#I probably spent way too much time on this

[chuuyasheaven]

Lovely wife on the surface, freak under the sheets !! (Fyodor, Dazai, Chuuya)

TAGS. F. Dostoevsky, D. Osamu, C. Nakahara (separately) / Wife! Fem! Reader, p in v, oral sex, Fyodor’s might not be as spicy as the other two, masturbating (Fyodor), teasing, pet names, slight praise and degrading, slight brat taming (Fyodor, Chuuya), breeding kink (Chuuya), mentions of getting prego (Chuuya), might have grammar errors, etc.

NOTES. First two finals were good, yesterday in the english one, there was a task of writing a story and guess what I did? I wrote a cringy angsty soukoku fan fic 😭 but yeah small Drabble to feed y’all pookies!!!

F. DOSTOEVSKY

Everyone thinks you and Fyodor are a good match, because look at you! His pretty little wife who does everything she’s told, never thinking of saying ‘no’ to her husband.

But sometimes, you like being a little disobedient just to get punished by him. So that’s why you probably were fingering yourself, the cold wedding ring adding more to the pleasure. When Fyodor caught you, your legs were spread and your wet cunt was on display for him, so he obviously knew that you let yourself get caught on purpose.

“Such a naughty little wife, hm?”, Fyodor hummed as he slowly let his finger drag across your wet folds, picking up your wetness. “My, my, look at how wet you are, darling. Couldn’t even wait for me to come back, no? You know your fingers aren’t good as mine.”, he was right, his pale, long slender fingers could reach spots you never could on your own. “I know, but you took so long!!”, you whined, “Please help me out, Fedya.”, Fyodor chuckled, two fingers, going around your dripping cunt to avoid it. “I don’t know, a naughty wife who doesn’t follow her husbands orders shouldn’t get the pleasure they crave.”, wasn’t he right though? He specifically told you not to pleasure yourself when he wasn’t around, didn’t he?

“C’mon, Fedya, please!”, you begged him, moving around to get his fingers to touch your cunt at least once. “So desperate, aren’t we?”, he teased, a smirk making it on his face. “I’ll never do it again, promise. . You were gone for too long and I just missed you! Please, please, please, Fedya! Need your fingers in me.”, aw that’s cute, maybe he should give in to your pleas? “Do you think you deserve it, my dear?”, you better not lie and say something he didn’t wanna hear. “No but I’ll make it up to you! I will earn it.”, Fyodor really didn’t think of this answer, but went with it either way. “You’re gonna earn it?”, you nodded and sat up. “Promise.”, He was satisfied with that.

“Then come and earn it, love.”

D. OSAMU

Dazai wasn’t the possessive type, but when it came to you, his wife, then he might be. Especially when a man was flirting with you, even though you clearly have a ring on your finger! Luckily for you, Dazai was with you when this happened earlier. All that happened because of the dress you had on, a dress which was hugging your figure nicely, hell, if he didn’t know any better he would be flirting with you too!

Well, bless the heavens and the above for catching you before anyone else did, because you feel way too good than you should, he also had the privilege of ripping the very same dress of off you.

“You look way too sexier than you should, ‘donna.”, Dazai was working his tongue on your cunt, sending light vibrations to it by talking to you. You just nodded, being a little spent because this was going on for two rounds straight. “Oh, so you agree?”, he asks you, his hot breath moving further away from your cunt. “No, Dazai— don’t stop!”, you whined, but Dazai just chuckled deeply. “I gotta disagree with you on this one, sweetheart. . I think you’re rather divine, your taste especially.”, this teasing asshole, why was he asking you questions instead of making you cum for a third time. “My beautiful wife, thinking she isn’t sexy. . Maybe I need to convince her?”, Dazai was standing up, giving you the illusion of depriving you of your— much deserved in your opinion —orgasm. But no, he was far from done with you.

The amount of bliss you felt when he pushed his cock in you, nearly screaming of how sudden it was to you. “I think I already know how to.”, his hips started moving against yours while his hands were holding onto yours. Your moans were pulled from you again, you grabbed the sheets in the amount of pleasure he made you feel.

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby. . Just keep being such a good wife for me, ‘kay?”

C. NAKAHARA

Before your husband, Chuuya, came through the door, you were backing him a small cake. Just like a good wife should, also wearing a cute apron with the saying “Kiss the chef”. All went well so far and Chuuya walked through the door, not to greet you, that is.

You are a good wife, but sometimes you can be a little deceiving. A prime example being those photos you sent Chuuya at least a hour before his work ended, photos which included you in his favorite lace lingerie with the caption “miss you”. And what was your reason? Just to tease him a little, maybe a little motivation to work faster to get home earlier.

He was impatient, he’s been waiting for a hour to get home to you, just to not even get to the bedroom. That’s right, he was gonna take you right at the kitchen counter. Chuuya took off your shirt to see you were still wearing the set, a smirk was curving up on his lips. “You’re still wearing this, doll?”, he asked you, since you were bent over the counter he couldn’t see your smile on your face, but he could hear your giggle. “Yeah, just for you.”, you admitted in a teasing tone. “Just for me? Well then allow me. .”, he replied, pulling your lace panties to the side.

Chuuya wasn’t going slow at it, he was basically going so fast and hard that the counter legit started to shake slightly. His hips slapping against your ass, your moans filling the kitchen along side by his groans and breathy cursing. “Couldn’t wait for me to— mhm, fuck —to come home, hm? Sendin’ me photos of you looking so perfect sayin’ you miss me.”, he groaned, all you replied with was a moan. “Such a little slut, you jus’ wanted to get fucked, didn’t you? Teasin’ me at work just for a good fuck.”, Chuuya could feel his orgasm approaching, your cunt clenching around him only sped up the process.

“Ch–chuuya— ngh!”, you moaned out his name in bliss, Chuuya sped up the pace. “Want me to cum inside you, baby? Want me to fill you up so fuckin’ good?”, he asked in a low mocking tone, waiting for a response from you. “Y–yes! Ah— please!”, his cock twitched when you gave him the permission. “Yeah? Gonna fill you up so much you’ll be leakin’. . ‘till you might get pregnant.”, he didn’t really mean it, did he? It was all in the heat of the moment, right? Nonetheless, it turned you on with the way he said it. A deep chuckle was heard from him as he felt you clench down again. “You like that, doll? You wanna get pregnant with our child— oh fuck —you’re squeezin’ me so tight. . You sure you want it?”, you repeatedly moaned a yes, making him smirk. “C–cumming!”, you almost screamed, the amount of pleasure being a bit overwhelming.

“Yeah, just like that. . Take it like a good girl, baby. Hm— keep clenchin’ like that so nothin’ spills, understood?”

Hi again 😋 hope y’all are well fed now :3

[namisin]

❝ HOPE WHEN THE MOON GOES—

(—THAT YOU DON'T GO.)

⚝ pairing : gojo satoru x reader.

⚝ synopsis : satoru likes you to a painful degree, dare he say he loves you. everyone but you can see it. the problem? you only want to be friends (with benefits).

⚝ content : 18+, fem reader, tiniest bit of angst, fwbs to lovers, oral (m receiving), college au, piv, pet names, brief mention of dubcon? (drunk reader), mentions of alcohol, rated w for whiny gojo, pet name(s), prὁne-bone, possessiveness, praise bc he's just a sweetie, choking, reader is spoiled but so is he, MDNI.

⚝ word count : 3.2k | 11 min read. y'all idk how this happened

⚝ a/n : gege please dpwm i need my man back this INSTANT. but tysm u guys for the warm welcome !! like, comment &/or reblog for smooches on the mouf ♡

𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 friday night, another club outing satoru did not wanna be on.

granted, it was a setting that would otherwise be right up his alley. satoru was the life of the party after all, the loudest one in the room without fail. but he could distinctly remember the point before your arrangement began, and after.

it didn't matter before that he could get anyone he wanted, have any warm body take up space in his king-sized bed. it didn't matter that you could do the same; dance up on anyone, grind your perfect ass against them until they had no presence of mind but to follow your piper's song to the nearest empty room. then regale your best friends with the details the next morning.

however, after the first time you propositioned him, drunk out of your mind but purring in his lap like a needy cat, it only became harder and harder for him to keep his hands to himself in public. his patience to wait out these parties to get you home wore thinner, to the point of near-nonexistence. obnoxiously thrumming bass, bodies smacking together like mindless fish caught in a net, having to yell and strain to hear his friends standing less than a foot in front of him...things he never minded at all before became all too fucking annoying.

but you've always acted as his life raft, bidding his escape with a, "wanna get out of here, toru?"

and he followed every single time, ignoring shoko's wiggling eyebrows and geto's smirking as you led the way out the door. their jeering bounced right off his skin; he felt damn-near invincible knowing he'd be having his own kind of fun, with much better music.

tonight was no different. you stood by the bar, drumming your fingers against the counter while waiting for the bartender to return with two drinks. satoru's eyes roved over your body shamelessly over the rim of oval glasses, taking in the expanse of your legs that weren't covered by your leather miniskirt and the way your top hugged to your figure. he approached with his bottom lip tucked, much like his hands in the pockets of his pants.

by the time he arrived to stand next to you, the glasses were placed down with a muted "clunk," just barely perspiring as his usual was passed into his freed palm.

"my saviour," he greeted, bent over at the waist to let the words brush against your ear, "what would i do without you?"

"mmm-mm," you shrugged, grinning in return, "probably die of thirst."

satoru exhaled sharply through his nose, rightening his posture to take a sip of his drink. he caught the double entendre he wasn't even sure you meant to drop — there was a constant thirst inside him that you really were the only cure for. a thirst to hear you whine and beg for him, call him toru in that sweet tone that made him want to legally shorten his name.

another long sip.

the way he wanted, no needed, you was almost obsessive. he knew that. but could he be blamed? you were pure temptation wrapped in the most enticing body; you were the raging flame and he was but a moth, acting on pure instinct to capture that warmth for his own. every night he spent with you was a testament to that effort, prodding and caressing your body in every way he knew how. he pulled every trick out of his book to have you writhing on his sheets. satoru was sure the neighbours hated you both, but at least they knew his name well.

"you lovebirds coming over to the table?" shoko raised a thin brow at the pair of you, an unlit cigarette hanging from her lips.

"lovebirds? sho please, you know better," you laughed, crossing the space to link arms with her.

ah. satoru felt a twinge of something pinch in his chest. that problem still remained.

he worshipped the ground you walked on, blessed your name like you were his deity, but you still only saw him as a friend. granted, he was a friend with extensive benefits, but a friend nonetheless. hell, for as long as you two have had this arrangement, you've never spent a full night with him — instead opting to scoop your clothes off the floor, grab a quick shower and bid him a soft goodnight, simultaneously calling yourself an uber as you left his apartment.

his face was much dimmer following behind you and shoko, having dropped a small wad of cash he didn't count on the bar-top, and he drew his glass back to his lips in an attempt to quell that pinching feeling.

it wasn't as if he never offered for you to stay the night, never lifted his messy sheets on the opposite side he always kept vacant for you. but, it was hard to stay persistent when you always answered with some variation of, "thanks toru, but we're just friends, remember? i don't wanna make it weird for us."

he watched your hips sway under your skirt with a furrow in his brow. the hem flapped around the very tops of your thighs, drawing other eyes that weren't his own cerulean pair to its attention. he itched to make a show of you being his — maybe throw an arm over your shoulders or lean down to peck your lips — but knew how well (not well at all) it would go down with the other party if you caught on.

it just meant he had to be the one to get you out of there sooner.

satoru let you have your fun, down a responsible-enough number of shots, twist your hips this way and that on the dancefloor with geto and shoko. they both towered over you, almost forming a protective ring of raven black and coffee brown around your twirling body, and he was grateful for it. the imagery alone of some other person creeping up behind you, grabbing at your waist in an attempt to steal a dance, was enough to tighten that vulnerable spot in his chest.

after downing the rest of his second drink, he stood, leaving another roll of money in shoko's purse and making a beeline for you on the dancefloor. geto parsed him with a knowing look as he squeezed passed them, shoko only gave a thumbs up and a wide grin. they both knew all about what went on between you two, and they knew all too well how much satoru pined over you.

if it wasn't the way he looked at you, or the way he'd mindlessly put his hands on the small of your back, on your hips, around your shoulders, then it'd have to be the fact that he grouched about it at every given opportunity. the minute you left him alone, he'd go on and on until one of them had to smack him in the back of the head to shut up.

so, watching him slot his hips to yours, immediately winding them in tandem to the beat, they understood quickly to leave the pair of you to your little world.

"let me take you out of here, y/n," he murmured, you spun in his toned arms to settle into his torso. your arms circled his neck as he pushed his nose closer to yours to bump them together.

"you stole my line," you drawled, "getting impatient on me, toru?"

satoru bit back a groan, the way you spoke coupled with the eyes you gave him from beneath the canopy of your lashes was staggering.

"maybe i am, you're holdin' out on me."

you blew a raspberry of a laugh at his frown, "you saw me last night, you baby."

"twenty-four whole hours too long."

your eyes rolled unconsciously, he could be such a little shit when he didn't have his way. still, you were never one to deny him.

"take me home then, before you start sobbing for pussy in the club."

a triumphant beam overtook his face at that, he actively disregarded the teasing lilt to your words. all he heard was "take me home," and it was like you waved kikufuku in his face.

he picked up you up easily, princess-style, making you squeal and nearly kick a patron close by. you giggled out your apologies, but satoru was already leaving, carting you off to the exit of the club.

your back landed hard against his front door when he put you down again, and his body followed right behind. your lips crashed together with fervor, teeth colliding and tongues looping around each other. you mewled so sweetly into his mouth as his hands wandered up under your top, grabbing hold of your tits over your bra. his cock twitched in its confines, you had an effect on him that would be scary if he didn't relish in it so much.

"lose this shit already," satoru huffed against your lips while tugging the hem of your blouse upwards. you obliged with the nth roll of your eyes, and with the top gone, you pulled him back down for another searing kiss.

you marked your path downward after switching your positions, pushed his shirt up to his chest to lick a wet stripe down his abs, until you came face-to-face with the sizeable bulge in his pants. he smoothed your hair away from your face while you pulled his belt buckle apart. an exhale stuttered in his chest — you mouthed around his bulge from the outside of his boxer-briefs, though with the sounds satoru made, you may as well have shoved the whole thing into your mouth.

deciding to end his misery, you hooked your manicured fingers into the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock free to smack against your cheek. you licked another matching stripe up the underside, shadowing the pulsing trail that was his most dominant vein, then kitten-licked at his slit once you hit the peak.

with one hand wrapped around the base of his cock and the other on his thigh, you took his pretty pink tip into your mouth, and his face absolutely crumpled.

satoru groaned, long and low, his head thumping against the door as it was thrown back. you could feel the corners of your mouth tingling from the stretch, straining a little to fit around his girth despite making this journey countless times by now.

he stammered out a hiss when his tip hit the back of your throat, you would've laughed if not for the fact that you desperately held off your gag reflex. his grip on your hair tightened, coming to hold it in a fist to both keep the hair out of your face and guide your movements as you sunk further down his length. you breathed through your nose and willed your throat to relax, more broken sounds sprang from his lips as you let him in.

"f-fuck, just like that, pretty," he praised hoarsely, gently bobbing your head up and down his length with his grip on your hair. you powered through the tears flooding your lashline and the rivulets of spit accumulating to drip down your chin.

while he worked your mouth, you pried your lids apart to peer up at him, eyes rimmed red and pupils blown wide.

and that was his undoing.

his body tensed hard as he held your head down, nose right up against his pelvis and tickled with snow-white hairs. his abdomen spasmed under the point of it, undulating as he painted your throat white.

"you're so fucking good to me," he mumbled against your lips after helping you back to your feet. satoru, of course, was the shameless type to make the fuck out with you right after dumping his cum into your mouth; and he did just that. he picked you up again while his tongue swiped over yours, blindly walking you up the stairs to his bedroom.

he plopped you down unceremoniously, pulling your legs apart to sink between them. you'd lost the skirt somewhere along the way, that left nothing but your thong to separate you from satoru's still-leaking, still-hard dick. however, even those got ripped down your legs and tossed to the side — every article of clothing was a victim in his ever-expanding need for you.

"i need to fuck you, will you le'me fuck you?" he babbled in a pitchy, fissured voice, circling your clit with his fingers. he dipped them shallowly in and out of your hole to smear your wetness right across your folds. all he needed was for you to nod the affirmative before he was rapidly replacing his digits with the head of his cock, gathering your syrupy arousal to drench him.

"just suckin' me off has you this wet, hmm? i knew you liked me."

"sh-shut up and put it in already, toru- hate it when you tease."

satoru snickered, but complied, grabbing at your legs again to flip your body over. he knew you loved getting fucked prone the most, you didn't even hesitate to grab a pillow to hold on to. something about the way you seemed to scream for him that much louder, claw at the sheets and burble for him to give you more more more— made it his new favourite position too.

so, with little hesitation, he positioned and pushed his cock into you, slowly enough for you to adjust to his girth. your eyes rolled back almost immediately, the way he filled you up could never get old.

you mewled into the pillow once he found a good starting pace, dragging his cock deliciously slow against your spongy walls. still, it was only a taste of what you knew he could give to you.

"more, toru, want more- shit!"

you barely started getting the greedy words out before satoru was settling a hand on the small of your back, using it and his palm flat against the bed as leverage to drill into you. now that he knew you were adjusted, he didn't hold back — what kind of guy would he be if he didn't give his girl everything she wanted (and then some)?

drool and tears soaked into the white pillowcase while your sticky essence doused his cock, collecting in a ring at the plinth of it. repetitive strings of "fuck yes!" mingled with his deep groans to ring throughout the room, bouncing off the walls in conjunction with his hips bouncing off your plush ass. he couldn't help but free up a palm to smack it, then two, three more times when he heard how much more noisy it made you.

"g'nna cum for me? yea?" he took note of the way you started to quake beneath him, your cunt clenching and releasing uncontrollably around his length. he knew your tells by now, and that quiver in your moans told him everything without you needing to say a word. satoru secured his hand around your throat, squeezing just enough at the sides for your brain to go foggy and remaining thoughts turn to mush.

like a thief in the night, your orgasm stole through you, bringing the simmer in your blood to a boil. heat flashed through your body, collecting to pulse through the walls of your cunt that clamped down against satoru's battering. with another ruined groan, he was right behind you, cock twitching and throbbing wildly inside you. rope after rope splattered your insides, though that didn't stop his hips from jerking in a fractured pattern.

you both came down panting. you turned in his arms to look up at him, his softened eyes were already centered on your face. as mean as he was when he fucked, he was always otherwise gentle with you — tender in a way that made a part of you melt with every touch. but he was your friend, and you both had a good system going. what would be the point of ruining it?

"what're you thinkin' about so hard already?" satoru's usual pouty cadence returned quick, successfully knocking your thoughts off track.

"i need a shower," was your only reply, and you moved to crawl from beneath him. your bed-partner's features toppled into a genuine frown; he knew exactly what that meant.

you were leaving him again.

but he wouldn't let it happen this time, not if he could help it.

"wait, y/n," he moved to gently grasp your arm before you could scoot off the edge of the bed. you turned to him with question in your gaze.

"let me join you," he propositioned, and a hint of a smile pulled at your lips.

"i don't know if i have the stamina left, toru."

"i won't- we can just shower. y'know, together," he started, freeing your arm to rub at the back of his neck, "and you could, y'know, stay."

your expression turned wry, "toru, you know why i can't-"

"no, actually, y/n. i don't," he scowled, "why can't you? why don't you? we've been close enough for so long, slept together for so long. you know i can take care of you."

exasperated, you stood. he followed quick, moving to hold your arms again. even in his own displeasure, he was mild. you were melting again.

"you tell me all the time we're just friends, but what if- what if i want more? need more, than just friendship with you?"

you gawped up at him, blinking in place of something to say. of course, you always had a kind of a feeling — satoru was not the man known for his subtlety — but it was another thing to hear him say it to you, much less with this desperately pleading intonation.

"satoru, i..." you sighed, "i can't fuck this- we can't fuck this up. you're too precious to me."

"but what if we don't? you're precious to me too, y/n, more than you even know."

and for all you knew, he could be right. he was always sweet with you — patient, attentive, doting, so painfully soft. it wasn't like the thought hadn't crossed your mind before, either. you contemplated staying with him several times before, fantasized on what a 'morning after' — many 'morning-afters' — would even look like. but shit, what would you do if you one of you found a way to mess things up? topple a best-friendship you've had going for more years than you could even trace back?

"i just- i can't lose you, satoru."

"you won't. you're stuck with me forever, pretty, we promised."

he moved to cup your cheeks, holding your face akin to the way someone held precious china.

"i like you way too much. shit, at this point i think i love you."

your bottom lip wobbled. this snow-haired fuck really did always make it hard to say no to him.

"i-i like you too, toru. a lot."

"so you'll stay," he gleamed, making a statement more than he was asking a question, "please say you'll stay."

"yes, toru, fine. i'll stay."

with his smile still very much in place, he leaned down to kiss you.

god, he couldn't wait to finally wake up to you tomorrow.

[neowonderland]

Summary: Jeno never truly understands why his boyfriend, Jaemin sticks next to you

Pairings: Poly! Nomin x reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, noncon

Dark Content, Minor please DNI

Disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. I do not condone the actions of any characters in this story and the actions do not reflect the idols in any way.

Jeno never truly understood why his boyfriend stuck around you.

Jaemin's free to do what he wants, free to spend time and sleep around with whoever. Jeno is free to do the same, but it doesn't stop him from judging Jaemin's decisions.

To Jeno, you were like a caricature of a human being, too sweet, too innocent, too naive. Jeno swears there isn't a thought behind your eyes when you gaze at his boyfriend, Jaemin with your doe eyes, wide, filled with admiration and listening intently to what Jaemin would say.

Jeno never understood why Jaemin would let you touch him, Jaemin letting your fingers card through his hair while he laid his head on your lap, your head resting on his shoulder or your arms wrapped around Jaemin while you two sat on the couch together.

To Jeno, you were a nuisance to both him and his boyfriend, an annoying moth that was drawn to Jaemin like a flame, a fly that could never seem to leave Jaemin alone. Jeno wished that Jaemin tolerated you out of politeness, but the shopping sprees, countless gifts, gentle words and affectionate glances seemed to say otherwise.

Maybe Jeno was jealous, seeing his precious boyfriends attention on someone else other than him. Maybe it was because Jeno wanted to monopolize Jaemin and have Jaemin dote on him the same way he dotes on you.

Either way, Jeno never understood why Jaemin spent so much time with you.

It didn't hit Jeno why until he stumbled upon you and Jaemin together in Jaemin's room, tied up in pretty pink ribbon underneath Jaemin.

Jeno supposes you're pretty in that moment, helpless under Jaemin with pink ribbon tied in knots and bows traveling on the expanse of your body. It's a pretty contrast against your skin and Jeno knows Jaemin probably picked that shade of pink with the thought of wrapping you in it.

You're crying too, large tears rolling down your face as you tell Jaemin to let you go, that you don't want this, that he can stop anytime he wants and that you won't tell anyone about this. Of course, Jaemin ignores you, opting to bully himself further into your walls, eyes fluttering and groaning as he feels you around him.

Jeno knows you're warm and so tight, almost too tight for Jaemin by the way Jaemins groans and how he tells you that you're "too tight" and that your insides are "not letting go" of him. Jaemin calls you his "little fucktoy" and how you must've been acting that way to get fucked by him.

Jeno guesses it's cute when you shake your head profusely at what Jaemin says, more tears spilling down as you try to form a response from your red, swollen lips. You're struggling against the ribbon, against Jaemin and that brings out a chuckle from him.

It isn't until Jeno bangs his fist against the doorframe that his presence is known and Jaemin invites him to come join him.

It isn't until Jeno is sinking himself into your heat that he truly understands exactly why Jaemin sticks around you.

[nurse-sainz]

Broken Promises - Part 2

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader

Anon request: I wanted to make a request for an angst by Charles Leclerc, where they have an argument because he has been very distant but he doesn't want to accept it and end up saying hurtful things without knowing how to fix things later.

I took this request and ran with it deciding it would be a good continuation of this fic

Warning: mentions of crash, ICU and hospital stays. Angst with a sweet ending.

The evening spent with Max had been amazing, if you were being honest you dreaded going back to your apartment to the loud noise and people and just wanted to spend it by the ocean with him. He managed to convince you…or maybe it was the birthday cake that was waiting. It was definitely the cake. 

He led you back to your apartment and you managed to sneak back in, Arthur and Lorenzo had kept your guests entertained and told them you needed a moment. Turns out the break was exactly what you needed, and of course you were still mad at your brother but it didn’t matter tonight. You smiled as Max brought out your cake and you made a wish before blowing out your candles. The pair of you cut a slice to save to enjoy later when all of your guests had gone for the night. 

The next morning you woke up to a text from Charlies and your bad mood started all over again. 

Charlie: I hope you enjoyed the night, Arthur and Lorenzo said it was good. I’m so sorry once again. 

You didn’t care for his apologies. You were done with him and his promises. 

He must have seen that you’d opened his message but didn’t reply because the next thing you knew his caller ID was lighting up your screen. 

“What?” 

“Is that any way to speak to your brother, sœurette?” 

The tone of his voice just irritated you in a way only one of your brothers could. How could he speak to you like that after how he treated you yesterday. 

“What do you want, Grand frère?” You almost spat the pet name you use for him. 

“I told you I was sorry, y/n. Did you have a good time?” 

“No, Charlie. I didn’t. I wanted you there. You promised me. Arthur and Lorenzo were there and Max. The only reason I didn’t cancel was because he convinced me.” 

Charles knew there was no point arguing with you further when you were like this and he’d been beating himself up ever since he’d sent that text; but duty called. He had to work and he couldn’t get out of it, especially with how last minute his team had called him in. 

He sighed, “will I be seeing you at the race this weekend?” 

“Yes. Unlike you, I keep my promises. I’ll be there, but not for you Charlie. I’m going for Max.” 

“Y/n wait-” 

You didn’t bother listening to what he had to say, “goodbye Charles.” You hung up, cringing at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles. 

Max walked into the kitchen where you were sitting at the breakfast bar and kissed you as he passed. “Was that Charles?” 

“Yeah, just asking if I was coming to the race this weekend.” 

“You need to for-” 

“If you say forgive him so help me Verstappen,” you warned slightly playfully but also not wanting or willing to forgive your brother just yet.  

He held his hands up in surrender, “just, don’t give him too much of a hard time, he’s probably been beating himself up over it.” 

You knew Max was right, but still he’d hurt you. Two days later as you made your way through the paddock holding onto Max’s hand you decided to forgo seeing Charles, he was probably too busy anyway. You both made your way to the Red Bull hospitality tent avoiding Ferrari and Charles at all costs. 

Luck, however, wasn’t in your favor. Charles had heard about your arrival and seen it on his socials. He’d seen you in your Red Bull jacket and baseball cap, not a hint of Ferrari red on you. Usually you’d have a piece of merch from both of the drivers in your life, wanting to support the pair of them; but you knew this would piss him off. This was a final act of defiance to show how much you were still angry with him. 

You knew you’d gone too far when you saw a red shirt moving through the crowd of blue. Charles was in your face before you had a chance to react,  “Why are you doing this?” your brother asked. You’d never seen him look so angry and hurt; maybe now he’d understand how you felt the last three years. “I’m your brother and you’re not even supporting me, how is that going to look to the fans?” 

“To the fans? Is that all you care about? Maybe now you know how it feels to have your own sibling not show up for you. Besides, I’m not here to only support you Charlie, Max is my boyfriend and I support him too. He is just as important to me.” 

His face fell, “you know what? I’m done. Do whatever you want y/n but just don’t expect me to be okay with it.” 

You couldn’t help the tears that welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away. 

The few people who were around for your argument slowly went back to their business leaving you alone. Charles nearly slammed into Max as he left the tent to prepare for the race. 

“Charles?” He called but his friend ignored him. He turned back to see you nearly in tears and rushed to your side. 

“What happened?” he asked as he put his arm around you to lead you to somewhere more private, where prying ears couldn’t listen in. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s just get you ready for the race, yeah?” You wiped your tears and turned your attention to him. 

You made your way to the monitors and placed the headset on your ears, standing with the rest of the Red Bull team as the formation lap began. Then it was lights out. 

Max pulled away first, closely followed by Lando, Carlos and Charles. They battled for first place as they inched round the first corner. It always made you nervous seeing your brother so close to the other drivers but thankfully they made it through unscathed. 

You could tell Charles was driving aggressively, the way he inched closer to the McLaren’s on the corners and pushed his car to the limit as he overtook them. You watched nervously, trying to focus on enjoying the race, Charles knew what he was doing. 

Suddenly, a gasp went through the room and time seemed to go in slow motion as Charles' car clipped the back of Lando's, sending it into a horrific flip. Charles’ car somersaulted through the air before it finally crashed down and skidded to a halt, only stopped by the wall. 

Your heart was in your throat as you waited for any signs of life. “What’s going on? Is he responding?” You asked as you all watched on in shock. 

“We don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You called back, you wanted nothing more than to rip the headset off and run to the Ferrari garage. You heard the red flag being called and the cars were called back to the garage, but your focus was on the screens as you watched the medical car rush to the scene. 

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but Max had made it back and was at your side. He walked you over to the Ferrari garage where you were met with red rimmed eyes as they tried to get any information from the track medics. Max could tell you were in shock. He kept tight hold of you, his touch a grounding presence as you waited for any news. 

One of Charles’ engineers made his way over to you and Max as he noticed you standing there. “The medics are with him now, he’s alive but he’s unconscious. They’re working on getting him out.” 

You finally let the tears you’d been holding fall. If it weren’t for Max holding you up you would have fallen to the floor right there. The race was called off, none of the drivers wanting to continue after that. 

You were in a state of panic, your breaths coming in short painful gasps. You wanted nothing more than to be with your brother. “I need to go with him. Let me go!” You cried. 

Max held you tight against his chest, his own face etched with concern for his friend. “We’ll go to the hospital. I’ll get us there, okay? He’s going to be okay. I promise.” 

“You don’t know that,” you looked up at him, tears still streaming freely down your face. Your mind was a whirlwind of guilt and worry. The last words you’d both spoken to each other ran over and over through your head. You couldn’t let this stupid argument be the last thing you both said to each other. 

When you got to the hospital, the news wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You wanted nothing more than to go into his hospital room and see him sitting up; to be able to tell him how sorry you were and how you hated fighting with him. The news wasn’t good though. Your brother was in the ICU, unconscious and his condition though stable was critical. You sat in the waiting room, your hand in Max’s as you waited for a nurse to bring you back to see your brother. 

Hours felt like days before a doctor and nurse finally approached you and Max. They updated you on his injuries and you were finally allowed to see him. Your heart broke as you saw him through the window hooked up to various tubes, machines and wires. 

You hid your face in Max’s chest as your tears fell once more, not being able to look at how broken he looked. You weren’t sure how you even had any tears left to shed. 

“I should have been there for him. I shouldn’t have said those things. He wouldn’t have been driving so recklessly -“ 

Max cut you off, “we all drive like idiots sometimes, it’s the nature of the sport. This wasn’t your fault. He knows how much you love him.”  

You nodded, knowing he was right but the guilt was still there. 

“Do you want to go in and see him? I can come with you or stay out here?” Max asked. 

You nodded and gripped your boyfriend's hand tighter as you both entered his ICU room. All you could do was sit and wait and pray. Pray for Charles to wake up, pray for a chance to make things right. 

You sat by his side, never leaving. You barely slept, your eyes fixed on your brother, willing with everything you had for him to wake up. As the days went by the news was getting better, the machine breathing for him was removed and he was showing signs of recovery, but he still hadn’t woken up. 

It was late into the third night when you felt his hand tighten around yours. You thought you had imagined it at first but your heart leapt when his fingers twitched around yours once more and his eyes began to flutter open. You jumped to your feet, tears flowing down your face once more but this time out of relief. 

“Charlie?” You called hopefully, your voice thick with emotion. 

Charles blinked against the harsh bright lights, disoriented but a small smile came across his lips as his gaze landed on yours.  

He coughed weakly, his voice raspy from disuse, “y/n?” 

“I’m here. I’m right here, Charles,” you reassured, smoothing his hair back. 

He looked at her with a small smile playing at his lips despite everything he’d just been through, “you’re wearing a Ferrari hoodie?” 

You let out a shaky laugh, tears still streaming down your face, “couldn’t exactly be representing Red Bull at a time like this.” 

He laughed, followed by a groan. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I am so sorry for everything. For my birthday and the fight…” 

Charles squeezed your hand weakly, “I’m sorry too. I should have been there, I promised and the fight at the race…I just wanted your support as well. I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you.” 

“None of that matters now. I’m just glad you’re awake. I just need you to be okay.” 

Charles nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll be okay and I promise I will make it up to you,” he held up his pinky which you linked with yours. 

You both stayed like that for a moment, your hand clasped in his. Max stood at the doorway happy to see his friend awake and the pair of you making up. 

As the doctors finished their checks and left the room, you sat down beside Charles, holding his hand. 

“You scared the shit out of me, you know? Why were you driving like a dumbass?” 

Charles let out a small chuckle, “not my finest moment, huh?” 

“No, but you’re going to be okay and that’s all that matters. We can figure everything else out later.” 

Charles nodded, his grip on your hand growing a bit stronger. “Yeah, we will. Together.” 

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Together.” 

The road to recovery wasn’t going to be easy for him but you knew he’d be back to racing and annoying you in no time. He was going to be okay and you two would work through your issues when he was better. That’s all that mattered.

[lurochar]

Well-Fed

It isn't wise harass Alastor's assistant. A man learns this the hard way.

Human Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Violence, unknowing cannibalism

--

What a pleasant night.

“F-fuck, please – what do you want?! I’ll… I’ll do anything!” The man pleaded, sniveling as he tried to crawl back, “J-just don’t kill me!”

What lovely begging.

Alastor hummed, eyeing the fallen man as he wondered in which way he should slaughter him that would best satisfy him and his current needs.

Should he just blow the man’s brain out? It’s not like he needed his head for anything – nothing really too edible there. It always made such a mess.

Maybe cut the man’s throat and make it a quick one? It always did give him a thrill to watch the life fade from one’s eyes and the absolute terror on their faces when there was nothing to be done. 

Possibly chop the man’s limbs off and watch him slowly bleed to death? He would probably put up too much of a fight and ruin too much of his meat and it would take far too long.

“Do you remember me?” Alastor asked, causing the man’s eyes to finally look at his face rather than the rifle in hand, “Or actually, do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today?”

“Y-yeah, ‘course I remember you!” The man simpered, as if sucking up would actually save his life, “You’re Alastor Hartfelt, right? That radio host who’s the talk of the town right now?” His face twitched, “So, why you doing this?! Don’t fucking tell me…!” His eyes widened when he finally figured it out.

He wasn’t getting out of here alive.

“I asked, ‘do you remember the woman at the radio station earlier today’?” Alastor didn’t flinch in the least as he pulled his axe from the holster at his hip, swinging it down in a smooth motion, and easily severing the man’s hand.

He was screaming now, of course, in complete shock at the brutal action and he tried to scramble to his feet to run for his life, but Alastor already had his rifle at the ready, easily shooting him in the foot before he could do anything.

“I’d rather not repeat myself for a third time,” Alastor looked on in a bit of distaste when the man vomited, heaving and twitching around in agony. “It is why you are here, after all.”

The man didn’t answer or didn’t even hear him as he curled up into a sad little ball, causing Alastor to sigh in slight disappointment that his hunt was already over, but preparing meat took time and he had already invited you over to dinner the next night, so it was fine.

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Alastor knew he was talking to himself at this point as he knelt down as he reached for his knife from his belt, “I’d rather you not treat women like objects that you can use whenever you feel like it. Far too many men are like this. Imagine how Y/N felt when you cornered her in my radio station and groped her like a mindless animal? Perhaps as helpless as you are now? In any case, I do not tolerate any disrespect of such kind, especially with my lovely little assistant.”

He was rambling, he knew, he always did get like this when it came to you and your wellbeing.

“I’ve spent too much time on you,” Alastor tightened his grip on his knife, “I have a meal to prepare. I do hope you taste better than you look, my good chum.”

He hoped you liked Jambalaya.

–

“This is amazing!”

Alastor smiled, feeling absolutely pleased at your joyful expression as you took a bite of his cooking, clearly delighting in the flavour, “It’s my mother’s recipe, you see.” His eyes flashed, a dark satisfaction building up in him, “I’m glad you like it. I thought the meat might have been of too low quality.”

“No, no!” You went to reassure him, “I’m nothing fancy!” You eagerly took another bite. “You are a very good cook. Your mother must have taught you well. She must be very proud.”

“I would like to think so.” Alastor’s smile softened briefly at the thought, “I do try to be nothing less than a true gentleman. I believe my mother would have liked you very much so. I would like to share more of her recipes with you, if I may be so bold to ask?”

You flushed, looking down at your food before peering back up to Alastor with a shy smile, “I would like that too.” You did not recognize the mania behind Alastor’s eyes as you continued to eat his cooking.

“I’ll keep you well-fed, my dear.”

[taintandviolent]

Lime Green Jell-O; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Reader is in a situationship with Peter Maximoff. It's been casual on both ends, or so you thought. You think he's jealous and you decide to tease a little hard. Peter can't take the heat, though.

word count: 2K!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of jealousy, possible jealousy kink.

a/n: anonymous request! you guys keep asking me to write Peter, and I'm nervous every single time, istg. I hope it delivered, and you enjoyed reading it! ps: dividers are by firefly-graphics!

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

Peter sat bolt upright, as if you’d just announced the most horrible thing in the world. Which to him, you had. 

"So, you've been seeing other guys?" Peter asked painfully casually, working overtime to control the pitch of his voice. Any hint of his true feelings and he'd be done for. 

You scoffed, feigning offense. "Of course I have." You gulped down the last bit of soda, and crawled over on the bed to throw it in the bin. Most of your free days were spent in his room, fooling around, playing video games with him, and watching whatever cheesy movie he’d put on. He seemed to think you had extra free-time that you’d spent with other guys.

Though it was only a nano-second, Peter's brows furrowed, and his lips frowned. You narrowed your eyes, and he immediately shifted in his jacket, returning to his previous state. No way she saw that. No way -- it was too fast. He darted to the bed, standing in front of you. 

Getting to your knees, you squared up. Inhaled and closed your mouth, crossing your arms firmly across your chest, underneath your breasts. Your shirt was low-cut enough that he saw the shift in your cleavage. He clenched his jaw, averting his dark eyes elsewhere. This wasn’t the time to start getting a stiffie. 

"Peter," you started, a reprimanding tone in your voice. If he was going to pull the loyalty card now… you smirked. "The first time we hooked up you said, and..." You brought your fingers up to make quotes in the air, in front of his face. "I quote: 'Nothin' serious, babe'. So....." 

Damn. Peter pushed his lips forward, nodding. "Right, yeah, I did say that. And I so totally meant it." 

"Good, so… you shouldn't care if things are getting pretty serious with one of them. Like... really serious. Serious enough that we might have to stop hanging out as much." Bam. Mic drop. 

That was a lie; a blatant one. Little did he know, you had been dating casually, but doing so completely uninterested. No one had matched your silver speedster; not in sex, not in personality, not in anything. He had zipped his way into your heart and wasn’t leaving. You weren’t about to let him know that though, and decided to dig a little deeper with the teasing. He was cute when he was jealous… which he was. You knew it. 

Instead of confessing everything right then and there, Peter stiffened and mirrored your position; arms crossed over his muscled chest. He shook his head and shrugged. Cool as cucumber. No way were you winning this one. 

You smirked again, this time, raising a single brow. "Are you... jealous, Maximoff?" 

"Pffffbfbbtbt." Peter blew air through his lips, slicing his hand through the air like he was swatting a fly away. "Totally not jealous." 

"Good, because if you were, you'd hate to hear that Tommy and I went on the most adorable date the other night, and he was --" 

His hands flew up, waving slightly. "Woah, don't need to hear the deetz, babe. No thanks." 

"Oh no? I think you are jealous... I absolutely think you are, because..." 

Peter's fingers shushed you, smushing into the fullness of your pout. He didn't want to hear the (probably one-hundred percent correct) explanation that followed the 'because'. Your eyebrows flew up on your forehead, expectantly. You tried to speak through his finger, but he pressed harder. Peter screwed up his expression before rolling his eyes towards the ceiling. He huffed a breath, and looked back at you.

You yanked your face away, narrowing your eyes into knowing slits. You barked out a laugh, unable to control it. He had always been a terrible liar, but this took the cake. “Oh, you totally are. You are lime-green Jell-o, Peter.”

“I am not.” 

“Are too.” You jabbed your index finger into his pec. “You so are.” 

He huffed and dropped his arms. You weren’t budging, and if he kept up, you’d win. He knew it, you knew it. It was a good old-fashioned standoff. You cocked your hip out to the side. 

"Okay, so maybe I am jealous. Fine. Sure. Whatever. Now, c'mere."

Exhaling heavy over his bottom lip, Peter took hold of your face and pulled you into a warm kiss. The tips of his fingers stroked your hairline, urging you closer to him - as close as he could get you without melting into you. Surprised, your eyes widened into the kiss, but after a few seconds, you couldn’t help but melt into him. 

"Peter, Peter," you murmured into his lips, pushing away slightly to look over his face with a weighted gaze. "You're really jealous?" 

Saying nothing, he nodded heavily and went back to kissing you, his tongue slipping along your bottom lip before breaching. You whimpered into his lips, the vibration tickling slightly. Peter pressed his chin into yours, gently forcing you to scoot backwards on the bed. The kiss deepened for a moment before Peter broke it, his dark orbs scanning your face. 

“Yeah,” he whispered over your lips before urging your back against the mattress. “I am super jell-o…” He mocked. 

“Want you for myself. All for myself. Okay? Just… lemme’...” 

Peter nuzzled your neck, soft lips ghosting the skin and peppering kisses from your ear lobe down to your collarbone. Just above there, he began suckling the skin, pulling it into his mouth. He sucked harder and harder until you finally yelped, jerking your head away slightly. The skin left his mouth with a wet pop. 

"Ow! Peter, what are you doing?" 

"Markin' my territory.... err.... something." He pulled back to look at his handiwork. The skin where he'd been sucking was scarlet, heading to purple, and by that evening, it would be a wicked bruise.  A little gift for whoever you saw next, if it wasn't him.

He grinned as you rubbed at the skin, feeling the tenderness of it. “Did you just give me a hickey?” 

“Maaaybe.” 

“You dork,” you murmured. Peter crushed his lips against yours again, inhaling your scent. His hands trailed up your waist, gripping it hungrily. This is exactly what you’d thought about earlier; every time he touched you, it felt electric, and nobody had even come close to that sensation. You bucked your hips up into his, grinding against the tent in his sweatpants. Peter pressed back against you, hissing through his teeth at the sudden welcome friction. Beneath the fabric, you felt the heat and pressure of his hardening cock and whined. 

“What the heck d’ya want, babe? What am I doin’ wrong here? You want a romantic? You want a casanova?” 

“No,” you started, raking your nail along his t-shirt, the fabric catching underneath your nail and exposing his luscious neck just a little bit. “I  just want you, Peter. Only you. No other guys matter, and I only… I only said that because you said it was casual, I didn’t want to seem desperate.”

“I dunno, I think I’m actin’ pretty desperate right now.” He rutted his hips against you, his cock bumping into your cloth-covered cunt again. You bit your lip, rolling your eyes back. Every whimper, moan and mewl you made coursed through his veins, straight to his dick. They made it ache, and burn, and he couldn’t help but roll his hips against yours, dry-humping you urgently. 

“Fuck me, Peter.” 

Just what he wanted to hear. He nodded in response and brought his fingers to the waistband of your pajama pants, slipping inside. He drug his middle finger up along your folds, smearing your precum over the warm flesh. You were already so wet, Peter grit his teeth, slipping a single digit inside. You vocalized at the sensation, and he slipped another finger in, pumping them in and out slowly. You loved when he did that; just felt you, played with you like a little sex toy. 

His nimble fingers slipped out, and began toying with your cunt, making tiny, quick circles on your swollen clit. The muscles of your thighs quivered hard and deep with every pass of the pad of his finger. He always knew how to make you writhe around, practically shivering with pleasure. You felt the wetness pooling underneath your ass and whimpered, shyly. You always got so wet around him, almost to the point of embarrassment. Peter never made fun, though; if anything, he was always delighted by it, and loved to feel it soaking through the fabric of your cute, little patterned panties. 

As he flicked at your sensitive spots, your lids drooped shut, thinking about how good he was going to feel. It pressed against your hip, hard and demanding, like it was searching for somewhere to go. You couldn’t wait anymore. 

“Gimmie that cock,” you whispered against his ear before nipping at his lobe. Higher than he wanted to, he whined and withdrew his fingers, planting them on your hip bone. 

“Mm’yeah…. gonna’ give it to you,” he nodded, breathless. “‘Cause you want it bad, right?” 

“Yeah, I do. The only one I want.”

Wasting no time, Peter freed his throbbing dick from his sweatpants. It bounced heavily in front of you, the searing hot tip pressing against your tummy. Biting your lip, you took it in your hand, giving it a few generous pumps. You then pushed his cock between your legs, lining it up with your slit and forcing the tip in for him. The action sent a shockwave through his body; he jerked up and groaned. “Fuuuuck…” 

Peter threw your legs over his shoulders, angling your body up. 

“C’mon, give it to me…” 

He clenched his teeth and bottomed out, slamming the lower half of his toned body into yours. It filled you, stretching your walls and pressing against them in the most erotic, tantalizing way. He found a rhythm quickly, and made sure to keep it, his balls slapping against your ass as he thrust into you. You threw your head back and let out a breathy moan, pressing your head into the pillow. You swallowed, wetting your throat and looked back up at him. 

Above you, Peter was extra-whiny today. Sweat collected on his forehead, beading up before ribboning down his temples. His silver hair stuck together in clumps, and when he looked from your pussy to your eyes, he smiled weakly. He was fucking you hard, harder than he usually did and you could only assume it was because he was taking out his aggression, his jealousy.

“Oooh, yeah, just like that, baby… Just like that. You’re so… you’re so jealous.” Your words were punctured by lewd moans and breaths, but you finally got out the teasing statement. Then, Peter did something he didn’t usually do. He gripped your shoulders and pulled you onto his cock over and over again, relentlessly, bucking his hips up to meet yours with every thrust. The tip of his cock hammered your cervix, hitting your deepest parts. Your jaw dropped, brows peaking together as he fucked you. 

“....oh….oh my fuckin’....” 

“....shit-shit-shit, Peter…” 

Your pussy clenched around his cock, and you couldn’t control it. She fluttered, coating his dick in warmth. Peter groaned, closer than ever. 

“You should… you should be –” You moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders. “...be jealous more often.” 

That did it. Peter lost it, spurting his white heat  inside of you, pumping it deep. A melody of groans between the both of you filled the room, as the thrusts slowed and the sweat dripped. He collapsed on top of you, kissing every inch of bare skin that he could find. 

After a few moments, he snapped up, hands on either side of your head. He looked down at you with a quirked brow, and a mischievous smile. You grinned back at him, lust-blown and giddy. You loved these afternoons, where you just fucked each other like teenagers. 

“Wanna’ play some video games? Or did you have another lame-o date planned?” 

You sniggered. “The only lame-o I’m dating is you.”

[sleepyangelkami]

could you do Carl reacting to you saying ur safe word?💕💕

SAFETY BLANKET c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.5K

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - during a time filled with vulnerability, everything becomes too much. luckily your safety blanket isn't going anywhere.

 ☆ WARNINGS - sexual themes, slight smut in beginning, use of safeword, crying, swearing, aged-up characters, use of good girl (not sexual), anxiety, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there had to be something so seriously wrong with you.

that was the only viable answer you could give yourself for the uncomfortableness settled in your lower stomach that should have been filled with pleasure. a moment spent with your boyfriend that should have meant so much. and yet you'd never been so distant.

you didn't know what was wrong, truthfully.

one thing you'd known well was where carl stood. at least, you hoped his opinion hadn't changed since before. he always said that if there was something wrong, he'd stop. he didn't need a reason or answer, utter one simple word and it was over for the both of you. he'd maneuver you back to the bed and assure you that he wasn't angry, he'd never be angry. not with you, at least.

so why did you find yourself not wishing to utter such a simple word?

on the very tip of your tongue, reaching out, practically begging to be yelled. what was wrong? you didn't know. you didn't know. and frustration was building up in your throat, almost tears building in your eyes.

skin on fire, eyes burning. how could you feel so horrible and yet not muster the single word you needed to stop it all at once.

perhaps it was the worry that he wouldn't think of you as the 'good girl' he always did, always wishing to please him. and carl? well, he'd taken to your stiff posture at first but once you laid back, seemingly relaxed for him he took no notice of it.

how could he? none of this was his fault.

whether or not you didn't feel good, it had nothing to do with your boyfriend who lay atop of you, pressing his weight onto you. it was suffocating, but that didn't mean it was his fault. yet as the word reached your tongue, you worried if that was what he'd think.

everything was too much, you simply couldn't handle it anymore.

so instead of a long string of moans falling from your mouth, the so simple, so detrimental, word "strawberry." fell instead.

it was almost devastating how quickly he froze, how quickly your eyes began to burn insufferably.

you thought of a thousand words that could have left his lips. "shit." was the first he'd thought of. "i'm gonna... fuck― i'm gonna pull out of you now, okay?"

despite your teary eyes, you'd managed to nod your head almost frantically. the minute the word fell from your lips it was as if you wished for nothing more than the entirety of the moment to be over. you wanted to cry, swallow yourself whole beneath your own pretty pink bed sheets. instead, you lay beneath him with burning eyes in his own sweaty blue bed sheets.

the minute he backed away from you, giving you room, the tears started all over again. you hoisted yourself up so quickly, fishing around for your clothes while you sniffled, trying to suck up the cries that didn't wish to leave you.

he watched as you grasped his t-shirt, not your own, trying to flip it the back way around. he watched wondering if he could step in.

he was the very one who put the safeword in it's use, he gave it to you so that if there was ever a time you'd need it, you could use it. yet it'd never happened before, he was a little worried on making the wrong mistake for the second time that night, pushing you over your limits again.

he probably should have asked could he touch you, were you comfortable with his body so close to yours. but as you struggled to flip the t-shirt to the way it should be, he couldn't help but reach his soft fingertips out.

they touched yours quickly, causing startled, tear-filled eyes to snap up. "hey, hey, 's okay, baby." taking the t-shirt from your hands, gently setting it down on the bed. "'s okay, take your time."

a sudden realisation that you didn't have to cover yourself up so quickly, shun yourself away from him.

so instead of turning your face, refusing to look at the boy, you practically threw yourself into his arms.

without uttering a word, the boy took you. it was easy to hold you at a time like this, shaking while muffling your cries into the shirt on his shoulder. it was easy to provide comfort because it was all he wanted to do. it wasn't easy to watch you like this, hear your muffled cries.

guilt wracked at his bones. "you wanna tell me what happened?" knowing it was something he'd done. he'd made the effort to talk in a low voice, making sure he wouldn't startle you any more than he had already. "huh?" his nose nudged at your cheek, making your face finally leave sanctuary.

gazing straight forward, you could see his face, brows knit together and strewn up, a look of guilt plain and simple against his features. could you possibly feel more awful? "'m sorry." voice cracking as though you were but a mere child.

a different look fell across his face, almost one of agony.

the mere thought of you thinking it'd been your fault.

"hey, hey." fingers moving to grasp at your face, holding you so that you were looking at him. "don't apologise to me, pretty girl, this isn't your fault. 'm so proud of you."

brows knitting together, evident confusion washing over you as you tilted your head up to the boy. "you are?" surprise clean in your voice.

"'course i am, sweet girl." he settled you so that you could rest against his lap as comfortably as you could, despite the fact you were both still nude. "did what i told you to do, it felt wrong so you told me. would have been wrong if you didn't, yeah? 'was such a good girl."

with a sniffle, your eyes cast down to your hands, playing with your fingers as you tried to settle the anxiety in your chest. carl did that better than playing with your fingers ever did. "you're not mad?" voice low.

"no." his nose nudged against your cheek again, he sounded so sure of himself. "no, never mad."

voice cracking once more, ever so softly. "promise?"

his lips curled gently. "i promise." his fingers rubbed against your sides, soothing the slightly bruised skin from his fingers digging into them only moments before. "you need anything, sweetheart? some water? a bath?"

a mere shake of your head was enough. your cheek gently placed itself against his chest, listening to the patter of his heartbeat. it was the kind of thing you never wanted to stop listening to, as soothing as it could get. "jus' wanna be with you."

"'s what we'll do then, 'kay?" the boy wrapped you in a clean shirt, not the one you'd been fumbling with before. this one was white and smelled of linen, he then placed a clean pair of his boxers on you, dressing himself in almost the very same thing before tucking you into bed.

carl didn't need sex. sex was a plus when it came to you. but truthfully, he'd go his entire lifetime without it if it meant he could hold you like this every single night. your head against the crook of his neck, breathing through your mouth and not your clogged nose. your eyes red but softly fluttering as his fingers gathered strands of hair, gently playing with them.

the soft sound of your gentle laughter as the tv in front of you both played, some old dvd he'd found on a run that he just knew you'd like.

he couldn't help but stare, a breathtaking view so close to him. he must have been something as good as an angel in his past life to deserve this, he was sure of it. "'m so proud of you." he kept repeating the phrase, hoping one day you'd understand just how proud he was.

and as the light dimmed, tv gently playing at a low volume, you'd almost fallen asleep. almost without saying the most important words. "carl?" glancing his head down to you. "i love you."

smiling ever so softly. "i love you." pressing the gentlest kisses to your head. "now get some sleep."

you slept good that night, knowing you'd been so stupid to think carl would ever get angry with you, especially over something as simple as that. on the contrary, he'd been happy.

you didn't need a safe word, a simple "no." would have done it for you both. carl didn't care, as long as you had your safety blanket at the end of the night, wrapping around him as though he were the trunk of a tree.

he couldn't complain, he was holding practical gold in his hands.

if he really was, you could call him a hoarder. he wouldn't trade you out for anything else in the world.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[monstersflashlight]

I don't have much of a cohesive request, just some male!vampire x male!human. But, instead of it being rough sex or anything akin to it, the vampire treats his boyfriend incredibly delicately. He recognizes that his boyfriend isn't /technically/ fragile, but he'll be damned if he doesn't treat this human like to beautiful creature he is. And if he's indulging is the human's praise kink a bit, whose to stop him?

Hi! Thanks for the request, hope you like this. And sorry for the delay. <3

“Use your words, pretty boy.”

Vampire x male!reader || praise kink, face-fucking, tooth-rooting fluff

"Hey there handsome," you said, trying to be seductive, probably failing. Your vampire boyfriend looked up from his papers, face breaking into a big grin as soon as he saw you. He even gaped a little. He was so infuriated with you it made him look silly.

He always treated you so good, he made you feel so precious and amazing, and you wanted to reward him. To do something for him. He spent the whole day at the office and called to inform you he was going to be working late again. You hated when he worked late. You wanted him at home with you, caressing your skin and making you feel pretty. You wanted to be his sole focus of attention, but you knew that wouldn’t be possible. But he always made sure to make you feel precious, to treat you like a king, so you’d never doubt his affection for you. He wasn’t with you just for the blood, or the sex… He loved you. And you loved him.

You were shaking on your feet, nervous about his reaction. Your boyfriend hadn't said a single word and you were already hard and throbbing. The whole trip to his office you were building the anticipation.

"Hey there, pretty boy, what are you doing here?" Your boyfriend’s voice was so sweet and surprised that you almost blew the whole seduce the boss shit in order to go kiss him senseless.

"I felt so lonely at home…” You tried to play it coy, but your boyfriend knew you too well. He smirked and your legs turned to jelly. You could see his pupils dilating and his fangs descending, the big grin he sent your way made your insides twitch and your cock stand to attention. Damn. “I wanted to do something nice for you." He arched an eyebrow and gestured for you to get closer.

"Come here, let me kiss your beautiful face." His voice was pure lust, making your insides burn with anticipation.

You walked to him slowly, trying to keep your long jacket pressed against your body. You wanted to surprise him when the big revelation happened. You weren’t wearing anything underneath, and you expected him to go a little wild at that. You loved when he treated you like you were his most precious possession, but you also liked when he fucked you raw. And you wanted the wild vampire tonight, you wanted him to treat you like a king, but also to be his pretty boy as he used you.

You were ready to beg and your boyfriend hadn't touched you yet. He pushed the chair back, leaving a space between him and the desk, a clear invitation for you to get between his open legs. Your throat felt very dry. When he licked over his fangs and extended his arm to grab you and make you move faster, you felt a drop of precum leaking out of you. His nostrils flared and his grin got bigger. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.

He manhandled you in front of him, completely silent. The anticipation burning in your veins and making you eager to be touched. He wasted no time and before you could blink, he had your ass against the desk and his arms caging you there. You squealed and giggled. He mumbled praises and compliments as he kissed your neck slowly. All the nerves and the anticipation burned down and you melted under him, legs turning into jelly. It was good luck that he was grabbing you by the hips when your knees gave out.

“You are so nice, you smell like the best dessert I’ve ever tasted. And I love dessert. I love you. You are so precious to me, you are such a gift to have in my long life.” He kept whispering sweet words against your ear as you shivered.

You grabbed his face forcefully and kissed him hard, swallowing his words and melting under him. You two kissed for a while. Making out on top of what you guessed were very important papers. Every second of it was amazing, which didn't help with your hard on. You were so hard it was painful. Your boyfriend got even closer, thrusting his own hardness against yours, making you feel all of him.

You pushed him away after a little bit, you needed to breathe and he didn’t. It came in handy when he spent hours making you sit on his face and rimming you until you came untouched, but it wasn’t that great when he was lost in pleasure and forgot you had to breathe every once in a while. He kissed the tip of your nose, lovingly, his eyes were so tender when he looked at you. He had to stop being adorable, or you’d melt.

"I need you." The moment your boyfriend registered your words, his pupils got incredibly dark and his hands grabbed your hips harder. He was going to leave bruises. And then he’d feel bad about it, and would spend hours kissing your body and making a mess out of you. YES. You liked that plan.

Your boyfriend’s face softened for a second as he asked: “Is this why you came? You want me to fuck you, pretty boy?” You could only nod. “Words.” He insisted.

You swallowed hard and whispered: “Yes, please.”

“Good boy.” Your face felt really hot. “Okay then. Get naked.” You almost fell trying to get the fucking coat off.

He removed his suit jacket and sat back down on his chair, pushing his shirt shelves up in the sexiest movement you’d ever seen. He opened his legs and threw you a hungry look. He was palming his hard dick through his pants, observing you intensely, making you hot and bothered. You undid the buttons of the coat one by one, knowing that your boyfriend enjoyed a good show. As more and more skin got revealed, you could pinpoint the exact second your boyfriend realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

“Are you really only wearing that?” You paused mid button, nodding softly, nervous for some reason. He groaned, low and deep, making you shiver. “Damn. That’s so hot. You are so good to me, so perfect.” He caressed your sides, tickling you and making you giggle, breaking the tension.

“I wanted to surprise you.” You were feeling a bit shy, which was absurd. You played like this for years, but you still blushed when your vampire boyfriend called you hot.

“You did, pretty boy. I’m so happy to have you here. To have you in my life.” You beamed at the praise, you liked making him happy. You wanted to be the best for him. You let the coat fall down, presenting yourself before him completely. He caressed your body lovingly, treating you like the precious possession he thought you were. He sat back down. “Come here.” He wanted you to sit on his lap, but you had other plans in mind.

“I want…” You started but doubted yourself.

“What do you want, pretty boy? Use your words.” He coached.

“I want to suck you.” You let out, falling to your knees in front of him.

“Good boy.” He rewarded you. You just wanted to make your boyfriend come, you needed it desperately. “Such a good boy for me.” Your dick was so hard that your head felt dizzy. He caressed your cheek like you were the most precious thing, and your heart did a flip-flop inside your chest. He always made you feel so amazing, you didn’t know how to thank him back. You reached down to grab his dick, he let you, his hands still touching your face softly. So soft. So lovingly. Fuck, you didn’t want to cry. “You’ve been such a good boy coming here for me, all ready to give me your body as a gift.”

“Yes, I’ve been good.” You were looking up at him through your lashes, trying to convey the same amount of love he showed you.

“Okay pretty boy, you can suck me.” You opened your mouth and closed your eyes, lowering your head and sucking on the tip of his cock, making him shudder. You whined.

You felt your boyfriend’s hands in your hair, pulling softly. He went slow, feeding you more and more of his cock in short thrusts. He started slowly, not getting all his dick inside, just a few inches in and out, slowly, torturing you with anticipation. You whined, trying to swallow him whole, but being stopped by the hand on your hair.

“So eager to please, so eager to be a good boy.” He sounded amused. You nodded against the tip still in your mouth, tongue twirling around it, paying special attention to that sensitive point that made him go crazy. Trying to collect all his precum with your tongue, wanting to taste him more than anything.

That did the trick, apparently. He moaned over you, and things leveled up. The hand on your hair tightened and he started to raise the speed, fucking your mouth. Takings special care of not pushing you too hard, not to make you choke. He was always so careful with you.

He started to chant profanities above you, moaning and praising you and your mouth, and you started to lose yourself on the feel of his dick on your throat, his hand on your hair, his voice in your ears… It was perfect.

“Darling… Darling, I’m going to cum.” He warned, caressing the side of your face. You pushed down your face, taking all of him at once and making him groan, cursing you for being too rough for your own good. You groaned around him, pushing him over the edge and tasting his sweet release on your mouth.

You let his dick go and rested your head against your boyfriend’s thigh. Aftershocks were still running through his body, making him shiver and moan softly. His hands were incredibly soft as he touched your face, called you a pretty boy and told you how much he loved you.

He manhandled you from the floor to his lap, hugging your naked body against his clothed one. “Let’s go home, pretty boy.”

“But your work…” You tried to argue.

“Work can wait. You are the most important thing, now and always.” He kissed you one last time before helping you put the coat back on.

[a-suspicious-number-of-ducks]

Hermit-a-Day May, Day 22: Iskall85. Today's style/medium is Minecraft map art! This is because I wanted to make Iskall's portrait with as much diorite as humanly possible. The entirety of the background (except for the green) and most of his face? Yep, that's all diorite. I think I'm very funny. Details, materials, and screenshots under the read more!

Materials: Krita (for the base art), Rebane2001's MapartCraft site (available here), a Minecraft superflat world, a structure block, and way, way too much time spent trying to get the orientation and placement of the art to line up with the map borders. Structure blocks are weird, y'all. This tutorial by PuffingFish HQ was very helpful for figuring out how to access the file in the first place.

This is probably the earliest I've ever been done with my art this month, and it still took longer than it should have, due to various technical difficulties. That's probably because this piece is rather simple, but I refuse to feel bad about that because it was for the bit, y'know? Also don't ask me what's going on with his left eye because I don't know either. It just felt right.

The first time I loaded the structure into Minecraft, I just burst out laughing because it looks. Ridiculous and slightly terrifying, honestly. Diorite eldritch horror and/or biblically accurate angel.

Side note, my apologies if the images' alt text isn't useful or if it makes no sense--I honestly have no idea how to describe these in a helpful way.

[peachesofteal]

This is probably a stupid detail to focus on lol but in Through Me, the part where Simon takes Orion and reader immediately snaps awake like. GOT ME LMAO

I'm not a parent but I spent a lot of time watching my nephew when he was a baby and I felt that reaction VISCERALLY. And then the way Simon soothed her and took over baby care just. UGH

Like the entire series is so goddamn adorable and I love it so much but for some reason I'm zeroed in on that part oop-

I love this detail too! She notices right away and then he calms her down. I love them.

[leonawriter]

Okay apparently I'm going to do a study on this introduction, because going back to it? Especially knowing more about Hakuba via more recent Magic Kaito chapters? Fascinating stuff.

So. Hakuba's introducing himself, and he starts out by bringing up "My father spoke of you often" and "It seems you're a very sharp detective." Both of those are positive!

Hakuba is... high society, compared to Hattori simply hanging out around high ranking people and treating them like normal. Hattori argues with Kazuha in a very down to earth way, while Hakuba knows how to drink tea and probably how to set the table with a full set of cutlery (or at least how to use them).

So, Hakuba using their fathers to introduce himself is, to him, a normal enough way to say "I've heard good things about you, we're similar, I hope we can get along well."

What's more - Shinichi realises that, pretty quickly. Even if they hadn't met previously, he'd have been able to figure out by the words being used, that Saguru's father knows Heiji's father, or that they're in the same business.

If anything, I'd say that this slight culture clash is the second step of things going wrong between Hattori and Hakuba here, right after Hakuba being present at all, since Hattori had wanted Shinichi to take his rightful place where Hakuba is currently sitting.

Strike one, strike two.

Unfortunately, it gets worse from there, and I'm gonna go into it.

But then Hakuba brings up that he's not even fully based in Japan. To which, mostly Hattori is just "wait, what?" - but although I'm sure he means it simply to be as clear as possible, that could also be read as "I would say that, but I'm actually better." As in, being smug.

Strike three.

Still with "Kudo is the high school detective of the east, that's obvious, isn't it?" and rubbing salt into the insult to Hattori's bro with "they'd have liked me to represent the east in his place" but...

Oh boy.

This... this is also where I just stared and held my head in my hands because now? Because of something Hattori's said, and what he's going to continue saying/leaning into... we need to go back in time.

All the way back in Hakuba Saguru's first appearance, the papers say "just returned from London," suggesting (as I've seen someone say before) that he'd spent at least some, if not much, of his youth in Japan.

Certainly, he doesn't seem to speak with an accent in the present day, so he can't have grown up in the UK and only sometimes lived in Japan.

In Japan, however, he is referred to as...

In Nakamori's (uncouth) words at their first meeting, "Y-you're that bastard from London!"

No mention of how he has a fully Japanese name, partially Japanese features, a Japanese father, and no accent.

His introductory splash also frames him with the Union Jack behind him, showing off his Holmes cosplay and light hair. Almost all the major characters in the series have blue eyes, but here it's rather... plainly emphasising his Western features. His non-Japanese-ness.

Now, I do have to wonder if Gosho wrote that back in 1990 and hadn't given much thought to it. I certainly don't think it was intentionally cruel.

However, by volume 40, released in 2003, he's learned a bit more about social prejudice, and shows this with the Professor's First Love story:

This shows something that happened 40 years ago in-universe, with a girl of Japanese-American descent who has light, gingko colour hair, being very aware of how different she is, and not wanting her friend to see. She calls her hair "weird" and starts to cry.

Coming back to the present - content released in 2006 - let me go back to Hakuba Saguru.

Hattori "That's obvious, isn't it? And yer not even from this country to begin with."

Oh, Hattori. Only the previous case had you seeing how words can be as sharp as knives, and can hurt people.

Saguru doesn't seem too bothered at first, however...

First off, he points out that it isn't even his fault he's "taken Kudo's place" in the first place!

They contacted his housekeeper, who he's been shown to be very close with (I'd hazard a guess to say that, having not seen his mother at all, or seen her mentioned, Baaya is closer to him than his parents are), and when she heard that her charge would only be taking someone else's place since they weren't there, she got offended on his behalf.

Saguru, who loves this woman like she's literally his nanny, could hardly say no at that point.

More to the point: how he says "But it appears I am unfit to represent the East..."

So now we have Hattori having come in wanting his best friend to be represented and not sidelined just because of circumstances out of his control, and being in a bad mood immediately because of someone else having been called in. He also possibly inflates the number of cases he worked on or solved, by including childhood adventures, leading Saguru to point out that his count is only low if you only count the ones in one country. Saguru attempts to make friends with him regardless, and that doesn't work because Hattori is still stuck on how Saguru is "taking Kudo's place" and then focuses in on how Saguru "isn't even from this country" which... starts leaning into the uncomfortable territory of "Hattori I love you to pieces but are you being racist/xenophobic right now?"

I say that in the context of how Japan has a really big problem with seeing anyone who isn't fully Japanese as Not Japanese Enough, as I went into earlier. I don't think he's aware how he's coming across, by the way; he's simply got a big case of foot-in-mouth.

So now instead of having come to this conclusion organically and naturally, Saguru is offering to take the place of "Guest Participant from Overseas" to placate Hattori.

I'd imagine he won't be wanting to tell Baaya about that, for sure.

Saguru goes on to suggest that Conan (i.e, Shinichi himself) should represent the East instead.

I reiterate: they could well have come to this conclusion over a friendly conversation, because of how they have five detectives. But instead now Saguru has ceded his position to (as far as he knows) a child. A very clever child, but a child nonetheless.

The next time we're back at the island with Hattori and the others, he's already decided he doesn't like "that smug guy."

As said before, there are plenty of things that Hattori could have picked up on that'd suggest Saguru "looked down on people" and "had a prideful way of thinking" and he certainly could appear smug in his achievements.

Hattori himself says that Saguru was "was like a copy of [Kudo]." But he has decided he doesn't like Hakuba, therefore he won't like Hakuba.

A moment of Saguru bonding with Natsuki over their natural brown hair, a shared trait - we can see him smiling after saying "But... there aren't any tv cameras yet, so you could do what you want for tonight?"

In a way I feel like I'm making too much of a big deal out of this one thing, but I'm not the one bringing attention to it - Gosho is. Gosho's the one who reminds us that kids get into trouble for their natural brown hair, and Saguru got that too.

Those who've read Magic Kaito will know that he DOES have a Japanese school uniform - but as we saw at the start of the post, when he arrived, he arrived from his school in London.

This further emphasises how he's set apart from the others.

(An aside: it's entirely possible that his "school abroad" is more likely him going to sixth form, since our Secondary schools last (or did for me) up to the age of 16, and depending on the time of year he may have transferred over to the new school year already. Or he's just finishing his last year of Secondary. We don't know.)

Honestly... I'm going to leave this at that for now, because for one thing the post got away from me a bit, and became longer than I expected, and for another thing, I've covered the majority of the first meeting and both of them getting off on the wrong foot.

In short:

Hattori arrived with an idea of slipping Shinichi into the event, and was offended and upset when someone was already in his place. He, being the loyal friend he is, wasn't willing to simply let it lie.

Instead of backing down and accepting the situation and make friends with the new detective - who Shinichi knew and was acting friendly with, and who was willing to befriend him - he let his bad mood get the better of him and made offensive remarks of his own, most of which to the others would seem entirely unwarranted.

Because of that, Hattori still has a bad opinion of Saguru, and Saguru's opinion of Hattori has gone from "my father's spoken of you [positively]" to "rude asshole."

Neither of them are innocent, but when you look at them individually and fairly, neither of them are the only one in the wrong, either.

Like... no wonder they don't get along from here on? Wow.

I did not expect there to be so much in it, but there we go.

[okiroash]

Obsessed with post-mt. silver red... the champion you hailed as a legend, a concept of what strength is, right now- is having trouble finding where he put his wallet because he didn't need to use money for three years (the cashier watches as red rummages through his bag, the sounds of various items clanking can be heard through the room...) anyway,, some fun headcanons for him that I first wanted to tell along with illustrations but,, I don't have the energy to do that rn,, -> He knows how to mimic a pokemon's cry to such accuracy,, esp those of wild strong pokemon that lives in mountain silver, this is so that- with just himself he can terrify the weaker pokemon and make them scamper away.. it's important that his team stay at top condition and not make them waste necessary energy in case something bad would happen -> Though this doesn't mean he uses his voice more, having no one to talk to (or even the need to-) for an extended period of time, makes it easier to get into a coughing fit if he were to talk too much, leading to him talking slower, softer, and always in short chopped sentences after coming down (but still have that polite way of talking, judging from the dialogue in FRLG with the pokedoll girl compared to ethan's.... who even uses "pardon me" these days? red apparently) -> He learned how to run on all four.. when there's literally just you and your animal friends in some mountain you're bound to be a weirder guy, sorry man (and he actually moves faster this way.. but red's aware that this is something he could only do in the wild) -> Red moves like a ghost, it's good when you don't want to alarm the wild pokemon around you (and now it's people to avoid getting recognized), but this makes it hard for him to announce his presence which always end up surprising people.. -> Whenever he doesn't know how to react to a joke or what it means, he will tilt his head and stare at them with the biggest autism eyes ever.... -> Post-mt silver red gets put into a lot of socially awkward situations, it can't be helped 💔 -> Because he spent so long in a dangerous environment, red is very vigilant and cautious, though.. sometimes overly that it's not healthy, it took a while for him to start relaxing a bit more after going back to "normalcy" -> Red tried to keep track of time by writing in his diary.. one day he flipped the paper and found that he had run out of them.. he started writing on the cave's wall instead -> talking about diary, it's one of his few emotional outputs, on really bad days it's full of scribbles, messy writing, repeating words and rarely, tear stains -> being far from a talkative person, he can't just vent out his emotions through talking.. and because he has such an unexpressive face, people often think there's nothing wrong with him, simply a hero you can always depend on. red developed a slight anger issue from not being able to properly express his emotions, sometimes he would bent and smash things to let off some steam (dw.. nothing valuable, probably trashes or rocks..)

-> He finds a lot of comfort in his pokemon, rubbing circles on pikachu's fur, sleeping on top of snorlax, feeling charizard's warmth... (yeah you get what I mean,,) He also likes getting carried by them, it's a feeling of comfort that something is guiding him, just like the old days with his mom

[your-enby-antihero]

An Oracle and Her Shadow

Summary: A companion piece to Aelwyn Abernant Might Go Blue Dragon(born) Hunting from Oisin's point of view as he grapples with liking a girl but having maybe convituted feelings about her because of rage and obsession.

Also available on Ao3

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Sometimes you like the pretty elven girl from your History of Glyph class in freshman year. You like that her hair is the colour of gold, you like that when you see her smile (which is rare) she is like the golden light of day, she’s so smart and so intelligent and the best wizard probably ever and she’s so cool, her friends are so cool. 

Sometimes that like turns into a crush that Ivy teases you about for practically all the way through freshman and sophomore year. Little jabs that she sends your way, things like ‘you ever think an oracle would divine anyone as lame as you’. Ivy was- is your best friend and she could be relentless.

Sometimes you get a rage crystal buried into your chest by teachers that were one thousand percent manipulating you and that crush turns into an obsession. Like a dragon that covets treasures for its hoard, you want to be near her, to be the only one around her, to keep that golden light all to yourself. When she smiled at you and said you were great at that party at the beginning of the year and somehow that obsession doubled because maybe she liked you back and you could make her so happy, so so happy. Happier than any of her friends or her sister or her family, happier than anyone.

Sometimes you get maybe a little too into when she’s competent, like when you see her sitting at a desk aceing the Last Standard Exam while also turning missed attacks into hits and summoning gigantic magic hands to punch purple worms or when you see her shoot one of your ancestors out of the sky and then proceed to punch one dead. Yeah maybe you shouldn’t have wanted to lick your lips when you saw the blood spray across her face or bite the inside of your cheek to calm the roaring obsession in the lunch room so all you can get out is a sorry. Sorry that you looked at her and thought about her joining you in the final battle filled with rage, oh how beautiful she’d be bursting with rage. Yeah, maybe that’s too far. Reel it back in Hakinvar, you might be obsessed with the girl but you don’t want to be a creep about it. Come on, pull yourself together. 

You feel vitriolic hate for her party because, in the final battle, you have spent so much time planning for, the girl that consumes every waking thought that you’ve had for the past like year, isn’t the one to kill you. Maybe you wanted her beautiful blue eyes to stare at you with hatred. To feel her battle weary hands plunge that sword into the cold gaping wound in your chest. To look at you at all you, to feel the warmth of her gaze on you and only you, no matter if it’s love or adoration or hate or spite or just anything that isn’t ‘I have never taken a class with you’ or ‘yeah Thursday mornings were rough for me’. Just anything that says I’ve seen you before, I know you. 

Well, you were revived and not immediately expelled for Aguefort in some divine miracle done by the new student body president Kristen Applebess. You feel really fucking embaressed at most of the thoughts that still linger in your head about her. Because despite you being completely normal instead of being in a heightened rage-fuelled, base emotion-driven place at the time, even though you're back to normal you maybe still want her to maybe step on you with her incredibly scuffed boots. Is it so wrong that your face goes purple when she says that you are a piece of shit? Oisin didn’t think so. 

So when he was mandated to take remedial lessons by Arthur Aguefort to pass Junior year, after his group succeeded the Last Stand, he didn’t make a fuss, not like Kipperlilly anyway. Was it even better than Kristen Applebees suggested that The Bad Kids tutor The Rat Grinders and out of all The Bad Kids who could have and did refuse (of course Riz had been hesitant to partner up with a girl who wanted his life was reasonable, even Oisin could see that) the radiant Elven Oracle had said to meet at her house on Wednesdays in the afternoon, side quests permitting, to say he was over the moon was an understatement.

He had made sure to bring his best spell ink and the most expensive paper he had to the first tutoring session. As he walked up to the creepy haunted mansion that his oracle resided in he straightened his shoulders and knocked on the door. 

The sounds of crashing and shouts, the sound of teasing and jeering but with no undertone of venom (not like how Ivy and Kipperlilly teased and mocked each other). Adaine opened the door, radiant as ever.

“Glad you could make it, follow me,” she offered, leading him up the tall stairs to a wizard's tower, with bunk beds.

As he took stock of the room, the many papers and books scattered about, drawings and doodles and a massive pile of scrolls. The last thing he noticed on the ground, painted in dark ink, were runes. A massive spell circle with unknown rune work that set Oisin’s tail on guard. Adaine was wonderfully gracious with her knowledge and her time, teaching him about ranges of spells and the optimal ways to be out of counterspell range to best support the party. He listened with wrapped fascination, so aware of how she moved her hands like she was doing somatic components of a spell as she explained. Eventually, he got her talking about the creation of her own spells, how she had modified the incantation for conjure minor elementals to give the Dry Guys more vibrancy. He was surprised that the elementals that she conjured were the ones with the podcast. The window they had set for this session was rapidly reaching its end but as he observed Adaine he saw that she was wrapped up in correcting some of the glyphs on his spell work, clearly not paying attention to time. ‘It's perfect’ he thought to himself as he soaked in her presence as much as he could. When she finally realized they had gone long she had sheepishly apologized and sent him on his way.

“I hope this was helpful,” she supplied as she led him to the door, “Adventuring is hard but if you learn to trust your party I think you’ll get through the Last Stand just fine. See you next week.”

Oisin smiled back, his heart was ablaze, he’d see her next week for sure and maybe if he played his questions at the right times and let her get lost in glyphs and scrolls he could be by her side for just a bit longer. 

— — — — — — — — — — — —

Oisin was annoyed, very annoyed. He had been making so much progress, not only in his tutoring but also in getting closer to Adaine. At first, she seemed a bit on edge, tip-toeing around him with her words. Every detail about The Bad Kids was omitted from the conversation and nothing drifted from the spellwork in front of them. He had managed to get the session to run about 30 minutes longer, as Adaine became more comfortable she would veer off on tangents allowing for Oisin to stay by her for just a while longer. In fact, she had actually opened up to him a bit, forgiven him for his actions.

“I’m so so sorry Adaine, that rage crystal really just heightens everything. The rage was just so all-consuming. I can’t make up for trying to kill your friends or end the world but I can apologize for how I treated you.”

She had placed a reassuring hand on his, “I get it Oisin, you guys were manipulated. You were children being coerced by grown adults. I forgive you.”

But here was the problem, well the problem was actually named Aelwyn Abernant. She had taken to interrupting his time with his oracle. The annoying elven woman had started crashing their tutoring sessions. Even if she wasn’t there Adaine would suddenly get a text and turn to Oisin saying that she had to step out for a moment. He also was unable to drag out his sessions because Aelwyn had a killer sense of time.

“Oh Adaine, I believe that all the time you set for tutoring today.”

“We wouldn’t want to keep him late now would we.”

“I’m sure what you’re learning is riveting but I ask that you wrap it up, some of us have jobs.”

That lingering feeling in his chest screamed, maybe a side effect of the rage crystal, he wanted to sink a claw into Aelwyn’s throat to keep her from interrupting, to cast a permanent silence spell on her so that he would never have to hear her voice again. He wasn’t afraid of her, not in the slightest.

— — — — — — — — — — — —

 Oisin was so afraid of Aelwyn Abernant. Maybe he would ask Adaine if she could meet at a different location because the woman may have wanted him dead. ‘Not a good look Oisin not when you want to date her sister’ he thought to himself as he walked home from potentially the most threatening interaction he has ever had, ‘Gods she was literally arrested and sent to federal prison in her home country. She was extradited and she will use that nemesis ward on me even if I’m not even doing anything at all.’ He had seen the power flow through her eyes and travel to the ward, abjuration wizards were freaky. Maybe he should call Adaine and ask if they could meet at his house not just because seeing her in his hoard sated a deep part of his brain that he so desperately wanted to suppress but also so he could get out of the gaze of a very protective older sister.

[whentherewerebicycles]

How is motherhood (so far)? It seems like such a crazy shift from one life to another!

it is SO good so far!!! here are some scattered feelings & thoughts:

i have been warned that a big hormone crash is coming and i am sure that will be tough to weather! but right now i am feeling so good - still just riding that endorphin high. i feel physically good too, like tired and a little sore, but really way better than i expected to feel three days after giving birth.

my transition into parenthood has been majorly eased by the fact that my mom is here and is doing virtually all of the newborn care tasks for me right now - nighttime feedings (i take over around 5am but my hands are so bad in the night), diaper changes, tracking how much he's eating, making food, etc. she is even helping me breastfeed because it involves a level of manual dexterity i am not currently capable of most of the time. i am so so so so so so grateful to have her here. part of me feels kind of guilty, like i'm probably supposed to be feeling way more stressed out and overwhelmed trying to manage the cognitive and physical demands of new parenthood, but i am trying to quiet that voice in my brain by reminding myself that there are going to be PLENTY of times in the future where i'll get to feel overwhelmed and exhausted and in over my head as a single parent. she is so happy and so excited to do this for me, and i am trying to just let myself rest and enjoy it.

it is so special to do this with my mom. i was saying to her yesterday, like, i can totally see how taking care of a new baby with a partner would be a richly meaningful experience, and i can see that there are things i am missing out on on that front. but also if i were doing this with a partner i wouldn't get to be doing this with my mom, and i would be missing out on an experience that i am finding just as richly meaningful and rewarding. i feel so close to her and i love her so much and i know that for the rest of my life i am going to remember how special it was to get to watch her love owen so much and take such good care of him (and me) in his first days of life. i feel so lucky. i thought i would feel SO overwhelmed but instead i just feel really loved and taken care of, and i feel really close to my mom, and i feel like we are the happiest little family unit right now. i love it so much. also she calls him "my little guy" and “my best friend” and i almost cry every time. hormones but also love, you know.

owen is perfect. i feel like i felt intensely close to him right after the birth, and then i had kind of a hard first day after in the hospital where there were just TOO MANY PEOPLE coming in at all hours and doing exams on me or on him, and there was no time to rest and bond with him, and i started feeling very overwhelmed and kinda like do i even KNOW this baby? this baby is a STRANGER to me and if i hadn't had a baby i would be at HOME right now in my own SPACE without anyone coming in every 15 min day and night to bother me. that first long hospital day was really rough and then i was relieved to finally get home that night but also super cranky and tired, and i couldn't figure out how to get my pump to work, and he got very fussy in the night and i was like AAAAAAA. but then we spent all of yesterday doing so much skin-to-skin cuddling and napping in bed which is just the nicest thing imaginable, and now i am like this is my BABY he is PERFECT look at him!!!! he is so snuggly and good.

i am glad that my brother had a newborn a couple months before i did because i think it helped prepare me for how gently boring the newborn stage can be lol. not in a bad way! it's so sweet and i think will involve lots of wonderful sleepy snuggling!! but they are awake so infrequently and do not have personalities yet, and you are kind of like hm. should more be happening, or...? but no. nothing more should be happening lol they will just be sweet sleepy lumps for a good long time. my nephew is nine? ten? weeks old now and is definitely starting to become way more alert/engaged, so i know a personality is coming haha and i will just enjoy my little sweet lump right now because he won't be like this ever again!! also it's nice to be able to just let him sleep next to me while i do other stuff. i think it will ease the transition a bit... like yes now we are on this endless cycle of pumping, attempting to breastfeed, bottlefeeding him, changing him, watching him sleep, pumping again, etc but i can read or watch stuff in between because he requires so little attention while sleeping (except for LOTS OF KISSES he requires LOTS OF LITTLE KISSES because he is so SWEET!!!!). also idk i am sure i will get bored of being off work but right now it has been so restful to delete outlook & teams from my phone and just be like who cares about weird office politics i have way more important things to do like kiss a sleeping baby on the forehead a hundred times and tell him he is the best and handsomest boy in the whole world. life is very good lol.

[gnpwdrnwhiskey]

greatest of all time

Pairing- Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava (yes, her again, I'm so sorry!)

Word Count- 1,182

Warnings- none really that I'm aware of? some swearing, a couple of beers get drunk but basically this is just ridiculous banter because that's what these two do....

Author's Note- yes, I know I already have two other unfinished works with these two that I should be working on but I saw this post and joked with @wildemaven & @trulybetty that this was Dieter & Ava's next adventure and then that same day I saw the post for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May drabble challenge and here we are....3rd universe but first time meeting, totally still counts as a meet cute right? lol!

"This can't possibly be right," Dieter mutters to himself as he turns into the campground.

He'd asked his assistant to book him a few days somewhere off the grid. Just peace and quiet and time to clear his head before he started a new project.

But this little semicircle of Airstreams baking in the desert sun can't possibly be the right place. The GPS fucked up or something.

He'll just stop and ask for directions and be on his way. Five minute detour. Max.

Ava glances out the open door of her office when she hears a car door slam before looking over at the massive merle coated Great Dane laying on his custom doggie bed on the floor next to her desk.

"Oh my God, he's here already? He's early! Do I look okay?" She asks the dog, frantically patting at her hair and straightening her clothes. She receives a couple tail wags and a cocked head in response. "Phfft, fat lot of help you are."

"Excuse me?" Dieter asks from the doorway.

"Oh, sorry, not you. I was talking to Goat."

"You have a goat?"

"No, why would I have a goat? Goats are herd animals, a single goat out here in the desert all by itself would be lonely. And that would make me sad. I have a dog. Named Goat."

The dog in question gives a woof at his name and stands to his full height, head somewhere around Dieter's belly button, and gives him a cursory sniff before padding past him to sprawl outside in the sunshine.

"Why Goat? Wouldn't Horse have been more appropriate?"

"Haha," Ava laughs dryly. "Creative. Never heard that one before. My brother named him Peyton...ya know, Manning? So Goat. Greatest of all time."

"Sure," Dieter nods like all of this makes perfect sense, thinking to himself that this woman has probably spent way too much time frying her brain in the desert heat. "Baseball, right?"

"Football," Ava says slowly, thinking what a shame it is that he's cute but apparently oh so dumb. "Anyways. Hi, welcome to Gateway Campground! Are you here for the aliens?"

"No, I'm just here for directions....the GPS must've fucked up....aliens?"

"Do you.....do you not believe in aliens?"

"No?"

"Are you stupid? Of course there have to be aliens! C'mon, there are whole galaxies out there we hardly know anything about!"

"Okay, then sure? I believe in aliens."

"Aww, then you can't stay here. Sorry. Strict no communing with aliens rule."

"But you just said--"

"I know, it's quite a conundrum isn't it? But I kinda have an experiment 626 situation going on here that I'm trying to keep on the low low."

"I have no idea what that means and no intentions of communing with anyone. Alien or human."

"Oh...."

"Probably requires some kind of radiation, like EMF or some shit," Dieter continues. "Messes with my fucking brain waves. I don’t even wear wireless earbuds. Besides, I'm not staying here. Like I said before, I just need directions."

"Oh, no, you're in the right place, Mr Bravo? Dieter? I'm not sure what to call you...you are Dieter Bravo aren't you?"

"Dieter's fine, but what do you mean I'm in the right place?"

"Your assistant booked the whole place for you? For a week?"

"This is Joshua Tree?"

"Well, no, but the park is only like 30 minutes away," Ava looks him over skeptically, gaze lingering on his well worn Crocs. "If you're into like, hiking or whatever."

"Do I look like I'm into hiking?" Dieter snaps. "Look lady, I'm sure your facilities are perfectly adequate and you can keep whatever you've already been paid, but I'm not staying in the ass end of nowhere in some shitty camper. So if you could just tell me how to get to Joshua Tree..."

"But--"

"Nope, no, whatever it is, more alien shit or whatever, I don't want to hear it. Ya know what, nevermind, I'll figure it out myself."

"I was just gonna say Joshua Tree will be booked full up this time of year," Ava yells at his retreating back as he stomps back to his vehicle.

"Well. That did not go well," she sighs, leaning against the door jamb and watching Dieter's rented SUV disappear as he heads back towards the main road. "It was the alien stuff, right? Probably went a little overboard on that, huh? But we had to be sure right, Goatie?"

Goat chuffs softly and gives Ava's hand a sympathetic lick.

"He'll be back, right? I think he'll be back," she nods to herself and then sighs again, rubbing one of Goat's silky ears between her fingers. "I hope so anyway. It'll be a long ass week out here by ourselves if he doesn't come back."

Three hours later he is in fact back, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs and Ava bites her tongue to keep from telling him she could've told him so.

"One night," he tells Ava as she leads him to the Airstream closest to the office. "And then I'm out of here. Too fuckin aggravated to drive home now."

"Of course. I completely understand," Ava tells him in her frostiest professional voice as she unlocks the door and hands over the key. "Your assistant provided a list of some of your favorite toiletries and snacks and stuff, so you should find everything you need inside."

"But If you were to find anything lacking, I'm right over there," she gestures towards the lone Airstream parked a little farther away from the others. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Bravo."

Dieter finds her stretched out on a lounger by the pool as night falls, Goat stretched out on his own lounger next to her.

"Can I sit?"

"Of course, you're the guest here. Goat and I can leave if you'd prefer."

"No, I'd like you to stay, please? And I think I owe you an apology. This place....well, it's not what I expected."

"I get that a lot," Ava grins, digging in the cooler next to her chair and offering Dieter a beer.

"It's really, really fucking nice. I mean that. Better than some resorts I've stayed at."

"I know," Ava nods. "My brother and I worked hard to get it just right."

"You did a fantastic job," Dieter tells her, twisting the top off his beer and taking a long swig. "I uh, I also googled what you said earlier-- an experiment 626 situation. Lilo and Stitch, right? So I guess like, you were trying to tell me Goat is, ah, special?"

Goat gives one short sharp bark and Ava laughs. "Yeah, he is indeed very special. You could even say he's one of a kind."

"I take it back," Dieter tells her, relaxing back in his lounger, face tilted up to the stars. More stars than he thinks he's ever seen before in his life, more possibilities than he's ever imagined. "I think I'll stay a few days."

Ava smiles, mostly to herself, and Goat's tail thumps happily against the fabric of his lounger.

"Stay as long as you want."

[neet-elite]

↳ EVENT 22. M!Robin (Anal)

Pairing: M!Robin/ F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 2,917 Warnings: anal, virgin!reader, first time anal sex, premature ejaculation, creampie, cum eating, ass eating Prompt(s): 19 — anal Event Masterlist: CLICK HERE!!

A/N: SORRY look. u give me an inch to be fluffy and i'll take a mile. i just love writing about love, especially when it comes to loser men who are too in love to do anything about it. like completely fucking desperate men who can't help themselves. this is the kind of robin we all need <3 i hope u enjoy this!

Despite his attempts at remaining calm, cool, and collected in the presence of someone as perfect as you, especially when you look up at him so endearingly with those big doe eyes, his fingers are still trembling against your thighs like he doesn't know what to do with himself or you. An unmistakable need to playfully pinch and prod present in how they twitch against you, something about getting rid of all that anxious tension built up in his body, right? Rather than anything more mean like an attempt you turn you as nervous as he is, feeling so suddenly out of place between your trembling legs as if he was experiencing his first time with you all over again. Surely you're just as anxious as he is, right? Even after completing all of the necessary steps of prep, making sure that you're as uncomfortable as possible in your submissive position under him; he battles with himself. Do you understand just how difficult his position is above you, too?

Peering down at you with rapid blinks, lust filled gaze a little blurry because he's not so sure as to what he wants to focus on more. Immediately, your face is eye catching. That cute scrunched up expression you wear just so well that it has his cock leaking all over your cunt right now, dribbling insistently against your slit when you pout prettily up at him. He wants to ask you what's wrong, but he can't seem to find his voice as he simply hovers above you, merely squeezing at your inner thighs in self indulgent perversion— you can't rightly blame him though, can you? Even just the thought of your pretty tits alone is enough to leave him rock solid in his pants, idly thinking back to the many, many, nights spent all alone on his bed just thinking of you and how erotic your pretty body is, mind filled to the brim of too many dirty thoughts focused solely on you. So to have them completely exposed to him right now, heavily rising and falling under his watchful gaze with soft little pants for air is fucking amazing, honestly. Even if he's saw them, played with them, and sucked on your tits plenty times before, he still finds his chest filled with palpitations as he stares down at them again; got him acting like a fucking virgin and you're not even doing anything! Simply laying there with a knowing glint in your eye, a slight smirk on your lips.

And of course, your tummy. So soft and cute, how it begs for his hands to pinch and tickle if not for the way he clings to your thighs for dear life. He nonetheless feels an urge building within him to bend down and kiss at it, to trail his lips all over your tummy in an effort to map out every inch of your skin, but he refrains. Or, rather, he's too chicken to actually move right now, considering the special circumstances tonight. But just know, that deep in his heart and even deeper in his cock, see how it twitches against you right now? he wants to love all over you. Wants so badly to leave a wet trail of his affection all over your tummy, an act of worship, or perhaps ownership is better suited.

After all, not just anyone would be allowed to do what he's been given grace to tonight, right? Right?

Shifting his gaze further down, of course, he meets your cute cunt. How tiny and tight she is, puffy clit probably throbbing with need as his drooling tip brushes against it, huh? He doesn't mean to tease you so much, a sheepish laugh escaping him once he notices just how gently he's rocking his hips against you— feels so fucking good though, right? Slipping between your folds like he's done a hundred times before, smearing precum all the way from your clit down to your hole, and back up again. The little sighs his tip knocks out of you without even needing to be buried inside goes straight to his ego; and his cock. Made worse by the fact that he doesn't think you even know what that eye roll you give him does to him. A pit in his stomach twisting tighter, coaxing his hips to rut against your front just a little faster— at least until he lets out a shaky sigh and decides it's time to take the final leap. Moving his eyes down, down, just a little bit further as he draws his hips back... It's a little funny, he thinks, how he feels like a virgin all over again; but it makes sense when his eyes land square on your pretty looking asshole. Undisturbed and pure, so mesmerizing to him in his lewd state right now, breaking out into a sweat the second he stares for a little too long. Gulping at the prospect of ruining its innocent nature with his profusely dribbling tip.

Honestly, he's more than just a little riled up at this point. Horned up from the moment you had even suggested the idea of anal— something he had originally thought would have been completely off the table, but is nonetheless overjoyed to have you be receptive to the idea; let alone suggest it to him one night. Excitedly gathering all the supplies one might need, taking such good care of you tonight, didn't he? Touching you so gently, rutting against you so softly, opening up your unexplored hole for the first time ever with a heart full of love and a heavy cock. Timid fingers doing their best to promise care and attention, finger fucking your tight little asshole open wide enough to accept three of them, wincing with you not out of pain, but because you feel so hot inside. So soft and squishy, cock trembling out of sheer excitement to feel those same warm, spongy walls enveloping him.

So yes, his position above you is a difficult one. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly in an effort to keep his barely there composure intact, but the pretty little whine you let out at his inaction is enough to coax him into movement. Bucking his hips against your cunt once or twice faster, unbridled need to resolve the tension in your core coaxing him a little out of his shell for your own benefit.

He's so in love with you, can you tell? From the way he practically melts above you, humming down at you with sincere affection, a tender smile inherent on his face whenever he dotes down on you.

"Are you ready?" He asks you gently, slowly, each syllable of every word dripping with all of the awe and affection he regards you with; even in such a simple question. Heart hurting at the adoring expression you adopt, all pretty smiles and fluttering lashes— you're the prettiest girl in the world to him, always have and always will be. But especially when you're under him like this. Hair spread out all across various pillows, sheets delicate and bundled under you, decorating the softness of your frame so well. He wants to take an actual photo of you, keep a mental snapshot of how fragile you look right now. A thrum of pride running through him at the privilege you've offered him by being privy to the sight of you in such a vulnerable state, batting your eyelashes up at him as a silent plea. What do you need, baby? Ask, and he'll do it. Fuck, you could even ask him to get you the moon and he'd do his fucking best to, would do literally anything you'd ask, simply because of the honour he feels by being by your side.

And the way you so meekly nod up at him, sugary sweet dulcet tones coaxing him closer, convinces him to at least press his tip to your little asshole in the meantime; awaiting his courage to build. Rimming the outside lazily, as if he has all the time in the world to indulge, ignoring the tight clutch your existence has on his body in favour of patiently waiting for your answer. Because there's nothing sexier to him than to receive your explicit consent before ruining your insides, tainting your cute asshole with his beads precum in waiting. "I think so." You plainly mewl up at him, the shy tone you adopt going straight to his balls with how full and fat they feel for you, teasing himself upon your hole like it's all he knows. The world quite literally in his palms as he helps spread your legs a bit further, a little wider, in preparation to accept his love. Or, more crassly, to shove his rock hard cock deep into your virgin ass. A pleasure, of course, to know that you trust him enough with such a disgustingly perverted task.

He privately promises to not let you down.

Still, despite your confirmation, he struggles to find the courage to fully dive in. Heart stuttering out of unadulterated affection for you, spilling out of the tip of his cock in copious amounts of precum he plays around with while dropping a fist to the base of his cock to angle it better, circling his tip against you slowly, almost sensually as a light taunt before he inevitably has to give you what you want.

And it's not that he doesn't want to be balls deep in your ass; he's just a little afraid that he won't preform to your liking. Wanting to do his absolute utmost to make you feel good so that there's hope in the future for him to be between your legs like this again. But the heavenly sigh you sound when he gently pushes against your hole, teasingly threatening to enter as you shake and shiver under him, convinces him to give you more than just a light poke. Instincts kicking in in an effort to hear you make more of those sweet sounds his cock ruts out of you, easing his way inside of your little hole with intense care. Slow and steady, making sure to occasionally draw his hips back every second or so to make the glide inside all the easier on you; though he's leaking enough precum to dirty your lube soaked insides anyway, but he's so conscious about not hurting you as he gradually pushes more inches inside. His face resembling a look of pain from the sheer tightness of your ass around him, an unfamiliar squish wrapped around his length that he can barely focus on because he's all too busy listening to the brief gasps and cute whimpers his cock cautiously humps out of you.

He only realises he's fully sheathed inside of your tight asshole when he tries to hump more of his cock inside, and instead he ends up rocking you on the bed a little. Harshly exhaling a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding in, quickly panting above you when he pulls his hips back once again, leaving only the tip left inside of you with a shaky grin on his face. A wobble in his lips, tongue poking out to wet them before he asks: "Are you— S-shit—" Cut off by the way your insides clench and squirm around his sensitive tip, willing himself to remain still until he finishes his sentence.

"Are you sure you're— Uh, I mean, t doesn't hurt, does it? You'll tell me if it hurts, won't you? You're ready, right?" Is he? Looking down at you through squinted eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling sharply above you to try and hold himself back, because if he had it his way, he'd already be railing your body shape into the sheets under you by now. Cock twitching and drooling inside your ass, lust crazed mind just begging to get moving already—

"Uh huh." Is all you manage to say in response to all of his questions, but given how fucking horny he is right now, and how hard his cock throbs for you, he simply can't stop himself from thrusting into you the second you give him consent. A bit too fast for his own liking, but he's similarly unable to slow down once he feels how fucking tight and good it feels to fuck into your asshole. To feel the rim struggle to stretch around his intrusion, fat cock bullied into the too small hole over and over again as a smile tugs on his lips.

Fucking knew it'd feel so good, holy shit— he thinks to himself, providing you only heavy heaving breaths and high pitched broken moans, unable to contain his enjoyment from the moment he starts a fast enough pace to leave him dizzy. Reeling with pleasure, almost immediately falling on top of you with both hands placed on the back of your thighs, keeping your legs high and up over his shoulders to allow him an easier time to sodomise you as best he can. Really leaning his weight behind every thrust, resting his head against your own with an unnatural smile, forced upon him from how downright dirty it feels to be fucking your ass like this, to be knocking out every whine and whimper from your pretty mouth with every greedy thrust he offers your hole. Like a fucking dog, panting and drooling against your neck when he shifts to moan down your ear— wants to let you hear exactly what your little asshole does to him, how getting to fuck you in such an abnormal fashion turns him on beyond belief; fuck, you don't fucking get it. How every time his balls slap against your ass with a muted plap!, echoed by the fat globs of lube dripping from your hole every time he pulls his hips all the way back, how the way your legs tremble and lock behind his neck, effectively pinning him in place balls deep in your ass, or how your nails desperately cling and claw at his back every time he bullies his cock all the way inside; it's all too much for him.

Especially considering the amount of teasing he's not only had you suffer through, but had to endure for himself, too. Greedy with his affection, selfish in his desires to ruin you that he's only went and ended up fucking himself stupid within just a few minutes. Repeatedly humping you with fast strokes, forcing you to feel every hefty inch of his fat cock fucking your ass into his shape. Pretty girl, offering yourself up to him on a silver platter— it's obvious that he wouldn't be able to help himself from ruining you. Staining your ass with shared slick, cock throbbing against your squishy insides with every gush of lube he fucks out of you, tightening his grip on your thighs to signal something growing inside of him, a burning in his tummy that he isn't quite aware of until it's too late. You just feel so fucking good, baby. Making him feel so dumb with it, made him so unfairly stupid inside of your tight little non virgin ass now with fast fucks; this could only end one way.

It's also because he just loves you so, so, fucking much. An almost unbearable amount, if he's honest. Heart hurting in sheer adoration for you and your tight fucking body, oh my God. His nails dig into the fat of your thighs once again, his jaw tight and balls taut as a gasp crawls up his throat—

"Ah—! Fuuck—!" His moan is drawn out and hidden in the crook of your neck, cut off and picked up again due to the amount of frustration he feels for cumming already so early, sensitive tip spilling a fat load of seed into your too tight ass, his eyes rolling back in equal parts overstimulation from how well you ass squeezes cum out his cock, and also from upset over how the experience is already practically over. Too zealous in his efforts to make you comfortable, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine when he continue to lazily fuck his cock inside to ride out his orgasm, making sure your asshole takes all of his cum like a good girl with repeated ropes shot as deep as possible. Balls heavy on your backside until he's done.

He may have came prematurely, but he'd still like to enjoy himself with his favourite girl, so he makes sure to keep fucking you full until he slips out due to softening, and he can feel his cheeks heat up in response.

To remedy his misgivings, especially after you've given him such a special evening, he mumbles swift sorries in your ear before snaking down to shove his face between your legs; an attempt to hide his embarrassment as well as to reward you for treating him so well.

"Let me make it up to you." he mutters against your clit, giving it a quick kiss before dipping lower, nosing at your hole on the way down before sticking his tongue out to eat his cum from your ass. Kitten licking soon turned into full on lapping with the addition of his thumb on your clit, determined to make you feel even a fraction as good as you've made him feel tonight. That, and he'd like to help clean you up— one greedy gulp at a time.