”

you nod your head. jack shakes his. “no,” he empties that glass of water. “i want to hear you say it. all of it.”

your cheeks flame. “i’m exhausted. you’re exhausted. neither one of us should wait. we're grown adults that see and handle naked bodies all day for a living.” you meet his eyes. "we can handle sharing a shower."

this seems to satisfy him. he nods his head towards his bedroom, and the truly beautiful adjoining bathroom. he approaches his fancy shower, starts the water, and turns it as hot as it will go. “i know you,” he says, almost to himself, as he pulls out two towels, two washcloths. “bet you like to give yourself a third degree burn every time you shower.”

casting your eyes down, you laugh, because of course he can guess such a small detail about you. you watch as he takes a small shower chair out of the shower and sets it to the side. he rummages through a cabinet before he pulls out a cover for his leg, sliding it on and fastening it properly around his prosthetic. it strikes you that this is not something he would let just anyone see. it strikes you, because you feel honored, and you feel humbled that he would share this part of himself with you.

the sound of the water running, the feeling of steam curling around you– it sets every part of you on fire. you and jack look at each other head on. “i’ll get in first, and give you your privacy.”

you nod your head. you turn around away from him as he undresses, the sound of fabric rustling and falling to the ground. you hear that way the pattern of the water hitting the tile change when he carefully steps in. “your turn.”

you peer over your shoulder, and meet jack’s gaze. he smirks and turns around, facing the wall, true to his promise.

hurrying up and following suit, you get in the shower after him. he turns around to face you, water beginning to cascade over the both of you. ”will you let me take care of you?” he grabs the bottle of shampoo and shakes it. “you worked hard today, kid. let me.”

his hands are sure of themselves when they touch you, take your shoulders and turn you around. they’re confident as he makes sure your hair is properly wetted. they’re steady as he pools shampoo into the palm of his hand and begins to lather your scalp. you can’t help it, you groan– your head falls forward. you feel his thumbs begin to rub at the base of your neck, the place where it feels like all of your worries from the day come to congregate. “jesus christ,” he hisses. “you’re tense.”

“nothing an ibuprofen can’t fix,” you try to joke.

he shakes his head. “you’re killin’ me.”

“i don’t have time to go to the chiropractor, or get a massage.”

“make time.” his hands, sudsy from the vanilla shampoo that you’d brought over a week ago, knead into your upper spine. “trust me. you can’t heal others if you don’t heal yourself.”

“did you read that in a book?”

“no. had a good mentor tell me that, years ago. army days.” his hands still before they move back up to your hair. “you won’t last if you don’t do the things you need to do, for you.”

“like have my attending wash my hair for me?” you ask, smiling at the wall of his shower.

“exactly like that.” he tilts your head back and forth, rinsing the shampoo out, before he lathers your conditioner in his hands and smooth out the ends with it.

for as intimate as this all is… it doesn’t feel scary. you’re so tired, that it just feels good to have his hands all over you. it sets you on fire, yes, but not the blazing kind, the kind that would make you push him up against the wall and ask him to have his way with you. it’s a slow, simmering fire. the kind that stays controlled. the kind that can burn ten times as hot. a true slow burn.

you turn around, and finally meet him, eye to eye. your eyes trail downward to his dog tags. without letting yourself think about it too hard, you take it, your fingernails just barely scraping his chest. you watch his chest rise sharply as you run your thumb along the engraving. his hands flex at his sides.

“your turn,” you say, taking his shampoo. he turns around, allowing you to reach forward and work it into his hair. he groans, a hand splaying on the tile. you admire the freckles that dance across his back, and before you can think too much about it, you touch one with your finger, trailing to across his skin from freckle to freckle. “who knew you were hiding all of these?”

“i��m irish,” he bites back, goosebumps rising on his skin. he looks at you from over his shoulder. he looks good enough to eat.

you take the shower head and use it to carefully rinse out his hair. he takes it back from you and spins you once more, making sure the conditioner doesn’t continue to linger in your hair. and, back to back, you pass body wash back and forth, listening to the sound of the other wash their body.

“you can’t wash your leg with that thing on, can you?”

“nah. i’ll get back in and use the seat and wash it after i crash. it can wait.”

you don’t push. ( one day, though you don’t know it yet, you’ll sink to your knees in that same shower and reach a level of intimacy you didn’t know was possible, washing his leg, tending to him. but today isn’t that day. )

as the two of you rinse off, you’re left with this feeling, this feeling that something has changed, shifted, morphed. jack’s hands touched you like you were precious. you offered him that same care. jack turns the water off. you reach for the two towels and pass one to him and you dry off, side by side. you climb out first, the fluffy towel wrapped around your body, and without thinking twice about it, you offer jack your hand to transfer out from the shower. the towel hangs low on his hips, and you have to force yourself not to ogle him. “just take my hand,” you urge, words soft.

jack does. your thumb slides across his knuckles and you hesitate to drop it, even as he has both feet steady on the ground. there’s only a foot of space between the two of you. when you look at him, he’s already staring at you. “i needed that,” he admits in the quiet space that exists between you. the vulnerable space. the one that you’ve created here, in your little post-work oasis. “thank you.”

“you don’t need to thank me. i needed it too.” you feel yourself start to grow warm. “i think i also need to smoke.”

he sucks in a breath, the tension finally snapping, both of you smiling, content. this is easy, this is routine: smoke, sit on the couch, relax. “yeah. i got a little pack of joints on the coffee table.”

“can i crash here for a few hours? then i’ll get out of your hair?”

“stay as long as you want.” jack says it without missing a beat. he scratches at his chest, leaving angry red marks in his path. you have to tell yourself that it is not appropriate to want to trace them with your tongue.

it’s also not appropriate to shower with your attending, your mind counters. that wasn’t appropriate, but you did it.

standing there, you accept that you would do it again.

[spiicii]

the pull out game

feat. the bloodline

summary → just my thoughts on the bloodline's pull out game (i'm definitely not procrastinating my other fics) warnings → smut and personal opinions (though feel free to argue with me in the comments) links → masterlist / taglist 

Jey Uso → He could pull out, but he won’t. He wants to pump you full every time, marking you up at his. He’s possessive like that. He loves watching his come leak out of you just so he can push it back in. A little too cocky about it, talking shit about how bad you needed it (you did) and already gearing up for another round. Things got worse when he became a world champion - his arrogance is now through the roof (but you love it). 

Rating: 6/10. Could pull out but refuses to. Possessive as hell and intends to make you his. 

Jimmy Uso → Only pulls out because he likes making a mess. Is the definition of ‘do it for the plot’ and will sometimes stay inside just to spice things up. He’s reckless on purpose and maybe a little smug too. You know he’s always running his mouth about how much you like being pumped full of his come, laughing as you writhe and whine into the mattress from just how good it feels. 

Rating: 7.5/10. Points docked for unpredictability. Will sometimes finish inside you on purpose then start joking about where the baby crib will fit in the bedroom 🙄

Roman Reigns → He’s moody and you can’t always predict what he’ll do, especially when he’s pent up and frustrated. When he gets in a mood, don’t expect him to pull out at all. For him, it’s about power and control, owning you in every way imaginable. He might even laugh meanly at you, telling you that you ‘knew the risks’ when you let him in between your legs. 

Rating: 5/10. Even more unpredictable than Jimmy. Doesn’t care to pull out when he’s mad or in a mood. 

Solo Sikoa → An expert. A true master of the craft. Such a gentleman and always respectful. Always knows exactly when to pull out and finish on your ass or stomach. Has a perfect record and will only come inside if you specifically ask for it. 

Rating: 10/10. No notes. Always a flawless performance. His self-control is off the charts. 

Sami Zayn → Such a sweetheart. He wants to treat you right, but once things start getting good he can feel his control slipping. He feels you tightening around him and spills inside without even thinking, already remorseful before he’s even finished. He won’t stop apologizing, promising he’ll do better next time (he won’t). 

Rating: 3/10. Means well, but usually gets too caught up in the moment to time it right. 

Jacob Fatu → This man doesn’t pull out of anything nor does he want to. You knew what you signed up for when you let him dick you down like this. He fucks you in the most animalistic ways possible, his enormous cock driving you insane as he bruises your cervix with every powerful thrust. He doesn’t care if you’re on the pill or not - he’s got a breeding kink and loves the idea of knocking you up so he can never leave you alone. 

Rating: -100/10. Has never pulled out of anything in his life and doesn’t intend to start now. 

Tama Tonga → He’s surprisingly good at pulling out despite yapping the entire time. You’re always nervous that he’ll forget, but the man is a pro. Even when he’s spitting the nastiest, filthiest dirty talk, he’ll still pull out just in time, smirking as he does it. He doesn’t mind finishing on your face anyways 😉

Rating: 8/10. Usually yapping so much that you’re worried he’ll forget (though he never does)

Tonga Loa → Our infamous king. What more needs to be said? 

Rating: 1/10. Somehow botches every time but at least he’s apologetic about it. 

Zilla Fatu → Disrespectful as hell. Won’t pull out and certainly won’t apologize for it. Instead he’ll hold your hips down and tell you to ‘take that shit’ while he fills you up. So goddamn cocky that you wanna smack him, but he’s making you feel so good that all you can do is whine and take it. 

Rating: 0/10. Diabolical. 

_____

besties: @acute-crashout-jeyuso @mindairy @amandairene88 @askullasunflower @partypoison00 @brianochka @femdisa @zephyrazzz @scorpiochaos @gardencottage @minteagalaxea @annyanse @nbanenefrmdao @wishyouloveme @glittergirl7 @bloodline-fanacc @key05marie @mzv11 @neytiri-20 @ayeeeitsmiracle @buttercup0024 @punksyeet @pr0wlerpunk @lilucey @cassrox @cosmiccandydreamer @sarlaccussy @fearlesschimera @hadesorion @rollinssection @levissslutt @mingisfavgf @aaira3333 @thealliasylum @marababyyyy @transparentphantomface @eringobragh420 @tssweets @kelbrave @astria0wwe @fairiebabey @romanreignsbae @mandmilovehim @bri-briw-blog @psilovey0u @80sredroad @ajenae

[wendichester]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ so highschool,

summary. strangely enough, dean will be staying in the same place for more than a week. it seems like you caught his eye

pairing. teen!dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 477

notes. i was thinking of turning this small lil drabble into more parts. what do you think? let me know if you're interested ehe ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You hear him before you see him—Dean Winchester, the new guy, the one who showed up a month ago and has already carved his name into the school like he owns the place. Girls whisper about him in the hallways, and guys either want to be him or want to fight him. He’s built a reputation fast: charming, cocky, a little dangerous.

And, apparently, persistent.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean drawls, leaning against the locker next to yours like it was put there for him specifically.

You don’t spare him more than a glance, shoving your history textbook into your bag. “Not interested.”

Dean chuckles, undeterred. “C’mon, you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

You turn to him then, raising an eyebrow. “You were gonna ask me out.”

His grin widens. “Damn, you’re good.”

“And I said no.” You click your locker shut, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “So, if you’ll excuse me—”

Dean steps in front of you, not blocking your path exactly, but making it clear he’s not done. “Hold on, now. You didn’t even let me give my pitch.”

You sigh. “Your pitch?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working on it.” He tilts his head, watching you like you’re a puzzle he’s determined to solve. “Okay, picture this: you, me, a classic drive-in movie—real romantic, right? You get to pick the film, I don’t even care if it’s some sappy chick flick. After that, we grab burgers, fries, a milkshake to split—hell, I’ll even let you have the cherry on top. Then I take you home like a perfect gentleman.”

You fold your arms, unimpressed. “And how many girls have you used that exact line on?”

Dean smirks. “Would it make you feel better if I said just you?”

“No.”

“Ouch,” he says, placing a hand over his heart like you just stabbed him. “Alright, alright, I get it. You’re immune to my undeniable charm.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He doesn’t move. If anything, his eyes soften, like he’s actually looking at you for the first time instead of just working another angle. “Most girls around here fall over themselves the second I flash a smile.”

You shrug. “Most girls around here have bad taste.”

That gets a laugh out of him—real, genuine. “Okay, I deserved that.” He exhales, running a hand through his hair before fixing you with something dangerously close to sincerity. “But listen, I’m not gonna give up that easy.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, you’re not.”

“Damn right. Because, sweetheart, I don’t just want a yes. I wanna earn it.” He winks, stepping back just enough to let you pass. “So, go ahead, keep turnin’ me down. I’ll be right here, tryin’ again tomorrow.”

And with that, he’s gone, whistling as he walks away, leaving you with the distinct, frustrating feeling that this is far from over.

⋆.˚ ★— read part 2

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @taurus0queenie33 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystems ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @kayleighwinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf ⋆ @cursednevermore ⋆ @img14 ⋆ @onelonelybitch ⋆ @americanvenom13 ⋆ @iluvdeanwinchester ⋆ @idk6505 ⋆ @devilslittlehelper ⋆ @cloverleaf20 ⋆ @giggles1026 ⋆ @idontwannabehere7 ⋆ @beakaleak32 ⋆ @ocelotlist51 ⋆ @lelapine ⋆ @pwin098 ⋆ @lacysretribution ⋆ @globetrotter28 ⋆ @aerinu ⋆ @i-love-gvf ⋆ @bejeweledinterludes ⋆ @chi_raz ⋆ @lemonswinchester ⋆ @4k1vrr

[anim-ttrpgs]

Question about deathbed: i havent seen much about it yet but what ive seen doesnt make it sound very...fun to be alive in that world and that its like influenced by practices of the christian church during the middle ages and stuff like that, so im wondering how that would affect being able to even really play a woman being badass in that game?

Is it basically hardmode difficulty if you wanna play a woman?

I have two answers to this.

First is that in Death Bed, a woman can be badass. I’ll demonstrate by making Herr Rike, an old literary and AD&D character of mine, in Death Bed. @thepleasuregoblin @ashweather and @umbraldame can attest that she is just about the most believably badass person there is. (Despite the title of “Herr,” she is a woman and always has been. Well she’s female, technically she isn’t human and in her setting “woman” is a human-specific term while other sapient species have their own terms for genders but you get the point.)

(art by @chaospyromancy)

I’m not gonna go through this very granularly because in Death Bed most stats are rolled, start out very low, and then are upgraded one at a time by level-ups. But over the course of building her stats up to where they should be to represent her I would focus on Agility, Scripture, Dexterity, Vigor, Strength, Endurance, Arcane, and Attunement from highest to lowest in that order.

For Traits, I would get her

(this is a men-only Trait, and also one I will probably nerf before final release, but a female character can still take it, at a price.)

(she isn't actually humble, but the effect of this Trait fits her personality.)

(note the sidebars in this one)

(in no particular order)

I might also consider giving her Gentleman (Men only.) but at the moment in the game’s unfinished state that Trait has an unclear interaction with Lady.

Yes, she does have both men-only and women-only Traits, that’s allowed, it just reduces her Social Status. I rolled it and at the end of all those Traits she still has a Social Status of 27, which is fairly high.

Social Status is a stat representing how respectable the character is by the standards of 1400s society. It determines who gets to talk down to and degrade who. What the higher Social Status character says goes, and if this pecking order is challenged, that tends to distress people.

Characters who have Traits which fall outside their perceived gender suffer a debuff to Social Status, because that’s just how it was back then. Hell, that’s how it is today.

So she could kill monsters and shit with a sword just fine, the worst she would get is maybe the occasional weird look, especially since, in the Middle Ages, it was irregular but not strictly forbidden for women to practice martial arts. The super strict sex-segregation of martial arts was way more of a Renaissance and onward thing.

Now for the second answer.

A lot of what our cultural idea of what is “cool” and “badass” is extremely masculine-favoring. And while yes, swords and armor and violence are cool and badass, (I’m not immune to thinking that the things knights do is cooler than the things their wives do.) a lot of “feminist” or “egalitarian” or otherwise “pro-women” media that is historically set ends up having the message “This woman is badass and cool because she’s.. like a man, unlike those other lameass women who are like women.”

It ends up being the medieval version of that action movie trope that goes like

Male Lead: (pleasantly surprised) “You know how to fight and be badass?”

Female Lead: *racks shotgun* “I grew up with 7 brothers and so I had to learn how to play rough and played army instead of Barbie dolls and I didn’t have a mother and my ex-special-forces dad taught me how to fight starting at a young age. All that masculinity helped me grow up to be cool and tough woman instead of a boring helpless stupid woman.”

instead of, like, celebrating the other 99% of women in that time period who just did woman stuff.

Death Bed allows you to make a character that is a woman but effectively fills the social roles of a man such as killing stuff with a sword*(which is something just about every other TTRPG on the planet also allows), and it allows you to make a character that is a woman and fills all the more normal social roles of a woman while still being a very valuable asset to the party both in and out of combat (and Death Bed has a lot of “out of combat” stuff going on. It’s a classic dungeon crawler, which involves a good amount of combat, but is not purely combat and a party needs plenty of characters who are focused on other things if they want to survive.)

*and again, this wasn’t even something women were strictly barred from doing at the time.

Fencing Master: (Men only. +1 Social Status.) This struggler has +1 Scripture, +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, and +1 Agility. Additionally, upon gaining this Trait, give him any three Weapon Special Attribute Masteries, selected at random from those he does not already have. Additionally, reduce his Hollowness by 1 each time he gains a new Special Weapon Attribute Mastery. However, this struggler must make a Despair roll any time his martial technique is called into question or disrespected, unless he proves himself. If he attempts to prove himself and fails, he must take an added instance of disadvantage to this Despair roll. He must also make a Despair roll each time his weapon is reduced in Maintenance Rating as a result of a failed attack roll. 

Additionally, this struggler gains 2x the EXP from engagements in which he fights alone without allies. 

Frightening Demeanor: (+1 Social Status.) So long as this struggler is not a non-combatant, apply a -1 to this struggler’s Attention each time their Attention is increased. However, apply an added instance of disadvantage to their reaction rolls. 

Humble: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s good nature is a bulwark to disrespect. They gain an added instance of Advantage to any despair rolls related to disrespect. They gain an additional added instance of advantage to any despair roll related to disrespect from characters of lower Social Status. 

Lady: (Women only. +3 Social Status.) This struggler has an added +3 to Scripture,[1] and an instance of advantage on reaction rolls. However, she must take an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair roll resulting from being disrespected by a man or woman of lower social standing, and must make a Despair roll up to once per Scene in which she is not wearing fine women’s clothing.[2][3]

[1. Sidebar] Literacy was considered the domain of noblewomen, clergy, and scribes.

[2. Sidebar] This Trait does not require the struggler to be a non-combatant. Though it was unorthodox for them to participate directly in battle, women of noble standing were not barred from martial training. In fact, a nobleman’s wife was expected to command his levies in battle should their home be attacked while he is away.

[3. Sidebar] Wearing fine women’s clothing does not preclude the wearing of most armor, so long as the visibly feminine elements are preserved.

Additionally, up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 100 EXP if she goes the entire Scene without getting her shoes or dress muddy, wet, or otherwise dirty. [gains EXP from reading literature or eating fine food and drinking fine wine? Figure this out.]

Paranoid: (-1 Social Status.) This struggler has an added instance of advantage to Agility rolls to avoid triggered traps, and, once per Hourglass, the player of this struggler can ask that the Narrator reveal to their struggler any and all traps in a room or general surrounding area and the Narrator will do so. However, they must make a Despair roll if they ever accidentally trigger a trap, or if anyone ever startles them such as by walking up behind them or waking them from their sleep.

Also, when the Narrator makes a wandering monster roll, the player of this struggler may ask that the result be revealed to them, but if they do so, this struggler makes a Despair roll.

Up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 10 EXP for being right about the dangers that lurk nearby.

Sharp Tongue: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s quick tongue and quicker wit allow them to wind around any social slight with the agility of a skilled fencer. At this struggler’s choice, they can cause the object of their ridicule either an added instance of advantage or an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair rolls related to disrespect from this struggler. Either advantage or disadvantage is doubled if their words are actually said in dialogue or at least summarized and the Narrator deems their remark sufficiently clever.

Tactician: (+1 Social Status.) Once per engagement, this struggler can bark out a specific order to an ally with a Social Status up to 3 degrees higher than their own, or any degree lower.[1] If the ally they are ordering complies, that ally gains an instance of Advantage to the next 3 rolls that carrying out that order may entail. However, if the ally refuses or fails to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll. If the ally dies as a result of attempting to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll with an instance of Disadvantage.

[1. Sidebar] This can be done even if this struggler is a non-combatant.

Additionally, this struggler gains 5 EXP for each successful roll on the aforementioned next 3 rolls made by their ally complying with their orders. 

[friendlyneighborhoodcat]

Forsaken Yandere HC-3

Took a while for me to actually start on this because of homework, sorry for the delay:(

I still got 2 pounds of assignment I gotta finish but regardless, enjoy the food<3

This one is for the killers, Noob, and n7 btw. The other survivors are in my two other post

Coolkid will automatically be a platonic yandere, romantic yandere Coolkid writers DNI.

Jason will be the only non-yandere in all three parts. I HC him to be aroace and refuses to look past that.

Warning: Might be ooc

1x1x1x1: She's a narcissistic, sadistic, and pathetic wet cat. Will def target anyone BUT you. Always leave you for LMS (She still kills you, tho, she just likes the thrill of it). Would definitely be grumpy if u ended up winning the LMS and went back to the killer's cabin to stab the wall with her Daemonshank. She resents you, a lot, for being on her mind 24/7. She has long taught herself that affection is weakness(HC), so she doesn't know why it was much different when it comes to you. She's too prideful to admit shit, so if anything you'll just get absolutely mauled if you ever mentioned or teases her about it. It always feels wrong to kill you specifically, and she's fuming that it is.

John Doe: He's a gentleman when it comes to you, mainly because the feeling he has for you reminded him of the feelings he still has for ____. He'd give you small things like flowers he found in a round, or things he made by hand. He doesn't understand much of humans' emotions, but he still tries to for your sake. He always leaves you for LMS before coming up to you and trying to communicate. It always scares the living shit out of you, but you eventually let your guard down a little and share with him some things abt you. You're still wary of him, though, that's for sure. But he's always patient with you. He'll literally do whatever you tell him to, seriously. Tell him to go fight The Spectre, and he WILL actually try it. The Spectre ended up throwing him back to the Killers' cabin with a warning.

C00lkid: Strictly platonic yandere!! He loves you mainly because you're friendly and open around his dad. Would definitely target you first because you're 'his new fav tag buddy', it's only cuz n7's clone fools him every time and he got grumpy from that. You pity him, you really do, since he has to be forced to kill in order to survive as a child. So you're always forgiving and patient when it comes to something that he did. Even if it's server wiping and ripping you to pieces, you'd still forgive him. He thinks of you as a second parent because of that, so he'd always try to get you to 'marry' n7 so it can be official. He's not, in any way, possessive of you. He just gets upset when you show attention to anyone else who isn't his dad.

Jason: Yell at me all you want, but Jason is NOT a romantic yandere. Nor is he a platonic yandere. He's not the type to get jealous or protective over someone. He does think you're cool, tho. Doesn't stop him from hitting you with gashing wound. He only kinda likes you because his mother likes you, but even then, he still wouldn't hold back from server wiping. Overall, he doesn't give a fuck. Ki ki ma ma

Noob: He's tripping over his own feet running around trying to please you. Nervous as hell when it comes to interactions regarding you. You would have to be the one to start a convo with him, cuz he's too scared to even be in your vicinity. He does share his bloxy colas with you during rounds, only if you ask cuz he's fucking terrified of you. You find his nervousness endearing in a way, while he's just trembling when you're around. It's bc of him thinking that you're too cool and stuff to be hanging around him, and he thinks you're judging him for everything he does. He's pathetic, I know. Your patience does get him to warm up to you a little, but he's still somewhat closed off.

007n7: You're one of the few people who don't mind his past, hence why he likes you. He wouldn't show himself much during rounds, but he would leave bloxy colas and medkits near your area(referencing YFAT AU, peak AU btw yall should check it out). He'd apologize for Coolkid's behavior whenever his son tries to get you to 'marry' him. You both find it quite amusing, though. He loves it when you start convos with him regarding the CoolGUI, though he does get uncomfortable when he mentions his past. He'd sometimes get dirty looks from Elliot when he was around you, and he'd visibly flinch from that(Elliot heavily resents him for burning his workplace several times and fears something like that might happen to you).

-----

UEUEUUEUEUE

This is so painful to write, especially when I don't know most of their personalities *sobs*

I'd love to write additional characters like Noli, Azure, or Mafioso but this post would be too long and I'm too tired for that sighs.

I'm considering taking requests, but it's not decided yet since I have to see if I have the time

BYE SILLIES<3

[affableramen]

kinktober. you walk in on them relieving stress

early relationship, explicit content (18+ only), smutty

wriothesley, neuvillette, pantalone, ayato

Wriothesley

The duke was relaxing on his couch in the living room, a glass of whiskey mixed with fonta on the fancy glass coffee table next to him. His expression was one of bliss, and he was letting out silent grunts while his hand was moving quickly between his thighs. He was not naked; all he had to do was unbutton his trousers and he was feeling extremely comfortable. 

You entered the living room, but unlike your boyfriend’s calculations, you arrived a tad bit earlier than usual. He was just going to finish his quite lustful leisure to blow off some steam since his job was hell of stressful. When you came into the room and saw the glass of whiskey you did not quite expect to see your boyfriend doing that. Wriothesley is passionate in bed with you, but he always keeps his desires and emotions in check. Seeing him sprawled out on the sofa and jacking himself to the leakage made you quite perplexed immediately. You could not say that you were not aroused at this so private sight of your man. You decided to simply watch, more so it would be rude to not let him get a release he worked so hard on.

“Baby… I’m coming—I’m coming!” you could swear you heard your man whimper, but hell did he know you were standing right behind the sofa bed, staring at him fisting himself with rapid pace.

Upon Wriothesley releasing, you hugged him from behind, your mouth to his ear, gently grazing against his skin.

“Fuck—archons! You were looking!”

“I couldn't deny myself.”

Wriothesley turns to face you.

“You tease. I wanted to offer you a romantic evening tonight, but since you already saw me embarrassed… We should skip dinner and go instantly to the best”, he smooches you, pulling you onto the sofa lazily, “part.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette wasn't exactly a lustful man and he didn't indulge sex too often, but one specific day he turned out to be extremely horny. His body was just boiling, it wanted to feel your touch, it wanted you. Though you were in your appartment and he felt most lonely. To call you and say that he wanted some intimacy for tonight in his opinion would sound improper. Instead Neuvillette chose to suffer by himself. He was lying on his sofa in the living room, a thick book rejected on the coffee table as he was palming himself quite eagerly. Rare moans would escape his lips to the vulgar thoughts of you.

And there it was — a knock in the door. Neuvillette almost fell from the sofa, but ultimately gathered himself, pulled his trousers back and went to open the door.

“Hi, I’m sorry it must be an improper of me to come so late. I just got into the rain and… you know, your house is much closer to the court than mine… I’m so sorry again, monsieur.”

Neuvillette stared at you with widened eyes.

“Of—of course, my dear. Why don’t you come in? I must say I wasn't expecting guests tonight but—I-I assure you you’re most welcome here at any time.”

The nervousness betrayed Neuvillette and you saw one button of his trousers undone, altogether with his white shirt.

“Forgive me. I was just going to take a shower.”

“I’m sorry once again, I hope I didn't ruin the evening for you.”

“Goodness no. Not in the slightest.” Relieved, he walks you to the kitchen. “Please, you must be hungry. And cold.” He touched your shoulders, your coat was indeed soaked. “Allow me to take it off for you and please do help yourself to some tea. My butler just prepared some for himself but most certainly forgot about it. Here, I’ll fill the cup for you…”

Even though Neuvillette was acting incredibly strange and if you could say lewd, he put lots of efforts to remain a perfect gentleman in your eyes, and that warmed your heart to enormous extent.

Pantalone

With his head thrown back and his Adam apple moving as he breathes heavily, Pantalone is lying in the softness of his own king-sized bed, a lovely evening behind the curtains. He is quite sure that you’re still downstairs giving orders here and there to his cook and the butler while he is talking his time to relax. He went completely mad seeing you in the new outfit today; and even though it was formal, perhaps it was about your charm and charisma that drew him insane so badly. After all, you were not at all a stranger to him, and seeing his girlfriend looking with such finesse and uniqueness of taste just brought Pantalone to the state of a lustful fool who was doing that in his own bedroom.

“F-fuck—for God’s sake—” he breathes in and out but it doesn't help much. His eyebrows are furrowed and his face muscles strained. He didn't want you to see that big damn bulge in his black trousers (that did not help him at all). It was an offence. It was extremely embarrassing for him. He couldn't let you see how much lust he was holding inside. He didn't want you to feel that he only wanted you for that outfit! But he didn't know that he’d be only embarrassed more when you entered the bedroom.

Lucky for him the lights were off and you didn't see what exactly he was doing, however the suggestion was on the surface. Pantalone quickly steadied his frail hands and looked to the side, giving you a most grave, serious expression. 

“I’m coming for dinner soon. Just need to finish some…” he clears his throat, “business calls.”

You smile sincerely. Lucky for the two of you, you pretended like nothing happened. You didn't mind him jacking off, not at all, but you also wanted to let him believe that his act was spotless. 

“Hope they won’t keep you late too much, Lone. I’ll be waiting downstairs darling.”

Ayato

You were just passing through his office door when you pushed it open and see your boyfriend on his chair, turned to the window, not a single piece of him seen. Your gaze falls on his desk where a half empty tissue box is placed. He abruptly turns on his leather office chair and almost jumps seeing you. His thin hands move quickly to pull the boxers up, though he does not have time to clasp his belt.

“What are you doing here? Why didn't you knock?”

“You are quiet. Impressive”, you could not do without your cocky smile, you just had to tease this smooth old bachelor who was being extra naughty in his own office.

Ayato finally does his trousers back and adjusts his tie. He coughs in his hand, but the flushed cheeks and his veiny hands betray his sleek façade.

“Don’t do that ever again.”

“Don’t jack off in your office when it’s unlocked. Anyone could barge in, darling.”

His face grows pale and he nervously wipes the sweat off his forehead. 

“Goodness—was it—unlocked?”

You smile, thinking there’s nothing else needed to be said. 

“Actually Kamisato Ayato, you are so lucky to have me so polite a girlfriend, otherwise you’d get yourself in a situation”, you stop, a dreamy expression on your face while poor Ayato grips the edge of the desk until his knuckles turn white. “And hopefully, you were thinking of me.”

“It was you. Your ass. Those—god damn tight skirts you wear”, he sighs, calming himself with each second more and more returning to the familiar gentleman-like behaviour. “You wanted to talk, I presume? My break has just finished. You’re late. We’ll talk home.”

“Why, you want to get rid of me so badly. Let’s see if we do continue our conversation later. In the bedroom. ” You leave his office with a proud smirk that is difficult to contain.

[myjjongie]

☾ CRAVING YOU ── p. jongseong

IN WHICH: your office rival isn't so keen on seeing you sit in the middle of two male coworkers at the company dinner.

PAIRING: coworker!jay x coworker fem!reader GENRE/WARNINGS: lowercase intended !!, one shot, skinship, they make out (sigh), fluff, angst if you squint hard enough, enemies to lovers, slight sexual tension, mentions of alcohol consumption, slight consent issues WORD COUNT: 3.1k ₊⊹�� EVIE'S NOTE: not necessarily NSFW, but some themes are a bit... so i think it's appropriate to label this as mdni tbh. also if you're thinking "evie was this inspired off of that clip of jay taking a shot recently?". yes. a million times yes. need one drink with him and i'm set for LIFE man. it's insane how quick i thought of this when i first saw that clip LOL

you never thought your future office life would be far from quiet.

no more peaceful work days you imagined about. or the the quiet productivity of a cubicle with your desk neighbor. instead your reality consisted of constant irritation. a never ending battle of slight competition. all with one specific coworker who was hell bent on making your life difficult.

the source of that daily frustration was none other than park jongseong.

things weren’t always like this. when you first joined the company, jongseong was nothing more than a diligent employee. always professional, consistently well dressed, and always adjusting the glasses that rested on the bridge of his nose as he focused on his tasks. at the time he barely spared you a second glance. too consumed by his own work to worry about a newcomer.

but then things changed one day. soon your efforts didn’t go unnoticed. your team leader spoke highly of you in your meetings. making sure to give you praises for your dedication to your work. all it took was one comment from him for your office life to flip.

a passing remark from your team leader about jongseong learning from you, was all it took to make you his competition. in the beginning it was ridiculous. it was as if you saw a child throwing a tantrum. but as jongseong’s antics persisted, you inevitably found yourself drawn into the rivalry you both had subconsciously created.

yet despite that you found yourself falling for him. at first you hated the thought of it. why would you like the person who single handedly flipped your peaceful office life? but then you slowly realized why. jongseong may have been a prick to you on many occasions, yet at the same time he was a gentleman.

jongseong unironically was able to pick up on when enough was enough. he paid attention to how you always reacted to the mutual banter. despite that he was also caring and showed concern. especially during late nights in the office. going out of his way to prepare microwavable meals when you didn’t eat. those small thoughtful gestures had you falling for him before you even realized it.

maybe you would have told jongseong your feelings. but deep down you knew he viewed you as a rival and nothing more. as disheartening as it was. it was something you could live with, but soon found hard in doing so.

now here you were at a dinner celebrating another successful quarter. you were currently sandwiched between two male colleagues of yours. you’ve never really spoken to them much. only quick greetings or slight talk about a mutual interest. at most, they were acquaintances to you.

the close space bothered you slightly, but knew it wouldn’t matter once you started to down some alcohol. after all, this was a celebration dinner, it wouldn’t hurt to get a drink.

meanwhile, on the other side of the small restaurant jongseong was sat with the team leader. accompanied by some other employees. the moment he spotted you, his eyes locked on to you. irritation knitting into his brow as he noticed you sandwiched between the two men. he couldn’t stand it. but he forced himself to push those feelings aside. determined to make the most out of the dinner. even if it was slightly unenjoyable.

jongseong learned early on he liked you. he noticed it the minute he realized his eyes would find you around the office. whether it was in the break room, at your cubicle, or during meetings. he wanted you within his sight at all times. yet jongseong knew you would never feel the same way if he continued this charade of a rivalry. soon he changed his actions, but made sure it wouldn’t be noticed. he’d hoped that if he gathered enough courage. maybe, just maybe, you’d feel the same.

minutes blurred into a half hour, then a hour. you teetered on the edge of drunkenness, while those around you had long since given into their intoxication. anytime your shot glass was empty, your coworkers were quick to refill your glass. your head ached slightly as your body became flushed. yet that didn’t stop you from downing more shots along with beer. at a certain point an arm was thrown around your shoulders. so intoxicated you didn’t even notice your coworker leaning on your body for support.

jongseong’s eyes still glued on you took immediate notice of the way your body leaned in closer to them. his fingers curled tightly around the shot glass, knuckles slowly turning white.

“jongseong would you like another shot?” the team leader spoke up as he eyed the empty glass.

jongseong hummed a reply. once his glass was full, he turned his head to down the shot. the burn of the liquor not doing much to calm his forming annoyance. once setting the glass down, the sharp clink was louder than he intended. his jaw clenched as jongseong silently cursed at himself for how quickly jealousy was getting the best of him. jongseong knew he had no right to be so possessive over you, yet. he couldn’t stand those men peering as closely as they did.

everyone at jongseong’s table looked over at him. confused looks forming at the sudden slam of his glass. “sorry. maybe that should be enough alcohol for me. didn’t even realize i slammed it that hard.” he let out a awkward laugh, hoping it would kill the silence at the table. as well as using it as an excuse to sober up.

soon the chatter at jongseong’s table picked up again. the sound drowning out to him as he once again watched you diligently.

back at your table you were now more than just tipsy. to many drinks in your system to count. you were enjoying the moment of laughter mixed with drinks. you barely realized one of the guys next to you leaned in closer to say something into your ear. resulting in a giggle to leave you.

the moment jongseong saw his fellow coworker leaning in, his grip on his shot glass tightened, jaw clenching. his patience now wearing thin snapped as you smiled at him. the scrap from the chair against the floor was sharp. enough to silence the conversation around him yet again. all eyes were now focused on him. but he paid no mind as his eyes were only on you.

“is everything okay jongseong?” one of the fellow employees asked. but he remained silent, his focus entirely on your table.

his response was curt as he realized his silence. “yes. i just need to take care of something.” stepping out from the chair, jongseong made his way to your table with heavy footsteps.

too busy downing another shot, you didn’t realize jongseong made his way over to you. you finally noticed his presence the moment his low voice rang in your ears behind you.

“i think she’s had enough.” jongseong’s voice came out sharper then he intended, cutting through the drunken laughter. he was quick to notice the two men hesitate beside you before glancing over at him. good. let them be aware of who they’re messing with.

“jongseong? what are you doing here.” you let out a soft giggle.

“we just poured her another shot. let her finish it and then she can leave!” one of the guys protested hesitantly. it bothered jongseong on how they insisted for you to drink more.

he let out a scoff, quick to yank the arm that was draped around your shoulder away. resting his hand firmly on the back of your chair, jongseong leaned over to grab the shot glass. downing it all in one swift gulp. setting the glass back down, jongseong noticed the familiar burn of the alcohol felt nice this time. an annoyed smile made its way onto his face as he spoke. “there. she’s finished. happy now?”

the two men deciding not to mess with jongseong any further fell silent. with a satisfied laugh, he softly pulled your chair back extending his hand to you. grasping it firmly you stood up, only to stumble slightly. jongseong was quick to react. his hand securely wrapped around your waist to steady you.

“thank you.” you cooed softly. his ears flushed slightly at the sound of your voice. a shy smile tugging at his lips.

once saying goodbye to everyone at the restaurant, jongseong ushered you to his car. the hand that was placed around your waist was held in your hand. you were walking ahead of him, almost seemingly dragging him along. you swung your other arm happily as you made your way to the car.

finally making it to his car. jongseong helped you get into the passenger seat. before he was even able to open the car door, you stumbled again. leaning against the car for support you looked over to see jongseong’s arm propped next to you. his eyes stared into you as he took in the moment. jongseong couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at your situation.

on some strange instinct your arms wrapped around his neck. you weren’t the type to be clingy to others while drunk. yet knowing it was jongseong taking care of you, you couldn’t help but do just that.

“jay~” your voice chimed as you smiled softly at him. “thank you.” jongseong’s jaw tightened at the sudden nickname. he wasn’t keen on using his personal name at work. but with you he found it hard to maintain that barrier. especially after he let it slip into a conversation during a late overtime shift.

“don’t thank me. i’m just doing what’s best.” he softly spoke as he opened the car door. jongseong couldn’t lie. in this moment he wanted to kiss you badly. despite feeling that, he held back every nerve from doing so. in fear even if you were tipsy, you would still reject him.

after gently guiding you into the car seat you were quick to doze off. the heat of all the alcohol lulling you to sleep. jongseong couldn’t help but smile at your sleeping form in the passenger seat. the drive to your apartment was silent. your soft breathing being the only sound within the car.

you woke up to the gentle shake of jongseong’s hand on your shoulder. a dull pounding already forming in your head. blinking against the haze of sleep, you stirred, still groggily from the small power nap you took.

“where am i?” you looked around as your eyes focused on the surroundings outside.

“in front of your apartment complex. you drank too much so i brought you home.” jongseong skipped out on a few moments, the whole thing wasn’t particularly a lie.

“i’ll help you out give me a second.” quick to his words, jongseong immediately got out of the car. almost sprinting to your side if you were able to notice.

his hand stretched out for you to grab, as he pulled you out from the car. the walk up to your apartment was nice. jongseong’s hand once again placed at your waist to help keep you steady. you enjoyed the firm grasp he had on you. mentally cursing at yourself that once you reached your door that touch would be gone.

you made sure your pace was slow. wanting to savor the closeness in the moment. jongseong noticed this, but deemed it as you slightly sobering up after your mini nap. he forced himself to think nothing more of it. he didn’t want to read into a situation that was far from what he wanted.

reaching your door jongseong’s hand still never left your waist. keeping you upright as you placed in your pin code. just like you were slowly making your way to the apartment, you stalled opening the door. you had to come to terms that this was it. you bit your lip as you felt jongseong’s hand slide away from your waist.

but once you opened the door, you lost your balance yet again. you tumbled forward, eyes squeezing as you prepared to fall face first. yet you never met the ground. the soft sound of your door closing with a tune echoed behind you. taking in the scene. jongseong had steadied his hand against the wall, while his other arm was tightly wrapped around your waist.

heat ran to your cheeks as you became aware of how close your bodies were. you prayed jongseong wouldn’t hear the frantic pounding of your heart. as he steadied you on your feet once more, jongseong spoke.

“you’re really clumsy when you’re drunk. thank goodness i was here. if i wasn’t you most definitely would have smacked your face against the floor.”

a subtle shiver spread through you as his quiet laugh vibrated against your back. you did everything you could to hold onto the moment. wishing time would slow just enough to make this moment last longer. you made sure to remember every fleeting detail. but soon, jongseong pulled away. his hands settling gently on your shoulders, steadying you once more.

“it’s getting late so i’m gonna head out. don’t fall over right when i leave. i’ll associate clumsiness with you if that happens.” the warmth from his hands left your body. you disliked it. you couldn’t help but want to be greedy for his touch.

just as jongseong was about to reach for the door handle, he froze. your fingers curled softly around the sleeve of his dress shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“could you stay a little longer?” your voice was meek. slightly afraid you over crossed a boundary. even more so afraid jongseong would reject your small advance.

a curse slipped past jongseong’s lips before he could stop himself. his hand raising, fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you closer. pinning you gently against the wall. his glasses reflected the dim lighting hiding the intensity of his gaze. he felt hesitant, the need to restrain himself. but then he saw it, the flicker of yearning in your eyes. that was all it took. his lips met yours. firm yet searching, knowing he had been holding back for far too long.

the hand that had pinned your wrist against the wall now cradled your cheek. his thumb brushing against your skin as he deepened the kiss. jongseong smirked at the faint taste of alcohol lingering on your lips. in that moment he could only focus on the softness of your mouth against his. your fingers tightened around his arm, legs threatening to give out beneath you.

a low growl vibrated in jongseong’s chest at the feeling of his glasses uncomfortably pressing between you. he hesitated briefly, even if it was for a slight second before pulling away. both your breathing uneven as his fingers slid up to the bridge of his nose. quick to yank the frames off with an irritated sigh before pocketing them. his eyes landed back to yours, heavy with want. your stomach fluttered at the anticipation as his lips collided with yours.

his teeth softly grazed your bottom lip. wanting to gain a more deeper access. satisfied with your eager compliance, he was quick to make work with his tongue. his hand inched from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head up to open the kiss.

your knees buckled lightly at the overwhelming shiver that coursed through you. noticing your unsteadiness, jongseong quickly lifted one of your thighs to his side. this helped to stabilize you against him and the wall. not being able to help himself, his fingers brushed lightly beneath your skirt. the warm touch igniting a wave of sensation against your bare skin. the feeling alone drew a soft moan to leave your lips.

your grip now on his dress shirt, tightened in hopes to steady yourself. as the kiss deepened your breath began to hitch. lungs aching from the lack of air. softly hitting against his chest, jongseong took the hint and parted ways.

a smirk curled onto his face as he took in your flushed cheeks. “fuck, you’re beautiful.” he murmured, unable to contain his adoration. he leaned in, lips now trailing against your neck. jongseong left a delicate path of butterfly kisses along your neck down to your collarbone. pausing to suck gently at a particular sensitive spot. he lingered for a moment, savoring the intimacy between you.

his head raised up from the crook of your neck. his eyes stared into yours. even if you were still tipsy you could read him. you knew he wanted this badly, yet he had to stop himself. not for his sake but yours.

“i want this so much yn. i really do. but. not while you’re barely sober… i can’t do that too you.” he pressed his forehead against yours.

“i know…” your voice was low knowing this was where it had to end.

jongseong gently released your thigh helping you regain balance on both feet. you yearned for more from him. more from this moment. but deep down, you knew it was for the best.

“i’m gonna leave now. if this is really what i hope it is. please remember in the morning. if you don’t… god i don’t know what i’m gonna do.” jongseong closed his eyes tightly as if pleading for you to remember everything. the kiss, the way his hands held you, even the moment of shared feelings between you.

you cupped his cheek gently, your fingers tracing the warmth of his skin. “i will. i’ll make sure of it.” jongseong exhaled deeply as he leaned into your touch. already dreading the moment he’d have to let it go.

taking the palm of your hand to his lips. he left gentle kisses along your hand. sending a shiver through your body at the ticklish feeling.

“i’ll see you on monday yn.” he whispered while parting ways from the wall. digging into his pocket to place the glasses back on his face. his back turned to you as he adjusted them.

even in your sobering up state, you understood the situation clearly. as much as you longed for him. his body against yours, his lips kissing you feverishly. it didn’t feel right when you weren’t fully sober.

watching jongseong walk into the elevator you softly closed the door. as the door clicked shut, your forehead pressed against the frame. jongseong’s touch still lingered on your body. your fingers shakily grazed against your lips, the events not sinking in yet. your heart pounded in your chest as you whispered a silent prayer. “please, please, please. don’t forget this.”

perm taglist ( open! refer to this post ) . . . @ikeulove @leehsngs @nickiminajleftasscheek @ijustwannareadstuff20 @sunghoon-cam

©myjjongie 2025

[rottenpumpkin13]

Hi i really liked your genesis headcanons can you do relationship headcanons for seph and ang, thanks btw

Not sure if you came from that post, but I made one for Genesis a while ago in case you want to read it! Here's the link.

Dating Sephiroth

• Completely inexperienced in relationships and romantic feelings in general, initially suppresses his own emotions out of habit, but eventually caves for his person. He treats dating like research at first, reading extensively and trying to understand the "proper protocols" for courting someone (he's so sweet)

• Takes time to open up due to his isolated upbringing, but when he does, he forms an intense, almost obsessive attachment to his partner (i n t e n s e)

• Struggles to express emotions verbally but shows his love through unwavering loyalty and dedication. Will move mountains for his partner if needed. His partner is sick? There goes Sephiroth concocting medicine from scratch bc he doesn't trust Shinra. Partner is hungry? Sephiroth in the kitchen trying his best to make them their favorite food before giving up and ordering out. Partner is cold? There goes Sephiroth's coat and his partner's personal space because now they're bundled in his leather while being squished by a giant kitty.

• Very touch-starved but doesn't know how to initiate physical affection in the beginning. Melts completely when his partner casually touches him or plays with his hair. When he and his partner grow comfortable with each other, Sephiroth absolutely will drape himself over them like a cat, ask for cuddles, and use them as a human plushie.

• Protective to an extreme degree. Has to consciously work on not shadowing his partner everywhere or eliminating perceived threats before they even manifest….like the mailman. Experiences jealousy intensely but internalizes it rather than acting out. Needs frequent reassurance that his partner won't abandon him ;-;

• During fights, he tends to shut down emotionally, not knowing how to handle conflict in relationships. He needs a patient partner willing to help him work through his feelings and to be there to hug and tell him he's still loved.

• Cherishes quiet domestic moments he never had before; simple things like sharing meals or reading together mean the world to him.

• Extremely observant of his partner's needs and preferences. Will remember every little detail about them and use that knowledge to make them happy. That candy their partner mentioned liking in passing? There's now boxes of it in their pantry and Sephiroth bought a monthly subscription to it.

Dating Angeal

• Takes relationships seriously, okay? The man dates for marriage and a life partner, not for a casual fling. And he believes in building a foundation of trust, respect, and understanding before pursuing anything romantic.

• Very traditional in his approach to courting and is a complete gentleman. Will absolutely ask for permission to court his partner properly and plans thoughtful, wholesome dates like picnics, hiking, or cooking together.

• Shows his love through acts of service and protection. Will make sure his partner is well-fed, safe, and cared for. Grows herbs and vegetables specifically for cooking their favorite meals and/or making healthy versions of their favorite junk food. Food is his love language, and there's nothing that makes him happier than cooking for his partner.

• Tender and gentle in private, to an extreme degree. Babies the hell out of his partner and loves quiet moments where he can hold them, talk to them, and care for them.

• Gets adorably flustered by open displays of affection but secretly loves when his partner is demonstrative with their love. Will turn bright red if they so much as hold his hand in public. Yet he casually wraps his arms around their waist when they're out to send a message to the world lol.

• Very protective but not possessive. He trusts his partner completely and respects their independence. His protectiveness comes from a place of genuine care rather than jealousy. But that's not to say Angeal won't break someone's teeth in for trying to get with his partner.

• He's the voice of reason during arguments who tries to resolve things calmly through communication.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

LOVE LEFT ME LIKE THIS AND I DONT WANT TO EXIST

katsuki bakugou x reader

katsuki, japan’s number 1 hero, discovers his fiancé’s dark past and questions everything.

themes of abuse and violence. please read with discretion 🤍

part 1/2

inspired by florida!!!

all you had to do was beat the charges.

first, the body. he’d laid there, mouth foaming and blood pouring from his neck. you had checked his pulse. the deed had been done. standing over him, your eyes wandered to any means of disposal. ultimately, you decided to let them discover it.

second, the evidence. you made sure to use gloves and specifically used his favourite rocks glass, the one he’d drink out of before heading to see you. you’d leave it on the coffee table next to the couch where he currently laid. maybe they’d believe this was his doing, if luck was on your side. you’d write a suicide note on his behalf- you hadn’t thrown our those gloves yet, anyway.

third, the getaway. because you weren’t going to let them drag you away with his body in a bag. the weight of what you had done would do nothing but shackle you down. yes, you’re haunted, but right now you had to act just fine. your heart was tied up with laces and crimes.

and your cheating, abusive, husband seemingly died out of nowhere, supposedly committing suicide on his own accord while his young marital partner disappeared? well, no one asks any questions where you’re headed now.

you did your best to lay it to rest. meanwhile, japan mourned the loss of a seemingly good and innocent pro hero, to whom you now widowed.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

3 years later.

most of your life had been running and hiding. the thought of settling down anywhere, in a city where you were nothing but a mere guest in. you didn’t trust trust, you didn’t trust happiness. all until meeting katsuki one day.

the thought of ever loving a despicable, power-hungry pro hero set off sirens in your head. but there was some allure about katsuki that made you forget the shadows of your past.

little do you know, he fell for you first and he fell harder. it was impossible not to be enamoured with him- a gorgeous, 6 foot tall blonde with a cocky attitude and fierce determination. who you, at first, wrote off to be a shallow douchebag, but who turned out to be the sweetest, most chivalrous gentleman you had ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

perhaps your favourite thing about him were his dreams. the things that drove him to be better. his determination to be a good hero, to be the symbol of peace like the ones who came before him. theres a certain light in his crimson eyes that you can’t miss. he shines bright in this light, dazzling your heart and daring you to love him.

so, after just 2 years of dating, you and katsuki are now engaged and living together. the public knows of you, with both adoring and jealous fans by your side.

it gave you this rush. loving him was passionate as sin. every time you’re with him is one hell of a time, even if its something simple as watching a shitty movie together or folding laundry after work. only occasionally, you’d look over your shoulder, making sure no one was following you.

right now, he’s in the kitchen with you. you’re seated on the counter while he cooks, letting you taste-test everything. the glint of your engagement ring looks stunning in this light. katsuki’s happy to be the first person you’ve been married to. at least, he’s happy believing that.

though, somethings different about him this time. he’s quieter, his mind ruminating on something.

he looks at you, the love of his life, seated on the counter wearing his clothes, and wonders how you could be capable of lying to him.

he sighs, putting down whatever he’s doing. he wants to know the truth.

“babe.” he starts, not fully facing you. your ears perk up at the sound of his voice. “yeah?”

he walks over to you, looking you in the eye with his beautiful red eyes. you could sink in them.

“i’m the first man you’ve ever committed to.. right?”

he asks, though it’s something you’ve told him time and time again. previously, he’s wanted to know for some insecure reasons. you’re his one and only, and in the past, he’s just wanted to know you’re on the same page. it’s something you’ve told him everyday.

“yeah.” you smile, hiding behind that facade. “why do you ask?”

he takes a step closer, looking at you. his eyes are pleading, because he wants you to tell him otherwise. please, tell him that what he’s heard isn’t true.

“i wanted to see if you’d lie to me.”

your heart drops.

“what… what are you talking about?” you almost laugh, nervously. that anxiety creeps up your throat. its pathetic the way you thought you could even keep this up.

he sighs, running a hand through his ashy blonde hair in stress. it was wishful thinking, believing that he, a pro hero charged with investigating and bringing justice, would never find out about your crime. for a moment there, it felt good. like you were really gonna get away with it.

he walks past you, rummaging around in his bag before putting the files on the counter next to you. evidence. the man you had taken out, and links that suggested you had done it. your hands shake, seeing how its all stacked against you. looking him in the eye was out of the question.

truthfully, he isn’t sure who he’s looking at. he knows he loves you, but love has never before made him question everything like you’re doing to him. he sighs before continuing.

“kirishima showed me everything.” he says. “he and his team were investigating this case in a city nearby here. i didn’t think much of it until he told me you married the guy, and left right after he was pronounced dead.”

he looks at you, into the face of the person he loves more than anything. he’s begging you to say no. he’s begging you to be innocent.

“did you do it?”

you swallow hard, eyes darkening as you think of your options. was it worth it to lie anymore.

please say no. he thinks. please tell me it isn’t true.

“…i did what i had do.” you whisper, finally confessing.

and his worst fears are confirmed.

his heart sinks, furious as he looks at you. he’s trying to discern if this is the person he knows, if this is the person he loves. his voice is shaky, hands trembling with unbridled rage he tries to keep under control.

“why.” he says, not a question but a command, like venom. you almost flinch at his tone, though you can’t say you blame him. he person he’s set on marrying hid something so huge from him for years.

“its not what you think.” you insist, truthfully not knowing where to start. you cringe at the way your voice cracks when you speak.

his eyes narrow looking at you. “then what is it? you committed a heinous fucking crime and i’m suppose to think its for a good reason?”

god, if katsuki knew half of how hard you life had been. he had a hunch you were going to lie to him again, and it only made him angrier. “tell me the truth. i wanna know-“

“i had a husband before you.” you cut him off. he decidedly holds his tongue, surmising that he’s finally getting the truth from you. so, he waits. impatiently patient.

“i was young, and i had just run away from home.” you explain, the memories of your past crawling back up your throat. “my father was a creepy, rape-y bastard. couldn’t last another second in that house.” you say.

his heart aches at that. he had some idea that your childhood was less than ideal, but the thought your own father did that to you was more than he could bare. though he’s angry, he knows you didn’t deserve it. “i’m so sorry.”

you simply nod, praying for mercy as you continue. “so… i ran away. there weren’t a lot of people who could help me, or who could bring me in. i stayed on the streets most nights.” you sigh, wishing you could run into katsuki’s embrace. on other day, he’d gladly shield you away from all this hurt.

“and then… i met this guy. a hero, believe it or not.” you chuckle bitterly, much to your fiance’s chagrin. the thought that the bastard who did this to being someone like him made him sick.

“he got me a job, and helped me get back on my feet. i fell in love, as stupid and naive as that sounds.” you say. “…and when he asked to marry me, he said it’d only be on paper. that it’d just be so i could have shelter, food and water. i felt like he saved me.”

katsuki nods, still trying to process all of this. “but he didn’t save you… did he?”

you shake your head.

“turns out i married my father.” you say, darkly. he bites his lip, suspicious confirmed. those abused as children are more likely to move on with someone else abusive, after all. its sad cycle that he wishes he could remove you from. though it seems you had your own way of doing that.

“i was gonna die in that house.” you whisper, voice cracking at the seems. “so…”

you can’t even finish your sentence.

he isn’t an idiot. he can connect the dots. but even though the climactic end of your sentence is obvious, he still can’t quite wrap his head around it. he still loves you, though he’s mad as hell you kept this from him.

“i laced his whiskey and watched as it killed him. after, i… i packed my things and left town. took his money, too.”

his silence is killing you. you wish he’d say something, that its okay- though its not. that he still loves you- though he shouldn’t.

you speak again, maybe trying to fix this mess. “i know its wrong. i know its fucked up. i shouldn’t have.”

he lets out another breath, eyes noticing the way your hands shake. those hands, the ones he’d hold in his own, had blood on them.

“and why didn’t you think to tell anyone? no heroes, no police?” he has the nerve to ask, though its a valid question.

you snap, tension breaking as you push yourself ofd the counter and away to face him. “because i don’t TRUST you fuckers!” you cry, yelling while tears spill from your eyes.

silence.

bakugou stared right back into your eyes as you said that, and his expression immediately hardened again. he was angry all over again. for one, he already knew you didn't exactly trust heroes, albeit except for him. but this just hurt him. he knew that he himself was a hero and would protect you with his life.

so why couldn't you see that?

“i’m going to give you one more chance to re-think what you just said.”

but you stand your ground. “no.” you say, shaking your head. “i was abused for years and no one heard my case. i was dismissed and shunned for years until finally, i ran away. and when i did, i was stupid enough to trust again. to trust one of you power-hungry assholes! and how did that end!? with me being scared to come home everyday! with my husband using me like a god damn punching bag!”

his expression immediately drops at your words. hearing what you went through as a kid hit him like a truck. but, on the other hand, he was still so angry. he wanted to tell you that not all heroes are like that, that he wasn't like that.. but the anger was overpowering both his thoughts and his feelings as he listened. he wants to tell you that it’ll never happen again, but his emotions slip it before he can say that.

“and because of what happened with him, you think we're all like that?!” he roars back.

“its different for you and me.” you say, tears refusing to subside. “every-time i’ve let my guard down i’ve been beaten. nothing good comes from trusting.”

so, he wonders if you ever really trusted him. why agree to marry him if you supposedly didn’t believe in trust, or in love? he feels his whole world begin to crumble around him.

he can see now, putting those signs together. your hesitancy when you first met. your trust issues, your reluctance to speak on your past. it all made sense now, and he hated it.

“thats why you were so hesitant to let me in, huh?” he asks, looking at the ground. he’s struggling to keep calm, between his anger towards the monsters of your past and a little towards you.

“you thought i’d be like him?” he asks, and that question physically hurts your heart.

“no! i love you!” your voice cracks like its a lie. both of you notice that.

suddenly, i love you was like the worst thing he’s ever heard.

“and its worse because i’m a hero too, huh?” he asks. but you can’t answer that. instead, you opt to look down, letting your tears soak into your clothes.

“thats not what i thought.” you say, though you aren’t exactly sure who you’re convincing. “i promise, i know you’re different.”

and he is different. katsuki bakugou was nothing like the demons you had fought in your past. he was bright, and warm, and his love felt like home. more specifically, a home that was about to be torn down.

“then why didn’t you tell me, huh? why keep this from me for years?” he asks, still wanting answers.

to this, you almost scoff. it should be obvious. “how do i tell my boyfriend, who is the #1 hero in the country, the pillar of justice and peace, that i murdered someone? that my own hands took someone else life!?”

god, he’s livid. he can’t even look at you, though he admits he kind of understands why you hid it. he believed you were an angel.

“..and you have the nerve to think i’d stop loving you over it!?”

“YES!”

that answer made his anger hit a new record. He grabbed your arms, pushing you against the wall. he held you against it, his grip firm on your wrists, his eyes filled with anger as he looked over your face.

“do you really think I'm like that? do you really think after everything we've been through I'd just stop loving you that easily?”

he was yelling at this point, but he could also hear his voice break slightly as he spoke. he’s crying too.

“you’re hurting me.” you firmly speak.

the fear on your face makes him realize what he’s just done.

exactly 2 seconds after his question, he lets go, backing away. he stutters to himself for a question, seeing what he’s done like a knife through his chest. maybe he wasn’t any better. maybe you had a right to not trust him.

“i’m… fuck, i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” he says, trying to wipe away your tears. he stops as you flinch away from his touch, only making him hate himself even more.

he loves you, and all he’s wanted to do was protect you. he’s angry, yes, but the last thing he’s ever wanted to do was hurt you. he’ll never forgive himself for that.

silently, you grab your jacket and keys and leave the apartment.

part 2 soon! 🫧

[queenofmorningstar]

hi there! sorry if this is really specific ;; but, would i be able to request Lucifer with New Wife Reader who's similar to Yor Forger? when faced with any horrors in Hell, she's unafraid and unflinching and has no problems utterly tearing other to shreds- but when it comes to being a wife and step mother? she's very awkward and anxious and tries SO HARD for her husband and new daughter because she genuinely loves them so much? she's just super clumsy and shaky and doesn't think she will ever hold a candle to Lillith.

Lucifer x Wife! Reader

Notes: OMG!! I loved doing this! Thank you for such a great ask❤️💕

Screams had long faded into silence, and all that remained were the twitching corpses on the front steps. A massacre.

Lucifer strolled forward, and there she was.

Her gloves were soaked in blood, but her face remained calm—serene, even. Her posture poised like a dancer in the aftermath of a show.

“Darling,” Lucifer greeted with his usual showman’s lilt, “I do believe this is the third welcome party you’ve ‘handled’ this week.”

You stood up stiffly, brushing your hands on your bloodied skirt, trying (and failing) to appear composed. “They—they said something awful about Charlie,” you muttered, eyes flicking to the ground. “I didn’t like that.”

Lucifer’s eyes sparkled.

“I’d be concerned if you did,” he said fondly, stepping closer. “You’re terribly efficient.”

You glanced up at him nervously, hands suddenly twisting together. Now came the part that always made your stomach drop. 

He offered his arm, the perfect gentleman. “Shall we go in?”

You hesitated. “Do you think she’ll ever like me?”

Lucifer tilted his head, studying your anxious expression.

“I think she already does,” he said. “She just doesn’t know how to show it yet. Much like you. You’re hard not to love.”

Your throat tightened, and you took his arm with shaky fingers, his magic cleaning you up, as he led you gently toward the hotel.

This was your first family tea with his daughter.

Family. The word made your stomach twist in a way a beheaded demon never could.

The table was already set.

Three chairs.

Three cups.

Three spoons.

Oh no.

Your eyes drifted to the empty seat beside his and the one across from it.

Her seat. Charlie’s. Raised by the Queen of Hell herself.

And then… there was you. An outsider. A killer. A nobody. You didn’t even know which fork to use. You’d stabbed someone with one once, but that probably wasn’t relevant here.

You felt your throat tighten as a sickening thought crawled up your spine. You will never be her.

Lilith. She was a legend. Charlie’s mother. A goddess among demons. Elegant, adored, graceful in ways you couldn’t even mimic without tripping over your own feet.

Lucifer turned to you with a warm smile,“Come along, my dear,” he said, gesturing toward the parlor. “Tea time awaits. Family bonding, remember?”

You froze. “Lucifer, I—I don’t think I can do this.”

He stopped mid-stride, trying to understand. “What is it, dear?”

You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve. “She doesn’t like me. I’m not... I’m not her mother. I’m not Lilith.”

There it was. The truth dragged trembling out of your throat.

Your voice cracked. “I don’t even know how to be a mother, or a wife. I’m just some monster who’s good at killing things. And she��Lilith—she was perfect. You loved her. Everyone did.”

For a long moment, Lucifer said nothing. Just looked at you—his expression unreadable, the light from the stained-glass windows painting him in kaleidoscope reds and golds.

Then he stepped forward.

He gently took your hands in his, raising them to his lips. “I did love Lilith,” he said, soft and true. “ But she’s not you.”

You opened your mouth, but he cut you off with a smile—not smug or dazzling, but heartbreakingly kind. He leaned in just a little closer, voice lowering into something warm and private.

“Charlie doesn’t need another Lilith. And I don’t want another Lilith. I want you. Our family is odd, messy, but it’s ours. And she’ll see that eventually.”

You stared at him, shaking slightly, heart pounding louder than any battlefield.

“…But what if I ruin it?” you whispered.

Lucifer grinned. “Then we’ll ruin it together, darling. I’m trying, just like you, dear.”

He offered his arm again. This time, you took it with both hands, holding on tighter than you meant to.

“Let’s go meet our daughter,” he said, eyes twinkling. You nodded, still terrified, but maybe a little less alone.

*

Lucifer sat at the head of it all, one leg crossed over the other, while Charlie sat stiffly to his left, as if unsure what to say. You sat on Lucifer’s right, knees tightly together, hands locked in your lap like you were awaiting a trial.

You’d set the table yourself. The napkins folded into little origami roses. The teacups were chosen specifically. And the snacks—oh god, the snacks—you’d agonized over them for hours.

Charlie liked sweet things, but not too sweet. So you’d made strawberry-glazed scones, carefully dusted with powdered sugar. Lucifer liked caramel apples, so you’d crafted miniature chocolate cakes with molten centers of apple jelly, just enough to stain the tongue crimson, just like he enjoyed.

You forced yourself to smile. “I, um… I wasn’t sure what everyone liked, but I tried to make things you’d enjoy.”

Charlie looked up sharply. Not in a bad way—just startled, like you’d said something deeply important without realizing it.

“Oh,” she said. “You… you didn’t have to do that. But thank you. They look… really pretty.”

You smiled—awkward and a little too wide. “I practiced the glaze four times. The first batch came out more like… strawberry glue.”

Charlie let out a quick, breathy laugh before she could stop herself.

Lucifer raised his brows and clapped once, dramatically. “Well! I, for one, am thrilled. You spoil us too much, my love.”

He grabbed a molten cake, took a large bite, and groaned with exaggerated bliss. “Oh, darling, you’ve truly outdone yourself. I feel like I’m falling for you again.”

You turned pink and nearly choked on your tea.

You smiled too hard. “I’m just glad to be here. With you both. I really am.”

And you meant it. You meant it so much it hurt.

Charlie shifted, finally taking a scone. There was a beat of silence. Charlie took a bite. “OH MY GOD!” Charlie squealed. “This is too good!”

Your heart just about exploded. You smiled into your cup. A little crooked. A little relieved.

Charlie looked up from her scone, glancing between the two of you—how her dad’s hand had drifted to yours, giving your hand a squeeze, how he didn’t stop smiling at you, or how his eyes always returned to you.

She smiled to herself and reached for another scone.

[goorgeousz]

(no) underwear | emily prentiss underwear trilogy

(no) underwear | emily prentiss

underwear trilogy

18+ MDNI

pairing: emily prentiss x fem!bau!reader

summary: you go on a date, but all you can think about is emily. so you have no other option than to confront her about it.

content/tw: smut, oral sex (E receiving), thigh riding, fingering, nipple play, FxF sex, if there’s anything else lmk

word count: 4k

a/n: it took me long enough, but it’s finally here!!!!! thank you for all the love on part one and part two, and thank you for the patience!!! I’ve been going through a lot these last couple weeks, but I’m BACK! And a special thank you for @mrsines for the idea and for checking up on me these past days, you’re so sweet!!! Again, I’m sorry it took me this long, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, I hope it’s up to your guys expectations!! I’ll stop yapping, brace yourself this is smutty smut!!!

Tag list @inlovewithjemily @snoopyaah @chestnutninny @piiinco @maryann1204 @babybeeelle

part one

part two

main masterlist

dividers: @uzmacchiato

He was a 10, but didn’t compliment your shoulders.

That was your take on the date you were currently coming home from. It was a great night, honestly. As perfect as a first date could be. He was prettier than the pictures, didn’t let the conversation die, not even once. Treat you like a real gentleman. Get there earlier than you, choose your favorite wine (you tweeted about it once), pull your chair out for you. Paid the bill before it even got to the table. He listened to you, actually seemed interested in you (which isn’t a lot, but a real surprise when it came to dating these days). He complimented you many times: about your intelligence, your appearance, your taste in food.

But not your shoulders.

And that sealed the deal.

—

Emily was at your place, helping you pick an outfit for the date. After about an hour of dissecting your closet from inside out, you narrowed your search down to two options.

So, as you were panicking to choose between two (very similar, mind you) tops, as one does, Emily stepped up, watching you explain the pros and cons from each one from the mirror.

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, analysing your entire figure like a pro. It kind of helped ease your nervousness.

“So, this one or the other?” you asked her, your voice tired and hopeless. She stepped closer, stopping just behind you, her eyes burning holes on your skin. You hoped she didn’t take too long in whatever the hell she was doing, because if she stared a bit longer she might notice you shaking.

“Definitely this one.” Emily stated, finally meeting your eyes in an assertiveness that instantly convinced you “It brings out your shoulders, they’re very athletic.”

“They are?” you repeat her words weakly, suddenly paying attention to your shoulders. She was right, the collar of that specific top flattered that area, and your shoulders were indeed beautiful. It was always like this: whenever Emily mentioned something to you, that specific thing seemed to be highlighted in neon lights. Her words worked like a spell on you, every single time.

“Oh, absolutely.” she emphasized it by grazing her fingertips along your shoulder blades. “You have gorgeous shoulders, I can’t believe no one ever told you.”

—

So, no. He didn’t compliment your shoulders.

It pissed you off. And it pissed you off that you were pissed off about that guy not mentioning how athletic your shoulders look in the first place. You had only Emily to blame.

For that exact (and only) reason, you found yourself giving the taxi driver Emly’s address instead of yours. 

Your mind raced with thoughts, and by the time the car pulled up to Emily’s building, you’d made up your mind. She was going to pay for whatever spell she’d put on you.

The five flights of stairs you took didn't register on your brain, you spent those minutes rehearsing the speech you were about to give her. You had everything in order, all the words perfectly arranged to give her the talk of your life. 

You took a minute to catch your breath because there was no way you would speak your heart out and have a heart attack in between sentences. This was too important.

So, after taking a few deep breaths and repeating the speech one last time on your head, you knocked on her door. Three loud bangs, to which you instantly cringed at the sound. It was way too late for that. But you puffed out your chest, you were going to own it.

It took Emily half a minute to open the door.

It took you one single glance at her to forget every single word you worked so hard to memorize.

She wore a skin tight white tank top (no bra!!!!!!), molding the curve of her perky breasts in a way that belonged to a museum. In a poor job to cover herself, she wore teeny-tiny plaid patterned pajama shorts. If you leaned down you were sure you could see her underwear peeking out from under it. That’s it, if she was even wearing underwear. You decided to not go down that rabbit hole.

“Hey, weren’t you supposed to be on a date?” she asked, seemingly glad to see you but confused.

“Yeah, we had a problem...”

Wrong choice of words to say to an FBI agent.

Her posture changed, her face giving place to a scowl while she instantly reached for her gun and badge on the entryway table.

“What kind of problem? Are you hurt?”

“NO! No, not that kind of problem. The date was fine, I’m fine.” you quickly explained, motioning for her to go back inside.

“Oh, thank god.” she muttered, putting back her belongings. You were too nervous to laugh at her instincts “What’s wrong, then?”

You took a deep breath, stared deep into her eyes, threw away the beautiful and grammarly correct speech you mentally wrote and just said whatever came to mind.

“You mentioned my underwear that time at the bar and my brain completely collapsed ever since. I know you’re just jokingly flirting and that’s what friends do and you probably don't even flinch when you do it, but every time you guess the color of my panties I swear to god all I can think about is you taking it off of me. With your teeth, when I’m ovulating. It’s driving me insane.”

Emily stared at you in surprise at your word vomiting. She opened her mouth and then closed. Once, twice. Nothing came out. Her eyes darted to a point behind you, to where she nodded and tried a tight smile.

“Mrs. Nolan, hi. Have a good night.” you widen your eyes, whipping your head around to find the elderly woman walking past behind you, the red burning on her cheeks contrasting comically to the white of her fluffy hair. “We should probably head inside.” Emily mumbled, taking your attention off of a very scandalized Mrs. Nolan.

You mumbled an apology, tilting your head down and stumbling inside Emily’s apartment. While trying not to bang your head into a wall in embarrassment, you hear her closing and locking the front door.

In Emily’s defense, she’s really trying not to laugh.

In your defense, she’s not doing a very good job.

“Stop.”

“I’m sorry!” she interrupted, her bubbly laugher finally making its way out of her mouth. The sight of her trying to cover up her face with her hands but only managing to laugh louder eventually cracks you, and you chuckle as well.

The two of you spend a moment just looking at each other and laughing at the insanity of the situation.

“Can we start over?” she asked, when her laughter finally died down.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“Please don’t take it back.” she murmures, and it sounds so desperate and bare, you cannot find it in yourself to do it “Did you mean it?”

You took a deep breath “I did.”

Emily sighed like she’d been holding her breath for ages. She stepped closer, her hand sneaking up your cheek. You stared deeply into her eyes, trying to say everything you wanted to but couldn’t. She bit her lower lip, like she was holding herself back, while she searched for confirmation in your eyes. She was hungry, you could see it. You could feel it in the air. You only hoped she knew it wasn’t one-sided.

Whatever evidence of your desire she was looking for, she must’ve found it. Because the next thing you knew, her lips touched yours. They were soft, moist and gentle. Everything you hoped for but somehow so much more.

You held her waist into an embrace, deepening the kiss. You heard her hum into your mouth, her tongue grazing your lips like she was testing the waters before diving in. The kiss turned from chaste to deep within a second. It was hungry, but sure. Not desperate, but full of emotions. You kissed like you’ve done it your entire lives. Like you were meant to do it. And eventually, when air was made extremely necessary, you pulled back in sync. But not all the way, not letting go of each other. Emily rested her forehead on yours, both of your breathing uneven, eyes searching in each other the confirmation that it happened, that it was real. You were real.

“Hi.” she whispered, her hands squeezing your shoulders. You giggled “Hi.”

The two of you stared at each other for a while longer, until she pulled back, her hands finding comfort on the dips of your waist, holding you close enough for your bodies to keep touching, but far enough that you could see her face.

“I assume the date wasn’t great, then.”

“Wrong.” you smiled, finding it way too pleasing to correct her “It was amazing. It was also awful. It’s all your fault.” she laughed, knowing by your tone that you were just being dramatic and everyone (you, really) was safe and sound.

“Please tell me what harm could I’ve possibly done from the safety of my bedroom.”

You blushed at the thought of what she was doing in her bedroom.

“You ruined me. You flirt with me, and you spoil me. You compliment my shoulders, for Christ's sake. You treat me so well, no one could ever me enough. You ruined me.” you accused, smiling. She laughed loudly, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips.

“Guilty.” you laughed, letting go of the embrace to smack her slightly on the shoulder “Earlier you mentioned I was jokingly flirting with you. I need to clarify: I wasn’t joking around. Not once. I've been crazy about you for ages. I was fine with being friends, I really do love our friendship. But I was flirting. Heavily.”

“Yeah?” you asked breathlessly, your heart drumming loudly on your chest. She smiled.

“Yeah. And on a serious note: your shoulders do look incredible.” you rolled your eyes, chuckling. “I mean it. I just want to… Can I?” you nodded eagerly, not having a clue of what she was talking about. She seemed to pick up on your desperation, smirking at you like a predator.

Emily leaned down, using a hand to pull your hair back, giving her plain sight of your clavicle. She sighed, her eyes darkening at the sight of your skin. She dipped her head, pepping kisses every inch her mouth could touch.

The strangled sound you let out was so loud you were sure her neighbors heard it. Her mouth worked wonders on your neck, your hands grasping on her hair for dear life, pulling her in while shoving your torso onto her at the same time.

It was like Emily saw right through you, knowing where to touch, to kiss and to press to get you worked up. And the best part was that it didn’t feel like she was doing it to please you. At least not entirely. She was doing it entirely for herself, like she was out of air and your skin was her oxygen.

Before you noticed, the two of you stumbled around into the living room, the back of your knee bumping against the couch until you fell seated on it. Emily giggled, stradling your hips and grabbing your face between her hands, kissing you passionately again.

“I’ve been dreaming of doing this for so long.” she whispers, between kisses. You feel her fingers grazing the hem of your shirt, and you hesitate for a moment. She feels it instantly “Is everything okay?” 

“Y-Yeah… It’s just… You’re my first. I’ve never been… with a girl.” 

Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous glint.

“You know we don’t have to do anything, right?” you nodded.

“I want to. If you want it too.” she smiles, leaning in again and kissing you hungrier. It was all the answer you could hope for.

This time, you didn’t wait for her to take the lead, you took your shirt off in a swit motion, letting it drop somewhere behind the couch. Emily looked at you stunned, a mist of disbelief and anticipation. She climbed off of your lap, her hands diving down to the buttons of your pants.

“Please…” you whispered when she hesitated, pushing her hand more firmly on you. Her breath hitched, and she started working on taking off your pants. You lifted your hips, your eyes glued to her face, her mouth kissing every bit of newly exposed skin.

With your shoes, pants and top already discarded around the living room, she seated back and stared at your body in awe, taking in the sight of your skin shining under the lacy set you picked out for the evening.

“There’s no way you did all this for him.” she muttered, more to herself than to you.

“I was thinking about you the whole time.” you meant it. You didn’t even realize how truthful your words were until you heard them coming out of your mouth.

Those words and the truth behind them lighted up something inside Emily. The way her eyes darkened was the last thing you saw before she close to jumped on you, the force of the impact making the two of you fall laid on the couch, her body on top of yours, her kisses hungrier and wetter than before.

You took advantage of your position, your hands roaming up and down her torso, grabbing the flash of her thighs and drowning at how soft she felt. It looked like a dance, you moving in synchrony and at the same time messily, trying to keep it going for as long as possible and racing to reach the long awaited relief.

With all the tossing and turning, eventually you found yourself laid flat on your back, with Emily curled up on your side, one of her legs on top of yours and her hand travelling all over your body. She latched on your neck, and her kissing and biting left you a moaning mess, back arching out of the couch and your hips grinding on her thigh.

“You’re so beautiful.” she says, her lips grazing the shell of your ear. Her hands play with your bra, tracing the lacy patterns with a feather-like touch. The softness of her touch made your body burn in need. She keeps up the torture for a bit longer before finally pushing the fabric down, freeing your breasts and playing with each of them attentively. She flicks both your nipples, relishing at how hard they were.

You grabbed her leg, placing it firmly across your legs and grinding against it, using her knee as a personal dildo against your core. Emily groaned at your desperation “Needy, aren’t we?” she managed to say, her voice as breathless as you. You moaned in response, only grinding harder.

Not wanting to be in your way, she let you explore your body (and hers) however you wanted. She loved being used by you, and even though there was nothing more she wanted than to pin you down and explore every inch of your body, she let you have it. It was just the beginning, after all.

She murmured praises to your ear, paying attention to what made you moan louder, eager to learn your wants and needs. All the biting, kissing, sucking she worked on your neck while whispering the most delicious words combined with her caresses on your chest was sending you over the edge faster than it ever did. When he felt your movements going sloppier, Emily flexed her thigh, grinding down harder on your clothered cunt, helping you reach your peak, and just like that, your orgasm crashed down on you. Hard.

You moaned loudly, repeating her name like a mantra and digging your nails at her thigh, leaving marks that would take long to heal.

She stayed right there, stroking you and murmuring praises and soft kisses to your cheek while you climbed out your high, breathless.

When your breath finally evened out, you turned your head to the side, staring at her with wide eyes. She looked at you hesitantly, like you were about to run away from her at any moment. You let go of her leg, letting one of your hands dart up on her face, using your thumb to massage her frown off of her face. You leaned closer, giving her a long peck on her lips.

She sighed against your mouth, her body instantly relaxing in relief.

“Can we move to your bed?”

The smile she gave you could probably stop a word war.

The two of you stumbled along the hallway to her bedroom, stopping only to get rid of her remaining clothes.

Emily sat on the edge of her bed, only her white cotton underwear on. Her body glowed under the light of her bedside table, an unfinished book left upside down on her pillow. You took your time admiring the sight before you, and felt she was doing the same to you.

Without one ounce of hesitation on your mind, you stepped closer, watching in awe the way she parted her legs to fit you between them. Your eyes were immediately drawn by her thighs, the sight of the nail marks you left on the right one startled you for a second, followed by a wave of pride and possessiveness.

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, biting your lower lip to contain a smile. She snorted.

“You don’t sound sorry.” she teases. You lift your gaze back to her face, feeling relieved by her look of amusement. Losing herself in her eyes made you forget what you thought was so funny moments ago, the urge to feel her closer being too strong to ignore.

“I’m not sure about what I’m doing.” you started, hating the way your cheeks blushed in embarrassment. Her hands cupped your face, giving you a kiss.

“We’ll take it slow.”

“I don’t wanna mess this up.” you admitted, your voice weak.

“You won’t.” she guaranteed “Just do whatever you want. Anything.” and it sounded more like a plea than an instruction. So you listened.

Taking her face in your hands, you closed your distance in a steamy kiss. Your tongue immediately found its way back into her mouth, getting rewarded with a sound so strangled and beautiful it made you shiver. Your hands roamed everywhere, her arms, her hands, her torso, her breasts. You cupped each one of her tits, squeezing and massaging them like you wanted to memorize its feeling when you were gone. She arched her back towards you, her legs tensing and moving around looking for something to ground themselves on.

You kept yourself from leaving a mark on her neck, but wasn’t so kind to her chest, biting, sucking, liking and kissing the thin flesh there. She shoved her tits into your mouth, holding your face close to her while letting the most beautiful sounds. You knew she was impatient and was in desperate need of relief, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

Her skin tasted addictively, you were sure you wouldn’t forget the way it felt so soft against your tongue even after years. You found yourself pushing her further into the bed, your kisses making their way down into her stomach, getting lower by the second. The way she squirmed under you only boosted your confidence, and there was no room for second thoughts on your mind, only desire.

“It’s this o…”

“Yes!” she yelped before you could actually ask the question, staring at your hands gripping at the side of her panties, like she could make you move by the power of her glance only. Turns out she could, so you moved the fabric down her toned legs slowly but surely, not hesitating in the slightest.

Your mouth watered at the sight, Emily laid down on display fully naked, begging for you. A sight you only let yourself dream about late in the night, when there was no one watching. Where no one could judge, not even yourself. As if you weren’t deserving of it. And there she was, in all of her glory, looking up at you with so much lust and adoration you swore you could do anything.

She parted her legs, her eyes darkened watching you every breath, and you opened your mouth without realizing

“You’re so pretty, Em.” you managed, leaning closer like you were under a spell. Your fingers darted on her slit, collecting her wetness and watching her reaction. She threw her head back, her hips jerking up in such desperation you should pity her. But you really didn’t.

Watching attentively her face, you started to learn quickly which kind of movements got the best reactions out of her, and by the time you let yourself kiss her there, she was definitely getting a noise complaint the morning after.

She begged, hummed, moaned your name, praising you about how good you were making her feel. You introduced two fingers inside of her, and she actively started riding your face.

“Come here” she demanded, her voice hoarse but still firm. You looked up confused, following her lead when she sat up to reach your lower back and push your hips closer to her hands. You sat awkwardly at her right side by her hips, her hands pushing your face back down to her pussy like she wanted to feast on her body. Already used to being bossed around by her, you immediately returned to your lapping at her cunt.

That’s when you felt her hand making its way between your legs, spreading them apart and quickly pushing your underwear to the side again, diving right back into your already too wet slit.

You laid down further to grant her access, and the two of you ended up in a kind of a sixty-nine position, with her hand working on you instead of your mouth. She shoved her fingers into your slit, making you moan loudly with your mouth glued to her. She felt the sound deep into her, her free hand pushing your head harder into her cunt.

“Right there, shit.” she begged “You’re so good to me, eating me up like that.” you moaned, lapping at her clit like a starved caveman. She nearly screamed, the heel of her hand pressing your clit while her fingers curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot every time she moved them.

You felt Emily clench on your fingers, and you knew she could feel you doing the same “I’m so close, keep doing that. Can you come with me, pretty girl?” she asked, her voice completely out of breath. You just hummed, grinding down on her hand hoping this was enough of a response, not daring to take your mouth off of her. She chuckled, “I’ll take that as a yes.” 

In any other moment, your eyes would roll at how cocky she was being. But right now, they were rolling for a completely different reason, and Emily was completely right to be cocky when she made you come that hard for a second time. She came right after you, her legs shaking so wildly you had to hold them down to help her ride it out with your tongue.

When the two of you climbed down off your heights, you pulled back from her, leaving one last kiss on her clit that made her squirm away. You laughed, and she pulled you by your arm to lay down closer to her.

She held you closer, caressing your cheek. You took in the flush of her cheeks, the thin layer of sweat covering her face and body, a few strands of her bang wet and glued to her forehead.

“Hi.” you whispered. 

She giggled back, “Hi, pretty girl.” leaning in and giving you a kiss. Not a hungry and desperate one: it was passionate and slow. 

It was a promise: this isn’t over.

[nyctoaerah]

Yandere!Limerence!Giyuu Hc's pls? Both nsfw and sfw<3 your writing is so good btw! I'm inlove with limerence🤍🤍 sorry if it's not specific enough 🥹 I just can't get enough of giyuu<3

⋆♱⋆IN LIMERENCE

Warnings: Yandere Behaviors, Loads of Manipulation and Gaslighting, Stalking, Nsfw in the end, tiny bit of somno at the end. MDNI

Pairings: Yandere! Giyuu Tomioka x Fem! Androphobic Reader

The moment that Giyuu finds out about your fear of men, he resorts to an act of shame: He pretended to be a girl, knowing full well how deeply traumatized you are by your male comrades—hell you’re even afraid of your own mentor — Uzui, so who’s to say that you wouldn’t be scared of him if you find out that he’s a male?

So In an act of desperation, he lowers himself so low, because he doesn’t want you to hate him, reasoning with himself that you already see him as a girl anyway, like, his pronouns suddenly turns from he/him to she/her whenever you’re near, not only that, he makes sure to make his voice as soft and as feminine as possible whenever you’re near, after all, he can’t have his pretty darling afraid of him now, can he?

He doesn’t mind wearing makeup or lipstick as long as it doesn’t jeopardize his cover. The other Hashiras were beginning to question whether Giyuu was transgender, and while this wounded his pride, his primary desire for you to be comfortable with him was more stronger than the shame he’s feeling.

He gets jealous whenever you’re near Mitsuri and Shinobu, because he knew damn well that those two girls obviously has feelings for you and they have a lot of chance with you, considering your androphobia — and the fact that there’s a 70% chance that you might be a girl kisser.

He doesn’t like the fact that the two girls, Especially mitsuri — who wasn’t afraid of showing her feelings for you, always hugging you and bombarding you with compliments. Because honestly, what’s the point of having those two girls around when you can have him instead?

He showers you with gifts and often treats you to outings, but truthfully? Those are just his ploys to isolate you from everyone else, after all, he craves your presence and has already sunk to great lows for you; and he definitely won’t let you slip away from his fingers.

He would always stalk you, so he would eventually find out the things that you liked, the things that makes you tick, your fear, and other stuff, and he uses it to his own advantage — especially your androphobia, saying things about the other hashiras, especially the male ones, about how they treat him so bad, and how they make him feel like an outcast. And honestly? you’ll have a hard time trying to find out whether he’s being genuine or not, because it was very obvious that the other hashiras dislikes him. The fact that he’s such a soft-spoken manipulator doesn’t help either

He’s totally into it when you play with his hair; it’s like his personal spa day, He’ll plop his head on your lap like it’s a throne, soaking up your ramblings like they’re the latest gossip,

Here’s where it gets a tad too cozy: whenever you’re yapping about the mysteries of the universe, and there he is, lounging on your lap, His fingers would start their little expedition up your thigh, but don’t worry, he’s a gentleman—he’ll halt if you give him a swat or tell him to stop. But if you let him continue? Well, let’s just say that’s a one-way ticket to a very different conversation.

Giyuu really loves pleasuring you with his fingers and mouth, his fingers would drill deep into your dripping pussy, while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears while he fingers you. Yet, beneath this guise of sweetness, a hidden agenda brews. He hopes—prays—that the intensity of your ecstasy will render you oblivious to the prominent bulge that would always tent his pants, whenever he would get the chance to get in your pants.

He totally shuts you down when it comes to him getting any pleasure, like, no way! If you did, you’d realize he’s definitely a guy, not a girl! So, it’s mostly him just giving you some action. Deep down, he’s kinda happy you’re not sexually active and just goes with the flow. And Honestly? He probably thinks you’re asexual. But man, when he gets all worked up and his cock starts leaking and getting painfully hard, he just ends up taking care of it himself. Sometimes, though, when you’re snoozing, he can’t help but use your hand to get himself off instead.

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐀/𝐍: WOAHHH, this is the first time i got asked for hc’s on one of my books😭😭 so this is actually pretty unique LOL. Anyways, this hc’s is based of my book: Limerence. It’s a yandere!kny book and it’s a harem — it’s why mitsuri and shinobu r said to have feelings for you:) you can go check it out on my wattpad! It’s the rewritten version, but if you read the quotev version (the previous one) it’ll make sense why reader thinks that giyuu is a girl, since the rewritten version hasn’t reached that part yet. But i suggest that you read the rewritten version more cause the orig is cringe af LOL.

[lovesickeros]

zhongli and neuvillette fighting over their reader 🤭🤭

scary dog privilege wherever you go, draconic courting gestures that would scare any regular person, they send each other deadly glares the moment you turn away,

stealing your clothes to just get a whiff of your scent, marking their territory all over your house - making it a battlefield basically, neuvillette (in my hc) is cooler and zhongli is warm so the cuddles are always so comfy ☺️😍,

they give you anything you want - you don't even have to lift a finger, they make you travel between the nations a lot though 😒 sooo clingyyy, extra gentle in their dragon forms as to not squish you, don't even get me started on the size difference 😍😍

just a little thought 🤭☺️

- 🐈‍⬛

Neuvi being colder is so real and canon. I see him as being colder + a lot more lithe, kinda lanky with smaller but sharper canines versus Zhongli who's warmer and a bit shorter then Neuvi + bulkier with bigger but not as sharp canines.

They've also got very different habits – Zhongli is very prideful not just of himself but his nation. He'll personally give your a tour and purposely drag it out as long as he can. Complimenting Liyue is basically complimenting him, checkmate Neuvi. Especially if he convinces you to try on some local Liyue fashion. Harmless and just a nice gift to anyone else but Neuvi sees it for what it is (since your wearing something from Liyue, technically wearing something of his. He loves his technicalities when it comes to staking a claim over you). Adds salt to the wound by touching you in totally innocent ways like to adjust you towards something he wants to show you or accidently brushing against you when he takes the bags of spoils he's practically drowning you in but really he's just making sure his scent sticks. He's just a sweet, nice gentleman with absolutely no ulterior motives trust.

Neuvillette does love Fontaine, but his habits are more about himself then the nation. He'll take you around if you ask or if the idea strikes him, but you'll probably stay around the making city area or the opera house specifically. He enjoys more personal time with just you and him then anything else. He values the immaterial to the material. Zhongli spoils you with gifts, but Neuvi tries to offer quality time irregardless of physical gifts (though he still gives them just not to the extent of Zhongli). He'll take you to see different operas if that's to your fancy, or leverage a bit of his authority to maybe see a few films since those seem to be hitting off in Fontaine recently. Bet that creaky old archon doesn't have those huh. He feels awkward if you want to watch a trial, but he'll reluctantly agree because. well. it's you. just don't wave or anything he's trying to work and he just Really wants to see you smile at him like that again and it makes him lose his train of thought. gets custom clothes designed by Chiori to replace your clothes from Liyue because they smell of Zhongli and it makes him sulky + he likes to match.

G-d forbid these two are in the same room as you because it's a war of attrition at that point. Constant accidental brush of the hand against your shoulder or elbow but it's just them trying to get rid of the others scent. they are side eyeing each other behind your back while being all smiles whenever your looking. If it's hot and you lean into Neuvi more he's practically GLOWING. not even smug he's just absolutely smitten and happy to be of service. immediately takes off his gloves and presses his hands to your face asking if your okay and if you want to go back with him. if it's cold out and you seek out Zhongli more hes smug as hell beneath the calm veneer. Offers you his coat and stay as physically close to you as he can under the pretense of being worried you'll catch a cold if he doesn't warm you up.

don't even get me started on your house either because you probably have tons of gifts from both of them accumulated everywhere. if Neuvi sees you use a tea set from Zhongli suddenly he had a fantastic gift idea he thought you'd like. he even got some tea included with it so why don't you let him make you some? Zhongli sees you using a goblet Neuvi gave you (totally a coincidence it's similar to his) and suddenly you have 27 square cups in your cabinets that you have no idea where they came from. if the goblet is mysteriously missing oh well. who knows :]