#FOR MERCY!!! AND THEN AND THEN!!!! EVERYTHING FALLS AWAY AND ITS SO SOFT

[tsukimefuku]

bad dream ❖ kento nanami

summary: after a bad night filled with nightmares, nanami is glad to see you never left his apartment.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, nanami x reader, tooth rotting fluff, hurt and comfort.

wc: 600

notes, etc: small little drabble I wrote for self soothing purposes and decided to share.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

You were trying and failing miserably to make Kento an omelet before he woke up. You already dreaded the sight you had in front of you, fearing he might wake up with the smell of burnt egg.

Kento, however, wouldn’t wake up due to that, but due to something much more somber. 

Once again, after you had spent the night with him, his sleep would be taken by the vivid nightmares of Haibara’s death and your near death experience mingling together in a senseless dream of gloom. Upon opening his eyes and not seeing you by his side, still half dazed and asleep, Nanami’s heart felt like a rock in his chest.

But by this time, he had learned his lesson.

He quickly stood up and walked to his room’s door, seeing you were already in the kitchen trying to make some breakfast.

Nanami began walking towards you in a quick stride, and you heard his footsteps, turning around to face him as you pulled the pan out of the stove top.

”I’m so sorry to wake you, I didn’t mean to, I was just trying-“

Before you could finish your sentence, though, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you in, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had come desperately searching for the warmth and comfort from you, and was very glad that you hadn’t left his apartment that morning. His nose made its way towards your hair, and he nuzzled around, letting out a strained sigh from the depths of his lungs the moment he felt the flowery scent you usually carried around in your hair and clothes.

You smelled like plum blossoms.

“Kento? Is everything alright?” You inquired with a hint of concern to your voice as you hugged him back.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered against your hair before planting a kiss on your head. His voice sounded just as strained as his breathing.

What has gotten into him?

You waited patiently for his grip to loosen a little before you pulled back and looked at him. His usual impassive face was replaced by a soft pained frown. You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your heart ache a little for him, as Kento really seemed to be anguished.

“Kento, what happened?”

He gulped the sandy sensation in his throat, mouth falling slightly open without a sound coming out of it.

Given he had just come out of the room, you had a hunch, though.

“Did you have a nightmare or something like that?”

You weren’t a stranger to nightmares yourself, given the amount of trauma sorcerers were subject to on the daily. Some of them even featured Kento, much to your despair, until you were given the little mercy of waking up.

Kento simply leaned his face on your hands and nodded, his breath evening out as you both locked eyes for a moment.

“I won’t go anywhere if you don’t go anywhere,” you told him, brushing your thumbs down his cheeks, “just don’t push me away like you did that time and you can rest assured you will never get rid of me, okay?”

Kento sighed, relieved to hear you say that, and the faintest smile took over his expression, as he said, “I promise I won’t ever push you away again.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

It was your turn to smile, as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck and pulled you in, pressing your face gently against his shoulder.

“I’m glad,” you answered, letting your eyes fall shut as you both stood there hugging each other.

The burnt egg didn’t seem so bad now, after all. 

End notes: I’m rewriting “The Event - Part 2” and needed some fluff to soothe myself. Hope this soothes you guys too.

[hwajin]

★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝖜𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 004. — 𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 | 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut, hints of angst

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: initially, he played with you. manipulated you into his trance because it was his calling, hypnotizing you to fall under his mercy — he never expected you to do the same to him, to be intoxicating, to be utterly addicting.

𝖜𝖈: 2.9k

𝖈𝖜: oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, piv, unprotected sex, cumming inside, slight dacryphilia, hints of unrequited love, hints of manipulation (since hyunjin's a siren-)

— series masterlist

His fingers on your skin cold, wet, enticing. His pale lips made their journey against your body, kissing and leaving moist patches on moister skin, giving a bite or two, simply to hear you whine, to feel you squirm beneath his touch. You never wanted to miss it, his touch, always urged for more when he was on the brink to pull away.

You met Hyunjin by the lake, as always from the very moment you had first encountered him – a picknick by yourself, a book on your legs and the sun in your face, and he had stood before you. Had sung a melody so pretty you’d been under his mercy momentarily; and ever since you’d been addicted. Hyunjin needn’t to sing to lure you in anymore, needn’t to use his voice on you to make you want him; you started coming to the lake voluntarily, always waiting for him to show up again, always eager. Maybe his voice had put on a permanent effect on you, a long-term spell. Maybe your longing for the man was illusionary, created by him simply to toy with you – to have his fun before he vanished again, because he never stayed. The very moment he left you and him satisfied he was gone in the blink of an eye, before you’ve had the chance to come to your senses. He slipped away from under your touch as quickly as he emerged, as though not real at all, as though a produce of your imagination.

Hyunjin’s teeth grazed your skin, not leaving a spot of yours untouched, not tended to. You were laying on wettened grass, green and fresh beneath you, paying little mind to the way it soaked you, the way it made you shiver in your place. You’d started to care far less about your clothes or hair soaking whenever with him, started to be reminded of him when in contact with water, in its simplest form – drinking a glass you imagined his wet lips on your own, taking a shower you felt his body all over yours, his hands on your hips and his chest atop yours. It was pathetic almost, reeked of hopeless desperation; and then you kept coming to the lake, kept coming and looking for him, kept stilling desperation only for it to flame within you again, not seconds after your ways parted.

The sky above you made Hyunjin’s figure hovering over your own seem vibrant, glistening almost against grey heavens and fog, beaming in shining droplets of water against cold autumn which lay everything in gloom darkness. His body was everywhere, indulging into you, fully submerging you into the spell of his, into the illusion of his love. You lay under his mercy, hopeless with every touch he granted you, needy for ever more when he as much as shifted in his place. His lips continued their journey on your body – giving a kiss to your temple, to your forehead, far too tender, far too loving; moving on to lips and jaw, more urgent now, more vigorous, mouth having missed yours, inhaling your every sound, making your breath his own, bitten lips caressing chin, biting at sharpened jaw; kissing down delicate neck, teeth breaking softness of thin skin, painting dark flowers onto body, nearly drawing blood; moving down to nibble at shoulders, at collarbones and chest, to soothe with kisses momentarily; doting on waist and hips, leaving matching bruises, painting images of love. You doubted it was any more than that, an image simply – yet you let yourself get lost in it, letting yourself lull into prettiest colours and promises, if only for the moment, if only for the few hours spent with him.

Hyunjin looked up at you from beneath his lashes, long and dripping water, seducing you with not more than a gaze. His eyes dark, deep, bearing oceans. He had the powers to drown you, and you were foolish enough in trying to swim.

His hands accompanied his lips on their path across your body, though it was a far messier one. His palms everywhere at once, halting on cheeks or breasts or hips for only mere moments before they were gone again, eager to touch more of you, to explore your every inch, your every hill and vale, the very flaws upon your skin. He was everywhere and nowhere, leaving you hungry for his hold, his grip on you yet granting you more than you were capable of taking. He marked you entirely as his, going as far as marking your soul, carving his name into its’ pages for you to never forget, to always remember. He was intoxicating, manipulating, impossible to refuse.

His kisses tickled your thighs. You lay exposed before him and he latched onto your inner plush, softly, giving kitten licks to pubic bone, only to kiss, just to see you squirm. He was taking his time with you, testing his own patience – you were long hot and bothered, and Hyunjin – seemingly composed – wasn’t any better. Every of your whimper, your every spasm and plea drove him further to senselessness, to overbearing thirst. He didn’t know quite when his touches on your body started to linger, when his heart started aching whenever he submerged into the lake again, whenever he left you laying on the grass only to come back the next day to find you in the same spot, waiting for him. He didn’t know when looking at you started to pang at his heart, because suddenly aware of the impossibility of it – such feelings weren’t in his nature. You shouldn’t be the one luring him in, you shouldn’t be the one taking up every last bit of his mind, you the only thought playing on a loop. You shouldn’t have the same effect he had on you; it was his power to have, a mere human like you wasn’t supposed to confuse everything he’s thought to know about himself.

He kept teasing, didn’t let your whines of desperation get the better of him. He liked taking his time with you – it allowed him to stay with you longer under the pretence of simply looking for pleasure. He watched you, your every move – your body was covered in purple and blue, in blemishes and marks he’d created, his love blossoming on your skin. Your face was contorted, seemingly struggling, longing simply for relief, for more than Hyunjin was giving you now. His lips grazing your skin, moving closer and some more to your core only to pull away, to let his hands wander upon your body and lay his kisses onto tummy or thighs. You chased after every touch, body moving wherever his hands met, arching and pleading. Your hands helpless – you didn’t dare touch him, because you deemed it too intimate. He would turn real if your hands caressed him the same way his ones did, and you felt far too weak to contain yourself from falling under his spell fully, if he only felt attainable. You let a conscious distance, to save yourself, to save your heart – you wondered if it was all too late entirely.

It felt like salvation. You had almost lost hope, had almost started begging and pleading for relief when suddenly you felt it, Hyunjin’s lips on your core, testing waters. Giving kitten licks only to sensitive clit, soft tongue against wetness. It was far too little to what you needed, what you had begged off him for the past half hour you had lay before him, yet the little pleasure he granted, teasing and edging and mean, was enough already after all to send you through insanity. It made you want more while fighting oversensitivity, it had you pleading for his body while the tip of his tongue alone was far too much to bear. You wanted him entirely while having him excessively.

And Hyunjin wanted you to have him, wanted to be yours. Near impossible to resist your wishes he gave in, after all, despite wanting to drag this affair out, to lay with you until late morning hours, side by side throughout hours of dark. He dove in, mouth now lapping onto you, barely capable to contain his own urges – your smell was enticing, your taste more so, the way you felt beneath his touch made Hyunjin forget all about his very being, the bare purpose he walked this planet for; to lure in helpless humans, to sing prettiest melodies and eat them alive. He forgot all about it when his tongue licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, his groan vibrating through you, the tune of his voice intoxicating you. He forgot all about it when his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, drawing blue bruises, when his mouth sucked onto your sensitivity, when he kissed around your core, when he returned to your entrance, tip of his tongue prodding against. When your fingers found his wettened hair, entangling into it, fiddling with strands, pulling at his scalp and his head closer, drawing pain he moaned at. He forgot all about himself in you, and it scared him. Hopelessness like this, not less about a human like you was foreign to his kind, his species, and he wondered if he was twisted. If maybe not true to his nature at all, too weak and foolish to be a creature of seduction, the very embodiment of lust.

Though he couldn’t mind, not with you beneath him, not now. You were writhing underneath his touch, muttering his name in whines and whimpers. His mouth’s ministrations never halted, never stopped on your cunt – he made you soak in arousal, his tongue back on your clit and two of his digits teasing at your hole. Your hips rutted against him, careless of the way you shoved him deeper into you. He enjoyed it, you were aware – Hyunjin was neither scared nor incapable of holding down your hips to keep you still, to have his way with you, yet you learned he enjoyed feeling you fuck yourself against him on occasion, rutting and grinding your pussy against him to your liking, using him as nothing more than a tool for your pleasure. He enjoyed your desperation, your visible frustration – it was teasing malice under pretence of permitted control.

His fingers entered you with no resistance, wetness gushing out of you, your back arching into him, feeling a portion of possible pleasure with the curve of his hand, the pressure of his palm against your pubis. He kept a steady pace while rising to your chest, lips kissing wherever they lay, nibbling on skin, teeth grazing hardened nipples. The pads of his fingers caressing the cushion within you, prodding against it, eliciting sounds of you he dreamed of in his sleeps. Your voice whiny, breathy, hushed.

“Please… Hyunjin.”

He wasn’t one to deny you – had once been though learned the pleasures of giving into you. He understood without much more, with two of your words, not more but a plea, a hopeless attempt at asking for more, asking for something, anything; asking for him. You would never say the words – I want you; I need more of you; I want this to last forever; Stay – and yet Hyunjin liked to pretend it was the meaning behind your begging, the very core of your longing, your craving for him. Liked to pretend for feeling naïve himself to wish upon you, upon a life with you. If he pretended you wanted him as much as he wanted you it eased his aching heart, his yearning soul. If he pretended, he could bear himself a little more, the pain that final reality brought upon.

You were close, Hyunjin could feel it. Your walls were clenching around him in spasms, your voice a higher pitch, your legs on verge of giving out – you pleaded, further and further, his thrusting continued, increased in speed, his palm coming in contact with your clit with every movement – and he pulled away. Watched and watched you intently, and denying you the bliss of orgasm right when you’d swear to be tasting it on your tongue, right when it was within fingers reach. You whined out, long and drawn out, frustrated. Hyunjin has taken what you needed most when you needed it most – an irony within itself, seemingly his entire persona; disappearing when you most wished for him, after giving you a mere taste of it.

His fingers left you, frantic suddenly, remaining patience of his vanished. One would not blame him – the way you stared him down, desperation laced beneath your eyes, your lips caught between your teeth, your hands clinging onto him, pulling him closer, legs caging him in; anyone in love would have fallen far deeper, and he was no exception. His heart swelling at a sheer look at you, your touch igniting fires within him, so very untypical, so very strange. Though he didn’t have enough time to overthink it – you pulled him in for a kiss, deep and passionate, breathless. He melted into you, your mouth a shore his waters collided with, pulling him deeper into you, turning him to an addict.

His erection – painful and abandoned – lay hard between your bodies, cold against your thigh, tip against your core when Hyunjin shifted. He grew impatient, his very own tedious ministrations on you having weakened him just as much, more so, you’d argue. He was leaking, pearly white cum dripping down the length of his shaft, painting his blue veins in white, making you salivate at the sight alone. You arched into him, back lifting from the grass beneath you slightly, enough for Hyunjin to hook his hand beneath it, to draw you closer. The other hand guiding his tip against your entrance, spreading his precum against your slit before nudging in, finally, entering you slowly, inch by inch. You were sensitive, spent after simply teasing, Hyunjin pent up, denied – both of you would last laughable seconds if you only lost an ounce of control, of carefully tended composure. Overwhelming pleasure flooding your bodies, two whimpers of desperation merging into one at sheer contact – none of you moved yet and both of you reduced to a hopeless mess, embarrassing if the circumstances were different. Right this moment, with Hyunjin’s body atop yours, with his tip teasing at your cervix and his hands holding a tight grip on your flesh neither of you was clear minded enough to care. Lost in the other, indulging in the sight, in the scent and feel of skin against skin, wettened, laced in water and sweat, dripping pearls grazing shoulders and tummies and plush thighs, cold water everywhere.

And Hyunjin started moving. Fluid motions against you typical for him, body moving in soft waves always, whether he was walking or fucking into you. His hips gave you no chance of catching your breath – you felt losing control of your body as his own swam against you, pulling out of you until the tip to enter you entirely again, deeply, deeper with every thrust. Dignity, control, coherence left you bit by bit, with every kiss Hyunjin granted against your temple, onto your neck, littering you with wettened paths of his lips on your skin. With every further second you drowned into him, deeper and with no return, sinking meters of depth he presented you. Your hips desperate, chasing his own, your hands homeless, searching for a leverage, for a steady place to stabilize.

And tears rolled down your cheeks, wet and thick, droplets of water against your skin. More tears with every of Hyunjin’s thrusts, with every additional kiss, with every time his palm pressed onto your body harsher, as though scared you’d slip away from underneath his touch. His hips stuttered at the sight of you – entirely water, him having made you, wetness on your body; behind your lids, on your lips, wetness on your cunt. He had lay you in waters entirely, having lulled you into his world, having made you his, and his mind reeled off any sense. He was obsessed with you, addicted hopelessly. His body spasming, two of his digits toying at your clit desperately – he wouldn’t be able to hold his orgasm out much longer so hoping you would reach yours.

Your legs tightening against his torso, your nails clawing into him, daring to draw blood, painting desperation onto his body, your face contorting into pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth agape, head fallen into your neck – and you came in gushing wetness around him, coating him in your release, fluttering around his length enough to pull release out of him in spurts of white, coating your walls, wetting you further. You were messes, both of you, panting, chests heaving up and down – and he stayed. Calming down from your orgasm and Hyunjin hadn’t disappeared. His lingering touch on your body, his lips remaining on your skin, your jaw and neck and shoulders, licking over the bruises he'd drawn onto you. He stayed to lick your mixed release off you, lapping up your essence, basking in your scent, the taste of you. And his heart clenched when it was time to leave, after all – though not with a last longing kiss against your lips, slow and drawn out; maybe you should keep hoping, maybe you shouldn’t quit seeing him by the lake day by day, after all.

@reianagarcia @mixtape-racha @bbyboychanyeol @artisticbirb @fire-08 @lxverss @unlikelysublimekryptonite @aiko0invalid @salfetkablog @saintriots @boi-bi-ahaha @summer3sworld @bangchans-angel @jenos-eye-smiles @alnex05 @imwithurmother @yangjeonginswifee @hydroyaksha @starlit-rin @channiesgoodgirl @lizzetmv @poody1608 @fandems @stanskzsstuff @cypher-girlx @kayleigh-28 @jetblackbelle @agnes-king @seoseoya @lipstickandloveletters @viviixlyy @hanjisungsgirl @having-an-internal-crisis-rn @es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky

@katsukis1wife

[pngjamie]

I yap about Forever + Falling with you

Forever being the end song to murder drones- and its lyrics being what they are

gives me the impression Murder Drones was a big love story about opening up and trust hidden under mounds of comedy and violence

And I dont mean that it ACTUALLY is, its more just.. a silly little feeling I get when i listen to it

Theres something about the song thats so... cozy? So like, softly spoken. A very hummable melody from one lover to another.

also falling with you, like what the fuck

never in my life have I felt a track was so carefully crafted- and prepared, carved out for two specific characters in one specific moment.

She made the choice to sacrifice herself- for him. In her eyes it was the end and if at the end of everything she could guarantee the life of one person it was going to be the one she loves, she didnt know what would be at the other end,

The thing is, he wanted to be there for her. Even when they're knocking on deaths door, he needs to be there.

Its like trust fall exercise, except the focus isnt on 'catch me' cause they'd never let the other fall,

its about making sure they dont fall when youre not looking. It hurts both parties, to crash without warning and to see the one you love fall

I *love* that they dont speak here. She looks to the side, shifting her glances before looking at him.

An unspoken guilt ridden apology.

The response he chooses?

forgiveness,

Even if the result of her actions hurt him- her intentions were good and meant to be entirely in favor of him

And in this moment, with their current history and with a yet to be seen future, he forgives her,

Cause at the very least, they're together again. He could save her.

And her look just, screams thank you to me.

Thank you for forgiving me, saving me-

for everything :) /ref

lighthearted preparation for whats to come :)

legitimately, what she says, reiterating herself "die mad bitch"

knowing theyre heading into the end of the world to prevent it?? Theyre going off to the fucking trenches together, key word this time being together

And then the horrible unexpected !

Uzi is ripped away from N, confronted with what her home has become, the universe is practically screaming at her to fix it, pushing her towards the end without mercy

But shes not doing it alone, she cant do it alone, not again, not this time

And he wouldnt let her

The universe could endlessly attempt to wield its cosmic grasp to push these two apart but itd never work, itd never end with them alone

Their love- their pure devotion to each other,

is so celestial in its own right

Not super related to my ramble but i love that in them becoming official (I will not call this a confession, N definitely confessed the previous episode)

Uzis so.. wagh.. her eyes.

That trademark look of panic or worry- I mean what would you expect from the black sheep of the colony? Being excluded on the daily, left to your own abandoned devices?? The reassurance she was requesting just, ughh.. my heart...

and the way. He fucking looks at her

Its so, soft. He knows she has not a thing to worry about. His heart is completely and utterly hers. Where most would die for their love, he lives for her.

The universe would be dammed to ever try and separate pure unbridled love like this ever again

ERM< ANYWAY that was super gay ew idk why im like. obsessed with their relatinshuio ahhajfhdgjbsjhfm someone blow me up

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

Instant Gratification

Written alongside the amazingly talented @icebound-imagination

Made with encouragement from @puck-luck

Prompt: You need some instant gratification.

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral receiving, soft sex, dominant guy submissive girl. Proceed with caution.

PART ONE       PART TWO       PART THREE      PART FOUR

PART FOUR

He pulls back only far enough for you to hear his response. “No. You know the rules, you get to cum when I say you can.” “But - I can't,” you whimpered.

“One more minute baby you can do it. Be a good girl for daddy.” As he pressed the showerhead even more on your clit which you didn’t even think was possible. 

You looked down, a whimpering mess, and it all went straight to Quinn’s cock. He finally decided to take mercy on you. “Okay baby girl go ahead.” he said as he removed the shower head again and dived back into your folds. He was sucking as hard as he possibly could on your clit as you grinded down on his face. A string of curse words leaving your mouth as you cried out in pleasure. 

Your body went limp back against the shower wall, the wall was cooling and not helping the nerves in your body being on overdrive. It took the rest of your energy to glance down as Quinn slowly pulled away. Your eyes locked onto his cock, the wet pink tip oozing precum from being neglected so long. Quinn reached behind you to put the showerhead back in its place. Slowly moving behind you, his cock pushing against your folds. You whimpered in pain, overstimulation was close if not already there, and you both knew it. 

“Quinn i- i don’t know if i can.” you whispered. 

“Come on… please baby one more and then we can nap.” He asked as he wrapped his arms around your stomach, kissing down your neck at the fresh hickies still forming from the coach earlier. 

The feeling of Quinn holding you, and the idea of pushing him to the edge one more time is ultimately what makes you nod your head yes. Quinn kisses your cheek softly as he slowly enters from behind. Both of you wincing, from the tightness of your pussy. 

“Fuck even after all that, your still so goddamn tight for me.” As his head rests on your shoulder, as you get used to feeling full again. “Fuck you always feel so ready and tight for me.” As he kisses your shoulder. 

This feels different then everything from before. Before it was about lust and chasing a high as quickly as possible. No this, this was intimate, close, this was one of the reasons you fell for Quinn in the first place. Quinn was someone who really knew how to show his love through every aspect of life. This was another example of Quinn showing his love to you. Your hands and head went to fall against the shower wall in front you, eyes closed enjoying the closeness of Quinn behind you. 

Quinn felt your body finally relax and started pumping slowly in and out of you. He slowly started picking up the pace as he let himself go in the moment. 

“Ahh fuck huggy im close.” you moan as his hand not gripping your hip goes to make soft circles on your clit. His mouth goes all over your neck and shoulder leaving wet soft kisses behind. 

“Me too baby, your doing so good for me, fuck” He mumbles his hand leaves your hip and goes to play with the nipple of your right boob. 

All that can be heard is soft moans, and skin slapping as you both are slowly approaching your climaxes. You can feel Quinns thrusts becoming messier as he becomes closer to his climax which only results in your core pulsing. 

“Okay baby it’s okay let go i'm right behind you.” as he starts slowly sucking your neck and you let go with a soft groan tightening your core. That’s all it takes for Quinn to softly explode in you. Once you and Quinn calm down from your high he pulls out and you whimper from the feeling of full being gone. 

“You did so good, baby let’s get you cleaned up and take that nap I promised you.” as he softly turns you around and kisses you on the lips. You look up at Quinn looking completely fucked out, your legs feel like jelly at this point. 

“Okay Quinny.” As he softly starts helping clean you off and soap your body with your favorite body wash. 

“Do you want me to wash your hair baby?” he asks once he’s down helping you rinse off, and washing his own body with your help. 

“No, I just wanna go back to bed. I washed my hair last night” you say as you reach for the knob to turn the shower off. 

“Okay baby let’s go back to bed.” as he reaches for towels to dry both of yourselves off. Once you make it back to your room, you both change into sweats and you steal one of Quinn’s hoodies as you both climb into bed. You glance at your phone to see the time and start to chuckle to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” Quinn asks as he lifts his head from your stomach where you were playing with his hair with your other hand. 

“Quinny it’s only 10 AM!” you say with pure shock and also a hint of laughter. 

“Yeah well you're the one who came and found me while I was trying to eat breakfast.” He says as he snuggles deeper into you. 

“Oh shut up you love it when I come to you horny.” you say as you put your phone back on the nightstand. Quinn gets on his knees so he can lay back down and be on the same level as you. 

“I love every part of you baby forever and always.” as you both snuggle deeper into each other and you're almost completely asleep when you hear Quinn's voice.

“Hey you know since it’s so early once we wake up we can always go for round 2.” As he snuggles deeper into your neck and you can practically hear the smirk in his voice. Your hands find his curls to play with as a  light chuckle leaves your lips.

“Round 2? You mean like round 4?” you say with a light laugh leaving your lips, eyes still closed the tiredness from everything finally catching up to you.

“I mean…” his voice going an octave high then it was previously “Same thing right baby.” he says removing himself from your neck momentarily so that he can look down at you. You open your eyes from the feeling of him moving to see a wide grin on his face.

“We’ll see about that big shot.” you say as you both lean in for a quick peck. Finally settling down and falling asleep in each other's arms, exhaustion finally catching up to both of you.

[dearmantis]

Dried Flowers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Reader

Summary: After killing another person who tried to earn your hand in marriage, Aleksander finally manages to get you right where he has always wanted you.

Warning: murder, slut-shaming, blood, obsession, manipulation, dacryphilia (kind of? not sexual, he's just weird about tears??)

Word Count: 2k

Authors' Note: My ability to form sentences in English is slowly disappearing. What is grammar? I don't know anymore. What is logic? I don't know that either. I think I know nothing at all, actually. I also didn't proofread this at all and this isn't my native language, just fyi.

The blood tints the water a beautiful rose colour, similar to the petals of a flower Aleksander has seen you wear in your hair a few days ago.

He's washing his hands slowly, making sure to get every single drop off using the strongest smelling soap he owns in hopes of removing the metallic smell from his skin and a small brush to get the dried flakes out from under his nails.

His gaze moves over to the mirror, checking his shirt for blood splatter in the reflection, but he luckily finds nothing. There are some drops on his face, the red covering his cheek, nose, and parts of his forehead.

He has licked the ones that landed on his lips off a while ago, enjoying the taste of it like an expensive wine as he watched the man bleed out on the floor, his blood forming a small puddle beneath his body while his weak voice begged for mercy.

When he's sure that he got everything off his hands, he grabs a small handkerchief and dips it into the water before using it to remove the blood from his face. He has no time to waste, but he wants to make sure he looks right nonetheless.

In an hour, you will realize that your Lord Peter will not come to your planned shared breakfast. You will send servants to his room to check on him and they will discover the letter he forged, explaining how the Lord wanted to use you as a distraction after falling for a young woman in Ketterdam during his travels and recently decided that he loves her too much to stay away from her any longer.

It will break your heart, but sacrifices must be made, and breaking your heart now would be better than breaking it later after you truly lost your heart to him.

It was a shame, really. Lord Peter had been nice, one of the few nobles in Ravka who did not openly talk badly about Grisha, but Aleksander still couldn't let you marry him. No, you had to stay here, right in the Grand Palace, and Peter would've dragged you to his estate close to the border, never to be seen again.

And Aleksander needs you here. You can't leave. Ever.

After the blood is fully washed off his face he washes the handkerchief and places it on the windowsill to dry in the rising morning sun before opening the window and moving to dump the bloody water into the bed of flowers growing below.

Then he sits back down at his desk and moves to continue with todays paperwork while he waits, patient like a cat that knows that the little mouse will walk right into its mouth.

An hour later you are sitting on his lap, hands tightly holding onto his kefta while he uses the handkerchief he used to remove the blood from his face to dry your tears, carefully dabbing the soft, freshly washed fabric against your skin.

"I just don't understand why this keeps happening." He hears you whisper under your breath, his eyes still focused on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You look so beautiful when you cry. Ethereal. Magical. "Why am I never enough? Why not?"

He can feel a painful pinch in his heart when he hears your words. It's not you who isn't good enough for them. They aren't good enough for you.

You, his beautiful little Princess who boldly stands up for his Grisha and gets harassed with horrible rumours in return. Who gets shamed and threatened and withstands it all despite your softness, like a wild flower surviving the most destructive storms.

"She's under the Darklings spell."

"Nobody wants to marry her except the General and now she defends him to make sure he doesn't loose interest."

"The poor girl is being manipulated by him. He uses her as a shield to protect the Grisha and the stupid thing is too blind to see it."

"He must've fucked his magic into her and it scrambled her mind."

So much gossip surrounds you, but you never complain. You don't even mention what they say about you, probably fearing that he will distance himself from you as well after finding out how people talk about you. That the last friend you have left will leave, unwilling to have his reputation ruined even more.

But he would never leave you. In Aleksanders eyes, you're the only honourable otkazat'sya currently alive in all of Ravka. He will do everything in his power to make sure you stay right here with him and influence politics further. You're a sensible person. Good. Kind. And you work hard to make sure people understand and respect the way you see the world. You fight for change.

So you have to stay right here with him.

"You're more than enough." He answers softly, dropping the handkerchief onto the sofa next to you before his hands move up to cup your face, making sure you're looking him in the face and see the truth in his eyes.

"You are so much better than anyone in Ravka understands. You have a soft, caring heart, and those who do not understand it see it as weakness. But I understand. I understand your strength."

Every single word that falls from his lips is calculated, his voice soft and kind in hopes of making you more susceptible to him.

"And you understand me. You understand how I see the world. What needs to change to make sure Grisha and otkazat'sya can live together in peace. You are perfect."

You don't understand him, not yet, at least, but you will. He will make sure of it. You will understand it all. His little flower.

He lets his hands move down to your waist, and your head immediately drops to rest on his shoulder, your face pressing into his neck.

"Why can't I just marry you..." Aleksander hears you murmur, almost entirely soundless, and he has to fight the smirk trying to find its way onto his lips.

"What was that?"

An embarrassed whimper leaves your lips, a sweet, pathetic sound that he would love to hear forever. "Forget it."

"No, no. Come on, don't be shy." Aleksander encourages, carefully drawing circles on your back while you press your face closer to his neck.

"It's stupid."

The Shadow Summoner doesn't respond, instead choosing to simply wait until you manage to collect enough confidence to repeat and explain yourself. You need to make this step on your own.

"My father will not stop until I'm married. He will continue to set me up with new people in hopes of marrying me off to get me out of the Palace."

You lift your head to look into his face, probably fearing that he won't understand you if you keep whispering against his neck, forcing you to repeat this whole thing a third time.

"And the people he chooses will continue to run away from me. Even the nicest people leave me behind and instead pick a different fate for themselves. For some reason, everyone seems to agree that marrying me is not worth it, a destiny too cruel to live through. No one ever stays with me. No one except you."

New tears sparkle in your eyes, and Aleksander decides it's the most beautiful sight he has ever had the privilege of witnessing. When you cry, all of your emotions are so visible in your eyes. You hide nothing, the mask that all nobles in Ravka wear washed away by the tears rolling down your face. The fact that you trust him to see all of your vulnerability and weakness fills him with glee.

"So I thought that maybe... maybe it would be an option for us to marry."

Before Aleksander gets the chance to respond, you begin talking once more, making it clear to him that you will probably start rambling.

"Of course, that's stupid. We're friends, and I really don't want to ruin this, and I know that I just did that by mentioning that I think we should marry, and I'm really sorry. It's pathetic and honestly disrespectful to you to ask you to marry me just because I'm sick of being alone and I'm pretty sure my father wouldn't even allow it so we would have to do it in secret which isn't fair to you and I-"

He cuts you off by carefully touching your face once more, willing his gaze to soften. He needs to at least pretend to be vulnerable right now to fully get you where he wants you to be.

"It would be an honour to marry you, moya tsarevna. It doesn't matter if in secret or in front of all of Ravka. You are my best friend, and it would be a privilege to be tied to you legally and free you from this constant pain of losing every person you get close to in the same breath."

Leaning forward, he presses his forehead against yours, hoping that the physical proximity will make him seem more honest than he truly is.

"But I don't want you to marry me just because you fear that you will end up alone. I want you to decide for yourself that you want a future with me. One where we can fight side by side for Grisha and Otkazat'sya to live in harmony."

He would marry you right now if you simply ask him. It's the ideal end to his plan, after all. If you were married to him, he wouldn't have to keep killing all of your friends and possible marriage candidates because you would already be tied to him and the Little Palace. You could never leave. You would be here with him forever.

Or, well... until you died from old age. But that's a problem he can solve, he's sure of it. He will make sure his little flower will live on and continue fighting with him. You're part of this eternal battle now, and he will not let you escape it though something like death.

It really doesn't matter why you want to marry him, but it would make the future easier for him and yourself if you simply learned to love him romantically. You'd also probably be more likely to forgive him for the more controversial ideas he has if your heart is full with love for him. As much as he wants to grab you and drag you over to a church to get it over with, he needs to be patient.

The end is in sight, there is no reason to rush things and risk mistakes later. This is the foundation for a bright future.

The worst thing that could happen is that you choose to wait and get to know another Lord who your father wants you to marry.

Another person for Aleksander to kill.

And then, when his dead body slowly starts to decompose in the flowerbeds of the Little Palace alongside the other people he has killed for this, you will find your way back into his arms for comfort and decide that you will marry him. There's no reason to force you to marry him now.

"I would love to be married to you, General. It would be an honour for me as well. You are a great general and an even greater man. I respect you more than anyone else. I promise it's not just because I fear to disappoint my family and end up alone. I have always admired your protective and caring nature, and I genuinely believe that you could be a great husband. One that I can easily love."

He moves your face back to the crook of his neck, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing you tightly against his body. He can't hide the wide grin on his face.

The mouse walked into the cats open mouth. You are his.

[cheolhub]

NEEDY — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. wonwoo can’t keep his hands to himself because he needs your full, undivided attention.

wc. 1.08k

warnings. jealous sub!wonu, dom!reader, multiple orgasms (m.), handjob, heavy praise, light degradation (wonwoo gets called a slut), pet names, tears &lt;3 — MINORS DNI 18+

note. 2 months ago i asked what sub!idol u wanted me to write and wonwoo’s name appeared, so here it is >< better late than never— thank u to @gyuswhore for offering to beta-read this and easing my nerves mwahhh <3

“baby, please…i-i can’t take anymore!” wonwoo begs for mercy as you pump his cum covered cock teasingly.

“aww, but you kept asking me for this, didn’t you, baby?” you coo condescendingly with a faux pout etched into your lips. “just kept bugging me while we were out with our friends, isn’t that right?”

he stumbles over his words, stuttering out, “i-i-i was just… i just—“

“you were just what? being a needy slut? just wanted my attention?” you grit out, squeezing him harder in your hand. “now ‘m giving you all these orgasms and you’re being so mean to me… can’t even say thank you?”

wonwoo was being a needy slut. needier than you’d ever seen him. normally, he was reserved, keeping pda to a minimum, but today… today he kept trying to feel you up every chance he could, kept trying to kiss any and all exposed parts of you, kept trying to steal your attention away from whoever you were talking to. 

you tried to ask what was wrong, but he’d just shrug indifferently and it irked you. when you went back to your conversation with seokmin and mingyu, he’d just do the same thing over. and over… and over. 

you eventually grew sick of his begging, parting with your friends and going back to your apartment where you were now. you’d sat him on the edge of the bed and immediately got to work on him, pulling orgasm after orgasm till he had tears in his eyes begging you to stop.

“n-no! thank you! thank you, baby,” he gasps. “i’m sorry–”

you laugh at his desperation, hand continuing to languidly stroke his flushed, hard length, “what are you sorry for, pretty boy, hm? which part of tonight are you apologizing for?”

he whimpers, hips raising a bit, but your free hand quickly slaps his thigh causing his hips to fall and a soft ‘ah!’ to leave his mouth. 

you pout, “wonu… you’re being so bad today…maybe i should stop–” 

he lets out a frenzied cry, sensitive cock twitching uncontrollably the second your hand stops working him. “don’t! please, ‘m sorry– sorry for getting jealous, sorry for being needy, sorry for everything. please, please don’t stop.”

he’s well aware of how overstimulated he is and you are too. it’s not hard to miss with the tears running down his flushed face and how he’s jerking at the slightest touch. the thing is, wonwoo has something to prove. he needs to cum for you again and he needs to give you everything he’s got. 

you murmur, “aw, baby… jealous? of seokmin and mingyu? that’s what had you trying to fuck me while we were out?”

he nods again, “just wanted your attention…” he mumbles through pursed lips.

his words have your heart clenching, hand coming back to stroke his messy cock. at the return, he gasps, bottom lip finding sanctum between his teeth to stop the embarrassing noises from drooling past them.

you lean in to press your lips against his sharp jaw, “you’re so cute, baby, why didn’t you just tell me?” you mutter in between your kisses. 

his eyes flutter close and he whispers, “‘m sorry.”

you whisper back, hand resuming its previous speed. “don’t be…” 

he whines out your name, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. with his jaw going slack, all of his pretty noises fill the room again and you can’t help but giggle. you quickly maneuver yourself to straddle his lap, fisting him hastily.

he chokes on a sob, his face falling into your clothed chest in attempts to muffle his moans. his hands grasp at the bed sheets, pawing at that white, ruffled fabric. 

“don’t hide, pretty baby,” you tell him sultrily. “tell me how good i‘m making you feel? who’s making my good boy feel good?”

he peers up at you with his glassy, brown eyes while you continue your assault on his dick in between your two bodies. “y-you are… you’re makin’ me feel… makin’ me feel so good, Y/N.” 

“yeah?” you pant, pussy soaking through the denim of your jeans at this point. “i’m making you feel good? gonna cum again?” 

“yes! god, please let me…

you smile, voice just barely above a whisper, “do it, baby. cum for me, hm?” 

and as if he were hanging on to the end of every one of your words, his body jerks, dick twitching in your tight grip. his cum weakly spurts from his cock and joins the other loads on your hand and his thighs while he lets out a broken cry. 

“thank you, thank you, thank you– fuck! thank you!” he sobs, eyes rolling again and mouth hanging open to let his various babbles out. 

and he looks so perfect. so messy and brainless, yet so fucking pretty that it’s causing yet another wave of arousal to soak through your panties and jeans. 

you moan out more praise, leaning in to pepper kisses all over his face while he comes down from what feels like his 10th orgasm, though it’s only his third. 

“s’good for me, won. did so well, you know that?” you whisper, finally pulling your hand away from his ruined cock. “ do you feel okay? are you tired?”

he shudders, “‘m-m okay,” he nods, but his slurred words are proof that he is, in fact, tired. 

you laugh softly, free hand coming up to mess with the bangs that are matting against his forehead. “you are tired, baby. c’mon… let’s go shower and we can go to be–” 

“n-no… wanna–… what about you?”

“what about me, baby?” you coo, though you know exactly what he’s talking about. it’s the dull ache in your cunt that so desperately needs to be touched… or eaten… or fucked.

his eyes pleading, like he’s begging you with the mere look on his face. “want you to feel good, too.” 

“you already came, though, pretty boy,” you remind him. “it’s okay– hey!” 

he uses his last strength to flip you over onto the bed, pulling a surprised yelp from your mouth. “no.” he says sternly. “i-i’m gonna make you feel good.” he says, before getting on his knees between your legs, nimble fingers popping the button of your jeans. 

you’re a bit breathless at the sudden change in his behavior and the fact that your heart is just about to lurch out of your chest. “but–”

“no, buts. i’m returning the favor.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[macravishedbymactavish]

First "I love you" (TF141 x GN!Reader Headcanons)

Since I literally can't focus on writing the series I have started, have some headcanons instead

TW: Swearing, typical COD violence and themes (mild spoilers in Price's bit), some clichè themes

Blog HQ

Ghost

Saying I love you...

You told him the first time he returned to your shared home following deployment

Sure the two of you had been together for a fair while before this, but its the first time you were alone in your shared space. It was the first time you really felt how empty home was without him.

You didn't want to distract him prior to leaving for the mission, so you whispered those 3 little words to him mid-kiss when he was home with you.

Heart full, and the breath you didn't realize you were holding all this time released. He was back in your arms. Your home was back with you.

Hearing I love you...

As with the other headcanons I write, I'm a firm believer that Simon isn't as emotionally unavailable or closed off due to past trauma as much as so much time in solitude. The last meaningful connection he had ended not the greatest, so he wasn't keen on seeking this out. It's been a while, our man is pretty uneducated in the modern romance department.

With his "lack of experience due to time alone" he is honestly a bit overwhelmed and terrified of this. He loves you, all of his heart. He loves you with the same amount of his heart as he loved them.

Sure, it's a different love altogether (familial vs romantic), but the feelings are overwhelming no less.

He clearly doesn't say it back right away (even though God he wants to). He wants to make sure he means it and portrays just how much he means it before diving right in. He wants it to be as close to perfect for you as possible.

Surprisingly, the perfect moment comes when you're falling asleep one night. You're snuggled into his chest, warm, content. Mumble a soft I love you, Simon.

His response comes naturally, a soft I love you too whispered into the darkness. Then everything just seemed to fall into place.

That night was the best sleep either of you ever had.

Gaz

Saying I love you...

I feel like with Kyle it would happen at the exact same time. Like....literally the same time. So imma just:

Saying I love you/Hearing I love you...

It would definitely come when the two of you are most comfortable around one another. Probably during a lazy night at home.

Cooking together perhaps? Little bit of teamwork, mixed with teasing comments and stolen kisses as you manuever around one another.

Or maybe playing video games (cozy couch co-op or fiercely competitive. No inbetween. Take your pick).

Flip side of the coin: you're getting wound down from a night out. Stripping out of the stupid fancy clothes you decided were a good idea to wear out. Spoiler: it wasn't a good idea. Next time let's do something more casual.

No matter what the situation is, you're doing it together and your hearts couldn't be fuller. Happily in the apartment you two share, just enjoying one another.

"I could live like this forever without complaint" you'd start, smiling over at him (even if he beat your ass at whatever game you were playing with no mercy)

"Didn't know I was dating an immortal" he'd tease back. "Share your secrets with me"

"No!"

"Why not????"

"I simply cannot share my secrets with a doof like you"

Your play argument ending in him trying to tickle you, or play wrestle you, or just anything that results in the two of you (INNOCENTLY) tangled up together. Like super clichè looking into the others eyes as you lay/sit there. Lost in the moment and realizing it's no longer "I like like you" but rather:

"I love you"

Said, by the two of you, at the exact same time.

Queue laughter, shared kisses and full hearts.

Soap

Saying I love you...

My mind automatically went to lost on a road trip trope. Like you two would plan out an entire day, wanting to visit the spot you two would hang out at all the time pre-relationship.

Except you're both too distracted by conversation and jamming to whatever playlist you had in the background to realize: your turn is well into the rear view.

By the time he realizes he's now driving on roads he doesn't recognize, it's too late. You're pretty far out of the way, and the clouds in the sky don't look super promising.

"T'hell with it! We have our lunch here" he'd propose, finding a small hill in the distance. "Our new spot™️"

So that'd exactly what you do. An improvised little lunch, in your new trademarked spot.

It was after lunch, when you both were full and ready for a food coma. You don't know what overtook you to say it. You didn't even realize you were saying it until his eyes dialted and a small smirk crossed his lips.

"You love me, aye?"

Hearing I love you...

He would have no hesitation saying it back, except for you playfully smacking him while yelling his name.

He'd be so in shock that someone as lovely as you would feel that way toward someone like him.

You!! Loving him!!

The next time he'd try to say it back, it would be interrupted by thunder in the distance, and the urgency to start packing up your things and getting home before too long.

It was when you make the journey from the vehicle to the house through the pouring rain when he decided now was the time. Watching you laugh, try and fail to keep yourself dry that it came out.

"I love you too"

"That's nice. But it's raining fucking hard so can we go inside and be cute after?"

You two were 100% cute inside after that. Lots of "I love yous" shared back and forth that night.

Price

Saying I love you...

Hear me out though, what if it were you captured with Kate (in that one mission, the one that solidified that Gaz shouldn't be in aircrafts anymore).

No matter how you feel in that moment (terrified, oddly calm, pissed to high hell) one thought would be in the front of your mind:

You've never said I love you.

Sure, you've told him the various things that you love about him. But never told him straight out that you love him in his entirety.

So as you sit, guns pointed at you. Ready to cause harm and death if needed. You find yourself reflecting on your relationship.

The ups, the downs, the victories and hardships. The way that you used to find his overbearing nature to be insufferable at times...you're now viewing it in a new light.

Maybe that's just because you're standing on death's doorstep wondering if he's going to answer today.

The crash, the chaos. You truly wonder if it's the end. Until you're pulled away from eternities grasp and brought back to reality. Face to face with your boyfriend who is clearly fighting back his own emotions. Still convincing himself that you're alive.

"I love you, John" comes out so naturally as you launch yourself at him. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his gear pressing into you. He was here, he had you.

Hearing I love you...

John would 110% be beside himself. Trying to figure out how he let this happen, concerned that he won't get to you in time, letting his mind run wild with worse case scenarios.

Whether you work in the military or not -- you were never supposed to be in this type of situation.

Getting the call that you were MIA and now a POW caused his heart to stop. To grow a shade colder as he reminded himself he needs to breathe.

Won't do you a whole lot of good if he's passed out.

While he wants to call the shots and lead the charge to get you back safe, he does step back and let his teammates take point. Considering it's a glaring conflict of interest for him to be there, captain or not.

The entire time they're fighting to get to you, all he can think of is how this is inadvertently his fault. Running through everything to figure out where he went wrong. Where did he slack off? What could he have done differently?

He also vowed in this moment to keep you safe for the rest of your lives. Even if you hated him, if you never wanted to see him again because of this. He would never, ever anything like this happen to you again.

When they finally reach the front of the convoy, he's ready to pass out or punch someone out if they don't move out of his way. Much like a mama bear and her cub, you don't get between John and his love in this moment.

His team makes quick work of the enemies, as he approaches one of the doors. Heart hammering inside his chest, hands shaking slightly as tears burn the back of his eyes. Pleading to anyone listening that you be alive.

When you barreled into him and whispered those words to him he could've fallen over. His legs almost not supporting him. You were alive, you love him. You were alive. You love him. He repeated this over in his head as he held you close.

Whispering the words back, cursing himself for how his voice broke halfway through.

You were alive. You love him.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[mskenway97]

Well this scenario is more for self indultent but I wanted to do it. Seeing the problem of the language barrier, I created this which has partly angst and fluff moment….

You were feeling so lost, you have nothing left…. You don't remember the last time you saw your home or the sunlight. For years you have been a simple laboratory guinea pig, a toy for some beings with red optics…

Until now other beings but with blue optics took you elsewhere. They had been taking care of you, healing your wounds, you didn't understand what they were saying, nor why they had been taking care of you.

You were alone in a corner missing everything you lost, you were literally at their mercy, what could you expect?

Until a door opened noisily, a metallic blue optics giant was looking for you to see you were in the corner.

Surely he had already sentenced your fate? The experiments that the red optic beings did to you…

What was going to crush you? Play on your fear until he smiled happily?

You closed your eyes when you saw a giant servo coming towards you, touching its digit to your cheek… It was caressing you?

You moved away instinctively but that giant robot did not move away from you.

It was trying to talk to you, in a… soft and sweet way? But you didn't understand anything, although it was comforting in comparison to what the anothers did to you

He pulled you into his arms close to his chest to feel a buzzing like a heartbeat, giving you the peace you had been looking for for years. You felt partly warmth and snuggled in, you saw a small smile on that giant robot.

He knows what you suffered, what you lost…. You were a victim. You end in his world. Innocent, fragile...

He saw you close your eyes and fall asleep.

He swore he would protect you and give you everything you needed….

Maybe it was what you both needed.

[cinnasweetss]

karmic lover | p.wb

SYNOPSIS: in which you come to wonbin as a karmic lover for all he's done, and continues to do, to julie. now he's forced to imagine you in her place.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: wonbin is the biggest dick on the planet (has the biggest one too), wonbin is in a relationship with julie, oral (m receiving), protected sex, mentions of cheating, reader is not actually involved just mentioned, wonbin is delusional as hell, mentions of wonbin taking readers virginity, other shit I know I'm forgetting to add.

A/N: I can definitely expand on this if need be...I actually just cut this part out of a whole fic I wrote and it made it into a standalone. lollll.

every day, around the clock, even in his dreams, you're all park wonbin can think about. the park wonbin who's known to be the campus' resident dick. literally and figuratively. known cheater and manipulator. especially when it comes to julie.

which is why he's been ignoring her, minus the fact they're supposed to be taking time away from each other.

julie comes in using the key that is for emergencies only. the key that wonbin should've given to sungchan instead. he'll have to get those locks changed eventually.

"Why haven't you answered my texts?" wonbin is everything but happy to see her. wishing she'd go away until he gets the feelings he has for you to go away. "We broke up." it's an exaggeration that makes julie roll her eyes. taking a break and breaking up are two different things. to her at least.

"Won..." she says, inching closer to wrap her arms around his torso. "let's make up, hm? you said you wouldn't do it anymore...I believe you." except he has, he never stopped. doesn't really plan on it either, he knows he only has to swear he'll never do it again for julie to fall right back in his lap. "Hm?"

he only does it because he thinks it'll help him stop thinking about you, that's all it is. that's why he kisses her, caressing her cheek like he did yours. making her get on her knees so he can imagine its you instead. imagine its you pulling him out of his sweats, you pushing his half hard cock past your lips that haven't touched any others but his. you that works and sucks his cock like its the last on earth.

he can imagine it, vividly, just as soon as he shuts his eyes. if he can't see her, he can imagine its you instead. it is you, its you choking on his length as he pushes it past your throat, you gagging around him so much it feels euphoric. he grabs your head, pushing your nose to his navel as he jams into your throat with no mercy. You try and push him away, give yourself room to breathe, but he won't let up.

not when he realizes its julie instead of the woman he wants it to be.

he pulls out of her mouth, pulling her over to his bedroom just a few feet away, and shoving her on his bed. the bed where he had you just a few nights before. writhing and squirming underneath him as he took your innocence.

he rips her out of her clothes, pulling her out her matching set that he didnt waste a single second looking at. a matching set that you wouldn't even put on. its quick, flipping her over so she bares her ass at him, and reaching in his nightstand to pull a condom on.

he needs to move quick, keep you in his head before he realises its julie, before he has a chance to get soft. he stuffs himself in her without a word. "Bin!" she cries, back arching just the way he likes it, back arching to where he can easily grab ahold of her hips and jam his cock into her. "missed this pussy...so much." it's for you, but it's okay if she hears it because right now she is you. he's able to slip back into imagining its you, and its so real.

"fuck, y/- julie. shit. just like that." her name tastes bitter in his mouth even though he's said it many of times before he met you. "baby! oh, god!" she's so oblivious wonbin feels a little bad for her. but not for long. only because her continuous outburst are pulling him from his fantasy.

he has to bend down and place his hand over his mouth to quiet her because she sounds nothing like you. this way he can ignore the muffled moans as he continues to use her. using her to get himself off because he can't have you. you're supposed to stay the girl he cheated on his girlfriend with. nothing more. you're not supposed to take Julie's place.

[redroomreflections]

It’s Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Notes: obviously it’s April but I’m bringing back one of my fav pieces of writing.

The Loud House AU is uploaded on a03 in all of its almost finished glory. Here

SMUT INSIDE - MINORS DNI

This Christmas was going to be different for you. You could tell from the constant snowfall just outside of your window. A blanket of snow covered the entire city just in time for the holiday. The Christmas spirit settled deep in your bones as you thought about how much fun you would have today. With the amount of planning and prepping you did it was a miracle that everything was actually falling into place. Briefly, you went over a mental checklist in your head. Your entire family was here. Each person is in their designated bed or couch. Presents were already under the tree labeled and wrapped. Cookies and milk sitting on the coffee table for Santa. Ones that you munched on to give off the illusion that he visited your house. It was a holiday just like you dreamed of as a kid. The one thing that would make this all better was…your wife. You missed her dearly. It never seemed like there was enough time between you two. This year has been busy and with the kids, work, animals, and everything it’s easy to get lost in things that aren’t each other. The ache in your chest becomes too much. You want Natasha.

You trail your fingers over to the few inches between you. She’s asleep on her side, facing away from you, with her legs angled up towards her stomach. You scoot so her legs are touching yours. You can feel the heat of her body you’re so close. All you want is to feel her. You bring your hand to her arm to trace the smooth skin and her response to your touch is immediate. You stretch your neck to plant a kiss against the back of hers before moving to kiss along her shoulder. Natasha shifts, her breathing no longer the even steadiness of sleep, as she awakens.

“What time is it?” She husks. You can feel the goosebumps on her arms as you continue your touches.

“Early,” You shrug even though she can’t see you. You don’t wait for protest as you wrap your arm around her stomach to pull her against you. She clearly likes your show of strength as a gasp leaves her lips. Her back is now pressed against your front. The curve of her ass fits so perfectly settled against your pelvis. She lets out a breath as you move your hand back to her arm. “It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas,” Natasha repeats. She’s quickly warming up to your advances as she not so subtly pushes her ass into you. She places her hand over yours only to direct your touches to another part of her body. Natasha is direct. She lets you know what she wants. She places your hand just above the waistband of her panties. They’re not anything special. Simple cotton with a thicker waistband but you can’t help how much they turn you on. Your left-hand taps her back and she lifts up for you to slide it under her body. You caress her breast, massaging the soft tissue, as she leans into you more. Her legs part automatically as soon as you push inside of her panties. Your fingers meet dark red curls. She’s not shaved and it’s just how you like it. There’s a shiver along her spine at the first touch of your fingers against her lips. You force her legs open more, positioning your knee under her right leg, leaving her completely open and at your mercy.

There’s not a sound in the room except your heavy breathing and her soft moans. No one needs to say anything you both know what you want. Your hand glides through her wetness with ease. She’s always ready and willing for you to take her. Whenever and however. There is something about the intimacy of this position. She’s facing away from you relying on you to bring her this pleasure. You’re not one to deny her. The tip of your finger circles her clit experimentally. The moan she elicits tells you you’re on the right track.

“Baby,” She moans into the pillow. “Don’t tease.”

“Never,” You promise her as you pull back just slightly to push her onto her back. You’ve changed your mind and want to see all of her. You want to see her face screwed up in pleasure. You want to see the way she bites her lips to keep from screaming out. You want to feel her utterly lost in the feeling of you as she cums. She leans back against the pillows as she lifts her hips to aid in taking off her underwear. You don’t toss the offending item too far in case the little ones wake up earlier than planned.

Natasha looks up at you expectantly with half-lidded eyes. Her chest heaves as she waits for you to do something. Anything. She looks so good like this. So sexy. All for you. Only for you. You can’t help but lean over her, not quite touching her, as you kiss her for the first time that morning. It’s slow, sweet, and a little bit filthy the way she sucks on your tongue. Morning breath be damned. Everything is moving so slowly despite the amount of time you actually have.

“They’re going to be up soon,” She nips at your bottom lip.

“Guess I better get to work then,” You kiss her one last time before moving down her body. You kiss along her clothed upper half, sucking a hardened nipple into your mouth. You give a soft bite as a parting gift before directing your kisses lower. You don’t wait, you don’t tease, and you certainly don’t half-ass it. Her legs part for you, as you settle onto your stomach under the covers, her hands gripping your head. The first lick against her slit causes her to moan. You raise your hand to use two fingers to keep her open. This time the moan she lets out is downright porn-ish. Her back arches as she hisses a quiet “yes,” into the air. You tongue along her clit, coaxing it out of its hood. You suck like it’s the last time you’ll ever do it and Natasha bites her lip to control her volume. You can feel the sleep fully leaving her body as she’s awakened by the new sensations.

“Yes, baby,” She cries just as you give her clit a particularly hard suck. She’s close. She doesn’t need much to come this time. You wrap your arm around her left leg to hold her down as you bring your other fingers to circle her entrance. You breach her hole with one finger thrusting inside experimentally before pulling back out. Natasha whimpers, trying to fight against your hold as she shivers again. “I need more,” She begs. On another thrust out, you add one more finger, pushing into her with a bit more resistance.

“Mhmm,” You moan at the taste of her sending vibrations through her core. You thrust in slowly allowing her to adjust. Finally, when you feel the way her legs shake with each touch against her walls, you speed up. You work overtime to bring her to the brink of pleasure as you suck her clit all the while torpedoing your tongue against the swollen bud. Her eyes fly closed and the grip on your hair tightens. You can feel the slight pain at the base of your neck but you ignore it.

“Look at me baby,” You pull away from her clit, stopping your movements, waiting for her to open her eyes. Natasha groans pulling herself together enough to look down at you. “Good,” You mumble to yourself as you return your lips to where she needs them most. This time your pace is brutal. You need to feel her clench around you. You press against the leg you’re holding to push it up towards her chest. She’s flexible and the move isn’t anything she hasn’t done before. This opens her up wider as you reach under her shirt to grab at her breast. You pinch at her nipple in tandem with the flicks of your tongue. You don’t move or give any firm touch. Just a tracing of your thumb against the edge but it brings her more pleasure. Your other hand continues to thrust inside of her at a pace that has her reeling. She clenches around you, a new gush of wetness coating your fingers, as she cries out over and over.

“Baby, I’m going to-” Natasha whines as she moves her hips against your fingers. She’s almost there you can feel it in the way she breathes, in her needy moans, and the way she’s gripping you. She just needs a bit more.

Before you can react and before she can even finish her sentence the door of your bedroom swings open and a small body catapults itself on your bed.

“It’s Christmas!” Your son mimics the exact words from earlier just as you push yourself under the covers further while letting go of Natasha’s leg. You reluctantly pull your fingers out of her and Natasha has the decency to hide her disappointed whine with a cough. If either of you moves any further he’s going to get an eyeful and you’d rather die. “Mama, it’s Christmas.” He cheers again and Natasha nods along with him.

“I know,” She mumbles as she tries to get her bearings. “James, baby, you didn’t wake up the others did you?” She asks and before he can give her an answer she’s met by the familiar pitter-patter of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s your older daughter. You can tell you’re both holding your breath in hopes that she didn’t bring the little one. Anything but the little one.

Natasha groans as she spots your struggling five-year-old as she carries her baby sister into your bedroom. The toddler practically weighs more than her as she holds her with one hand wrapped around her waist and the other between her legs to clasp her hands together. The toddler in question doesn’t look the least bit phased as her eyes light up upon seeing Natasha.

“Oh, Charlie, you really didn’t have to take Paige out of her crib,” Natasha says exasperatedly.

“It’s okay Mama, I’m big enough to do it,” Charlie comments as she grunts. She stands on the tips of her toes to push Paige onto the bed. “Where’s Mommy?” She walks around to Natasha’s side of the bed.

Natasha reaches to pinch you under the covers but she misses your intended shoulder and ends up with her nails in your cheek.

“Ouch,” You groan and all eyes fly to the lump under the covers.

“Mommy?” James pokes at your form. “What are you doing under there?”

“M-mommy is just playing hide and seek,” You attempt which piques his interest even more.

“Well, I wanna play too,” The three-year-old grabs at the edge of the cover attempting to climb under them.

“No!” Natasha’s protest is a bit louder than necessary startling the kids. At James’ pout and watering eyes, she tries again. “What I meant is that you need your own original hiding spot. It’s not fair to take someone else’s.” She tries and you breathe a sigh of relief at her quick thinking.

“Oh,” James sits back on his legs. He didn’t think of that.

“But why is Mommy hiding under there if you can find her?” Charlie's inquisitive nature isn’t helping you right now. “What were you doing?”. Both of you fumble for an answer. Meanwhile, Natasha tries to combat Paige’s wandering hands as the toddler climbs into her lap. It’s a tight fit that almost has you suffocating from your position under the covers. Totally not how you want to die.

“I know why,” Another voice joins in. Natasha yelps as she spots your oldest daughter, Cara, standing against the doorframe. Natasha almost forgot you had more. She sports a mischievous grin as she tilts her head. Natasha immediately shoots the thirteen-year-old a murderous look. Why oh why did you decide to have kids in the first place?

“Well, why?” Charlie turns to her sister. She blinks not quite understanding the silent conversation they’re having.

“I could tell you,” Cara shrugs. She pauses just for another second before turning and gesturing towards the door. “Or we could go downstairs and help Baba and Deda finish breakfast. Which is so much cooler than my explanation.”

“Pancakes?” James asks.

“Pancakes,” Cara confirms.

“I want,” James forgets you’re even there as he climbs over you, effectively managing to knee you in the back in his haste to go down the stairs. You groan in pain as you wait for his retreating footsteps.

“I wanna help too,” Charlie chases after her younger brother leaving Paige behind. Cara steps across the room, a disgusted look on her face, as she reaches to take the toddler in her arms.

“Mama,” Paige whines not wanting to be separated from her mother just yet.

“Thank you,” Natasha thanked her.

“No way, you two owe me, big time.” Cara shakes her head. “One of those gifts better be a new phone or else I’m telling everyone downstairs.”

“You wouldn’t?” You finally peek from under the covers.

“Oh, I would.” Cara laughs. She’s only half-joking. She’s a good blackmailer that’s for sure. Compliments of her mother being a spy and her other mother being a district attorney. “Now, please, put on the matching pajamas and meet us downstairs in twenty. That’s all I’m giving or Auntie Yelena will come searching for you.”

“We got it,” You roll your eyes knowing her threat is true. Yelena was just like the other kids on Christmas. Excited and energetic. Which was a bad combination in itself.

Cara closes the door behind her leaving you to clean up and get dressed. You wait a few more minutes before looking up at Natasha.

“That was close,” You say and she frowns.

“So was I,” She quips lying back against the pillows to relax.

“Well, she did give us twenty minutes.” You suggest. Natasha removes the arm over her eyes to look at you. Wasn’t a bad idea.

Twenty minutes went by way too fast though you finally have the time to make Natasha cum at least once. You’re just about to start another round when Yelena’s incessant knocking.

“Come out now, or I will drag you by the tits!” She yells through the door before going back downstairs.

What a morning.

Finally, you and Natasha leave the safety of your bedroom to go downstairs and join the rest of the family for breakfast. Natasha immediately goes for the coffee. She mumbled a hello before pouring herself a full cup. You sit at the table, stealing a few strawberries from Paige’s high chair, as she feeds herself.

“So nice to see you this morning,” Melina greets placing a plate of food in front of you.

Alexei is too busy engaging in an intense game of thumb wrestling with James across the table to greet you.

“If they weren’t too busy screwing each other’s brains out the morning would have gone along much quicker,” Yelena mutters.

“Yelena,” Melina scolds and Alexei groans from his spot at the table.

“Mama and Mommy were playing hide and seek,” James supplies as he sits up further to get a good grip on Alexei’s hand.

“Was that what they called it?” Yelena raised a brow. Cara snickers. “Back in my day, it was called -”

“Yelena, I promise both you and Cara’s gifts will be shipped back to the store faster than you can finish that sentence,” Natasha warns from over her mug.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Cara whines.

“You’re no fun,” Yelena pouts before stuffing a waffle in her mouth.

“We did see Santa ate the cookies,” James informed you. “He ate them all up but didn’t drink the milk.”

“Santa’s lactose intolerant we forgot,” You grimace. You were not very fond of the taste of milk and refused to drink it even to fool your kids.

“Morgan says Santa isn’t real and that all of her presents came from her daddy,” Charlie says suddenly. She looks expectantly at you with thick lashes and bright green eyes.

“Morgan also said she could fly and she hasn’t shown you yet,” Yelena interrupted. Nice save.

“Can we open presents now?” Charlie bounces in her seat. “We waited all day for you to eat breakfast.”

“Yes, we can open presents now,” You finish off your meal. Neither of the kids waits for the adults as they race into the living room. Even Cara seems excited as she follows her younger siblings. You help Paige out of her high chair and she toddles behind the rest of them, not missing a beat.

You help Melina put the dishes away while Yelena wipes down the table. Natasha and Alexei are in charge of putting away leftovers. If you keep it clean now you won’t have to clean it later. That’s always been the family motto.

Everyone is gathered in the living room just in time for the first present to be opened. You sit on the edge of the couch with Natasha curling into your lap. She leans her head against your shoulders completely satisfied and in love. Your fingers trace the skin of her back under her pajamas as you watch the kids tear into their presents.

Melina and Alexei help to open and find presents with each of the kids. Yelena is at her own part of the tree ripping open her own presents. She’s just as happy as the rest of them.

“I got new skates?” Caras gasps as she opens up the shoe box. They’re pale pink with yellow shoelaces. Just like she asked for. “Thanks, moms.” She gives you a thumbs-up from across the room.

“I got a new doll!” Charlie is quick to show her bigger sister. She pushes the box into Cara’s lap. “Can you help me open it?”

“Yeah,” Cara turns the box over and over in her hands.

“Santa gave me a nerf gun?” James waits patiently as Alexei inserts the fake rubber bullets into the toy.

“Santa actually brought all of us nerf guns,” Natasha informs the room. “I figured after we open presents we can play?”

“Definitely,” Cara shares in the excitement as she hands the now-opened doll back to Charlie

“Whoa!” Yelena shouts as she grips the edges of a brand-new tactical suit. “This is so badass.”

“It was my idea,” You tell her. “Tony and I came up with some new upgrades. Pockets and all sorts of things.” You say as she feels the materials in her hands.

“So cool,” Is all she can say as she drops the suit back into the box. She stands from her seat with a pout on her face. She gives you no time to move as she tackles you both in a bear hug. “You guys, this is the best Christmas ever!”

The best Christmas ever indeed. Once all the presents are opened and all nerf guns assembled everyone splits up into teams. You with Cara, Natasha with Yelena, Alexei, and Melina with the kids. Everyone has their separate spots in the house as a base. The only rule was to shoot as many people as you can. Which proves to be hard with spies and assassins using their skills to their advantage. It’s pure, delightful chaos. Until you’re facing off against Natasha. Her gun is drawn, pointed straight at your forehead, while yours is pointed toward her chest.

“Put yours down,” She instructs and you shake your head. You raise your chin signaling for her put hers down. It’s a sort of dance between you two as you walk in a circle around the island. You can hear laughter and the sound of toy guns going off in other parts of the house. She raises a brow. A new tactic. “I will let you fuck me with your Christmas present tonight if you put it down.”

“Christmas present?” Your voice breaks as you lick your lips. You hadn’t heard of a Christmas present besides the ones you exchanged earlier today.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha doesn’t offer more. “I think you’ll be very happy with it.” She promises.

“Okay, I’m out.” You lower your gun allowing her to shoot you smack dab in the middle of your head. She’s a good shot. You raise your hand to rub against the sore spot on your face. You pout, bottom lip poking out, as you look over to Natasha. “I didn’t think you’d really shoot me.”

“Merry Christmas,” Natasha steps around the counter to plant a kiss against the spot she just shot. She smirks before running out of the room to find the other half of her team.

[axelsagewrites]

Rhaenyra Targaryen*Worth It

Pairing: rhaenyra x f!noble!reader

Word count: 678

Kinktober Day nine: edging/orgasm denial with Rhaenyra Targaryen – since you’re used to get everything you want Rhaenyra decides to show you good things come to those who wait

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

“Please,” the whimpers fell from your lips as a prayer as your fingers tightened on the arms of the chair.

A lady should not beg especially not someone from such a prestigious, and more importantly rich family however you could not help yourself as the princess buried herself between your thighs.

“You wanna finish?” she asked, pulling away for only a moment to reveal her smirk before her lips returned to your sensitive nub, sucking on the bundle of nerves making you whine and whimper once more.

“Yes,” you moaned, your fingers threatening to break if you gripped the chair any harder, “Please Rhae,” you begged and for a moment as her fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs you wondered if she would finally have mercy.

You felt yourself on the verge of your peak, your stomach already tightening from the burning knot in your gut only for her to pull away as quickly as it had come. “No,” you whined, hips bucking and eyes watering as Rhaenyra pulled herself up from her knees to straddle your lap.

She was still in her court dress, hiking it up so she could settle in your lap. You however had been stripped down to just a shift so as she cupped your breasts you heard yourself whine again, “So impatient,” Rhaenyra chastised, a smirk playing on her lips, “Just think of how good it will feel when it does happen,” she whispered in your ear, placing a soft kiss to your jaw.

“This isn’t fair,” you whined, your hands tugging at her dress which she refused to take off.

“Life isn’t fair,” she said as she removed your hands from her fabrics, moving them down up to rest on her shoulders, “And besides,” she added, placing a soft kiss to your lips, “in these chambers you are not a lady,” she said, kissing your cheek, “you are not rich,” another kiss to your jaw, “you are not in charge,” she said as she kissed your collarbone, “but you are mine and mine alone,”

“Yours,” you confirmed, moaning as her lips began to kiss between your neck, “only yours,”

“Only mine,” she said and when you noticed her sinking back to her knees you whined once more. Her fingers trailed up your abused slit, barely ghosting over your clit but already making you jerk and her smirk return. Her fingers eased into your desperate hole, curling with a precision that made your toes curl.

Her thumb positioned itself over your clit, rubbing slow firm circles into the sensitive nub while she began to leave light hickeys up your thigh. After all she was the only one privy to such sights, a joy she delighted in as she left another mark, soothing the soft skin with her tongue.

You felt your peak already approaching, which was happening quicker and quicker the longer she teased you. after all she’d already brought you to the brink at least four times tonight but with no reward. When her thumb moved you fought back a whine but whimpered loudly when she began sucking harshly on your clit, massaging it with her tongue.

“Thank you,” you gasped, moans filling the room as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten, “so good,” you began to mumble, “yes,” you gasped as you felt your body approach its peak.

You expected another sour disappointment when her face pulled away, but it was only for a second this time, “Let go,” Rhaenyra whispered before leaning back in, placing an open mouth kiss to your bundle of nerves making your body twitch.

Curse words fell from your lips as your body finally tumbled over its peak, your orgasm crashing down hard making filthy moans fall from your lips as Rhaenyra’s tongue never stopped. It was only when you slumped back in the chair, your legs still twitching that she pulled away, “So was it worth the wait?” she smirked, manoeuvring to sit on your lap.

You kissed her cheek, a dazed expression on your face, “So fucking worth it,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @jacesvelaryons

[mrskreideprinz]

| Stripped Bare | 

Pairing: Albedo x Gn!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Angst, He/Him Pronouns for Albedo, No pronouns for Reader,  Hurt/Comfort, Implied Slow Burn, Gender Neutral Reader, 1.1k words. 

A/n: I had so much fun writing this?? I gotta write Albedo angst more often. 

Summary: Seeing Sucrose look so happy with Albedo causes you to snap. 

Tagging: @suyacho @auphelia @fleur-de-leap @tighnarly @themovingcastlez

Your chest felt tight, constricting around the empty cavity. Everything was caving in around you, the atmosphere thick with whatever negativity you convinced yourself to be true. His turquoise eyes trained itself on you, locked onto something terrified. His face, although calm, twisted into some sort of complicated emotion. You’d never felt so distant from him, his skin burning yours with just a touch. 

He was saying words that you knew to be true. His mouth moved but you heard him not utter a single thing. Why was that? Do you suppose you were in some sort of dream-like state? Although, there was nothing dreamy about what was going on. Nightmare, yes. Perhaps this was the cost of being human, alive. But then why did he watch you like you were something he knew better than alchemy? Why did he look at you as if he had studied you before? Has he studied you before? 

He calls out your name but you can only stare back and cry. His hand finds its place on your cheek, wipes away the falling tears. He calls your name, again. This time desperation and worry laces his voice. You forget what your name sounds like until he says it. Something about his voice choosing your name to call reminds you of the thrum of a harp, forgiving and soft. Sound slowly returns to your ears, gradually you come to until finally you remember what started this in the first place.

“Please?” He’s asking something from you, but what? 

The last thing you remember was walking home, strolling through Mondstadt City when you saw— Yes, when you saw him and her. You weren’t a jealous person, not in the least, but when you saw Albedo and Sucrose walking side by side something died inside you. She turned to say something to him and something shattered in your chest. She laughed at one of his jokes and you felt the world around you collapse. She made him smile and you felt yourself die. 

Even when he turned to you, smiling wide and bright, you couldn’t help but be horrified. Even as you stood tall, you felt yourself fall to your knees, begging the heavens to have mercy on you. Loving a sinner isn’t right but it is necessary. The heavens had to teach you its way, showing you the light by taking what should’ve been yours. This wasn’t what you wanted, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be. 

His words relieve you from your anguish momentarily. “Talk to me. What happened?” 

That’s when you did the stupidest thing. God, even the idea was the most idiotic thing. So, then why did you do it? Why did you say it? 

“I’m in love with you.” You finally confess.

“What did you say?” He asks.

Fuck.

“Albedo..” You trail off, not sure you want to say what you’ve been holding in for so long. 

You hoped he’d forget about this, become a distant memory. In that moment you wished for his ears to fail, becoming unable to hear a single thing. Maybe then you could try to pick up the pieces and move on, but that’s not how things worked. 

“You’re in love with me?” His voice is frantic, looking for an answer that even he can’t find. 

Both of you stare into each other’s eyes, forcing yourselves to soak in each other’s sorrows. There was no one around you, at least that’s how it felt. Just you, Albedo, and the rain that had started to fall from the sky. You say nothing, not for a while. Too scared to say another word, frozen in place as his eyes remain locked on you. The rain starts to become heavy, drenching you both. You’d never seen Albedo look so sad before, he seemed wrong that way. The sun was not supposed to dim, just as the moon should not become too bright. 

“Yes.” You finally reply.

The silence is deafening, but Albedo is quick to reply.

“For how long?” 

You turn away but his hands gently force your eyes on his. He’s shaking. There’s something different about him. 

“Long enough.” You admit, your voice breaking as you answer him. 

He smiles. Smiling turns to laughter. You’re confused, maybe even a little pissed off. You should’ve expected this, should’ve known better. You have half a mind to ask him what’s so funny, but he speaks first.

“If I had known..” He trails off, almost too scared to say what he wants to. 

“What?” You ask impatiently.

He doesn’t think and instead acts first. Albedo takes one of his hands and wraps it around the back of your head, pulling you close and pushing your lips against his. You can’t help but let out a gasp. The kiss is hypnotic and his touch is sensational. You’ve wanted this for so long that you don’t think twice about kissing him back. As selfish as you feel you can’t help but enjoy it. His lips part only to join them with yours again.

You climb into his lap and kiss him harder, not caring who sees. You deserve this, you deserve to be a little selfish. If the way he touches you is any consolation then it’s clear he feels the same way. His hands roam between your face and body, too indecisive but always agreeing that it was you. It was always you. The both of you share a kiss full of desperate gasps and whimpers. Suddenly you pull out of the kiss, pushing him back just enough to look him in the eye. 

“Albedo, do you.. do you love me, too?” You were hesitant to ask but you needed to know.

He smiles and rolls his eyes. “Duh.” 

You can’t help but laugh and eventually Albedo joins in, too. He wraps you up in a tight embrace, enjoying the feeling of being able to do that with you at long last. It isn’t until you both pull away that you realize that rain had left and the sun had let itself out of the clouds. 

“We should uh, we should get into some different clothes.” You suggest. 

His face turns red and he averts his eyes, but only for a moment.

“Do you maybe wanna come to my house? It’s warm and I can give you a change of clothes.” You pause. “If you want to of course.” 

He gives you another embrace and kisses you softly. Albedo pulls back only to stroke the side of your face and to gaze at you with the utmost adoration. 

“I’d love that.” 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Nobody's Girl - Chapter Four.

So, since it's Good Friday, allow me to be good to the NG bookclub! I think this is the chapter that people have been most excited for, so without further ado...

Previous chapters - One Two Three

Taglist - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,656

Warnings - Adult content throughout, minors DNI!

Awaking the next morning, Emily rolled onto her back, away from the warm body that still acted like torture upon her emotions, sighing to herself. She’d hugged up against him, but he hadn’t reciprocated beyond holding her hand and kissing it, leaving her sexually fizzing into an utter frenzy, so acerbic that sleep had done little to quell the desire she had for the king of the mafia.  

Still, he slept on, softly snoring beside her, Emily lying there at the utter mercy of everything that coursed through her blood like wildfire. It forced her hand, literally, licking her fingertips and reaching beneath the covers, pulling her nightgown up as she let her thighs fall apart, her fingers stroking softly over her apex, humming quietly as her eyes took in his chiselled back.  

Staring hard, she fantasised about him turning over and catching her touching herself right at his side, how it would feel to be touched by a man who possessed his kind of experience, the twenty-year age gap doing nothing but stoking her want to have him all over her. She willed it, dared him even, through each sweep of her fingers, for him to turn over and take over, show her how a real man touched a woman, bring her to the heavens with his prowess.  

And then, he did.  

“Busy hands, honey?” he asked sleepily, noticing immediately what she was doing. Even though she wanted it, her energy calling out like a siren to him, her shyness made her cease. He tutted, preventing her hand from moving away. “Carry on, doll. But let me watch.”  

He pushed the covers off of her, his stare fixing upon her for the first time, pupils inking as a long, laboured breath fluttered over his lips, feeling himself beginning to harden instantly. She closed her legs immediately, and he tutted, a hand smoothing between her thighs to stroke them back to parted. “Let me see you, bella donna.”  

The green sparks of his rapidly blackening eyes bolstered her confidence, letting her legs fall open, her fingers resuming their soft stroke. It was so intimate, to watch him watching her, the heat of the connection between them still not acted upon crackling like a firework fuse, lit and primed to explode, Luca not able to prevent his reaching for her.  

His hand pressed against her chest, heated and eager in its glide, his mouth leaning to her neck, kisses raining, Emily gasping when his fingertips joined hers.  

“Oh, god,” she moaned, closing her eyes, her hips rising from the bed. “Please, don’t stop.”  

He groaned against her throat, fingers trailing further, teeth gently nipping her skin. “I could have a hook pierced through my hand being towed by a chain, and it wouldn’t be enough to stop me, baby.”  

She felt him open her, two fingers pushing within, the sensation shooting up her spine, Emily jolting, blinking a few times in utter confusion before it dawned on her. Turning to her side, he was lying on his back, eyes fixed upon the ceiling. Oh, god! Had she moaned in her sleep? Had he heard it?  

“Morning,” she spoke shyly, his eyes flitting to her.  

He looked at her with a slight smile, his focus returning to the ceiling. “Did ya sleep well?” 

“I did. And you?” God, she felt so awkward. 

“Yeah, ‘till you woke me. Nightmare? You groaned kinda loudly.”  

If the ground was ever going to open up and swallow her...  

Before she could shame herself with rapidly pinking cheeks, she climbed from the bed, heading for the bathroom. “I don’t remember my dreams, so I’ve no idea.”  

“Ah,” he breathed, the bathroom door closing with a thud. “Wish I didn’t.” The only thing that had ran through his brain all night was dreaming of beating Giacinto Calabrese to death, each blow connecting until bone shattered to mere fragments, the man’s skull reduced to soft goop. In his dream, he’d then turned to see Emily there, her eyes wide with horror, whispering the words that had broken him.  

“You’re just like the rest.” 

It wasn’t true, either, and that was what killed him. He was worse, and he always had been. He didn’t meet her eyes when she left the bathroom, picking up his clean clothes and entering, Emily pulling on some underwear and a dress, moving to the kitchen and making coffee with a sigh. Coming to realise that he would likely be nothing but approving if he’d guessed she was having a sex dream about him, she had to conclude he was suddenly being quiet with her for another reason. But what?  

Her heart ricochetted into her throat at hearing the bathroom door open, daring to glance over at him. He moved to one of the large sets of windows, twirling the blind rod until they opened, looking down at the street below. Picking up the other coffee, she carried it to him, holding out the cup.  

“Thanks, doll.”  

Her eyes snapped to his hand immediately, damage present that she hadn’t noticed in the dark the night before, or that her shame hadn't allowed her to witness so far that morning. “What in the name of...” she trailed off, reaching for his red, slightly swollen knuckles. “What happened?” 

“Gave someone a beating,” he surmised, bringing the coffee to his lips and blowing before taking a careful sip. 

“Who?”  

He looked at her for a second, eyes darting away again. “Giacinto.”  

“Oh,” she breathed, wondering what had reared between them this time, even though of course she knew that the families were pretty much in constant battle. “What did he do?”  

He took a breath and another sip of coffee before placing the cup down on the windowsill, eyes casting downwards, his thick, black lashes concealing the bright green that then met her gaze with strong intent. “Raised a hand to you.”  

Her eyes widened a fraction, her heart somersaulting within her rapidly tightening chest. Finally, there he was. Somebody who wanted to protect her, a person she had both needed and craved her entire life. “You, you beat him up? For me?” 

His shoulders tightened a fraction, sagging then, reaching to stroke her cheek. “For other reasons, too.” Lie. “Mostly for you, though.” Lie. It had solely been for her, and she saw it right there in the way he looked down at her. “Give me a minute, darlin’.”  

He left her standing there breathless, moving over to the other side of the apartment, lifting the phone to his ear to make a call. She didn’t get the gist of it at all, Luca speaking exclusively to whoever was at the other end in Italian, her feet taking her back over to the end of the bed and sitting down. Once he was done, he resumed his place at the window, the atmosphere between them growing heavy.  

“Will you be in trouble, for beating him?” she asked, the tall Italian not replying right away.  

“Probably,” he spoke with nonchalance, his mouth curling into a slight smirk. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle, though. He wanted you back, Emily. I told him that wasn’t gonna happen.”  

Another silence followed for a time, Emily taking a breath. “Am I safe here, Luca?” 

He sniffed, running his long, tapered fingers through his hair, his magnetic green eyes moving from the street below over to her. “From them, yes. But maybe not from me.”  

She gulped, and he saw it, the fear flashing through the storm grey of her eyes, moving to crouch before her, resting his hands upon her thighs. “Not like that, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt you, but the more time I spend with you, the more I fuckin’ want you more than any other woman I’ve ever met.” 

And he did. He wanted her so badly, it drove him to maddened distraction. She was unlike the women of his past, the fiery Italian broads who matched his ire and deafened his senses with their brashness. This dainty, quiet little creature was all sweetness and softness, a light he knew the dark in him was drawn to, a helpless, enchanted moth to her flame.  

He wanted to sink his teeth into her, eat her like a ripe summer peach, but he held himself back, resisted the urge. She was too delicate for it, for the lust that prowled through his veins like a fire breathing dragon. His heat, he knew, would burn her to ashes, yet Luca never assumed for one minute that Emily actually wanted to feel his fire against her skin. 

After all, she’d handled much worse than a horny Changretta. 

Reaching for his face, her dainty fingers toured the scars, shuffling nearer to the edge of the bed, the potent smell of his skin and cologne heady upon her senses. Her touch rained like rose petals over everything in him that was hard and foreboding, her fingernail idly tracing the black cross marked upon the side of his neck.  

“Maybe I want you just as much.”  

When she replaced her finger for her lips, his blood set to boil, heart hammering, a neon blaze of arousal illuminating his insides as his hands began to slowly creep up her thighs. How he managed to continue tethering his want for her, hanging onto it like a roped in wild bull, he didn’t know, the flick of her tongue against his throat setting his teeth to clench. “You sure?”  

She’d had enough of being nobody’s girl, coveting to be his and his alone. Her soft lips laid kisses along his jaw, a bloom like no other fluttering through her insides when she felt him grasp her underwear, but pause, awaiting her permission. “Yes, Luca. I’m very, very sure.”  

Green met grey in an unblinking gaze, his breath hot against her cheek, hands pulling her underwear down her legs, her fingers trailing over his chest as their lips met at last. He let go of the rope in that moment, setting the bull free to charge, and how it did as he pushed her back onto the bed, settling himself between her thighs as he kissed her with every last drop of longing he’d held ever since she first walked into his life.  

Her insides tingled with the arousal of it, feeling a man atop her for the first time, skilled hands smoothing over her body, her clothes removed as his kisses rained over her neck, Emily suddenly feeling the sharp pinch of nerves as her nudity was finally exposed to him. Her arms moved to her chest, covering herself, Luca seeing it in her face as her muscles stiffened.  

“You ain’t ever been with a man before, have you, bella donna?”  

She shook her head.  

Taking her arms, he unfolded them, sitting back on his heels as he looked down at her. She was so breathtaking, he almost felt faint. All that beauty, and he was the first man she’d trusted enough to enjoy it. And boy, how he would. “S’okay, baby. I promise you’ll enjoy it. Fuck, you’re so damned beautiful.” 

She felt it, too, watching the path his hands took as he toured her skin, lowering to her again, kissing her with hunger. He wanted to be wild with her, show her a new world of everything sexual, devour her completely, but she still lay a little tense beneath him. It had been a long, long time since he’d been with a virgin, Luca knowing well he needed to pull himself back a little again for the sake of her comfort, but god, she didn’t make it easy.  

He wanted to shred his clothes to tatters in order to feel the bare press of her flesh against his, but let her be in control of that, eventually feeling her hands move to begin undressing him from the finely tailored suit still acting as an annoying barrier, her mouth gliding from his neck to his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt and waistcoat.  

Feeling her relax, he smiled, panting as her hands explored him, her skin so lily white against the olive of his flesh, dark and light entwining as she wrapped her arms around him, hands trailing over his back. He was all lithe muscles and sharp angles, but his body melded to hers perfectly, fit like a missing jigsaw piece, Emily enjoying the heat of his skin against hers, beginning to yearn. 

Her fingers undid his pants, her heart amping up a few notches at realising exactly what was straining for release within. The bashfulness of knowing that she had no clue what on earth to do with it once he was fully naked prickled through her, his hard cock springing free, her eyes widening a little. She had no base for comparison, but oh, it wasn’t small.  

Curling her hand around it, she marvelled at how hard it was, encased in such soft, dark skin, her mouth moving back to his neck as she squeezed, but then stilled, feeling a little useless until he reached down, covering her hand with his own. He guided her touch, his other hand stroking her face as he stared at her, the want in his eyes killing her shame at not knowing what she was doing dead.  

“Like that, baby.” he whispered, releasing her hand, letting her go it alone. “Fuck, yeah that’s good.” 

She felt empowered by his praise, even more so when her hand reached the head of his hardness and her thumb skimmed the tip, oozing fluid onto her, a deep, lust drenched moan rattling his throat. It arrowed her insides, feeling herself becoming wet as her walls tingled, repeating the same action that had roused that primal sound from him.  

When he made it again, his mouth crashed against hers, a kiss of torrid thirst as their tongues entwined, his hips swaying against the pump of her hand. She gripped just a tiny bit harder, experimenting a little, a slight twist of her hand pulling more sounds of approval from him, her wrist suddenly grasped. “No more.” She thought she’d done wrong for a moment, a little shard of panic grazing against her chest, Luca pinning her arms above her head. “Feels a little too good.”  

Relaxing, she lay there and instead surrendered to him, his mouth gliding to her tits, lips closing around her nipple. Tiny daggers pricked her flesh as she felt the warm suck of his mouth, not releasing it until it stood hard, a pink pebble he flicked his tongue across, kisses descending while trailing his hand to her thigh, shifting as he stroked the soft skin, creeping ever closer to where she ached to be touched.  

His fingertips finally met her petals, dewy and warm, pulling a soft groan from him. “God above, you’re so fuckin’ wet.” 

Her eyes widened, looking down at him with trepidation. “Is that a bad thing?” 

Oh, she was so sweet and naive. He chuckled quietly, tongue circling her navel. “Uh-uh, no way, honey. No way in this world is a pretty, soaking wet little cunt a bad thing.” She expected him to begin working his way back up to her mouth, but instead, each kiss was peppered lower, his tongue gliding over her hipbones as his fingers gently stroked at her, Emily feeling a little uneasy suddenly when she cottoned on to exactly where he intended to place those kisses.  

When he finally did, though, tongue pushing through her folds to lick at the syrupy wet of her, her eyes closed, head thudding back against the bed, the feel, the intimacy of it, his mouth on her most sacred of places, was absolutely mind blowing. Mind blowing, and not what she’d expected. 

“Oh... I um, I didn’t think Italian guys liked doing that?” 

He snorted a soft laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Where’d you hear that bullshit?” 

“Around,” she spoke, her eyes darting away, embarrassment pinking her cheeks.  

“Ya did, huh?” he rumbled, giving her inner thigh a little bite before he pushed the flat of his tongue against her folds, dragging it slowly and firmly. “Not this Italian, darlin’. Trust me, you ain’t gonna see my face for so long, you’ll forget what I look like.” 

He repeated the action, Emily shivering from the heat of his mouth. “I’m fine with that.” 

He chuckled, deep and raspy, his tongue flicking the bud of her clit before he kissed it softly, still smiling at how wrong her assertion was. “Thought you might be.” The pressure of each lick was like a blaze of stars twinkling through her, his fingers joining, stroking her folds until he held them spread, tongue pressing her clit as it began to rotate a slow, firm circle.  

The beautiful whimper that spilled from her lips almost made him come on command. “Think she likes my tongue.”  

“Oh god... don’t you dare stop!”  

He laughed, low and dirty against her, lips wrapping her clit in a soft, warm suck. She almost cried at that, Luca knowing exactly what he was doing to her. “You gettin’ feisty with me? Making your demands, huh?” 

“Luca! Stop using your mouth for speaking!” she whimpered, her chest rising and falling rapidly.  

He looked up at her, arching an eyebrow, his gaze flitting between her and her gleaming sex a couple of time before he winked. “Alright Guess I’ll say what I gotta without words.” And god, how he did. Long licks from her streaming opening to her bud told her exactly what he wanted to say, that she was beautiful, that he couldn’t get enough of her, that the nectar of her hot little cunt drove him out of his senses with rampant desire.  

His mouth upon her was unlike anything she could have imagined, hot and eager, so expert in how he touched her, each lick bestowed having the kind of focus that tore little cries from her throat, her walls flexing as her clit hardened against the fast beat of his tongue. She’d never even touched herself with that kind of knowledge before, the experience he had in shades awakening her to the divine.  

The pleasure tumbled through her, her blood running hot through her hammering heart, fingers combing his raven hair as her hips shook. She was alight and glowing from the tight circles pressed over her bud, his fingers slipping down to push inside her, sinking in deep, stroking at her until she wailed, her thighs skimming the sides of his face.  

Those clever fingers slid back and forth with god-given dexterity, speeding up, coaxing noises from her that made his cock harden even further, the need to be inside her all-encompassing. Emily could feel it, the climbing pleasure weaving through her like a creeper vine ascending, his fingers and tongue working her faster as her cries filled the air.  

She didn’t understand how something already so good could keep on feeling better, her cunt hugging upon his fingers as her body went rigid, and then... white hot bliss poured over her bones, every fibre of her being ablaze with the nirvana of her first orgasm. He watched her keenly as she writhed, her body jolting before her muscles all relaxed, the afterglow gleaming her like a summer dawn, a smile crinkling his eyes as his tongue gentled against her, but didn’t cease.  

“Luca, oh my god,” she panted, trying to push him away. He had other ideas, though. “Stop, it’s too much.” 

Shaking his head as he gently sucked her folds, his eyes seemed to glow brighter, the peridot flecks gleaming, glittered by the triumph of her pleasure. “You told me not to,” he shrugged lightly, tongue still lapping lazily over her sensitive clit. 

“I know, but really, it’s too much!” 

A soft grunt welled his throat. “Not yet it ain’t, doll.” Her thighs closed around his head, Luca grumbling, turning to bite her flesh, laughing quietly when she squealed, his fingers softly stroking over the puffy, ruined wet of her pretty folds. “Can't expect me to stop right now. A woman always tastes the sweetest right after she comes." 

“Is that a fact, huh, my handsome man?” she laughed softly, her chuckles like sweet music to his ears. 

Hearing her call him that, her handsome man, his heart skipped on a beat. Taking her hand, he shifted up a little, placing a soft kiss against her inner wrist. “That’s a fact, cara mia.” His mouth returned to her, each lick carefully laid, until her sensitivity passed and once more his touch elicited nothing but moonbeams. She’d once overheard a woman speak of the fact that Italian men were the greatest lovers on earth, and so far, Emily had to confess that she was in complete agreement with such a statement.  

His hands stroked over her body, making her feel nothing short of worshipped by him, the coolness of his gold rings contrasting deliciously with the heat of his fingers, Luca clutching her thighs and keeping her spread wide for his mouth, unabating as he continued to lick and suck at her.  

“Got another for me, huh baby?” he murmured, reading her body expertly as her breathing became more rapid, her soft curves quaking as he teased fire through her veins.  

“Mmhmm!” she hummed, lips clamped tightly as her hands fisted the covers either side of her head, writhing against his mouth. His lips pulled at her clit in a hard suck, tongue flicking at the tip, her release a flurry of pleasure that glimmered up her spine, leaving her breathless once more. 

Emerging from between her legs, he kissed his way back to her mouth, pausing to gaze down at her, fingers stroking tenderly over her cheek. “You got no idea how fuckin’ beautiful you are, do you?” 

Reaching between them, her hand grasped his cock. “This tells me pretty well.” He laughed softly through his nose, shaking his head. Her other hand moved to cup his face, thumb stroking over his smile. “This tells me, too.” His lips parted, sucking the tip of her thumb as she guided his cock to her, his body falling a little more to hers, sinking in with a fluid push.  

Her mouth fell open, his eyes questioning as he stroked her face, Emily answering with a nod as she pulled him closer, kissing him with soft, syrupy heat. Bottoming out, he pulled back, the slick hug of her around him beautiful, watching the desire dance in her eyes as she gasped at being filled up again. It knocked her sideways, being breached so deeply, his mouth claiming hers as their lips crushed together in a passionate, consuming display of arousal. 

“Holy fuck, you feel like fuckin’ heaven.” he groaned deeply, mouth leaving hers to bury at her delicate neck, the drum of her pulse bouncing against his eager lips as he glided effortlessly in and out of her heat. Her walls clenched around him, snugly enclosing his cock in wet heat, making him shudder against her body as they writhed together in complete and utter bliss.   

She twinged a little at being split around a cock for the first time, little pinpricks of pain that merged with the divine pleasure of such heated thickness invading her, Luca repeatedly reminding himself to keep slow, knowing he was a lot to get used to.  

Helpless, soft little exclamations fluttered over her lips, his fingertips stroking them, gently grasping her jaw and turning her head to sear her mouth with his once more. Her hands glided over his shoulders, delighting in the delicious feel of him beneath her palms, sparks skittering over every single nerve. 

He felt heavy both atop and inside her, pressing into her so forcefully, Emily felt herself drowning in his consuming passion, his raw masculinity, everything about him imposing, but in such a way that he could have poured into her forever and it’d never be enough.   

She felt drunk on him completely, Luca locking his arms around her, lifting her body as he sat back on his heels, letting her sink down onto his cock. She clasped on around him, thighs tight at his hips as she felt him even deeper within her walls than before, clenching on him, stroking his face as they shared more kisses of pure, erotic frenzy.   

The hunger she keened with for him was unmatched, her body opened like a flower before the sun, drinking up the rays of warmth he gilded her with. He let her to find her own way upon him, allowing her to set the pace he then began to move in time with, groaning at the slow, rolling rhythm. It might have been all brand new and shiny for her, but for Luca, he couldn’t remember the last time when sex had felt so blindingly intimate.  

Her hips bucked into him, ensnaring his slippery length with each undulation, his hands grasping her ass and hauling her closer, wanting to be even deeper within her. His teeth grazed at her throat, nipping at her lily pale skin, deep moans flowing from his mouth to hers as they shared kisses of fiery honey once more.   

She swallowed them back, her cunt hugging him in a series of strong flutters as they undulated together so perfectly, she never wanted him to retreat. It was scorching, one hundred percent passion, and lord, it was everything she’d ever hoped sex with him would be. 

He shifted her higher on him with ease, her thighs loosening their grip as he bucked up against her with thrusts that hit hard, his mouth everywhere, sucking and tasting her petal soft skin, her head tipping back, exclamations of bliss pouring from her mouth.   

She stared deep into the twinkling green of his eyes, continuing to roll against him, the heat of his cock scorching her insides, saturating him in a gloss of her arousal. His hands drifted up her back, grasping her shoulders, nuzzling her softly while pulling her down against his thrusts as he moved with greater friction beneath her. 

Tensing around him, she began to pant against his mouth, her cries spilling out like a fountain bursting into life, his hand splaying over her hip between them, thumb stretching to rub tight, firm circles at her clit.   

Each one drew the wildness out of her more, Emily grinding on him almost savagely in the pursuit of the ultimate undoing, taking him by surprise at the sudden urgency she displayed. She rode him with all the intensity he fucked her with, their bodies colliding together frantically.  

His muscles flexed with effort, deep, furious grunts peppering the air as his body stiffened in spasm, his cock twitching and spurting deep, glazing her cunt with cum as the lightning flickered, her spine tingling and thighs shaking.   

He had her cresting hard against him, nails grazing his back as her release struck home, a bonfire of pleasure roaring through her so torridly, she felt completely unmoored. The hammering of his heart against her breast eventually brough her back from the cloud she floated on, feeling dreamy and drunk, smiling as he kissed her.  

“Damn, you sure ride wild,” he panted. She laughed, Luca lying her down on her back, his cock exiting her with a slippery pop before he lay on his side next to her. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” 

“That I’ve been seriously missing out on something so amazing for a long time.”  

He kissed her shoulder, fingers idly tracing around her nipple. “Glad I could be the one to show ya. Gimme a half hour to recover, and I’ll help you make up for a little more lost time.”  

Moving closer, she hooked her leg over his hip, fingers trailing over the soft, dark hair upon his chest. “Is that a promise?” 

The way he kissed her said it probably wouldn’t even be half an hour.  

[violettduchess]

Can I request ikevamp Arthur with the prompt constellations and be Spicy.

A/N: Here you are, @otomefoxystar 💜 I hope you enjoy it!

This is a submission for my and @lorei-writes Sunshine and Starlight CC ☀⭐

Arthur x Reader, suggestive content

WC: ~900

The moon spills its silvery light through the open window, granting everything in Arthur’s room an argent sheen. A cool night breeze accompanies it, whispering across the bare skin of your back. It brushes its fingers along your spine, caresses your curves and tickles the backs of your legs. Even the soles of your feet feel its chilly touch. It is, however, a welcome change from the tidal wave of heat that Arthur had unleashed upon your body not long ago. You sigh, your cheek resting against the cradle of your arms as you remember him coaxing the ever-burning embers of your desire into towering flames with his skilled fingers, his talented mouth. You burned to ash, a comet exploding across as star-strewn night sky, and now you are enjoying the sated rest of a body slowly coming back, like stardust recompiling itself into human form.

Arthur pushes himself away from the pillows he’s been reclining against, his dark blue gaze drinking in the sight of you there, on your stomach, breathing contentedly. He leans towards you, laying a familiar hand on the back of your thigh. You lift your head and glance over your shoulder at him.

“As beautiful as Cassiopeia,” he murmurs affectionately, his palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the face you make as you dimly remember a musty university lecture hall and an ancient professor droning on about Greek mythology.

“Isn’t she extremely vain and ends up causing the downfall of her kingdom?” You shift a bit, propping yourself up on your forearms and recalling more of the myth as the hazy memory slowly comes into focus. “Poseidon put her in the stars and she spends half the year upside down as punishment.”

Arthur laughs, the sound soft and admiring. “Who knew my darling was so versed in the classics?” He moves closer, sitting up beside you, his hand sliding possessively up your reclining figure, up across the curve of your hip, his fingers brushing along the line of your waist until they come to rest on the plane of your back. Using one finger, he begins tracing a line between your shoulder blades. The touch is feather-light, yet heated, a phoenix feather grazing your skin. 

“Thanks to Isaac, I know quite a bit about the scientific side of Cassiopeia. She, as a constellation, is famous for her W-shape, formed by her five brightest stars.” He draws the shape slowly and your breath comes out in a light gasp, caught in a spider’s web of desire and anticipation. “Right next to her is the more famous Big Dipper.” His finger slides down a short distance, tracing the familiar shape of its four-starred bowl and then the three-starred handle. Your back is now rising and falling more quickly with each breath, your head having fallen forward, forehead pressed against your forearms, as you lose yourself in the feel of his touch. “And right next to them is Andromeda.” He glides his hand further down your body to the sensitive small of your back. You squirm, wanting a firmer touch, but he presses you down onto the bed with his free hand, keeping you still.

“Arthur….” It’s almost a whimper, almost a plea.

His hand doesn’t budge, holding you at his mercy even as his index finger resumes its journey, tracing the shape of Andromeda’s starlit form. A shudder rolls through your as he leans down, pressing a kiss right next to where his finger has stopped. “Can you tell me, my sweet scholar, who Andromeda is?” That voice is honey, pouring itself over you. “If you manage that, you’ve earned a reward.”

You long to turn, to roll your body around so you’re facing him, so you can reach for him and pull him roughly to you, desperate to quench the thirst that is burning its way through your veins. But he knows, oh does he know, what he is doing to you, and he is still gently but firmly holding you in place. He slides his palm across your lower back and your thoughts spark into tiny bursts of light, disappearing into the void of want that has clouded your mind, making it difficult to remember anything at all. 

“Andromeda,” you manage, the word sticking to your dry throat, “was Cassiopeia’s daughter.” He trails a teasing line along the outside of your thigh, ignoring the places you most need him. Gritting your teeth, you force yourself to concentrate. “She was offered as a sacrifice by her mother to a sea monster, but was saved by Perseus. They got married and had lots of children and damn it, Arthur, if you don’t touch me properly, I swear–”

He laughs, the sound husky and full of promise. “Alright, alright.” You’re released and quicker than a star’s wink in the night you’ve turned around, rising to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him fiercely, the full force of the desire he’s built up inside you now unleashed, bright as Sirius, more powerful than the pull of gravity. Arthur’s eyes are a universe all of their own, blazing with love and longing. Gently he pushes you back down against the soft mattress, his long, bare body covering your own. “Lay back, love, and let me reward you.” He slowly begins trailing a chain of kisses down your neck, your collarbone. “You’ve more than earned it.”

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

@redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey

@mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight

@ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea

@chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja

@starlitmanor-network @sh0jun @fang-and-feather @bubblexly @ozalysss @kiki-tties

[sehtoast]

The Fall (Conqueror Homelander AU)

18+ | 2.7k, graphic violence, murder spree, conqueror!Homelander | Fic Directory

God cannot give a mercy he's never been shown.

Art by the wonderful @homelanderbutbig , who i couldn't have done this without <3 (Link)

Should god have to beg?  Must he line up at the heel of some master, perform his little tricks and pray that scraps would fall his way?  Where is his dignity?  Where is his worth?

Where is his rage?

Where, under layers of conditioning and desperation for approval, is this dog’s teeth?  

When they stripped the first parts of him away, they did so in a lab.  Controlled and concise, they chiseled him into perfection.  Do as we say; bark on command.  Bite not the hand that feeds, but, rather, bite for it.  Where we point, you must go– tail between your legs– and do all that we instruct.  Only then will you have earned it.  

Only then will this dog get to eat.  Only then will god earn his scraps.

Always with the promise of love, he performs.  Vogelbaum’s love, a nonexistent, virulent thing.  Something that bites as much as it rewards.  

A father.

A father who wanted a perfect son.  A creature built to withstand, a child strapped to a critical nuclear reactor.  The boy drowned in boiling water by day and incinerated by night.  Carved and cut, poked, prodded, injected.

More, more, more… All for the love of a father.

The fists of supes, gods in their own right compared to that little boy, beating him senseless all to nurture him.  The hands of doctors, invasive and uncaring, all to manufacture him.

When will he earn it?

Did the young man, overwhelmed by the world, crying fifty miles down the highway earn it?  Did he thrill the investors– make the company look good?  Were his lines delivered with poise and elegance, but not so much that he was too synthetic?

Why hasn’t he earned it?

Maybe, he thinks, he’s meant to earn something different.  Pretty lips and soft, golden locks of hair.  Firm and unwavering in her treatment of him.  Direct and to the point, with something in her voice he’s never heard before.  She is new, she is unfamiliar, and she is what he must earn.  

Her approval.  Her good graces.  Her love.

Promised for years– for more than a decade.  

Jump through this hoop.  Say this line.  Good boy.  But don’t touch.  You have to knock, you have to wait, you have to be patient.

He did it all for her.  Watched her climb higher and higher because of everything he ever did– all for her– but she never took him with.  Merely held his lead and kept the carrot too far from his desperate, starved fangs.

You cannot be bad.

But he wasn’t!  He’s done everything– everything!  

Shouldn’t it be enough?

It was supposed to be enough…

But when does it all become too much?  When does this trained dog finally gnaw himself free of the leash and tear its anchors from his very bones?

When does the little boy in the lab finally free himself?

When he is stripped of everything, when god has his makeshift throne pulled out from under him– that’s when.

Edgar tells him plain and simple, with Madelyn by his side.

“You’re out.”

She does nothing to protect him.

But he doesn’t believe it.  How could they discard their most loyal dog?  Sure, he quakes and whimpers, but his bite is still fierce.  He’s tested the boundaries so many times, but he’ll still rend flesh from bone to protect them.  He can still do every trick asked of him.

He doesn’t believe it when the construction crews disassemble his penthouse.  Even watching the fabrication of his personality ripped from the walls, he doesn’t believe them.  They’re merely redesigning things, of course!  Something new to represent him.  Something better.

When his ‘retirement’ is announced, he still doesn’t believe it.  He must be taking over a new team– a better team.  One that was made for him.  One that was worthy of him.

But it never comes.

They demand the suit be returned in exchange for something more… human.  He denies, of course.  He is their crown jewel.  Why would they want to take that away?

Too much, too much, too much–

He flees to the cabin, but even that is gone.  Flattened earth and sealed pipes, tread tracks leading away from whatever machine tore down his solitude. 

“I’m The Homelander!  You can’t just do this to me!”  

“Not anymore.”  Was the only response Edgar gave him, coupled with that disapproving gaze. Like he was a nuisance, a beast of burden that had long since outlived its usefulness.

The next day, his fingerprints no longer registered in the security scanners.  

His funds had dried out.  There would be no breakfast at whatever cafe he chose to grace with his presence after being refused service at the tower.

Card declined. Card declined. Card declined.

Madelyn wouldn’t pick up.

Edgar’s line was forbidden from outside callers.

Card declined. Card declined. Card declined.

Too many stares.  Too many whispers.

His first attempt at normalcy.

They even took that away.

They took everything.

They took fucking everything.

That poor little shop is the first to feel his wrath.  Cashier lasered in two, customers reduced to pulpy piles of viscera, the front of the building decimated from the deafening boom of his takeoff.  

He rips through the sky toward Vought.  There are no thoughts when he pierces through the building.  He doesn’t even know what floor he picked, only that he’s there and that’s all he needs to know.  His eyes stay primed, indiscriminately mowing down every petrified code monkey or researcher who dared cross his path– or simply was unfortunate enough to be there.

The emergency alarm blares just loud enough to rattle his head.

He severs the elevator cables.  Pries the doors clean off the shaft entrances and goes to work.  Screams echo as the cars plummet, growing softer and softer until the massive bang at the end leaves him closing his eyes in satisfaction.

If he can’t escape his doom– his undoing– then why the fuck should they be able to?

There were more screams to snuff out.  More roaches who have seen his glory and declared him unworthy, who have rescinded their adoration with such telling, instinctual noises of terror.

They don’t love him.

They never did.

He zips out and around the building, targeting a structural support this time– barreling clean through it,  but only one.  Just enough to make them all feel exactly how he felt when the world was pulled out from under his feet.  Unsteady.  Afraid.  

At least he could fly when everything crumbled.

They cannot.  He will rise when they fall, which is exactly how it was always meant to be. 

His eyes roll back into his head with the next wave of shrieks.  The steel beams creak and moan under the imbalanced weight and the building itself seems to sway.  He picks a random level of windows and unleashes his lasers with an intensity he’s never used before.  They pierce through everything– glass, concrete, steel, anything at all that could have been holding Vought Tower together.  They rip through to the next building over and the screams of terror, the gurgles of blood– it all fills his ears like a symphony.

The world is so loud, but, for once, it’s truly all for him. The sirens, the wails, the crying and pleading– it’s all his.

One in particular calls to him.

Her.

She screams his name as though she deserves to utter it– calls out to him, begs for mercy.

But did she show him mercy?  Did she show him anything of the sort when making him jump through hoops and do his little song and dance?  For every time he fabricated stories of his nonexistent family, for every lie about a baseball birthday cake or every tear he ever cried imagining what could’ve been– what should’ve been– did she ever show him mercy?

Every touch and caress was to get what she wanted.  Every teased kiss and wandering hand was simply bait to keep her dog obedient.

No more.

He flies inside, bursts through the windows and takes her by the neck.  His eyes burn a raging crimson, sizzling away with tears that could never shed past the heat of his fury.

“Did you show me mercy?”  He grits, hand tightening around her airway.  “Did you show me love?  Did you!?”

“I– I do lo–” She gasps helplessly, nearly inaudible over the concerto of terror.

“Oh, please.”  Homelander scowls, teeth bared.  “You loved what I could do for you.  You loved what I could fucking help you gain!”

He drags her through shattered glass.  For all of her thrashing, she could never escape his grasp, and he can see the moment she realizes she shouldn’t want to.  He dangles her over the ledge, watching through blazing eyes as her heels plummet to the streets below.

Ninety-nine floors up.

“Oh g-god!”  Madelyn squeaks out, gripping desperately at his wrist.  “P-Please!”

He likes the sound of that.

“God help me!”

He lets his eyes flutter shut and blows a breath through his nose before letting a contented smile creep onto his face.  He brings her close enough to whisper, close enough to see hope flicker in her eyes when she’s above solid ground.

“Why would god help you… when you’ve abandoned him?”

Watching the hope rot in her eyes was delicious.

She falls.

She screams.

And then she’s nothing more than a mark on the pavement.  His heart twists for but a moment, and then he’s off to visit a few others.

Stan.

Easily his favorite moment of the day.  He leaves that office tossing the decapitated head between his hands like a ball.  His only regret was that he didn’t draw it out long enough to hear Edgar beg for his life.  

He sets it on the ground before a gaping hole in the side of the tower, winds up, and kicks it as hard as he can.  Sure, the head is practically mush upon impact from his god-like strength, but the thought of it arcing across the city, maybe even going into orbit, is glorious. 

He’d never be looked down upon again.

Never.

His next visit is to the man he called father.  He feels sorrow in droves as he presses his heel to the old man’s head– perhaps even more so when his fingers pierce through the muscle and sinew surrounding his spine.  It was the screaming he didn’t like.

Ever the authority figure, Jonah Vogelbaum was not a man who cried out from pain.  In turn, he expected his test subjects to be the same.  To scream was to be punished for being so weak– whether because of fear or pain that his body hadn’t quite learned to protect against.

He almost flinches in preparation for the floor grates of his cell to charge with enough electricity to incapacitate him.

But that was then and this is now.  He stands upon freshly waxed linoleum, not metal grates.  The walls are lined with books and photos of great minds his father found inspiring, not blank white panels.  On the wall ahead is the painting of God creating Adam.

He stares at it as he wraps his fist around his father’s spinal cord and rips it clean out.

His ears ring.

He, too, has sinned against his creator; however, he had been damned from the start. There was no Eden for him. Not unless he took it. 

When he finishes, he leaves a trail of bodies.  Workers, supes, emergency teams– anyone he came across.  Not even The Seven was spared his fury.

The only one he makes it quick for is Noir.

The rest of the world isn’t so lucky.

He wipes the Pentagon off the map entirely.  Targets military installations around the country– torches them all and leaves nothing but craters and ash once he’s done.

The little boy once strapped to a nuclear reactor is a force greater than anything they can throw at him.  He practically giggles when he walks off the first atomic bomb.  He’d been just south of San Antonio when they lobbed it at him.

The pilot who dropped it wasn’t so lucky.  Nor the town a few miles away.

He takes out every missile silo his x-ray eyes can find.  Chokes out every detail he can from every soldier with rank worth a squirt of piss until he’s squeezing it out of politicians.

Eventually, even the president.  

He paints the White House red.

Kicks his feet up on the desk, utterly drenched in gore, as he declares himself America’s new leader over the emergency broadcast network– the former’s head rests beside him on the table.  He promises the world will be his.  He vows.

The UN scrambles.  Every nation considers their options.

He laughs.

When they come for him– when he’s eviscerated every supe or cockroach with a gun who dares to think of challenging his rule– he simply smiles.  He laughs and laughs as he litters America’s streets with carcasses of soldiers– of tanks and aircrafts.

He even dives down to find the submarines, pulling them deeper and deeper until the ocean’s pressure devastates their hulls and crushes everyone inside.  He sinks the boats, throws the jets into space, destroys everything until his path of destruction leads him to the front door of every world leader who even so much as humored the thought of taking what was rightfully his.

He makes sure to present the corpses in broad daylight.  He wants everyone to see.

Some cheer.  Tyrants dangled above their heads, blood dripping over the masses.

He is their savior.

Others jeer.

Their heads roll.

He thins the herd of every nation in this way.  Reminds them all of who they serve now,  of what god has seen fit to free them of their spineless rulers and protect them.

All he demands is their love.

That they fall to their knees and pray to him in their time of need.  That they respect the natural order, revere those who have been elevated above them and tear down those who would seek to destroy it.

He reminds them: he can hear everything. He can see through everything.

He will know.

God will know.

Months later, he has them adorn him the way he should have been all along.  He hosts a competition from his new throne– from the tower now stable and powerful once more.  A testament to his glory.

“The winner earns my favor.” He told them.  Thirty costume designers tasked to create a suit worthy of a king.  Something regal, something fierce.

Something for him.

He cuts down those who put forth no effort, offering only designs rotten and abysmal, unbecoming of their god. They should have known better.

They serve as a warning.

One by one, he rages about how they must see him.  Ugly colors, a lack of originality, stupid designs.  One by one, he hands out punishments in abundance.

Until one designer in particular approaches him.  The very last one.  A steely eyed old woman who had worked for Vought for some time.  He recognizes her from his first ever fitting.  She designed the one he wears now.

Before him, she holds a piece of paper and an item covered by fabric.  Homelander chooses not to spoil his own surprise.  Had it been anyone else, he’d have assumed it was garbage beneath that covering, but that look in her eyes dared to differ.

She doesn’t kneel the way the others did.  Doesn’t sputter through justifications on what she shows him or why she thinks it would look best.  She simply hands him the paper and waits.

“And where is this suit?”  He asks with a hint of excitement.

“All good things in time, my lord.”  The woman replies.  Instead, she extends her arms and offers him the covered item.  “For now, I have this.”

A grin carves into his face, eager and pleased with such a creation.  Something fitting for a king.  Something he should’ve had all along.  Carved laurels and gems of deep crimson nested in that touch, that flair he’s been missing this whole time.

For what is a king without his crown?

[six-white-venus]

MY FAVORITE WORD EVER

rot

OR!!

gone

you find my corpse on a bright summer morning.

you break into my freezing cabin with a raised eyebrow. unphased. curious. then, a slow smile appears. i am immediately wary.

it has been years since i’ve had visitors in my humble abode and i like it that way. the cold keeps me safe. my body rots like a bruise swells; slow, painful, with withering purples and blues. it stretches the time of my body in this land into an endless limbo that i clutch with my cold, dead hands. my heart is still and i am numb, have been so for a long, long time. i am safe.

you find my corpse on a summer morning and stomp into my home/hell with eyes ablaze and teeth flashing and if i was alive, my heart would’ve seized at the sight. you lug my body to my backyard, unflinching. the sun burns my skin and everything hurts and i want to kick and scream and thrash in your hold because you idiot, you stupid motherfucker, don’t you know the rot sets in faster when life is around?

but dead men don’t scream, don’t move. you drop me on the grass with heaving breaths and all i could do is burn while the cicadas sing of my second demise. then, you start talking.

you tell me about your day and ask me about mine and barrel on when all you’re met with is silence. you tell me of the sky, the wind, and your favourite sundress. you must be insane. out of your fucking mind. don’t you see this rotting vessel of mine? my unseeing gaze and blue lips and cracking skin? don’t you smell the rot, the death? you surely do. then why aren’t you running? no, stop. stop moving closer. you madman, leave me in this wretched place. the warmth of your touch will only make me fester, don’t you see?

but you stay. you tell me how the crisp apple bursts into a delightful sweetness when you sink your teeth into it and pull my head to your lap. you tell me about your mom’s cooking and let my cold seep into your skin. my mouth is sewn shut and you are holding me so gently and i want to scream for mercy, for an ounce of cruelty. give me back my home, you villain. give me back my hell.

ice melts. the heat thaws my flesh and the rot digs into my body with its talons unsheathed and merciless. you pitch a tent next to my body and spend your nights here. night after night, i listen to the lull of your heart and watch the rise and fall of your chest as my body breaks itself down from inside out. i am warm.

and you, stubborn, baffling, ethereal you; you stay. the next day and all the days after that. the stench is getting unbearable now. i can see it in your eyes, in every ragged breath of yours. a corpse will remain a corpse no matter how much it is loved. there are only so many stories you can tell without gagging at the sight of this monstrosity. the sun always sets. stories end. love lives where life does. your kindness never did have a place between my blackened teeth and diseased heart, my dear.

but you come back with a gentle brush of lips against my decaying forehead. your hand cradles my rotten head. my sweet warmth, there you are. won’t you leave?

you won’t, right?

you dig my grave all by yourself. six feet deep, seven feet tall because you want me to be comfortable. what a useless gesture. i learn love feels like the glow of the moon and feather soft touches and a grave dug with bare hands.  you lift me in your arms, careful not to jostle me too much, lest i fall apart. kindness feels like a siren’s lullaby and i can feel my eyes droop. it’s dangerous and so very beautiful.

things are different in my new home. numbness feels so far away. there is life thrumming in my veins and eating away at my flesh. you bring me flowers everyday- chrysanthemums, dandelions and tulips- you tell me they remind you of me. how foolish. how very wonderful.

soon, i will bloom into all the flowers you can dream of from this very earth you laid me in. soon, i will rise, petals unfurling, laugh booming. i will weave myself in your braids and take root in your chest and spread down to the very tips of your fingers. my darling, my sun, my rose; i promise i will find you on a bright summer morning.