#I thought it would be so cool to have him be able to possess others to penetrate the minds of other people

[dancingbirdie]

For your smut ideas- astarion leaving bite marks on your thighs👀 pretty vampy elf being all possessive👀

Hi, anon! I loved this request, but I have to warn you: I took it to a bit of a darker place than I usually go. Pay attention to the tags, y'all. I hope you enjoy!

Like my smut writing? Find more here.

Your Feral Love

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1K

Warnings/Tags: Biting, descriptions of blood, possessive/obsessive Astarion, marking/claiming behavior, oral sex (fem!Reader receiving)

Summary: Astarion has an intense desire to claim you. This time, it's in places the others won't be able to see.

*****

“Maybe we need to take things slower,” you murmured in Astarion’s ear. You swallowed thickly as he dragged his fangs across the sensitive skin of your neck. 

“Whyever would we do that?” he whispered huskily, undeterred from continuing his sensual assault. You shivered as you felt his tongue slide up the column of your throat, unable to stop the little moan that escaped your lips.

“Some in our party are worried… about all the bite marks…” you managed to explain, despite the tantalizing option to just lose yourself in Astarion’s embrace. His cool touch was a balm to the inferno he was stoking within you. The creator of your lust; the only cure for it. 

But his lips withdrew from your neck at your response. Pulling back, he met your gaze with furrowed brows and a glare that could make even Lae’zel balk. 

“Who.” he demanded, his voice strained with barely-repressed anger. “Who had the audacity to murmur about us?” 

His fingers spasmed where they clutched your waist. As if he were bracing for the moment when someone would come and yank you away from him. 

He was possessive, your lover. Astarion hadn’t had anything to call his own for over two centuries. Not a thing. Not a soul. Now, after having lowered his guards and allowed you in, his possessive streak was as long and wide as the River Chianthar. He was never far from your side, even in battle. And on the rare occasions he was separated from you, you could feel the heat of his gaze tracking your every movement. Watching you. Making sure his one claim in this world was safe. Accounted for. 

The bite marks were a consequence of having not only a possessive lover but a vampiric one as well. You didn’t mind, of course. He always asked for your consent. 

Can I bite you here?

Your blood is singing to me, darling. Can I taste you here? 

What about here? Would you let me sate myself here? 

You flourished under the intensity of his love for you. The bite marks were a reminder of that, and so you cherished each one. Each was a memory of the way Astarion had taken, given and enjoyed you. Heat would sometimes color your cheeks and neck later on, when you caught sight of a pair of healing puncture marks, recalling just how they had come to be there, on that particular part of your body. 

But others in your party didn’t share your view of these markings. They, namely Wyll and Gale, were worried Astarion had started taking too much of your lifeblood too quickly. You could understand their concern, to some extent. They didn’t know, didn’t have reason to know, how little of your blood he actually took each night. Most times he would drink barely a mouthful before stopping. The urge to claim you in other ways would overtake his bloodlust, and you would climax again and again as he fucked you into oblivion. He kept his fangs punctured in your skin during times like these, claiming that your blood felt sweeter against them as you found your own release. Only when he had spilled himself in you would he remove them, and by then you were too lovestruck to care how long the markings would remain. 

“Tell me, darling.” 

Astarion’s voice brought you back to the present moment. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts distracting you. 

“...Mostly, Wyll. And Gale, to a lesser extent. I don’t know for certain about the others, although I certainly don’t think anyone comes to our defense…” you trailed off, swallowing thickly. 

You caught how Astarion clenched his jaw at your words. He was livid, that much was obvious. You also surmised his anxiety was likely surging within him, the paranoia suggesting that someone or something would cause you to be taken from him. Again, his fingers spasmed against your waist. 

“...So maybe we should… I don’t know, keep a lower profile about all this? If they say something to you directly, I know I’ll not be able to stop myself from fighting with them,” you explained, clutching his cheek desperately. 

“Tsk. Of course the ones who would have a problem with us would be the only other two who’ve been sniffing after you,” Astarion scoffed.

“What the hells are you talking about?” you asked, clearly confused. 

“Oh, darling. Surely you’ve seen the way they look at you? How they talk to you? I certainly have,” he huffed. 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pay them attention, Astarion,” you reassured him, nuzzling your nose against the curve of his jaw. “I only have eyes for you.” 

“And I, you,” he murmured, pressing his lips lovingly against your forehead. 

You hummed in delight at his affirmation. While you might not show it through bite marks like him, your possessiveness of Astarion was a fearsome thing, too. The emotion sometimes staggered you, even in the most mundane of moments, like when he donned his armor for the day, or when he cleaned his daggers in the firelight. He was yours. You were his. Anyone else was tertiary. 

The two of you remained in comfortable silence for some time, limbs intertwined as you lay halfway on top of him, your head resting against his chest. There was no beating heart within to listen to, but it hardly mattered. You knew that what was there, beating or not, belonged to you and only you. Astarion had said as much, amid previous bouts of lovemaking you had shared in this tent.

Your musings broke at the feeling and sound of his throaty chuckle beneath you. You lifted your head to meet his gaze, surprised. 

“What is it?” you pressed.

“I have an idea,” he smirked. 

“I usually like your ideas,” you quipped, heat flaring in your lower abdomen at the suggestive look in his eyes. 

“Then you’ll surely enjoy this,” he crooned, before flipping you both over all at once so that you were flat on your back, breathless beneath him. He fit perfectly between the cradle of your thighs, your legs parting almost instinctively to accommodate his presence. With one arm, he propped himself up above you, while his other hand clutched your leg to bare you open wider. The position alone had you growing wetter by the second, anticipation for what was to come driving your thoughts wild. 

“Much as I detest pandering to their concerns, I think we both know I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from fighting with them either, were they to say something directly to us,” Astarion admitted. 

“But,” he continued as his nose skimmed the length of your abdomen, heading further and further south. “I also can’t deny how much pleasure it gives me to mark you as I do… to see the evidence of where my fangs have punctured your lovely skin. Mine. No one else’s.”

You bit your lip in a futile effort to stifle your moan as he began brushing the lightest of kisses against your inner thighs. He slid down lower, his face mere inches from your naked form. This close, you were certain he could smell your arousal. And no doubt find evidence of it as well. 

“So what is your idea?” you managed in a breathy whisper as your hips canted toward him, seemingly of their own volition. 

“How about I mark you here,” he cooed, his fangs sliding along a particularly visible vein that spanned the length of your leg, beginning at your groin. “Where only I can see. A place they can only dream of. A place only I have been.” 

You groaned, skin tingling, nearly electric, in every place his mouth touched. You reached down to card a hand through his carelessly flawless locks, tugging ever so gently on the curls. Astarion growled in response, sending a surge of heat through your lower abdomen. 

You were teasing a livewire at the moment, and you knew it. Just a little push, and you would ignite something truly mind blowing. You chose your next words carefully, readying yourself for the delicious consequences that would no doubt ensue.  

“I’m yours, Astarion,” you whispered, spreading your legs even further for him and clutching his face desperately. “You can lay claim to me however you wish.” 

Another growl ripped from his throat at your words and, in a blink, your lower body was pinned to the ground. His arms banded under and around your thighs to hold you in place, not that you had any desire to move. You whimpered as Astarion nipped and sucked his way across the expanse of skin, his nose grazing your soaked cunt from time to time, causing you to jerk with want. 

“Please,” you begged, desperate to have his mouth on your swollen, throbbing clit. He was so close to where you wanted – no, needed – him to be and yet still so far. 

“Oh no, not yet, darling,” he purred against the plush skin of your thigh. “I’m going to mark you until I’m satisfied first. Then I’ll give you what you crave, I promise.”

You whined, a pathetic little sound, but nodded your assent anyway. Any touch from him was better than nothing, even if it did cause your cunt to ache with a nearly unbearable need.

Then a sudden spike of iciness on your inner thigh had you gasping in surprise, morphing into a long, low moan as you realized Astarion had actually bitten you there. You could feel him sucking your lifeblood into his mouth, your sense of touch being so heightened in your aroused state. 

You lifted your head to watch him move from one place to another as he marked and sated himself. You cradled the side of his head lovingly as he fed from you, swiping your thumb rhythmically across his temple. You were utterly entranced, lost in the delicious feeling of him claiming you, as well as the way he beheld you as he sunk his fangs in again and again across your skin. 

He looked at you with the fervor of a madman. He clutched at your legs like some covetous creature. Drunk on the need to possess, to claim, to mark. It was dark, powerful, and heady. And you absolutely reveled in it, ravenous with want as you witnessed how his love for you manifested in such an incendiary way. 

With a moan of his own, he finally broke from his feasting. Lifting his head to meet your gaze, your cunt clenched at his expression, at his his bloody mouth, grinning widely with purely male satisfaction. 

“It should be a crime, you know,” he rasped, his chest heaving with uneven breaths. “How delicious you taste.” 

You whined at his words, desperate to have him taste you in another way.

“Shh, shh. I know, I know,” he crooned, squeezing your legs reassuringly. “I know how you want to be tasted now, darling. Don’t fret.”

Your back arched off the ground as, without another word, Astarion dipped his head to plunge his tongue inside your dripping core. Your mind short circuited as you felt his nose press against your clit with intent as his tongue continued to spear into you. It was almost too much to bear; your nerves already were nearly raw with desire. 

You couldn’t help the wail that burst from your lips as you felt his tongue lick up, up, up, until he was circling your clit with long, languid strokes. You fisted a blanket and bit down on the fabric, the last shred of your self-awareness working like mad to muffle your sounds.

You knew Astarion was too far gone to care if anyone heard you both, as evidenced by the obscene slurping and smacking sounds that emanated from his lips. That alone had you ratcheting up faster toward climax, relishing the way it felt and sounded to have Astarion feasting on you with such utter abandon.

A few more moments of floating in that delicious limbo and then you were crashing back down from the height of your orgasm. It felt like an almost spiritual experience, though no cleric could ever convince you that a god’s love would feel as good as this, as good as Astarion’s love for you.

Panting and shivering in the aftershock of your release, you clutched at him desperately, eager to embrace him with as much strength your jellied limbs could muster. He crawled up to lay haphazardly on top of you, head resting in the space between your breasts. You combed your fingers through his hair lovingly, content to remain in companionable silence.  

“I’m realizing now that I may have in fact gotten a little out of hand…” he murmured against your sternum after a while. 

“Perhaps,” you chuckled. “But I’ll take your feral love over anything else, my star.”

[bro-atz]

concrete bear

in which: jongho's finally done with his intense schedules, so he finally is able to dedicate more time to you.

pair: boyfriend!idol!jongho/afab!reader

word count: 5k

content: smut, jongho is possessive (+ a lil jealous?), basically mean dom jongho, homemade porno??, filthy as fuck boi, reader calls jongho teddy bear, jongho calls reader sweetheart and a colorful assortment of other "nicknames", legit most of it is sex, blowjobs, car sex, cabin sex, slight cnc, consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: brought to you by @songmingisthighs, your local bro, and @skteezcursed the most impulsive of collabs fr i don't even remember how we came up with this, but it's def iconic hehe also ik this took like five million years but there were a lot of speed bumps that i managed to figure out

network: @cromernet @cultofdionysusnet @atzhouse

taglist: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @dutchessskarma @yourlocaljonghoe @st4rhwa @frobin4ever @sanhwajjong @certifiedmoa @therealcuppicake @yuyubeans @hyunukitty @startlinglyoongi @hyukssunflower @chewyhotteoks @alexwritesfics @dinossaurz @woomyteez @skteezcursed @yessa-vie @sanglix @minkilicious @isiloiale apply for the permanent taglist here! beefcake raccoon, concrete bear, manwich series

Jongho had no reason to be jealous— he did give Yeosang his blessing, after all— and he wasn’t jealous, but he was slightly displeased.

He told Yeosang to make sure all your needs were met, and he only really expected it to happen once, but when he saw that Yeosang was giving it to you regularly while he was busy recording in the studio with Hongjoong, he was slightly, just slightly, displeased. He didn’t think that you would take to the man so well, so easily, but you did.

To make matters a little worse, he returned home one night to a seemingly empty space, and when he went to his room to turn in for the night, he saw you and Yeosang fucking on his bed. He minded that a lot. But, he kept his mouth shut. After all, he did tell Yeosang to pleasure you for as long as he couldn’t.

This went on for about two weeks— Yeosang fucked you every single night for two weeks until Hongjoong finally released Jongho from the depths of his studio. And luckily for Jongho, it was Yeosang’s turn in the studio next, which meant he seriously had nothing to worry about.

But that didn’t stop him from planning a weekend getaway trip for the two of you.

You knew that Jongho liked snowboarding and skiing, so when he told you about the trip, you were surprised but also not in the same breath. Regardless, you were excited. Fuck, it was the first time in what felt like months you were finally going to have proper alone time with your boyfriend, and you were so excited.

Well, you were excited, but also a little sad.

You had grown a lot more fond of your beefcake raccoon, and you really liked having sex with him, so you were honestly a little disappointed when Jongho said he was finally done being tortured by the captain, but you did your best not to show it because he was your boyfriend for crying out loud. You should be excited to spend time with him and not the man he practically made be your sex toy for a couple of weeks.

“Sweetheart?” Jongho’s smooth voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Everything alright?”

The two of you were at a cafe near the cabin Jongho rented out— he suggested getting coffee because you kept nodding off during the car ride. You didn’t realize how spaced out you were until you nodded and took a sip of your fucking cold coffee.

“Jesus,” you grimaced as you swallowed the cooled off and now disgusting liquid. “My coffee went cold.”

“Of course it did. I’ve been talking to you for thirty minutes, and all you’ve done is mindlessly nod,” Jongho scoffed. “You even nodded when I asked you if I should murder you.”

“O-Oh… Sorry, teddy bear.”

“Uh-huh.”

You shivered— Jongho had never been that icy towards you ever. He wasn’t pissed, but you knew he was getting there.

“Seriously, I’m so sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind,” you said softly.

“I’m sure you do,” Jongho nodded and took a sip of his— probably cold— coffee without even looking at you. “A lot has happened in the past two weeks.”

“Yeah…”

Jongho set his cup down and looked right at you at that point, his eyes burning a hole through you. He laced his fingers together and placed them on his knee as he crossed his legs. You felt the saliva pool in your mouth as you watched his thighs flex and his jaw clench slightly.

“Tell me something,” he started.

“What?”

“Was he good?”

You blinked, your eyes wide with shock. You nearly choked on your own spit as you choked out, “H-Huh?”

“Was he good?” he repeated, this time his tone a little more harsh.

“What—”

“Was Yeosang good?” you could tell Jongho was getting fed up by the way his eyebrows were furrowing into a straight line, his eyes hardening.

You couldn’t help but sigh not because you were frustrated, but because you were so close to laughing out of sheer nervousness. Running your fingers through your hair, you pressed your lips together before asking honestly, “Teddy bear, how do you want me to answer this?”

“Truthfully.”

“It was good.” Not going to lie, Yeosang was definitely better than good, but there was no way in hell you were going to praise another man in front of your long-term boyfriend.

“Good,” Jongho accepted your response as he leaned back in his chair and nodded. “Good.”

You didn’t know that Jongho was glad to hear you say that. Well, he knew that you were lying because there was no way in hell Yeosang was only “good” when he heard the way you were screaming his name when he accidentally caught the two of you that one time, but he was happy to see that that was how you were going to play it. With newfound determination, Jongho stood up. He pushed in his chair and asked, “Are you done?”

“Oh, uh, yeah!” you set down your cold-ass coffee and stood up as well, your legs scurrying after Jongho, who had already turned and started heading out of the shop.

Jongho had gotten into the car first by the time you got out of the shop. You quickly got into the passenger’s seat, and he started the car. The air in the car got thicker rapidly as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, the silence from the man practically killing you.

“Teddy bear…?” you spoke softly as he drove quickly on the highway, his hands grasping the steering wheel tightly. “Is everything… Are you okay?”

Your boyfriend didn’t reply, which only made you more antsy. Your body flushed with warmth when you caught his eyes flitting to you— more specifically, your legs. It was freezing outside, and you still opted to wear his favorite skirt since you were able to accompany them with tights, which you knew would drive the man absolutely insane.

One hand on the steering wheel, Jongho cupped the inside of your thigh with the other, his dainty fingers getting a tight grip on them. You couldn’t help but press your legs together as you tried to keep yourself together, but the tighter his hold on you got, the more you unraveled.

It certainly did not help when he started caressing the inside of your thigh, his fingers nearing your crotch with every rub. Still with one hand on the wheel, he skillfully exited the highway and drove through what seemed like a tiny, abandoned town before coming to a stop in a very empty parking lot. He stopped the car in a far corner of the lot and unbuckled both his and your seatbelt.

You didn’t need to ask him any more questions after that because, before you could even blink, Jongho unbuckled his pants and pulled out his stiff, angry cock. He looked you dead in the eye as he uttered, “Suck,” and you obeyed instantly.

The thing was that Jongho was being curt with his words— but he wasn’t angry. Rather, he was impatient, and the shorter his sentences were, the more his patience was wearing thin, the more he wanted to fuck you. Holding your hair back, you bent over and took him into your mouth.

It had been a while since you’d dealt with your boyfriend’s thick cock that you didn’t realize how wide you would have to open your mouth. You were honestly too used to Yeosang’s dick by then, after all. The corners of your mouth stung as his cock filled up your mouth entirely, your head moving slowly as you sucked him off. But, you were moving much too slowly for him, nor were you going down far enough. Grasping your hair himself, Jongho got a good grip on your scalp before pushing your head down all the way, making you gag and nearly making the corners of your mouth rip.

You could taste his salty precum hit the back of your throat every time Jongho guided your head, forcing you to give him a blowjob according to his wishes. And the thing is you would’ve minded had you not heard his airy groans fill up the car. You desperately wanted to look up at him and see the faces he made as you blew him, but his hold on you was so strong that you could only keep your head down.

“Just like that,” Jongho sighed blissfully as he felt you hollow out your cheeks and slurp up your dripping saliva. “Your mouth feels so fucking good, sweetheart.”

Muffled by his cock in your mouth, you made a lewd noise that somewhat resembled your own satisfaction. Bringing your hand to his cock, you stroked him as you continued to suck, bringing his orgasm closer with every stroke. You felt his grip on your hair falter, finally allowing you to look up at him. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was dropped open, his head flung back as he did his best to control his breathing. The second he brought his head down and looked at you, he couldn’t hold back. He came in your mouth, his hand finding its way back to your head as he forced you to stay down.

“You better fucking swallow, sweetheart,” he groaned and slightly hissed as he ordered you.

Looking up at him with wide eyes and his cock still deep in your mouth, you swallowed. You sat up, a trail of your saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his penis. You straightened out your hair thinking that he was done, that he was going to get himself situated and resume driving, but his cock was still hard and thirsty. He moved his seat back all the way and patted his thighs as he shot you a dark, lusty look.

“R-Really?” you stuttered, unsure of whether or not he was being serious.

“Really. Pull your tights and panties down and get on my lap. Now.”

You did as he asked— demanded— quickly, your legs starting to tremble as you knelt on the driver’s seat, your knees on either side of him as you straddled him. You did like the idea of car sex with him, but the position you were in made you nervous as hell because what if your ass hit the steering wheel and made the car honk? Sure, the parking lot was empty and no one would know that you were being fucked by the concrete bear below you, but you would still die of embarrassment if the car did honk.

“T-Teddy,” you said tearily as you hovered above his cock. “W-What if my ass hits the steering wheel?”

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t,” Jongho assured you. “Now sit.”

Gulping, you spread your folds and sat down slowly, the girth of your boyfriend’s cock nearly splitting you in two. Jongho let out a groan of pleasure while you sighed blissfully. As much as you liked the way Yeosang felt inside you, you definitely, definitely, missed Jongho’s fat cock.

Once you sat all the way down, you held Jongho’s shoulders and leaned into him. Your legs were shaking so bad that you couldn’t even start bouncing on his lap. So, Jongho assisted you. His fingers dug into your ass cheeks as he cupped them and he started guiding you, your waist rising as falling as he forcibly moved you. He ran his tongue along your neck as he moved you at a slow and steady rhythm, the sound of your ass coming down on his lap echoing in the car. Soon, the car started filling with the sounds of your breathless pants and the creaking of the driver’s seat as Jongho bounced you a little faster.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Jongho asked— you couldn’t see his face, but you knew for a fact that he was smirking. “You missed my fat cock, didn’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you confirmed while biting your lower lip, the pleasure starting to rush to your head.

“Use your words,” Jongho suddenly snapped, his hand smacking your ass with a loud slap.

“I-I missed your— Ah! Your f-fat cock, Jjong!”

“You just love it when my cock fills you up like this, right? When my waist— Hnngh— Hits yours from below?” Jongho said while thrusting his waist up sharply, his hips ramming into yours.

You let out a loud cry and gripped his shoulders more tightly as he started to fuck you relentlessly, his waist coming up to meet yours with such vigor that you felt like his cock was going to shoot right through you. That, plus the feeling of his hands gripping, pulling, and spreading your ass cheeks the more he fucked you made your brain go absolutely numb.

“Move your top and bra,” Jongho said sensually into your ear before running his tongue along the edge of your ear. “I wanna suck on those lovely tits of yours.”

Thankfully, Jongho allowed you to stop so you could lean back and push your shirt and bra up, revealing your erect nipples. You felt warmth rush through your body when you saw Jongho run his tongue over his lower lip briefly before taking your tit into his mouth and sucking hard. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his hair as you let out a sweet moan, your insides fluttering as he sucked and resumed fucking you.

You were rapidly losing all sense of sanity by that point. Every time you sat down, you felt like his cock was just getting bigger— either that or you were getting tighter as your orgasm neared. And you didn’t know why it was it, but when Jongho brought his teeth down on your tit and nibbled lightly, you came. Your entire body tensed as you creamed all over his cock, the pleasure continuing to build and build as he refused to stop letting you ride him.

“J-Jongho, Ah— Lemme cum,” you whined, your body yearning for perfect release.

Jongho listened. He pulled you off his cock quickly and completely, making your thighs convulse as you squirted all over his lap, your arousal staining his pants. And without a second to lose, he slid his cock back into you and fucked you so fast and hard that the stars that filled your vision when you came refused to go away.

“I’m cumming inside,” he grunted, his forehead pressed against your collarbone as his breathing started faltering.

His breaths got higher in pitch and shallower as he felt his climax arriving, and with a final thrust, Jongho came inside you, stuffing you full with his hot load of cum. His cock twitched and throbbed as he emptied himself inside you entirely, and once he was completely done, he kept you on his lap, his hands moving up to your breasts to massage them as he peppered kisses along your neck.

“I want you to listen to me,” he whispered, his voice huskier than you’d ever heard it before. “You need to keep my cum inside you. Don’t let any of it spill. If it does, then I’m going to fucking punish you, got it?”

Your body tingled all over hearing his demands, and when you leaned back to see the expression on his face, your heart fluttered. His words were deathly serious, but he had such a sweet, misleading smile on his face that you wondered what on Earth he was planning if you did end up disobeying him.

“Got it?” he repeated.

“Yes, teddy bear,” you said hoarsely while nodding.

Jongho somehow got you off his lap without letting any of his seed spill, and the two of you got situated. He ended up changing his pants— you were so busy trying to dress yourself carefully and clench with all of your might to make sure you didn’t spill a drop of his cum, so you didn’t even realize he had done so— before hitting the road again.

The drive to the cabin he rented out was actual torture. Jongho kept a firm hand on your thigh and made your pussy quiver every time his slender fingers moved closer to your crotch. You knew he was testing you, teasing you, trying to get you to spill so he could punish you. And you were determined to keep him in you, but that determination slowly faded the more turned you got.

Jongho was doing every single thing intentionally because he wanted to punish you. He wasn’t jealous or anything, he swears. He wanted to punish you for being a rude brat to him while he was struggling to work. He wanted to punish you for being so unbearably impatient that he had to entrust another member of his team to satisfy you and keep you occupied so that you wouldn’t be harassing him. He wanted to punish you for being such a cunt, such a slut that you had to fuck Yeosang every single day for two weeks straight.

His fingers found their way to your clothed clit and started drawing circles around it while he kept his eyes glued to the road, his face stoic. You gasped out and immediately tried to move his hand away from you while choking back lewd noises.

“Teddy bear,” you whined. “P-Please…”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice low.

You wanted to tell him to stop, but you didn’t want him to stop. You genuinely needed him to if you were going to keep him from punishing you, but you honestly would rather cum than have him edge you because his fingers rubbing against you just felt that fucking good.

That, and you couldn’t even vocalize your thoughts at that point. Your vision was going white as you felt him rub faster, your orgasm approaching speedily. You had a tight grip on his wrist, and you desperately tried to move his hand away when you felt the knot in your stomach snap, but Jongho was an immovable force. Clenching your thighs together, you came hard, letting the car fill up with your loud cries of pleasure.

And it was when the high ebbed away did you realize you were fucked— because when you came, you squirted, making his cum seep out of your pussy. Dear God, you were absolutely fucked.

The second you got to the cabin, Jongho started manhandling you. He grabbed your arm and led you right into the bedroom before grabbing you by the waist and tossing you on the bed. The bed springs squeaked as you landed and let out a gasp of disbelief. He immediately pinned you on the bed, his hands aiming for the waistband of your skirt and yanking it off. He ripped a hole right through your tights and tore the crotch of your panties right off to reveal your soaking wet pussy that had absolutely no cum left in it— it remained on your panties swimming alongside your arousal.

“You didn’t keep it in,” Jongho stated, disappointment evident in his voice. “You really want me to punish you, don’t you?”

“How the fuck was I supposed to when you literally made me cum again in the car?” you shot back, nearly hysteric.

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t fucking talk back to me.”

But you were going to, and the second you opened your mouth to do so, he grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your cheeks. He pulled your face towards his, his lips dangerously close to yours as he said in a hushed tone, “You’re going to listen to everything I tell you, got it?”

“That’s my punishment?”

“Yes.”

That didn’t seem so bad, but since you didn’t know was what he was going to tell you to do, you didn’t realize exactly how bad it was going to get. As you pondered what he was going to ask of you, he started stripping you down. He swiftly removed your top and bra and completely ripped your tights off your legs so that you were entirely naked as you laid down on the bed.

From your position on the bed, you watched as Jongho propped his phone up, the camera pointed right at you. Once he was satisfied with the angle, he started recording. He pulled his own clothes off and tossed them somewhere in the room before getting on the bed, his body facing the camera.

“Jongho, are you… Are you recording us having sex?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah.”

“As part of the punishment…?”

“Correct.”

You gulped nervously upon hearing his response. You wanted to ask him why, but you knew that he wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, or even an answer for that matter. So, you let it happen, and you let him pleasure you the way he wanted to.

Wrapping his fingers around your neck, Jongho pressed lightly into your skin, the blood already rushing quickly to your head as it got harder for you to breathe. He lifted you up, your entire body moving upwards to meet his. He flattened his tongue against your lips and licked them before kissing you passionately. His tongue immediately pushed into your mouth, the feeling of his tongue twirling around with yours along with the lack of air making you dizzy and desperate.

The longer Jongho kissed you, the harder it was getting for you to breathe, and while you did want to surface for air, there was something about the way that Jongho was expertly choking and kissing you that made you all sort of horny. You held onto his arms and brought your body closer to his while pulling down on his arms, hoping that he’ll continue kissing you roughly but loosen his strong grip on your neck.

Jongho got the hint. He finally let go of your neck, his hands opting to move to your hair. He gripped the back of your head strongly, snapping your head backwards as he proceeded to slather sloppy, wet kisses along the side of your neck. You were panting hard as Jongho’s lips made their way down your body. While one hand was on your head, the other ran along the curve of your hip and down to your crotch, his fingers stroking your pussy and entering you, making the most lewd squelching noises. You, as if you were trying to cling to your last bit of sanity, clung to his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin.

“Oh, God, Jongho,” you cried as he fingered you ruthlessly, pleasure shooting through your body rapidly. “Oh my God— Oh fuck— Fuck, I’m c-cum—!”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence. You let out a loud whine mixed with a cry as your boyfriend’s skillful fingers made you squirt all over the bed, your body shaking vigorously as the orgasm washed over you. And despite the fact that you just came, Jongho refused to give you a break. The second his fingers were out of you, he turned you over so that you were on your elbows and knees, and he pulled your still sore ass up in the air so he could shove his fat cock into your wet cunt. You flung your head backwards and screamed your boyfriend’s name as you flattened your chest to the mattress, your hands clutching at the duvet beneath you as you felt his waist slam into yours.

“I’m surprised your cunt is still this tight after taking me in the car,” Jongho commented. “Your cunt still hasn’t gotten used to the shape of my cock again yet, sweetheart?”

You could barely think, so there was no way in hell you were going to respond coherently. You responded in the only way you knew how, and that was by moaning his name loudly, the moans slowly starting to turn into screams as he pounded into you from behind.

He had his hands clenching your ass cheeks and slapping your ass every so often, making your ass cheeks redder and even more sore with every passing second. He was relentless.

Then, he changed his position. He pulled out quickly and turned you over. You thought he was going to pin you down, but instead, he laid down on the bed and pulled your waist so that you were straddling him. He forced your hips down quickly, the feeling of his cock filling you up from below making your entire body tremble. You quickly pressed yourself down on his chest, a high-pitched moan leaving your lips.

That’s when you got killer déjà vu. You distinctly remembered Yeosang holding you the same way when Jongho’s hands pulled your legs open and thrust into you from below, his grunts coming out in the same fashion.

“Are you thinking about hyung?” Jongho bit out in between thrusts, totally catching you off guard. “You’re thinking about the way he fucked you in my fucking bed, aren’t you, slut?”

Your eyes went wide. You looked at your boyfriend through your glazed eyes, your entire body reacting to his words— how did he know that Yeosang fucked you in his bed?

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“H-How?”

Jongho smirked. Instead of giving you an answer, he sped up, his cock rubbing against your walls at a greater speed. You squeezed your eyes shut and cried loudly the more you felt your boyfriend’s cock tear your cunt apart, and within seconds, you came again. You clenched hard around his cock, evoking a pleasureful grunt from the man below you before he shoved his cock so deep inside you to fill you with his seed.

You collapsed entirely and buried your nose in the nook of his neck as you fought to regain your breath and sanity, but Jongho was having none of that. He pulled out, letting his cum trickle out of you, then moved you off him. You thought that was it, that he was done with his punishment because you were spent, but Jongho was far from done. It had been more than two weeks since he had fucked you, and he needed you to remember who you belonged to.

Grabbing your wrists, Jongho moved so that he was laying against the headboard, your back facing him as your knees were on either side of his waist. He let go of your wrists to spread your buttocks and push you down on his erection, his cock filling you up from underneath and making you cry out. You grabbed his thighs to help steady yourself, but within seconds, Jongho moved your hands so that they were behind your back, your arms trapped in the strong grip of his hands.

You cried loudly as Jongho thrust into you from below, you breasts moving wildly as you bounced on his lap, the sound of your ass hitting his waist matching the decibel of your moans. Through bleary eyes, you made eye contact with Jongho’s phone’s camera, the realization that his phone was rolling making your entire body flush with heat, making your cunt relax ever so slightly, but Jongho didn’t miss that note at all.

“You’re suddenly loose? What, is my cock not good enough for your cunt?” Jongho grunted out, his hips hitting yours even more firmly. “Do you really want that fucking beefcake raccoon’s pretty penis inside you right now? Do you want hyung to fuck you, slut?”

“N-No!” You immediately wailed in response. “I o— Oh! Only want y-you, teddy— Ah!”

“Is that right?”

Sharply snapping his waist up, Jongho moved quickly so that you were pressed against the bed again, your face and chest rubbing into the sheets as he somehow fucked you even harder than before— something you didn’t think was possible. Your arms were still behind your back in one of Jongho’s hands while the other slapped your ass repeatedly, making it so red that you could’ve sworn the friction was about to start a fire.

Jongho muttered profanities under his breath as he fucked you from behind again and again, his pace and strength refusing to let up. When he snaked his arm around your waist and pinched and squeezed your clit, your body couldn’t take it any longer. You buried your face into the sheets below you and screamed loudly as the pleasure overtook you once more, your fingers and toes curling as you came hard.

Your cunt clenched tightly as you creamed around your boyfriend’s cock, making the man hiss with the feeling. He let go of your wrists so he could hold onto your waist and make several more resounding snaps against your waist before releasing his load inside you again, his cock twitching wildly as ropes of cum spurt into you. And when he pulled out, he kept your ass high in the air so he could watch the mixture of his and your cum spill out of you and decorate the sheets below, your folds twitching as your high settled down.

Sticking two of his fingers inside your cunt, he curled them and collected his cum on the tips of his fingers before pulling them out. He moved you so that you were facing the camera once more, your ass planted firmly on the bed as he held you from behind. He had one hand on your breast, tenderly kneading and squishing it while he stuffed his cum-covered fingers in your mouth to give you a taste.

“Let’s get something straight,” he whispered in your ear, his lips sweeping against the edge of your ear. “At the end of the day, you’re mine.”

He removed his fingers from your mouth and turned your head so that you were looking at him, his eyes forward, locked with the camera. He maintained his eye contact with the camera as his lower lip brushed against yours, teasing you, making your body flush with warmth once again.

“Yeosang hyung can fuck you as much as he’d like, but your cunt was made for me.”

[fictionismyreality3]

Can we have a smut of stalker Jason with somnophilia and crazy to eat pussy? Plsss

I mean, Jason is a natural fucking pussy eater.

AND I'M HAPPY TO HAVE PLACED YOUR FIRST RESQUET!!

Can I be the 💦 anon? To u know that is me

Too Much to Take (18+)

Jason Todd x Reader

Tags: Smut, stalker!jason todd, possessive!jason todd

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, somnophilia, stalking, dubcon, guns, drugs, little to no aftercare.

Notes: hi babes!! I’m so so sorry this took so long, a bear ate my phone. My beautiful 💦 your request is much appreciated. I know it’s unrealistic that the reader never wakes up but I have nevER EVER BEEN HAPPIER.

The cool, night breeze of Bludhaven blew the white chiffon curtains your mother had gotten you in the wind. Across from your bed sat a gorgeous, kingly armchair where you loved to sit and read. Your apartment was carefully decorated by your artful hands, each piece put perfectly in its place. When you got home everyday, you knew you would be returning to a safe, cozy home full of memories and comfort items. Everything was just how it should be.

That’s why the man standing in your apartment was so out of place.

You were asleep, of course. Knocked out after a long day running errands. Your bed had welcomed you warmly, and you couldn’t resist cracking open your window just a little bit, wanting to savour the start of spring.

You knew the automatic danger that came with living in Bludhaven, but you’d saved up enough to move to a nicer area, and your apartment was on the 8th floor of your building. Surely, nobody would bother risking the fall.

Surely.

It had been three days since Jason had first saw you. Three days too long since he’d seen you in person. He’d watched you nearly every minute of the last 72 hours, consuming every ounce of information he could find about you and your life.

His shift watching over Bludhaven ended tomorrow, when Dick would be returning from wherever he went. So, he only had around a day left of viable excuse to be near you. After that, finding a reason to be in Bludhaven even longer would be his main priority. It was clear that he’d already be wherever you were. The thought of not being able to reach you was enough to shatter what little was left of his soul.

No, no, there was no going back now.

And so, Jason found himself perched on the rooftop across from your building, the endless Bludhaven rain pelting across his broad shoulders.

He spent the first few moments watching you carry out your night routine. It was all things many people in Bludhaven overlooked, or dropped as soon as their lives were overtaken by the chaos in the city. Somehow, you’d managed to maintain a semblance of a normal life even while being surrounded by shootings and drug runs.

He stayed still, hovering over your apartment like a cloud of death, his gaze never breaking to stray to anything else but you. He watched you make dinner, he watched you tidy up, he watched you get ready for bed. All of it was as fascinating to him as everything he’d seen when he researched your background.

All the little habits you did. The way you fiddled with the timer on the stove while you waited for the food, the way you danced to your music while you did dishes, the way you preferred an endless heap of pillows on your bed. Every little quirk he watched served to drill your presence deeper into his being. You were exactly what he needed.

So pure.

Innocent enough to leave your bedroom window open in the middle of a crime surge in the only city worse than Gotham.

It gave Jason the perfect opportunity to watch you sleep, and the perfect opportunity to survey your apartment for places to set up cameras. He’d need to make sure that he had every inch of the place covered so he could watch you at all times. The last thing Jason wanted was for some criminal or other creep to breathe the same air as you.

Oh, how cute.

He looked on as you settled into bed, reaching over to your nightstand to pat the head of a tiny giraffe plushy, as if it would stand guard and protect you from all the dangers in the world. You didn’t need a stupid plushie. You had him now.

But what if you needed him and he wasn’t there? What if you left your window open every night and someone with worse intentions was there to take advantage of it? He needed to be there to protect you, to keep away all the dangers and make sure you lived like a princess. It could happen tonight if Jason wasn’t careful. He couldn’t have that.

Wind blew the curtains in your window aside, as if the world was parting the barriers that lay between you. He was just going to make sure that nobody who was less well meaning than him would take a chance to hurt you.

With the speed of years and years of training, Jason hopped from rooftop to rooftop, as quiet as a panther stalking its prey. But Jason wasn’t stalking you. No, he was helping you, making sure you were safe.

Landing on your fire escape balcony without a sound, Jason stood motionless as he peered into your bedroom, his eyes locked on your sleeping form.

You were like an angel in his eyes. Something clean and untouched. Something that he could have all to himself now that he’d found you. Jason wasn’t worried about tainting you with his red-stained hands, no, you were saving him. You had saved him.

He took the time to study your bedroom, burning each item of decor into his mind. There were so many perfect spots to put cameras, and of course, he’d brought some with him just in case. They were small, tech he had ‘borrowed’ from Bruce’s generous stockpile in the safe house he was staying at.

He could have them placed and synced back up with his computer in less than five minutes. It would be so easy he wouldn’t even wake you.

And Jason didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t just the fact that he felt you looked so peaceful sleeping, something he would hate to disturb, it was that he wasn’t ready.

If you knew who he was, how could he guarantee your safety? Not to mention the fact that you might even try to run from him.

Like hell.

So, Jason found himself pushing the window you’d cracked open further, till he could just slip inside. Landing on the balls of his feet as he’d been trained to do a hundred times before, his presence was barely audible.

Just being in the same room as you felt like he was drunk and more alert than ever all at once. In the back of his mind, a sour voice told him to stop, to let this be the farthest he went and leave before things got out of hand. God forbid Bruce found out. But he pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came.

Taking his time, he walked slowly around your bedroom, his eyes soaking in everything that was just you. It was impossible to resist purusing your things as he came to your dresser. Trailing his fingers across all the little decorations you had, he closed his eyes, imagining he was touching your skin instead.

He couldn’t resist opening the drawers, and nearly sank to his knees when he saw that the first one he opened was full of your panties and bras. His mask suddenly felt constricting, and he immediately noticed his breaths pick up.

“Jesus Christ.” He huffed out in a sharp breath, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Looking back over at you sleeping in the bed, it was like he had the devil on both shoulders. Without thinking long enough to regret it, he reached for the prettiest pair, pocketing it so quickly it may as well had never been there.

Jason let out a heavy sigh, but continued placing cameras in places nobody but him would think to check. He’d have to come back later to do the rest of the apartment.

After just watching you sleep for what felt like far too little time, Jason finally willed himself to turn and leave. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest. The thought of getting to be this close to you, only to have it ripped away, was almost too much to bear. Still, he made his way back to your window. That’s when he heard it.

The sound of rustling sheets filled Jason’s expertly trained ears and his gaze snapped to the noise instantly as he froze in place, halfway out your window.

Dear god.

Where you had been snuggled cutely in your blankets, you had kicked them off to leave your lower half exposed.

Your gorgeous legs lay splayed across your bed, long and elegant. All of his senses were dialled in on the singular sight of you. His cock thrummed with heat almost instantly, his pants stretched out by his girth as his gazed strayed further.

You were wearing a pair of flimsy sleep shorts and a shirt that was far too big for you and he’d be damned if he said it wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

With an amount of restraint he didn’t think he possessed, Jason bit his tongue, practically salivating at the sight of you. He rested his head against the window frame, halfway out of your apartment, halfway towards making a very bad decision.

He should leave. He should leave and never come back and leave you alone and stop. But he couldn’t.

Fuck it.

Refusing to spend any more time not having you, Jason pulled himself back through your window, prowling towards your bed.

He just stood there for a while like he had already, staring at the delicious curve of your ass and feeling his cock harden in his pants. If he was already going to hell for this then he would take his time savouring his sins.

But he could only hold himself back for so long.

With a quiet groan, Jason crept nearer to your side, pulling away the rest of the blankets as carefully as he could. It wasn’t that important for him to see all of you just yet. Not only was his mind only focused on one thing, but he knew he had all the time in the world to study every part of you. You were his after all.

Now that your lower half was exposed to the cool spring air, there was only one barrier keeping Jason from taking what was holding his entire soul. He prayed you were a heavy sleeper, and lowered himself to his stomach on the bed. Propped up on his elbows, there were only a few inches separating him from the only thing he wanted.

Thank god for sleep shorts.

In the back of his mind, he was already adding buying you something less revealing to his list of things to do, not wanting anyone to see you but him. But that could wait.

Taking off his mask and placing it on the floor beside your bed, he bit his tongue and gently hooked his fingers underneath your sleep shorts, pulling them to the side. All at once the breath left his lungs and he felt like his world was being tipped upside down. You didn’t wear any panties to bed.

Jason had to close his eyes for a moment in order to control his urge to wake you up and ravish you. When he opened them again, they flickered green and he zeroed in on what was making his mouth water.

Your pretty little pussy.

It was a miracle he’d gotten this far to be honest, but you didn’t seem to stir for anything. Thanking whatever force was allowing him this one pleasure, he moved closer to you and began taking what he wanted so desperately.

The moment his mouth met your pussy he nearly came in his pants.

Stopping for a second, he waited for any sign you were awake, his heart pounding in his ears. But you were still silent. Jason took this as his go ahead, but he had no intentions of stopping anyway.

He peppered kisses along your pussy, drunk on the softness of your skin and the taste of you on his lips. Everything in him was bursting with thrill, and he could barely stop himself from rutting against your bed to get some much needed friction. He wasn’t in his mind anymore, the only thing keeping him tethered to the planet was your sweet little cunt.

You began to breathe a little heavier in your sleep, your soft breathing quickly getting deeper. But Jason didn’t stop.

He couldn’t.

Not when you tasted so divine, not when your skin felt like heaven on his tounge. He moved to your clit now, his whole face practically pressed into your pussy. If he was gonna go out between your legs, it was a death he would gladly take.

He sucked on your clit, alternating between swirling his tounge around it in tight little circles and sloppily eating you out. It was getting harder and harder for Jason to control the level of noise he was making. His groans and low, rumbling growls began to fill the room. It was just you. Only you in his mind, his heart, and his soul.

Oh, fuck.

You were making these cute little noises now. Little breathy whimpers and whines were leaving your lips. With each sound that reached his ears, he felt a bit more of his control slipping.

He hadn’t even noticed he was fucking you with two fingers until you began to squirm. All at once he halted all his movement, waiting for his fun to end, but your eyes never opened. This would all just be a really good dream for you. He almost chuckled at the idea.

Certain you’d stay asleep, he buried his face in your pussy, eating you like a man starved. His fingers pumped in and out of your now slick cunt, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he tasted your sweetness on his tongue.

But it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

He needed to make you cum. He needed to be the one, the only one, bringing you pleasure. He wanted to feel your cum running down his face. He wanted to taste you on his tongue three days from now.

There was no point trying to contain himself anymore. He’d already jumped off the edge a long time ago. Jason pumped a third finger into you, allowing himself to grind his raging cock against your bed. The noises you were making were getting louder, and you were beginning to writhe in your sheets every time he slammed his fingers into you. He knew he’d have to be quick, but honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take.

Taking your clit in between his teeth, he grazed the sensitive skin just enough to have you even wetter for him. Jason was desperate. All his cares, all his worries had been replace by an unending, carnal urge for you.

Only you.

He pumped his fingers faster, driving them in and out while he ate you like a man possessed. Then, he got to experience what was easily the best thing that ever happened to him.

Without warning, your needy whimpers turned into one long, high pitched whine, and your sweetness burst into Jason’s mouth. He felt like he died all over again, cumming in his pants as he groaned into your pussy, shuddering. Never once did his fingers stop, only slowing to allow himself to lap up all of your juices.

The world was quiet for a moment as he stayed hooked on your cunt, his eyes closed in bliss.

But he couldn’t stay forever.

With an insane amount of difficulty, Jason placed one more kiss on your clit, and pulled your shorts back in place. His own underwear would be ruined, and he would definitely have to wash his pants, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

Once he was sure you’d stay asleep, he moved off the bed, coming to stand beside your now flushed face. Jason didn’t know what was worse, having to leave after tasting the best thing ever, or the fact that you’d only remember this as a dream.

Not wanting to think about anything but how full his heart felt, he leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your cheek.

“Sweet dreams, baby. You’re mine.” He whispered softly, as if you could hear him, and brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Taking one last glance at your pretty face, he turned and crept his way out of your apartment, leaving the way he came, through the window.

He made sure to close it.

It was clear to Jason that he should be feeling shame, remorse or disgust with himself for what he just did, but the only thing on his mind was how he wanted you awake for next time. And there would be a next time.

When you awoke that morning, and the haze of sleep cleared from your mind, your focus instantly went to the wetness between your thighs. You blushed as vague memories of a rather nice dream sprung to the forefront of your thoughts.

Shaking your head, you crawled out of bed, yawning, when your eyes caught on a slightly confusing sight.

“Didn’t I leave that open?”

[wonusite]

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

[fictionalstorybyme]

Jaxson is a young hot dude and he knows a bit about how some people, boys mostly are in awe of his self-proclaimed awesomeness. He was very confident from years earlier and now at age eighteen he had a new group to torture with his cunning seductive smile and friendly manner. But he always had an agenda. He scoped out the students at the beginning of classes. He would trot in everyday in outfits that were made his admirers droll. His slender body was tailor made for the classic look of jeans and sneakers. He was able to pick out the various fetishes of each of the many who adored him as he flirted easily with boys, girls and teachers. He could map out a plan to get them to fall in love with him and used that to dominate and control them as he pleased. He possessed an arrogance and knew how to show his displeasure with a single look. An example was Ryan…

He had this way of making you feel you were the only person in the room, the party, the world that counted to him. His ability to focus on you with 100% of his soul, that attention was crazy addictive. He created inside jokes that he could pass along a crowded with just his expressive eyes. It seemed every time you looked for him, he was already looking at you. Our eyes met and he winked and did a facial gesture or stick out his tongue and made me laugh. It seemed every time that I wanted to leave, he was by my side and asked me. “You wanna get something to eat (when I was hungry) or just go for a ride in his convertible. He had this sixth sense of what was going on inside my head. “Trouble with the big brother?” “Trouble with your mom?” “You can talk to me if you want, you know I’m always here. Quiet is good, too.” The thing is that he was always right. How he could tell if the situation was my big brother or my younger brother, he just read me like a book. It was really nice when i thought it was because he really cared. I had the house swept for spy shit, but nothing. He would have been the one, and i ain’t gay. But for him, I don’t know how it’d work, IF it’d work, but one thing was for sure. JAX KNEW ME KNOWS ME STILL to this VERY day. Jaxson knows me better than anybody and everybody combined.

He keeps saying it’s in my head and that, yeah he had other friends. We were in high school, after all and our job was making and being friends. TRUE! He swears to this day, I was the real deal in his mind. THE BFF. “But Ryan,” Jax said, “You know you’re not gay. I know you’re not gay. So, understand I had to have other friends. I never wanted to say this, because: If I had said, “I L❤️ VE YOU” and your mind would be be in turmoil. I knew we made a good friendship match. Maybe at the beginning I might have thought it’d be cool to have one of the premier guys that i’ve ever known and had the distinct honor and pleasure to know and be friends with convert to the other team. Girls attempt to change guys like me to be straight. Would I actually be your friend if I attempted that with you? I KNOW I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN HAPPY! Maybe for a the honeymoon period? That’s why it’s called the honeymoon period. It doesn’t last. If I had have said this earlier, Ryan, I’d never ever forgive myself. Ever! I really have always put your needs and wants ahead of mine. Always! I never wanted you to do anything just to please me and not please yourself. That’s what the people who get called that disgusting name. If loving me turned you into a fag, I’d sooner kill myself than permit that. I’m not that kind of guy who is selfish and wants to see if you’ll change teams to be with him.” “I get it, Jaxson. I really do. You are right. You never tried to convert me or suggest i experiment to be sure. But why didn’t you tell me that so i could shield myself from the eventual pain and suffering?”

“For the same reason you didn’t tell me you were certain you were straight, Ryan. I didn’t know for sure just like you didn’t know for sure.” Ryan nodded and agreed, allowing all the rage and anger to dissipate and desolve into the either. “ONE THING WE DID KNOW FOR SURE!” Jaxson said. “WE WERE THE PERFECT COMBINATION OF WHAT LIFETIME FRIENDSHIPS HAVE IN COMMON. OPPOSITES ATTRACT AND RESPECT. If I didn’t respect you Ryan, I’d try to have you in my bed every night with experimenting as the reason why. Thats why we go to college. To try new things. You admitted you had a crush on me.” “A HUGE CRUSH!” Ryan corrected. “You were infatuated with me. Is that a fair statement?” “Yes,” Ryan said. “Well, I too am a human being capable of having crushes and being infatuated with another.” Jaxson said. “I had a huger crush, so infatuated was I with you that i couldn’t eat for ten days, because my infatuation turned into love. You don’t try to change the one you love into something they are not! You are not gay! I know that because Ry, I wanted you so bad, but you never picked up a clue. Am i correct?” “One hundred percent!” Ryan answered. “So we’re just friends?”

[hannieehaee]

Moaning out another members name

18+ / mdi

moaning another member's name

content: established relationship, smut, penetrative sex implied, etc.

wc: 904

a/n: thank u for requesting sorry i took so long<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

even if it was a joke he'd be offended. the moment wonwoo's name left your mouth, he would jump off you and start scolding you for having another man's name running through your head for even one second. was he not everything you wished for in a man? you were supposed to be as obsessed with him as he was with you!! what is this? it'd take a very long apology from you for him to calm down and understand it was a joke.

jeonghan -

aw. kwannie? were you thinking about kwannie as jeonghan drilled into you? he knew you werent actually thinking of another man as he made your eyes roll back. you were just being a brat – clearly. but it'd be fine by him. he liked it when you were a bit of a brat anyway. it'd give him the more reason to play with you into the late hours of the night.

joshua -

would take it as a challenge. wouldnt even question it when he heard you moan seungcheol's name, assuming you were simply trying to rile him up. he would simply speed up his thrusts to teach you a lesson about whose name you should be moaning.

jun -

jihoon? what about him? did jun miss something, or why were you suddenly moaning out the wrong name? he'd be confused but push it aside and finish the two of you off. he'd ask you about it afterwards but would need a very long and detailed explanation as to how or why jihoon's name ended up leaving your mouth while he was inside you.

soonyoung -

okay, yeah. he also found minghao pretty cool, but did you have to bring him up now of all times? what did it even mean when your significant other moaned your best friend's name during sex? should he be worried? his worried expression and the halt of his movements would cause you to explain yourself immediately, not being able to stand the immense confusion in his face. he would sulk about it a bit, but all would be normal if you simply pampered him with extra affection.

wonwoo -

he wasnt particularly possessive or easy to anger, but something like this would kind of bug him. he would stop halfway through fucking you to question you about it. soonyoung? why were you even thinking of him right now? once you explained that it was either an accident or a joke, he would still feel kinda off about it, but would let it go and continue fucking you, now demanding for his name to leave your lips more and more.

jihoon -

he'd have to stop on his tracks as soon as the first syllable of seungcheol's name was uttered by you. he was literally fucking you into a delirious state just a moment ago. did you forget it was jihoon who was doing it and not seungcheol? this would bring out his possessive side, making him go even harder. afterwards, he would whine and pout at you about it, demanding you never even think of any other man ever again.

seokmin -

would halt immediately, pout glued to his face as he questioned why mingyu's name left your mouth just as your seokminnie was giving you all of him in such an intimate moment. you'd have to spend the rest of the night reassuring him that it was simply a joke to see his reaction, that mingyu was nowhere near your mind in moments like this.

mingyu -

he'd start whining at you, automatically realizing that you were simply just trying to rile him up. would complain as to why you'd bring up jeonghan now of all times. he'd punish you by restricting sex the rest of the night, sulking at the thought of you having another man in mind for even one moment.

minghao -

you'd be punished immediately. he'd know you were just being a brat trying to get a reaction out of him, so he would act accordingly by scolding and punishing you. would berate you for daring to moan another man's name in such an intimate circumstance, specially his younger brother vernon's.

seungkwan -

chan? as in lee chan??? why were you thinking about him when seungkwan was giving you his best performance? was seungkwan not the absolute love of your life? had this not been mutual this whole time? too many questions would be cruising through his head as an expression of disgust landed on his face. would take a long conversation for him to understand you didnt mean it.

vernon -

it'd take him a moment to process what you'd just said. you had a tendency to moan unintelligible things as he fucked you, but he was pretty sure you had just moaned joshua's name. but why? he'd be mostly confused rather than mad or offended. would finish the two of you off before asking you. would not be mad but also wouldnt find anything particularly funny about the situation.

chan -

seokmin was his older brother, so chan was 100% sure neither you nor him would ever do anything suspicious behind his back. he would be confused but decide to keep fucking you regardless. nut comes first, questions after. when you were both done, he would berate you about it, growing frustrated at you the moment you explained it was a joke. he'd be annoyed at how he managed to be teased by people even during sex.

[trailingoff]

Aziraphale’s religious trauma

I’m sure others have discussed this in a lot of depth, but I can’t help throwing my hat in the ring. Aziraphale has major religious trauma after spending his entire very long existence as a member of a cult. If you’ve never experienced what it’s like to be indoctrinated into a religion, then it might be very hard to understand why he behaves the way he does, so I’ll try to lay it out for you.

Anyone who was raised from early childhood to believe that an all-powerful being is watching them as though they’re in a panopticon (a jail where prisoners are watched by authorities at random moments) and will severely punish them and/or their loved ones if anyone steps out of line (or just on a whim or based on a bet with Satan) either has experienced religious trauma or has somehow avoided it, perhaps through repression or retreating into themselves and managing to ignore what the adults were telling them. Another way to avoid the trauma is to continue to believe that the cult is ‘good’ and that those outside it are ‘bad’ and should seek redemption, forgiveness and salvation.

Not only does Aziraphale have this trauma, but it’s also based on reality in the GO universe. I was able to live with mine by realising that there is no empirical evidence for religious beliefs, by studying philosophy, by having therapy, and by reflecting on it for years. The trauma can still be triggered in me, leading to panic that God might be watching and judging me, and that an afterlife might exist, but luckily I’m now able to move through the panic relatively quickly. Aziraphale can’t do any of this because the beliefs of his cult are all too real. There really is a massively powerful (hopefully not all-powerful, but he believes she is) being who watches and judges him and everyone else at random moments. She has either directly ordered her angels to slaughter babies and children or has stood by and watched them do it. She has severely punished someone Aziraphale cares about, Crowley, who from that moment has been in a situation where he continues to be tortured by his fellow demons with no intervention from God and who simultaneously risks being destroyed by demons, by angels, by humans wielding sacred weapons (e.g. holy water) or by his own hand.

And so Aziraphale suffers from both religious trauma and the trauma of living under a real authoritarian dictatorship. This dictatorship is seemingly unbeatable and eternal, and it possesses weapons more powerful than the biggest nuclear weapons, more powerful than the sun, really more powerful than anything we humans can imagine.

Thousands of years ago, Crowley was kicked out in an extremely painful way, and he suffers his own trauma from that. He clearly doesn’t want Aziraphale to go through all of that, yet he wants Aziraphale to join him on ‘their own side’. At the end of the previous season, I thought Aziraphale was all in. I was happy to leave it at that ... even though it isn’t a realistic depiction of someone dealing with the particular types of trauma that Aziraphale has experienced and continues to experience.

Aziraphale and Crowley are still in constant grave danger, and they’re still living in God’s panopticon. That can’t just be hand-waved away. As we’ve seen this season, at any moment their fragile peace can be disrupted by a situation that puts them in danger of being harmed to the extent of being wiped from existence. They can’t actually just go to Alpha Centauri and it will all be cool. (And what would they do there for eternity anyway ...?) But yeah there is no way to escape from God, nowhere in the universe that God isn’t capable of supervising -- that’s real, not something Aziraphale merely has faith in, as humans understand belief in God. Aziraphale isn’t the equivalent of a human priest or a theologian or a cult member: he is a supernatural being created by a much more powerful supernatural being.

Perhaps there are only two ways for Aziraphale to deal with his trauma: 1) He realises that God and the Heavenly Host can be defeated. 2) He realises that they can be permanently altered in a positive way. 

At the end of season two, Aziraphale seems to believe he is being given the opportunity to bring about option 2. We don’t know if he has a plan or a vision for this, but for the first time he thinks he has a chance. Perhaps best of all, he has the opportunity to protect Crowley -- permanently! Imagine how anxious Aziraphale must have been, for thousands of years, that Crowley would be destroyed. It could have happened at any time, near or far from Aziraphale. Crowley faces dangers on all sides and also does foolish (from Aziraphale’s perspective) things like good deeds under the influence of laudanum and a heist so he can handle holy water. Crowley breaks and bends rules in ways that could kill him: Aziraphale isn’t catastrophising. This isn’t the same as a religious loved one telling you that you’re going to hell for sinning. Crowley has already been tortured in hell, and he could be tortured there forever, or he could be turned into an oily black puddle, or removed from the book of life etc etc. 

What Aziraphale doesn’t understand yet is that Crowley can’t be an angel again and still be the Crowley that Aziraphale loves. He also doesn’t see Crowley as an equal. If they’re going to take on heaven and bring down God’s dictatorship, they are going to have to do it as Aziraphale and Crowley, working in partnership, wielding the immense power of their love.

[idyllic-affections]

achilles heel.

summary. the ninth harbinger takes on an... unexpected responsibility.

trigger & content warnings. references to poverty, [name] is a thief (at first), slightly ooc pantalone in some parts.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort. pantalone & child/young teen!reader, arlecchino & child/young teen!reader. 3.4k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections.

author's thoughts. inspired by a silly conversation @aroacenezha and i had. i dad-ify this man a little too much but you know what? i will keep doing it idc he's so dad-able. this post is structured differently than my usual content but i think it's kind of cool!!!

i. an unexpected guest ♡

       Of all the possible unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his Snezhnaya residence—one of them, at least; the amount of properties he owned was certainly more than what one could count on both hands—this was... most definitely among one of the more shocking.

       He was speechless, really.

       "Please do humor me. How did you manage to get in?"

       Of all the unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his his home, in his office of all places... thievery in and of itself wasn't unexpected; rather, it was the fact that standing in front of him was undoubtedly a child no older than fourteen. Not only that, but additionally the fact that they were actually standing in his office. They had not been caught. A child, no older than fourteen, possessed more skill than all of the others in the past who had made poor attempts to steal from him.

       "You need better security"—they shrugged, making him somewhat annoyed at their nonchalance—"I really thought it would be hard to rob the richest man on Teyvat. It was harder to rob Lady Ningguang. I actually had to abandon that job, you know? Couldn't get to the Jade Chamber."

       Again, he was left absolutely speechless.

       Being compared to Ningguang made a bitter taste settle in his mouth. He made a mental note to drastically improve the quality of his security.

       "You..."

       "What? It's not my fault all of your agents are incompetent."

       They weren't wrong, he supposed. His agents surely could do better at their jobs. Their smugness still irritated him, though. "Do you routinely rob the wealthy?"

       They scoffed. "You all are hoarding wealth that should never have been yours in the first place. Archons forbid I steal from wicked people who couldn't possibly care less about anyone but themselves... Get over yourself. Seriously."

       He genuinely couldn't tell if they had no sense of danger or if they simply had that sheer amount of audacity by nature. Though, admittedly, he did have to respect the fact that they managed to sneak in completely undetected. If not for his sudden appearance, they most likely would have gotten away with it. Their audacity did irk him a little, but... that was also something he had to respect. It was impressive in its own right. No average Snezhnayan child would so much as dream of talking to a Harbinger the way they did oh-so effortlessly

       It did occur to him, however, that they did not look well-off; they were not the average Snezhnayan child.

       Their hair looked as if it had been haphazardly and unevenly chopped off so that it was too short to become tangled (he did recall doing such a thing himself—at the lowest point in his life, taking care of his hair was a useless endeavor, solely because it did not help better his chances of survival). They were clothed decently enough in layers adequately thick to keep themselves from freezing which, indeed, was also something he understood on a nauseously personal level.

       Most of the mora he managed to earn in his unfortunate youth was invested in... not freezing to death. Through them, he was forced to once again acknowledge his past, a past he endeavored to forget about because it made him feel pathetic.

       ...Or maybe it made him feel like an impostor in his wealth?

       What kind of sick twist of fate had the Archons cursed him with, forcing him to think about such trivial things?

       He should punish them. He should arrest them. He should send them off to Dottore and never spare them another thought ever again, even, but... somehow, he didn't want to. Much as he may have acted as if he couldn't possibly know why, he did.

       The brat reminded him sickeningly of himself.

       "Where do you think you're going?"

       They were half out of his window when he called out to them, having taken advantage of his pondering.

       "To sell what I've taken?"

       He almost rolled his eyes. Almost, but didn't. That would have been immature and inelegant of him. "Come here."

       They would have just left, but truthfully, it would not have been a smart move on their behalf. The only reason they had not yet been caught and apprehended was simply because no-one had spotted them in the first place. Not a single one of their 'victims' had managed to catch a glimpse of them. Now that a Harbinger had seen them...

       They figured it was in their best interests to avoid being pursued by anyone with that much power, especially by someone like Pantalone. A man with that much political influence was dangerous.

       "Show me what it is that you've taken."

       They did.

       A letter opener, a few picture frames... Nothing significant or extremely expensive (though, to them, anything at all from his office would likely be of high value), which is what left Pantalone completely perplexed. He honestly hadn't even noticed that anything was missing from his office when he had first entered.

       Perhaps that was what made them so skilled, combined with their capacity to avoid being seen.

       "Out of everything you could have taken," he mused, "you chose... these inconsequential items?"

       "They're inconsequential to you, maybe. To me and to my buyers, things like this are worth a ton. Whether I'll actually be given what is owed is... uh. More or less likely. I don't know, I just— can I leave yet?"

       "Not so fast, dear." He smiled, tilting his head slightly. They thought he somewhat resembled a fox.

       "...What? Are you seriously going to arrest me for something so little?"

       "Nothing of the sort. In fact... I have a proposal of sorts for you."

ii. the proposal in question. ♡

       "You know, when someone says something ominous like 'I have a proposal for you'," they began, twirling a defiant strand of their now neat hair—which the Harbinger had... shockingly, taken upon himself to cut properly rather than paying someone else to do it—around their finger, "they generally don't mean... all this."

       "Don't be difficult." He pinched their cheek like a scolding (or affectionate, but the nature of his gesture was debatable, given the fact that he tended to hide his thoughts behind a skilled mask of eerie calmness that they could only imagine took years to perfect) grandparent might. "Let the tailor take your measurements."

       "Ugh... fine. I don't even see why I'm doing this," they murmured, gingerly raising their arms when the tailor politely prompted them to.

       "Oh? Did I not say? My apologies. I intend for you to become a permanent resident of my household."

       Silence.

       "...So you're adopting me."

       "That is one way to look at it, yes."

       "Oh. I was... um." They paused, blinking a few times as if in an attempt to dispel the bewilderment they felt. "I was kidding. I didn't expect that response."

       He only smiled.

       They wondered if they would ever learn to understand that ambiguous smile.

iii. another unexpected guest ♡

       Between teaching the newest member of his house noble etiquette, conversational skills, and other important skills they would need to master, Pantalone had grown unexpectedly fond of the little orphan he took in.

       He should have been annoyed by how often they questioned his authority, by how unruly they were...

       Of course, he wasn't. It was endearing and even refreshing in its own way—when was the last time anyone had dared to speak so freely and honestly and daringly to him? The respect rooted in fear that his status as a Harbinger gave him became dull after a while.

       It really shouldn't have surprised him that he had become so fond of the little one who did not fear speaking in the most unfiltered way to him.

       However... he did wonder if his fondness was causing him to spoil them just a little too much.

       "...What is that?"

       They grinned brightly. In their arms, a small arctic fox sat contentedly, strangely unbothered by the fact that a random child decided to pick it up and bring it home. It seemed to snuggle further into them and their warmth, in fact.

       "It's an arctic fox!"

       "My dear, that is a wild animal."

       "And?"

       Silence. Pantalone was the first to break it:

       "I have the ability to acquire any animal you so desire of only the highest pedigree," he began, "the best available on the market—of course, assuming it could survive in an extreme climate such as this one—and yet, you chose to bring home a little street fox?"

       They pouted, lower lip jutting out in an exceedingly childish way that he would have chided them for had it not just been himself, them, and the various Fatui guards stationed around (who all knew far better than to say anything about whatever they saw or heard within their Lord's residence) present. "Don't be mean. I came from the street too, you know... look at her! Look at this little creature! Say hi."

       If it had been anyone else demanding such childish things of him, he would be appalled... but he supposed since it was them, he could tolerate it. He leaned down slightly.

       "Hello."

       Much to his apparent surprise, the fox barked back at him, to which they giggled.

       "Soo, can I keep her?"

       The silence returned for a brief second. Then, the Harbinger sighed deeply—it was undoubtedly comparable to the kind of sigh an exasperated parent might let out. As if he wasn't already going grey enough without this child around...

       He caved to their whims regardless.

       He was encouraging a bad habit, yes, but they looked so happy with that little fox. He could only hope that, in the future, they would not bring home any other wild animals.

       "Very well, but I expect you to learn how to take care of her properly, otherwise I will be forced to let her go."

iv. old habits die hard.

       The first event they ever had to attend with the Regrator was an annual event hosted by the Tsaritsa herself.

       Much as they weren't exactly... keen on going, Pantalone insisted—he had claimed it was for publicity's sake. The public would favor him more if he was seen as the caretaker of a child. They supposed they couldn't really argue with that, but the thought of being used as a device to build public rapport was uncomfortable at best and nauseating at worst.

       (He was very adamant on reassuring them that he didn't take them in solely for such a shallow reason. Though... he still did not tell them why exactly it was that he chose to take them in, which admittedly did make them doubt the sincerity of his words.

       They decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, given how kind he tended to be with them.)

       They absolutely hated being surrounded by so many pompous rich people who only ever turned a blind eye to the struggling of every low-income family in Snezhnaya. How these people could live with themselves, hoarding the majority of the wealth of an entire nation, they would never know nor understand.

       (What made Pantalone any different, they sometimes wondered?)

       However...

       They were all viable targets, even including the other Harbingers present.

       Columbina... there was nothing they could steal off of her without getting caught, and the idea of making a scene, especially one involving the third Harbinger herself, made their stomach churn anxiously. She was not an option.

       Dottore... stealing off of him was unwise. They wondered if Pantalone would lose favor in them if they did. The Doctor, like the Damselette, was not an option, despite the many things they could take off his person without him ever knowing that something was missing (probably; they weren't truly sure if they'd like to test that theory).

       Arlecchino... her silver hairclip was awfully pretty. Surely she wouldn't miss it? She didn't like the Regrator much anyways, so—

       "Dear."

       "Oh. Um." They cleared their throat, embarrassedly looking anywhere but at him. They tried their best not to pick at the threads of their sleeves. "Sorry. Force of habit."

       He hummed, gloved hand raising up to rub reassuring circles on their back. The bubbling anxiety and discomfort in their chest subsided slightly.

       "Come along. There is nothing to be afraid of, and please... do not take anything off of anyone. Leave the Knave and the other Harbingers be."

       Of course, upon passing Arlecchino, they did end up stealing her hairclip regardless.

       Though annoyed, she said nothing of it, because even though their audacity to steal something from a Harbinger at an event such as that one agitated her beyond belief...

       It seemed to make them happy, and she didn't see them take anything from anyone else the entire night. She decided that she would let it slide just this one time.

       (She also took it upon herself to secure it in their hair—which had grown longer and healthier ever since the Ninth took them in—after the event, claiming that it was a gift from her...

       ...And that, if they knew what was good for them, they would not dare to pull another foolish stunt like that ever again.)

v. achilles heel.

       "What is it that plagues your mind?"

       "Huh?" They blinked, sitting up a little straighter in their place on one of the soft sofas in the Ninth's personal library. Most of their time was spent in there, absorbing all the knowledge that they didn't have access to earlier on in their life. "What do you mean?"

       "You've been withdrawn lately," Pantalone said, approaching them slowly as if they were some kind of skittish animal. He tenderly caressed their cheek upon seeing no signs of discomfort. "Have I done something to drive you away?"

       "...No," they admitted quietly, looking outside of the large window and watching the snow fall. It looked... peaceful, but they knew from experience what it was really like out there. They gnawed on their lower lip, searching for a way to word their concerns without sounding ungrateful. "I just... ugh, it's nothing. I don't know. I don't know how to say it without it sounding... bad."

       He raised an eyebrow. His hand moved away from their face, now stroking their hair calmingly. "You speak to me so freely all the time. Why the sudden change of heart, hm?"

       He did have a point there. They never once thought twice about the way they spoke to him up until that point.

       A sigh left their lips, and they shifted their gaze to meet his.

       The way their eyes glistened with the sheen of unshed, frustrated tears made Pantalone feel a sort of fatherly protectiveness that he wasn't sure he should have been able to feel, and yet... their expression flipped some kind of switch in him.

       "Why did you take me in?"

       "I—"

       "Wait, I'm not done," they interrupted. He went quiet. "What benefit do I provide to you? What kind of rich guy sees a random orphaned thief and decides to take them in? Who does that? No rich person I've met before you, that's for sure. People like you don't care about those of us barely scraping by in poor conditions, so why—"

       If it were anyone else Pantalone was speaking to, his tone would have been harsh and commanding, but... that was how it always had been with them. They could get away with things that others could not. They were always shown a side of him that others were not. Perhaps that made them the Regrator's one single Achilles heel, and if that were the case? So be it.

       "Stop. Listen."

       His tone came out very gently. It was more akin to a comforting hush than a demand. He kneeled down to their height—never once had they seen him voluntarily get so close to the ground. Most nobles didn't, and yet, here he was. With his ungloved knuckles, he wiped away the tears that they hadn't even noticed were beginning to fall.

       "I was you once, little one."

       "I don't believe you," they sniffled.

       "You should. I was not born into this life. My bloodline is not noble and my birth name holds no significance," he mused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind their ear. "I also used to steal from people, you know."

       Their hair fell over their shoulders, to which they quickly raised a hand to the back of their head. The clip—once belonging to Arlecchino—was gone, now settled in their caretaker's open palm.

       "H— huh?!"

       "Admittedly, I haven't done so in quite some time, so what you saw just then was moreso the skills I've learned as a Harbinger than my thievery skills."

       He kindly secured their hair back once again.

       "Ah... I never would have guessed."

       "That is the point." He nodded, going on to tease: "You do very much remind me of the younger version of myself... you have quite the awful amount of attitude, though. I was never so difficult."

       They huffed, patting their face dry with their palms, to which he chuckled.

       "Hmph, I doubt that. I'll bet you were worse than I am."

       "Whatever you say, dearest."

       He was, but he had no plans of telling them that, of course.

vi. enrollment.

       "My orphans seem to like you, [Name]."

       They smiled up at Arlecchino from their place on the ground, one of the much younger children sleeping against their thigh. Their hand absently toyed with the child's hair in a manner that seemed akin to that of a loving older sibling. "I like to think they do. They're lucky, then, because I happen to quite like them, too!"

       The ghost of a smile graced her lips at that.

       "You know," she mused calmly, placing a firm hand on their head. They squeaked slightly at the force behind her display of affection. "You are publicly viewed as the Regrator's child."

       "What?!" they gasped, a mix between shocked and embarrassed. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but... "Wait, people are saying that? Actually?"

       "They are," she confirmed, "but I mention this for one very particular reason: do you know how to defend yourself, [Name]?"

       "Somewhat, but not entirely," they admitted. "I learned a lot in my time... um, wandering, shall we call it..? Anyway. I can defend myself, but not really well. Not at all well enough for the place I've found myself in, I think."

       She nodded in understanding at that.

       "Have you considered enrolling in the House of Hearth?"

       "I've thought about it. Would I even qualify, though..? I'm technically not an orphan..."

       "No, but consider it a favor from me. You would get an education of equal rigor to Snezhnayan private schools, as well as learning how to protect yourself."

       "...You would do that for me, Arle?"

       Her cheeks tinted red at that, and she groaned, lightly pushing them away by the head. They giggled at her annoyance.

       "Don't call me that"—she coughed into her fist, trying her best to mask the good-natured embarrassment such a nickname caused her—"but... I would. You need to learn how to handle yourself."

       She then got on one knee, meeting their gaze with intensity that made them a bit nervous. Both her hands sat firmly on their shoulders.

       "What you need to understand, however, is that you will automatically be drafted into the Fatui at your graduation. I do not believe that the Regrator would let you out of his sight at your young age, so you needn't worry about being separated from him, but... you will be exposed to wicked things."

       "...But I need to do this for my safety, right?"

       "You don't 'need' to do anything," she clarified. "I would advise it, though. You are an annoying little brat, but I—as well as the Ninth—would loathe to see anything happen to you."

       "Well... I don't mind enrolling."

       "Oh?"

       "I really don't mind," they repeated, offering her a pensive smile. "I've already seen pretty rough things, and, I mean... I know what you all do for a living. I'm not oblivious, Arlecchino. Any kid born and raised in Snezhnaya would know."

       "I didn't think so," she assured. "No, I never once believed you to be oblivious... that much, I agree with. Childhood innocence does not thrive in this nation."

       "You're right. It doesn't."

       A comfortable silence settled for a moment. Arlecchino's battle-hardened hands were a calming force upon their shoulders.

       "...Soo, how exactly are we planning on convincing Pantalone to let this happen?"

       "Ah." She went quiet. "...That is the question."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! taglist: @m1shapanda, @kaichuuu, @zeldadou, @aroacenezha (aka the beloved moot who inspired this fic. say "thank you maji" everyone 🫶🫶🫶🫶 /hj /lh)

[llonelygoddess]

How they react to...you getting injured

A/N: I hope this doesn't sound redundant but here ya go :)

Romantic Pairings: Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Sansa Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy, Khal Drogo, Brienne of Tarth, Missandei

Ned Stark: If you got injured it would most likely be from falling off your horse during a casual ride. As the doting husband he is he would be rushing to your side and calling maesters to check on you. With only a small bruise to show for you try to get back on the horse but Ned doesn't allow it. He doesn't mean to control you, he only wants to keep you safe from any more serious injuries that won't heal as easy as a bruise.

Robb Stark: With Robb, he normally has guards with you at all times because he worries for your safety. When one of them turns out to be a spy with intent to hurt you, Robb is livid. You were pushed and left with a few bruises but all he sees is red. Robb sentences the man to die and takes his head for it. He spends the rest of the day with you in bed, feeling guilty while he looks at your injuries. You'll definitely want to console him cause he will cry, especially thinking of what COULD have happened to you.

Jon Snow: He truly believes in your ability to take care of yourself, but when you get hurt during a fight he rushes to your side without second thought. You'll both have to fight your way out of the conflict but once you're safe he checks on your wounds. He asks for a maester to check them out to keep out infection and feels a little useless not being able to do anything himself. Jon makes it a point to joke about it to take away the serious energy going on and promises to always have your back.

Sansa Stark: Girly is straight up crying. Doesn't matter if it was just a little accident or you were roughed up by some thugs, younger Sansa is a crier. When she finds you she's holding onto you with strength you didn't know she had. Unlike older Sansa who would be ready to pass someone's death sentence, younger Sansa only cares about you feeling better. She does her best to make you a prayer wheel like her mother does for her.

Margaery Tyrell: She'd be a lot more calm than you'd think, at least around others. Once she sees you lying in bed with your leg elevated, she's questioning the hell out of you. What happened? Who was it? Do you need anything? Milk of the Poppy? It's almost entertaining to see how much she worries in contrast to her usual cool attitude. After you assure her that you're alright she's cuddling up in bed with you, probably to read something to you.

Theon Greyjoy: Pre!Reek Theon would instantly be at arms and ready to fight whoever touched you. He's possessive and the thought of ANYONE touching you pisses him off but especially if they meant to harm you. He wouldn't know how to express his worry for you so he'd just angrily stand by you as you recover. Post!Reek Theon is deeply insecure and guilty about you getting hurt. He still wants to fight whoever hurt you but he's more concerned with making sure you're okay.

Khal Drogo: *Activate instant death mode* I mean we saw what happened when Daenerys almost got poisoned, think about actually getting poisoned. Having to lay in bed for days while Drogo goes out in search for whoever did this to you. It doesn't matter why they did it or if you die or not, all that matters to him is giving them the most painful death possible. When he's done, he sits at your bedside knowing you are strong and capable of overcoming this.

Brienne of Tarth: It was only a training accident but your messed up ankle reminded Brienne how fragile you were. She was born and raised to endure the pain that came with being a knight/fighting, but you never asked for it. She'll feel upset at herself for not teaching you properly and it'll come off as anger towards you. Truly she doesn't mean it but if being hard on you will keep you safe next time then she knows what she has to do.

Missandei: Tearsss. She's crying before she even knows what happened to you. Stays by your bedside as you heal from a battle wound and takes responsibility for changing your dressings and cleaning the injury. Missandei knows that this is the life you've chosen to live, but sometimes she wishes she could take you away to her homeland safe from any harm.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Hey! I saw your oneshot requests post on AO3. I hope I'm not I'd love to make a request, hope I'm not too late! Could you please write a oneshot with Alastor catching the reader masturbating and give him a breeding kink? It's cool if you're not into it though and would only prefer to write Alastor catching the reader before having sex, lol. *gives you a massive smooch on the forehead* thank you smm

did I go a little crazy with this? maybe. I had fun though, that's what matters! I struggled a little with the breeding kink part but I hope you still like it, anon! <3

Tags: vaginal sex, possessive sex, masturbation, biting, a bit of scratching (I like Al's claws what can I say)

2.4k words

<3<3<3<3<3

Another shitty day in Hell, you think to yourself, coming home from the shit job you held at the news station. You’d think Katie Killjoy could get her own fucking coffee and fetch her own scripts from the producers but no- she needed you to do it so she could spew shit down your throat when her day wasn’t perfect. Which, you know, it was Hell- every day was shit.

You collapse back onto your bed, limbs tense and head pounding. Katie just never shut the fuck up and her shrill voice sounded like a dentist drill in your head. You’d kill a man to be able to relax- it wouldn’t be the worst thing you had done in Hell. But it had been a long time since you had done anything like that; not since Alastor had disappeared. 

Alastor. Even now, thinking his name brings a pulsing heat to your core. 

In hindsight, of course, trading your soul to the Radio Demon for your boyfriend’s to be free had been stupid. So, so stupid, and you realized it as soon as the bastard had broken up with you to fuck off to another area of Pentagram City. Leaving you and your soul in the clutches of one of the most dangerous Overlords that Hell had ever seen. Your job was simple at least- you spent time with Alastor in Cannibal Town almost as an assistant for a while, managing his schedule (when he could be bothered to follow it), checking in on other souls he owned (when he cared enough to check on them), and just generally being at his beck and call.

You were perhaps the tiniest bit infatuated with him at the time. You did whatever he asked of you- his tasks and errands, his housework, the organization of his radio studio when he got too into ripping someone apart. It wasn’t long until he was asking you to assist him with the deed, pushing a blade of angelic steel into your hands and guiding you towards a rapidly beating heart. 

The way he had said “good girl” that day lived inside your head, would twist wickedly around your thoughts when you were trying to focus on anything. 

It did now as well, and despite the fact that you hadn’t seen the demon in seven years- having just up and vanished one day- it still held the same power. Your heart raced, cheeks flushed, and you could feel yourself growing damp between your legs at the thought. You didn’t allow yourself to indulge in the memories often, but today felt like an especially shitty one. You think you could be forgiven thinking inappropriately about your old boss long enough to get a quick orgasm in before passing out for the day. 

With a quick glance to the window, just to make sure the curtains were drawn, you slide your fingers under the band of your panties and run your fingers through the slickness that you find, gently circling a finger over your clit and huffing out an exhale at the sensation. Thinking of Alastor never failed to make you a mess, pleasure curling in your brain and your gut. It was a wonder you had managed to work for him so long without trying to make a move but he had always seemed so uninterested in anyone else when they tried. You wouldn’t imagine that you were special enough to change his stance on that, but your imagination wasn’t hurting anyone.

You shift on the bed, raising your hips up far enough to slide your bottoms off and shove them to the side. You freeze when you hear something that sounds like a creaking door, but brush it off as something from a lower floor, bringing your other hand under the covers. 

One rubbing lightly at your clit you let your other hand reach further, slipping first one finger and then a second into the wet warmth of your pussy. You whimper and close your eyes, wishing that your fingers were longer, wishing someone else was at the other end of them and causing the stretch.

“Good girl.”Alastor’s voice slithers like a tendril through your mind, and you can’t help the groan that tumbles from your lips in the darkness of the night. “Alastor,” you breathe out, indulging yourself, the sound barely audible. It’s going to be over too quickly but you’re too wound up to care, the thought of the Radio Demon alone threatening to send you hurtling over that edge.

“Yes, darling?”

You yelp at the shock of his voice, not just in your head but echoing in the room. Eyes flying open, impending orgasm fading, you see his eyes glowing in the darkness of a corner, his grin coming into view as he steps into the faint light of your bedside lamp. “A-Alastor. What are you doing here?” 

He had been gone for seven years. What were the chances he would show up here? Now? 

“Can an Overlord not simply pop into the home of a soul in their possession when they choose?” He steps closer, head cocked to one side as he looks at you, and you realize that your hands are still fucking touching yourself and you rip them out from under the blanket. “I must say, this is quite the welcome home.”

“I- I didn’t-” He crouches at the end of the bed and your brain stops working for a moment. “I obviously wasn’t expecting you-”

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound quite like the truth! You said my name, did you not?” When you falter his grin widens, reaching a hand out and snatching the blanket away, exposing your bare skin to the room. “My my, what do we have here?”

“Oh god- Alastor, I’m so sorry,” you say, and try to scramble up the bed away from him before he wraps a hand around your ankle and yanks you back down. Your heart is pounding, threatening to beat straight out of your chest with the look that he’s giving you.

He gives a hum of acknowledgment. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he murmurs, trailing his fingers up your leg to settle on your thigh. “Except, perhaps, starting without me. Do tell, did you miss me terribly while I was gone?”

You open your mouth to speak and all that can escape is a choked out moan when he slicks his fingers through the wetness he finds between your thighs. “That’s not quite an answer but I suppose it can be forgiven.” Miraculously blunt, he presses a digit into you, followed quickly by another as he shifts so he’s crouched above you, face a mere breath away from yours. 

“A- Alastor, fuck,” you manage to gasp out. “Where have you been?” It should be the farthest thing from your mind when he’s got those dexterous fingers inside you, stretching and preparing you for something more if the bulge in his trousers is anything to go by.

Alastor shrugs, “oh you know, just here and there. Doing a bit of this and that.” Eyes lidded he takes in your form beneath him. “Nothing quite so interesting as what I’ve stumbled onto here.” His free hand fumbles with his belt buckle, the clinking of metal drawing your eyes to his exposed erection in his fist. “Won’t you show me how you’ve missed me?”

In answer you lift a leg to wrap around his waist, delighting in his dark chuckle and throwing your head back with a groan when he growls “good girl” against your throat. 

He lines himself up with your heat and pushes in slowly, giving you time to adjust; once he’s reached the hilt he braces his hands on your headboard and pulls back, slamming back forward with a vigor you’ve only ever seen from him in his studio. You cling to his back, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt in a desperate bid to get closer.

Alastor leans down far enough to lick into your mouth, sharp teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of your lips. You bite back in retaliation, perhaps a bit too hard in your eagerness and confusion at the situation- his lip splits and you taste the metallic tang. He pulls back for a moment, manic grin on his face in spite of the bead of blood welling on his mouth. He releases the headboard and shifts, one hand twisting up into your hair and dragging your head up to meet his. The other slides between your bodies, thumb grinding into your clit and the rest of his claws gripping your hips where he could reach them.

You had already been so close to orgasm by the time he turned up- the pressure on your clit and the feeling of him inside you, his hands gripping at your body and head while he kissed you and railed himself inside you. You tear your mouth away from his to gasp his name, winding a hand up into his locks as well and striking against something hard.

Your body is shaking with the attempt to hold back, trailing your fingers to the base of his antlers and giving a soft squeeze. 

He groans into your mouth, a broken sound. “Do you mean to make me spend myself already, darling?” He drops your head back onto the pillows, licks down the column of your throat while pulling your other leg up around his hip to press closer to you, deeper. “We’ve hardly begun! I thought you missed me- you’d wish it over so quickly?”

“God, Alastor,” you whimper, and his thumb increases its speed, pressing you into the mattress and digging his fingers into your skin. The release is so close, your legs tensed around the demon’s middle, fingers shaking where they grasp at him. “Fuck-”

“I’d prefer to take my time with you, but I suppose there’s nothing to be done for it if you’ve yearned for me so.” He redoubles his efforts, pounding into your tight heat while you moan and quake around him. A particularly hard thrust has him glancing off that sweet spot inside of you, and combined with his efforts on your clit you’re breaking, everything inside of you clenching and releasing in a rhythm that has him snarling into the skin of your neck.

“I can feel how much you missed me,” he hisses in your ear. “So responsive and greedy in how your body pulls me in- wishes for me to release myself within the grip of your body, to fill you with me.” Another hard thrust and you whine into his hair, grip still tight on his antlers. “Is that what you wish? To be filled? Marked as mine not just in soul but body?”

Your voice trembles out of you, “god, Alastor, yes.”

“There will be no part of you that I have not touched,” he growls, and post orgasm you gasp at the sensation of tightening around him involuntarily. “All of you will be mine- mine-”

Alastor reaches orgasm with a broken cry, clutching your body to his as tightly as he can while spilling inside of you, tensing walls seeming to be trying to pull him deeper despite being buried to the hilt already. He bites you in the moment, a push of teeth into the skin of your shoulder just under your shirt, sucking and running his tongue over the mark as he pulls back.

He leans back far enough for you to see his face again, crimson eyes lidded and smile dangerous. There’s blood on his lips, from where you had bit his and from sinking his fangs into you as he went over the precipice of pleasure. Finally he releases his grip on you.

You collapse back into the pillows, sated and exhausted, while Alastor stands from the bed and situates himself, dragging his thumb across the bite you had left on his lip and smearing the blood across the pad of the digit. He sucks it into his mouth with a crooked smirk. “Well, this was quite the enjoyable detour, darling!”

“Detour?” You sit up against the pillows again. “You’re not staying?”

“I’m afraid not- but don’t worry your pretty little head about it! Neither are you!” He snaps his fingers and your bottoms are back on your body, Alastor holding a hand out to you and hoisting you up from the mattress. He takes a moment to pat your head, smoothing down the stray hairs that had escaped your ponytail from your combined efforts before he bangs his cane on the ground.

“I am?” You look around your apartment. “But- I have a job? And my apartment, who will water my plants?”

“We’ll bring your plants with us! Do you truly care about such trivial matters when you’ll be with me?” A claw tipped finger under the chin, he makes you look up at him. “That’s what you’ve wanted all this time, yes? So help me with this little project I’m working on.”

The floor opens below you, Alastor throwing an arm around your shoulders as you shift into the shadows and reemerge in some kind of lobby.

“What the f-”

“Salutations, everyone! This is one of my associates- I’m happy to offer her services! Please feel free to use her as you see fit, Charlie- she’s quite eager to please.” 

“Oh my gosh, HI!” The Princess of Hell steps forward- you recognize her from her interview at the news station a week ago, Katie hadn’t stopped bitching for hours after that shitshow. She violently shakes your hand and arm before the shorter woman, her little one-eyed girlfriend, forcibly pulls her away from you. “I have SOOOOO many ideas for what you can help out with- do you have any experience with cooking? How about cleaning? Maybe Niffty could use some help-” Charlie reaches back and grabs your arm, dragging you away from Alastor who gives you a little wave before slinking back into the shadows.

You spot Husk behind the counter of a bar, Angel Dust of all people draped across it with his head dropped into his arms. The cat lifts an eyebrow at you, another one of Alastor’s souls apparently roped into helping with this ‘project,’ and raises his glass in acknowledgment. A healthy amount of fear and anticipation fills you- you would be working with Alastor again, which would be a nice change of pace from the news station. But when Katie found out her little assistant was going to working with the young woman who made a mockery of her live on television she was going to be pissed.

[screeching-bunny]

hello my pretty ligma <3

may I please order my Yandere! Jock? I was thinking if this scenario about their anniversary with reader basically picks him up from his place, brings a bouquet of tulips, and proceeds to take him to a candle light dinner. with them going to star gazing after! I really want to see his pov while all these happens. 🤭

please there is no pressure if you will not able to get it!!

thank you, pretty girl <3

Yandere! Jock Asks 1

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: Okay, first off 🗣️ LIGMA BALLS!!! Moving on now.

Yandere! Jock has been sulking for the entire day. Lately you’ve been so distant from him and he couldn’t figure out why. It seemed like you’ve been avoiding him and it didn’t help that today was your one year anniversary. When he tried to approach you to give you your gift, you would make an excuse to leave before he even got to hand them to you. Everytime he texted you to meet up with him, you would respond with a “I’m busy. I’ll talk to you later.” Just what was so important that you could ignore him and forget your guy’s anniversary!!!

He honestly was praying that it wasn’t a guy taking up your attention. He didn’t want to eliminate someone so soon again. After getting a text from you stating that he shouldn’t wait up for you because you’ll be going home before the school day is fully over. He was honestly so annoyed right now and decided to just go to practice to cool off before seeing you. His poor teammates were too scared to get near him. He was honestly so aggressive that one step near him could cause them to possibly go to the ER. They could only do nothing but pray that you would talk to him and cause his anger to disperse. One day without you by his side causes hell for them.

After that, he decided to just go straight to your house after school. Quickly going over there, he knocks frantically on your door only for it to be your dad. Who came over for a visit. When he asked about you, your father simply stated that you weren’t home and said that you hadn’t been back for awhile now. Your dad just figured that you were with Yandere! Jock this entire time.

Yandere! Jock seriously wanted to cry. Why would you lie to him and why have you been so secretive lately?! He honestly regrets not putting a tracker on your phone, he just wants to know where you are!! Feeling hopeless he decides to just go home and pretend to be dead on his bed. His thoughts are just constantly filled with you and each image of your face in his head makes his heart squeeze. This was honestly the worst anniversary ever. He didn’t even care if the two of you didn’t go anywhere, just being with you filled him up with so much joy. He really does miss you right now.

Just then, he got a text message from you which said “Look out your window.” With that, he rushed over and peered over only to see nothing? Quickly, another message was delivered, “The other one dummy.” Looking outside in his lawn he got to behold the sight of you. Excited, he quickly made his way out of his room and out towards you. Where he was then presented a bouquet of tulips. “You didn’t think I forgot our anniversary did you?” He felt so dumb and giddy right now, how could he have doubted you in the first place? With a kiss on the lip, the two of you hopped into your car and drove to your house.

Yandere! Jock was a little confused as to why you took him here in the first place. I mean couldn’t you just have just texted him to come over? He’d be there in a heartbeat. He didn’t mind this of course, he’d definitely enjoy a Netflix and chill situation. Entering your home and into your garden he was then greeted by the sight of a candle light dinner. He was just so touched and couldn’t believe what was happening! “I tried my best to cook us a meal. It might not taste the best but I hope you like it.” Are you kidding me! Even if you served him a block of cheese, he would treat it as if it were the most scrumptious meal he’d ever tasted.

Yandere! Jock gobbled and ate that shit up. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought he’d been starving for the past couple of days. The entire time he had a look of contentment and happiness on his face. He full heartedly and honestly believed that this was the best meal he had ever had in his entire life. “Don’t the stars look lovely tonight.” you ask as you look up at the sky. That night he couldn’t help but not take his eyes off of you. Although there were many bright stars that night, he believed that the brightest one shined right next to him. Without even looking at the sky he said lovingly,

“Yeah. Just look at them glow.”

Asks 2

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒜 𝐹𝒪𝒪𝐿 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸

info ⭑ geto suguru x reader ﾉ 2.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ ex-boyfriend geto ﾉ band au ﾉ hurt/comfort ﾉ a wee bit angsty ﾉ some suggestive bits ﾉ reader is tipsy ﾉ ambiguous ending

note ⭑ hi! after writing this, i really wanna continue something with this band au geto! not sure if that means i'll be making this into a series. . . perhaps an anthology? idk! lmk if you'd be interested :3 happy reading !

the streets of tokyo during the late hours of the day are restless—especially here in shibuya. you’d think the bustling crowds, fast pace, and your slightly tipsy state would make it difficult to recognize anyone but the universe seems keen to prove you wrong recently.

because standing at the corner of the street you’re supposed to be turning at is him—the man you haven’t seen in nearly five months and didn’t plan on seeing any time soon.

the sight of geto makes you stop–or more accurately, stumble–in your tracks. you can’t help the way your eyes widen and your mouth hangs open. it’s as if time slows for a couple of seconds in his distant presence. you can’t think straight and you aren’t sure if that’s because of him, too, or if you have the alcohol to blame for that.

regardless, when you finally regain cognitive function after what feels like an eternity, you’re able to tell yourself that you need to turn around and find another route home. unfortunately for you, the thought comes a second too late, geto spinning to face you just before you have the opportunity to turn on your heel. the brief moment of shared eye contact doesn’t stop you from trying to run for the hills, though you quietly curse yourself for getting caught in this predicament while you do so.

you hear the shout of your name from behind you, but you don’t dare come to a halt. your perseverance to escape is futile, made apparent by the newfound proximity of the familiar voice and the feel of fingers snaking around your wrist. you aren’t sure what possesses you to do so, but you quickly swing around to face the man hellbent on catching up to you. he seems just as surprised as you if the way his eyebrows shoot up is any evidence. 

“hey, wait—i come in peace.” geto raises his hands in mock surrender to show that he stands by his words.

you believe him. 

your fingers are cool as they brush against your forehead in an attempt to form a coherent sentence. there isn’t much you can think to say other than, “sorry, i just wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“i gathered as much.” geto nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. he knew this reunion–if it ever even happened–would be awkward, but the air between the two of you is so tense that he finds it a little hard to breathe. he clears his throat before continuing. “kind of looked like you were trying to avoid me though.”

“got me there,” you softly admit.

geto understands but he doesn’t relate. he’s been trying to get a hold of you since he landed back in japan last week and his efforts have been fruitless until now. running into you this way may have been a coincidence but geto doesn’t intend on squandering what just might be his one chance to tell you what has been nagging at his mind for the past few months. “look, i was hoping we could talk.”

the expression that paints your face upon hearing his request is apprehension. he can practically see the blinking red lights and hear the alarm bells going off in your head. and, as much as he hates to admit it, your worry makes sense. the last time he asked you to talk, he broke up with you.

“ten minutes—fifteen, max.” geto attempts to bargain. he hopes the limit on the time you have to spend with him will convince you to agree, to hear him out. it hurts, but after chewing on his cheek, he adds another condition that’ll work in your favor. “and after, if you don’t want to see me again, i’ll leave you alone for good.”

with as much effort as you’ve been putting into steering clear of geto since his return, you’d think his words would come as a comfort to you. they don’t, though. the feelings that surge within you at hearing them contradict your strict avoidance of geto up until this point. they make you confront the fact that you have wanted to see him and can’t stomach the thought of never seeing him again.

you’re taking a risk by doing so, but you nod.

“okay, let’s talk.”

the two of you end up at some park a little ways away from the city center—one where you can see the orangey-red leaves flutter through the air once they fall from the trees and watch the fountain in the pond shoot up water that rains back down. despite how pretty the scenery is, you can’t help but look at geto instead.

it’s been practically half a year since you last saw him. you’re sure he’s changed quite a bit since then but all you can focus on are the ways he’s stayed the same, the little parts of him that you missed while he was gone—like the dragon tattoo that snakes up his shoulder to his collarbone. seeing it floods your head with memories of when the two of you were together. mornings spent tracing the delicate lines with feathery touches, kissing up the ink and coloring the creature with love bites.

you almost flinch at the reminder. your plan wasn’t to revisit the past, at least, not those moments, but seeing the tattoo on display makes it almost impossible. it’s geto’s fault for wearing that stupid sleeveless hoodie. you drag your gaze up to meet the obsidian shards that are his eyes. “strange choice of attire for such a chilly night.”

he rubs his arm at your observation, a grin gracing his lips. “yeah, i didn’t plan on staying out for long.”

you know that you agreed to come with him, but even sitting on opposite sides of the same bench is proving to be overwhelming. so, instead of regarding his innocent statement as simply that, you view it as an out. “if you have somewhere you need to go or someone you’re supposed to meet, we can do this another time.”

“no way.” geto doesn’t let a beat of quiet pass before he speaks and shakes his head. “i finally caught you and i’m not letting you get away so easily.”

the confession stuns you to silence. there are a million thoughts bouncing off the walls of your skull right now–how this wasn’t a good idea, that you weren’t obligated to listen to what he wants to say–but the one that worms its way past the others and to the forefront is that his words are… romantic. it’s frustrating that you aren’t mad at him, especially when you’ve spent so long convincing yourself that you should be.

it seems as though the feelings you tried so hard to bury are beginning to resurface.

you clear your throat. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?”

“right,” geto starts, a hand coming up to scratch at his neck. his tongue pokes out from between his lips to poke at the metal hoops wrapped around them. they’re things he does when he’s nervous, like when he first asked you out on a date or when he’d tune his guitar while waiting to go on stage. you wonder what it is on his mind that has him so on edge. though, you aren’t sure if it’s your place to ask, to show concern like you used to, so you stay quiet.

“i guess i wanted to talk about how we left things,” he finally tells you.

you should have seen this coming, and maybe part of you–a part you were trying to ignore–did. there isn’t much more the two of you can discuss. there have been a lot of unspoken thoughts lingering on your mind since that night, ones that you never planned on letting see the light of day. you’ve gone so long sitting on your feelings; what’s the point in digging them up now?

“what more is there to talk about exactly?” you ask, crossing your arms—using them as a shield. “you broke up with me to go on tour and i told you that i understood—no hard feelings.”

geto is quiet across from you, but you can tell there’s something weighing on his mind, words on the tip of his tongue. a few moments of stillness pass before he spits it out. “i don’t think you mean that. not then and… not now.”

“what do you want me to say, suguru?” you toss your hands up in frustration. your voice has been low, controlled up until this point but rises with your question, with your growing irritation. does he want to humiliate you even more than he already has? your intention of continuing to sit on your feelings, to keep them hidden, is lost with the way words unknowingly spill past your lips. “that i was dumb for thinking that i was worth a little more effort to you? that i should have let go of you as easily as you did me?”

there’s a certain level of relief that comes with your words but they also open up a wound you’ve been trying your best to close. all the emotions you felt that night feel as raw as they did then, as though you’re reliving it all over again. 

the tears return, gathering at your lash line and threatening to fall but never rupturing the dam. the insecurity comes back, too. you can feel the ghost of a knife piercing your heart as you think about how it felt like he had chosen music over you. but who were you to ask him to reconsider—to think of you before his music, his dream?

tonight is turning out to be more than you can handle.

you’re about to stand, apologize for your outburst, and excuse yourself when geto speaks up.

“i didn’t let go of you—not really,” he quietly admits. his hand reaches up to his neck again, fingers twirling the loose hairs that happened to make it out of his bun. the action makes his words carry more truth and while you can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely, hearing them has an uncontrollable effect on you.

one of the tears you were adamant about not shedding until you were out of his sight rolls down your cheek. you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. “you don’t have to say that, it’s not going to make me feel any better.”

“i mean it, though, i do.” when you finally muster up the courage to meet his stare, his eyes tell you that what he said is the truth. his eyes have never lied. “i thought about you every day while i was on tour.”

the confession sends a pang to your heart. it clears up the fog of turmoil clouding your mind, although a haze of uncertainty lingers. does he mean that he missed you—the same way you’ve been hopelessly missing him?

you don’t have to aimlessly ponder, as geto continues.

“look, i asked you here because i wanted to tell you that i regret how i went about things. i thought about my choice–about you–a lot. and i realized a little too late that i owed us a chance. i was scared that we couldn’t handle long distance and that we’d both end up hurt but i never considered the possibility that it might have worked for us.”

geto unconsciously reaches for you, though when he realizes what he’s doing, he thinks better of it, letting his hand rest in his lap instead. just because he’s laying himself bare for you doesn’t mean the pain he’s caused has disappeared. besides, he still has one thing to say before you can even consider forgiving him.

his tongue glides across his lower lip, over the two silver hoops situated on either side. “i made a decision that both of us should have had a say in. i’m sorry.”

beyond the feelings of heartache and self-doubt, the thing you felt most that night was unheard—as if anything you could have thought to utter during that moment would have fallen on deaf ears. geto seems to have noticed that much, reflected on it and recognized his mistake. his apology, the acknowledgment of his fault, unchains the final weight that was tugging at your heart.  

you sniff and dab at the stray tears that have trickled down your face. “thanks for saying so. and… i forgive you.”

there’s a weight of his own that makes geto’s chest feel lighter upon hearing your words. from the minute he started rehearsing this conversation, he imagined that he’d damaged you to the point of being unworthy of your compassion, your forgiveness. this is more than he could have asked for, even if you still choose to take him up on his offer of leaving you alone for good.

“i’m glad,” geto nods, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips, though he doesn’t let the short moment of happiness overtake him. “i know that was probably a lot and if you need to take some time to decide how you want us to proceed, if at all, i understand.”

you shake your head and the corners of geto’s lips fall into a neutral line. he made a good point earlier, one that you can’t ignore if you want to prevent yourself from getting hurt the way you did before. and despite just learning about it, geto was hurting, too. if you can minimize the pain either of you have to experience, you will.

you clear your throat with hopes that your voice will come out steady. “i’d rather come to that conclusion together. since it has to do with both of us, y’know?”

geto’s shoulders slump as the tension seeps from them. “yeah. yeah, of course. whenever you’re ready.”

“we can start tonight if you have time,” you suggest, bashfully rubbing up and down your arms. it really feels like you’re starting over. before you knew his name, simply when you had a crush on the hot guy playing at the bar you were visiting for the night. “i want to hear about how your tour went.”

“okay,” geto easily agrees, the smile from earlier making its way back to his lips. it meets his eyes and the obsidian shards sparkle—with hope.

hi there, sua here! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[targaryenluvs]

PARANOIA

pairing: dark!peeta mellark x fem!reader

summary: peeta tries to reintegrate into society in district 13 and get over his fear of you being taken from him. no one noticed just how badly the capitol messed him up until he lashes out.

warnings: guilt trip/manipulation, possessive, panick attacks and nightmares

a/n: my first ever dark peeta fic as well as fic in general! thank you to the anon and their request

the first time you laid eyes on peeta since the arena was horrifying. his sullen eyes, hollowed out cheekbones, nimble fingers, all of it made you sick. your boyfriend was a shell of his former self and was deathly afraid of his best friend katniss.

it seemed you were the only one able to calm him down.

almost every night of yours was spent curled up in bed together, stroking his hair, assuring him that he was far away from the capitol.

“peeta, i promise, no one’s going to hurt you. i’m right here, shh.” you cooed, your hands rubbing down his arms. “y/n?” you smiled at the recognition, “yeah sweetie. i’m right here i promise.” his heart slowed down and so did his breathing, your hands around him, hearing your heart in your chest. you were alive. here with him. no one had taken you, he wouldn’t let them.

it was tough of course, getting him back into the world.

he seemed to think that everything was a problem, out to get him, to get you.

at his first dinner with everyone he’d been keeping his cool. focusing on eating his food and you. but it seemed to be all to much especially when finnick odair sat right next to you, striking up conversation for majority of the night, leaving peeta to himself.

“do you ever stop talking?” peeta’s abrupt disruption of the conversation and uncommon tone of annoyance was more than enough to stop everyone in their tracks. finnick was stunned, not expecting peeta to speak that way, and so were you. “peeta? is something wrong?” you asked him, hand slowly placed on his before he withdrew his, standing up suddenly.

“no, everything’s fine. let’s go.” he dragged your arm along with him, unrelenting grip as he led the two of you back to your room. “peeta! what the hell?” his glossy eyes made you immediately frown, “i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have yelled. i just…” you exhaled, unsure of how to approach the conversation.

“you’re acting so weird, i just want to make sure you’re okay. what happened out there?” you questioned, sitting next to him on your bed. “everyone was taking you away from me.” he murmured, playing with the hem of his shirt.

you smiled, “i was right next to you peeta, i wasn’t going away nor was anyone taking me. it was simple conversation. i’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, rather than lashing out, talk. tell me what’s wrong okay?” he nodded, “are you mad?” you hugged him tightly, “never.” you’d been told how hard it would be for peeta, but you never expected it to be this bad.

it seemed almost everything rubbed him the wrong way.

whether it was who you sat with, talked to or even looked at. it all affected peeta. and you had no clue how to handle it. of course you loved him yet you felt suffocated. you barely saw your friends half the time, peeta seemed to be everywhere.

his shouts for you in his sleep, he couldn’t control that of course yet it seemed to drain all the energy out of you. every night, as if on cue, he’d call out for you and your personal space was kissed goodbye as you crawled into his bed to hug him. promises of safety and love directed his way.

you found relief in your showers.

you could be alone, with your own thoughts for once. no peeta. you felt guilty at times, being so miserable around your dear boyfriend who’d been through so much. but it seemed the others were slowly getting better, johanna could at least sit with other people. annie had finnick of course. but peeta seemed to be getting worse, clinging into you for dear life and simultaneously dragging you away from your friends.

but of course, he’d pushed himself into the picture. claiming he felt as if he was back in the capitol when showering alone. he needed you, you’d help wouldn’t you? what a bad girlfriend you are if you deny him. and so he chipped away at your personal space, your privacy, all infiltrated by peeta mellark.

you were with him 24/7.

and he’d never let you go.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Dark HOTD - You allow them to visit brothels

Dark Daemon, Aegon, Aemond and Jace.

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

(female reader)

WARNINGS: Mentions of Non-con; Breeding kink.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

--

Daemon

Daemon is actually amused when you bring this up. He’ll smirk as you lie that you only want him to be fully pleased with the touch of professional women instead of you, but he can see right through your facade.

You clearly want him to leave you alone. Okay, so maybe he is relentless, compelling you to have sex multiple times a day but how is he supposed to resist to your magnificent body? 

Daemon will twist your words, instead. If you’re “concerned” about not being able to fully satisfy his carnal needs then don’t worry, he’ll teach you.

He’ll take on every opportunity to teach you and it becomes a kink for him. To give you lesson on how to give and take pleasure, educating his pure wife how to properly fuck.

You’ll end up being caught by servants one too many times on your knees, head between Daemon’s legs as his hand envelops your hair, guiding you to suck him off. 

"Do not worry, my love. I understand how afraid you are of the possibility of not being able to give me pleasure but I assure you that from now on I'll take upon myself the task of teaching you the depths of pleasure."

Aegon

Now, why would Aegon still visit brothels when he finally has a wife that can take care of him?

Not to mention that you’re now the only source of pleasure and lust for Aegon, you’re all he can think about. Not a moment goes by without him trying to allure you back into your private chambers for a quick release. 

It’s clear that you don’t like it but he doesn’t care. It’s your duty as wife, you’re there to please him, whether you like it or not.

And even if you outrightly try to refuse him, Aegon will just force you to do his bidding. Nice try but Aegon isn’t gonna give up on his favorite plaything. 

"Did you truly believe that I'd still visit those filthy whores when I finally have you? My pretty wife whose duty is to please me? If you wish to apologize to your husband, then get on your knees."

Aemond

Aemond will remain silent as you speak, analyzing you as you stutter words out. The only answer you get from him is a cryptic hmm and then he dives back into the book, so unbothered that you feel like he didn’t even listen to any of your words. 

And yet night after night, Aemond still comes to share a marital bed with you. If you really thought that he’d visit brothels instead of you, then you don’t know enough of Aemond. He doesn’t enjoy brothels, they’re filthy and gross. 

He can’t cum to anyone else other than you, his beautiful wife. It’s a mix between lust and possessive, that you’re his, fully his. 

It’s his cock that stretches you every night, it’s his cum that sticks inside of you and soon it will be his child to grow in your belly. You’re the only one that should bear his children, the true Targaryen blood. 

You’re the only one that he’ll bed, independently of how you feel about that. 

"I have no interest in seeking pleasure outside of our marital bed so you may forget about that topic. Or did you sincerely hope that I’d accept that offer? Either way, that won’t be happening."

Jace 

Jace isn’t going to be much pleased when you mention this. You’re married to each other and he wants both of you to be completely and entirely faithful to each other. 

He dotes on you so much, trying to be a good husband and here you come, throwing shameful suggestions onto him. 

Jace is going to be so mad that he won’t talk to you for a whole day as he cools down. Afterwards, he’s going to have an honest conversation on how he wants your marriage to work and for both of you to be fully devoted to each other.

He’ll let you know that he wants you, in every possible way and that isn’t going to change. He’ll make a clear point of informing you that you will be sharing chambers and a bed every night and that won’t change, no matter what. 

If you don’t feel inclined to make love on some night when you’re feeling unwell, then you should inform him and nothing needs to happen, but Jace makes it crystal clear that he won’t be seeking pleasure in anyone but you. 

"Do not insult me with this vile proposal, my wife. My body and soul belong entirely to you, so do not fear me. Our union will simply be the proof of my burning love for you."

[thesassypadawan]

So Warm (Padawan Anakin x RealWorldFemReader)

Summary: It’s barely the first day of winter and already you’re tired of being lonely and cold. So, your tipsy behind decides to take matters into your own hands by following some silly, old kids’ story and burying your poor padawan Ani figure in the snow. Better be ready, your not so ‘little dude’ is going to be in need of some warming up of his own once he comes to life.

Warnings: 18+. Padawan Ani and reader are of age. Some good old-fashioned fun from behind. Smut, smut, and more smut.

‘They say that if you wish with all your heart and bury the possession you hold the dearest deep into the fresh winter solstice snow. Then, when the clock strikes upon the witching hour, your desire will become a reality.’

It was amazing. After all these years, you still remembered that silly, old story from your childhood. Even more surprising, you were able to do so while thoroughly kicked in the ass.

What could you say? It had been a long year and, despite only being a few hours in, an even longer winter.

You hated being lonely and absolutely loathed being cold. You had hoped a drink or two or more would have remedied all of this, but, at about halfway through the bottle, you knew that a crazier approach was necessary.

At least, that’s what tipsy you thought.

So, there you were. Knee-deep in the snow. Shivering your ass off. Padawan Anakin figure clutched to your chest.

“All right, little dude, I need you to be real and Imma gonna need you to do it fast,” You slurred. “Gotta makes that bed toasty. We can warm each other up nice and good. Have lots of fun doin it, promise.”

You gave your ‘little dude’ a kiss on the head and shoved him into a pile of snow.

With the deed done, you stumbled back inside. Where, once undressed, you crawled into your cold, lonely bed and instantly passed – fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t wake until 3am. Well, you guessed it was three; since that’s normally when you would be in need of a glass of water. But, this time around, it wasn’t your thirst that got you up.

A very large and very cold someone was pressed firmly against your back. And, they were pushing something very big and even colder inside of you.

“So warm. You’re so warm, angel.” That someone mewled cutely once he was fully sheathed.

‘This is a dream,’ you thought groggily, involuntarily clenching down. ‘I know that voice and there is no way in hell that-'

Willing your eyes to open, you peered over your shoulder and was met by the sight of… A huge grin wearing and extremely naked, Anakin Skywalker. “Yup, definitely dreaming.”

“Not a dream,” Ani chuckled, nuzzling his icy nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m a real not so ‘little dude’ who’s here to help make the bed toasty.”

He emphasized the word ‘little’ with a hard thrust. Eliciting a small moan from you. “Ain’t nothing little about that.”

“Now, how about we warm each other up nice and good?” He muttered, nipping at your sensitive flesh. “We’ll have lots of fun doing it, promise.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat. ‘100% a dream…fuck it, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.’

“Okay,” you purred, rubbing your ass teasingly against him. “Let’s heat things up then.”

“That’s, my girl,” he groaned.

Anakin ground his hips into you. His cock absolutely splitting you open in the most delicious way. His chilled hand gripped your hip, the other toying with your pert nipples.

Inhaling sharply from his cool touch, you let out a small whimper. “Faster. Please, go faster.”

“As you wish,” he growled. Ani began to speed up, bottoming out over and over again. His hand now snaking between your legs to rub your throbbing clit. His thrusts becoming sloppy.

You could feel the tension building up inside of you. It was all so wonderfully overwhelming. His hands exploring the curves of your body. His lips marking up your neck. His cock perfectly hitting that right spot each time.

“Ani…Ani, I’m…I’m…”

“Go on. Let go. Cum all over my cock so prettily,” he whispered huskily.

All it took was his encouraging words. A wave of raw pleasure came crashing over you. Your body spasming in bliss. Stars filling your vision.

Not far behind. With a heavy groan, Anakin pumped his hot cum inside of you.

“That was one hell of a dream,” you panted, slowly coming down from your high.

Wrapping his arms around you, Ani let out a yawn. “Again, not a dream.”

“Whatever you say, Skyguy,” you said, trying to stifle your own yawn.

Snuggling further into his hold, you then asked drowsily. “So…you going to pull out anytime soon?”

“Nope, too warm and comfy,” Anakin mumbled, his breathing growing soft and even.

"Yeah, me too," you hummed before drifting off to sleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t wake again until early afternoon. Well, you guessed it was early afternoon; since that’s normally when the sun shone brightly in your room. But, this time around, it wasn’t the blinding light that got you up.

A very large and very warm someone was pressed firmly against your back. And, they had something very big and even warmer buried deep inside of you.

“So warm. You’re so warm, hatari.” That someone cutely mewled, content to already be fully sheathed.

‘I guess it wasn’t a dream,’ you thought happily, purposely clenching down. Making that someone groan into your ear.

Willing your eyes open, you peered over your shoulder and was met by…a pair of soft lips. “Yup, definitely not dreaming.”

“Told you,” Ani chuckled, nuzzling his warm nose into the crook of your neck. “I’m a real not so ‘little dude’ who’s here to help make the bed toasty.”

He emphasized the word ‘little’ once more with a hard thrust. Eliciting a small moan from you. “Again, ain’t nothing little about that.”

“Now, that weird comlink of yours went off a bit ago. Said there’s an ‘extreme low temperature warning’ all day,” he muttered, giving your breast a gentle squeeze. “So, I say, let’s stay in all day. Keep each other nice and good and warm. We’ll have lots of fun doing it, promise.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you melted under his touch. ‘A girl could get used to waking up like this. Thank you, silly, old childhood story. Thank you winter solstice.’

“Okay,” your giggle, playfully tugging on his braid. “Let’s heat things up then.”

“That’s, my girl,” Anakin growled, already grinding his hips against your ass.

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 1.2k

Taglist: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp  @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07  @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada @kenma-izhu @cookielovesbook-akie @elevenpurple

A/n: I hope this chapter was just as good as the others, I feel like it was somewhat sloppily done, but I'm not too sure, I'm just so freaking hot in my room, I am sweating bullets and can't think, lmao.

All chapter links!!! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 13

You were sprawled about on Tatum’s spare bed she had in her room, whereas Sidney was tummy-first on her inflatable, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. 

“God, I loved it.” Tatum giggled, pulling her blonde hair into a tight ponytail, whilst looking at you, her eyes filled with admiration. “I’ll send you a copy… BAM!” She punched a stuffed bunny that was next to her before picking it up, flinging it all over the place in excitement, “Bitch went down.” She laughed, “The insults had to be my favourite part, though.” She gleamed, tossing the stuffy elsewhere. 

You rolled your eyes at her exaggeration, “Tatum, it wasn’t a movie, there shouldn’t be any favourite parts. I punched a person, let alone insulted her outside a police station…”. You sat up from the bed, sitting criss-crossed, propping your arm up on your thigh and resting your chin in the palm of your hand. “I could have been arrested!” You chortled, snorting in the process.

Tatum completely ignored that possibility, her exhilaration being her only muse. 

“I’ll send you a copy—BAM! (Y/n), superbitch.” Tatum repeated and in her best you voice she said, “Now, if I were you, I would put that book on hold and shut the fuck up for once.” She placed her hand on her hip, contorting her face into that of someone who was extremely confident. 

Your lips formed a thin line, shocked at how she managed to recall the event word-for-word. “I’m actually surprised you were able to remember all that, was it really that impressive?” You quirked a brow, tilting your head, ignoring the sudden pain in your hand. 

 “Uh, yeah.” She tsk-ed, “I’m certain you’ll be the talk of the school tomorrow.” She giggled. “You’re so cool.” She beamed, batting her lashes. 

“I thought you might want some ice for that right hook.” Dewey suddenly appeared in the doorway, tossing you an ice pack.

You caught it with your sore hand, wincing slightly, regretting your instinct to catch it with your dominant one.

“Thanks, Dewey..” You warmly smiled up at him, placing the pack on your knuckles and instant relief was felt. 

You laid back down, your head hitting the pillow.

“I’ll be right next door. Try to get some sleep, girls.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Tatum groaned, waving her hand at her older brother, motioning him to leave. 

You turned on your side, looking at Sidney and a ping of guilt washed over you, yet again that night. 

She was distraught, and she looked uncomfortable, most likely because of the argument you both shared with each other earlier at school, and how you gave her the cold shoulder at the Police Station, silently scolding her for the ridiculousness of believing that her own boyfriend would try to kill her. 

You frowned, a wave of gloominess lingering in the air as you let the ice pack fall to the ground. 

“Sidney?” You whisper, trying to get her attention. 

She shuffles, not wanting to talk, but she soon groans, turning to face you.

“Yeah?” She questions.

“I’m sorry.” You pout, rubbing at your orbs. “I shouldn’t have said those things at school, and I shouldn’t have scolded you at the police station.” You mumbled, “You’re a person; you have feelings and those feelings are valid and they always will be.” You finished.

Sidney’s eyes grew, not sure how to process everything, but she soon smiled, and for once, she didn’t feel like you were the bad guy and that everything will be okay. 

“It’s fine, (Y/n). Apology accepted…” She trailed, “Though, you were right, I had no business to go through your journal and call you names when my mother was something else…” She gulped, “I don’t know what got over me… and I am truly sorry.” She twiddles with her thumbs, looking at you with hopeful hues, as if she was begging for your forgiveness, and in ways, she was. Afterall, you did punch a woman for both her sake and yours. 

Tatum cheered, glad that her two best friends made up. “Jeez, I’m thankful you both apologized to one another because I was starting to get bummed out in my own home.” She laughs. “On a more serious note…” Tatum changes the subject, her curiosity getting the better of her. “Do you really think Billy did it?” 

Sidney’s smile soon faded, “He was there, Tatum..” Her voice trembled.

Tatum rolled her eyes, “He was destined to have a flaw, I knew he was too perfect.” She whined. 

Knock… Knock…Knock…

Rapid knocking at Tatum’s bedroom door was heard and this caught everyone's attention.

Tatum looked at the door, seeing it open, revealing her mother, Mrs. Riley, “Telephone, honey.” 

“Who is it?” The blonde asks. 

“It’s for Sid…” 

“Is it my dad?” Sidney popped up from off the floor, looking over yours and Tatum’s bed.

“I don’t think so.” 

“Take a message?” You chirped in.

“No, um, I’ll get it.” Sidney looks at you and Tatum, indicating for the both of you to follow her.

“Gotcha..” You mouthed at her, grabbing ahold of Tatum’s hand, forcing her to get up and follow you towards Sidney and the three of you went out the door.

--

Sidney placed the phone up against her ear, her nerves screaming to be let out, “H-Hello?” She stutters.

“Hello, Sidney.” The killer spoke.

“NO, NO!” She yells, gripping the sides of her head. 

You and Tatum rushed to her side, holding her, keeping her from freaking out anymore. 

“Poor Billy-boyfriend.” 

Sidney quickly placed the phone down, clicking the speaker button, so everyone could hear. 

“An innocent guy doesn’t stand a chance with you.”

“Leave me alone!” She yells, starting to hyperventilate. 

“DEWEY!” Mrs. Riley rushes off to get her son. 

“Looks like you fingered the wrong guy…Again.”

“Who are you?” 

“Hang up, Sid.” Tatum ushers her friend as you rubbed her arm, trying to support her. 

“Don’t worry, Sidney. You’ll find out soon enough. I promise.” The killer gloats, taking a heavy-breath. “Oh, and (Y/n), Sweetheart, I hope you found the gift a real heart stopper~”

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