#MORE responsibility. and yet its still not enough. im not enough.

[emypony]

.

[toytulini]

i made an oc thats at least nicknamed "Stupid" and im constantly thinking about what a power move that is tbh

[horrorwebs]

fucking hell fucking hell is she gonna reject me? i want to let sth out for a second and didnt want to tell my psychologist until i have answers so. tags it is

[gyalcoeur-love]

this week was so shit... but i only gave up 2 days but it was really hard... all these consequences are so exhausting

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS part 3 - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader

no content warnings for this part ! :) (there is more fluff in this part, finally)

p.s i wrote half of this on a train that smelt so bad so if its bad we blame thameslink <3

part 1 -> part 2 -> part 3 -> part 4 -> part 5 -> part 6 -> part 7!

max decided he’d talk to his sister later, right now, he needed to focus on being there for lando. right now, they were sat in the mclaren garage, qualifiers underway and lando doing so well. even y/n started to believe she was a lucky charm. and indeed, lando now believed she was 100% his lucky charm.

the moment his post-qualifying responsibilities ended, he came bounding over to y/n and max, first taking max into what y/n could only describe as a bro hug, ending when he swiftly moved to embrace her, mumbling a chant of ‘thank yous’ in her ear. he caught max in an awkward stare, prompting him to let go of y/n.

“thank me? what for? that was all you lan,” she said, smiling up at him as she moved her arms to cross over her chest.

“thanks to my lucky charm,” he said to both of them, but smirking at y/n, “im starting 2nd on the grid tomorrow. strong start means a strong race,” he finished, still beaming from ear to ear.

“me and y/n are going out for some food in a bit if you wanna join mate,” max said, smiling back at his friend.

“yeah sounds good. ive got to shower, but i’ll swing by and pick you both up from your hotel at 5?”

“perfect, see you there mate.”

the drive back to the hotel was silent, y/n assumed her brother was tired, her brother was in fact thinking. more specifically, thinking about his sister and where she had been the night before. he tried to stop his mind wandering further and yet, images of his sister and best friend infiltrated his thoughts. max’s brain couldn’t stop dwelling on the way lando embraced his sister, how his hands gripped at her waist, and then he thought back to that night in monaco. the way his best friend stood behind y/n, his hands on her waist, her head rolled back onto his shoulder as they danced to the music. before he knew it, the fear and anger he thought had dissipated months ago, was bubbling back inside of him, his hands gripping the steering wheel to ground him from the feeling.

y/n noticed. of course she did. spending 20 years of your life around someone tends to give you the ability to read their every emotion - and this one was one that y/n was not too familiar with. max usually held his anger and sadness well, so the only times she’d seen this was in his earlier driving career when races didn’t go his way. she hoped so desperately he wasn’t angry with her, after all, nothing had happened, and as far as she was aware, nothing would happen.

by the time 5 o’clock came around, max had returned to his normal self, conversing with y/n normally. that’s a good sign, y/n thought to herself. and now, he was chatting to lando as he drove them to a restaurant outside of the town they were staying in. it was all going so well, max was calm, y/n and lando were friends again and nothing could ruin this moment.

“y/n, why is your lip balm in lando’s centre console?”

shit.

“oh i think it fell out the top of my bag when i climbed in the back,” she said panicked, her eyes quickly darting to lando, who was suddenly very interested in the road ahead. max seemed ok with her answer, humming with a quick nod before continuing his conversation with lando. y/n, however, was filled with a new wave of anxiety. why did she feel like this? she hadn’t even done anything? and yet, her mind was now plagued with guilt.

her hands came together, playing with her fingers and twisting her rings around to calm the anxious thoughts, a trait she’d had since childhood. lando glanced at her in his rear view mirror, seeing her facial expressions - her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth falling into a natural frown. he then spotted her hands. he tried to join her into the conversation, tried to distract her, but soon enough they were parked and walking into the restaurant. max chose to sit opposite his sister, leaving lando and y/n pushed together in the booth.

her foot tapped the floor, shaking her whole leg, as the boys talked, y/n chiming in occasionally.

“mum and dad are coming up tonight for the race tomorrow,” lando said to max, but his hand came to brush the side of y/n’s bouncing leg, his finger drawing small circles on her thigh, “they’re staying in your hotel i think.”

“good thing you did well today then isn’t it,” max replied, laughing slightly, “i can drive them to the track tomorrow morning if they want?”

“i’ll ask, im sure they’ll be glad. dad hates driving before my races, gets to nervous and forgets to indicate,” lando responds, joining max in laughing at the thought of adam norris forgetting how to drive.

“i’m just gonna run to the toilet, do either of you want a drink whilst im up?” max asked, pushing his chair back under the table as he stands. y/n nods, asking for another diet coke whilst lando declines, holding up his half full glass.

the moment max disappears from sight, lando takes y/n's hand in his, brushing his thumb up and down the back, her leg slowing its bouncing.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, quietly, sad eyes coming to meet hers.

“my lip balm lando. i don’t want to know the conclusions max will jump to, and i don’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger.”

“it’ll be fine, i promise. he’s got nothing to be angry about, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

“you didn’t see him earlier. i thought he was going to rip the steering wheel off.”

“we’ve done nothing wrong,” he repeats, “besides, you’re a grown woman who makes her own life decisions. fuck it if he has a problem.” y/n nodded in response. he had a point. she was a strong independent woman, she didn’t need her brothers permission to do anything.

for the rest of the evening, she re-joined conversations, feeling a new sense of confidence in herself that she had been lacking all weekend.

-

race day had approached quickly, y/n found herself sat in lando’s drivers room. max and lando’s parents had gone for a walk to grab some food, leaving the two of them alone. lando was pacing, his pre race nerves grew stronger every minute. quite frankly, y/n was sick of it - she sat back on the sofa, her eyes darting back and forth like the audience at a tennis match as she followed lando’s strides back and forth across the small room.

“lan?” she asked him, but he didn’t stop moving, and barely grunted to acknowledge that she’d spoken.

“lando? can you stop pacing? you’re making me dizzy,” she said with a sigh, and he finally came to a stop, and turned to look at her.

“sorry,” he said, smiling at her, as she stood up and walked towards him.

similar to last night, she took both of his hands in hers, pulling them to rest at the top of her chest. her eyes found his, staring directly into them.

“you nervous?”

“how could you tell?” he said, laughing slightly.

“you don’t need to be, you smashed qualis and you’ll smash this. besides, your lucky charm is here to save the day,” y/n said, adding a grin at the end of her sentence. the room fell into silence as he mulled her words over in his head. she was still looking at him, and he tried not to break the eye contact, but his eyes gradually dropped to look at her lips. she was still smiling at him, trying to calm him down the only way y/n knew how to. and she was still smiling at him when he leant down slightly, closing the gap between them even more.

“can i kiss you?” he asked slowly, as if to test the waters, the tension between them rising more than it ever had.

“i think that would be ok,” she said. he didn’t wait to join their lips together finally, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as his hands dropped from hers to fall and grip her waist softly. y/n’s hands moved to rest on the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, his tongue swiping her lower lip as her mouth parted to deepen the kiss.

he could’ve stayed in that moment forever, and he would’ve if a knock hadn’t interrupted the moment - y/n tensed up at the sound.

“lando are you ready? it’s time to get in the car.”

“uhh, yea. just give me a second,” he said, glancing down, first at y/n, panic leaving her shoulders as she established it wasn’t max, and then down to his fireproofs, readjusting the rest of his suit around his waist.

“we need you now, lando,” the voice said again, staying behind the door.

“we’ll continue this later,” he said pressing another kiss to her lips and her forehead, before walking to the door.

she grabbed her phone, her best friend was the only person she could trust to advise her now.

“well done lando, that’s p2,” lando’s race engineer announced through the radio, cheers erupting in the garage. y/n moved to cisca’s embrace, celebrating his win, after spending the entire race on the edge of their seats. the group, consisting of max, y/n and lando’s parents moved round to where lando’s car would pull in, excited to celebrate his podium with him.

when he was finally free from the cockpit, he moved to push his visor up, eyes darting around the crowd in hopes of spotting a familiar face. he spotted his mum first, and then the girl stood next to her. her smile could outshine the sun, he had thought to himself as he made great strides towards the group. lando reached over the low fencing, grabbing his mum into a tight embrace, her hand rubbing up and down his back supportively. when he stepped back and looked to his right, he saw y/n again. still smiling up at him. he would never get tired of seeing her smile.

his hands moved to her face, holding her jaw, eyes staring into hers. she couldn’t see his smile through his helmet, but she knew he was beaming. her own hands had risen to hold the sides of his helmet. he stared for a second longer before moving to pull her into an embrace tighter than his mums.

“my lucky charm,” he said to her, loud enough for a few people around her to hear.

“go get weighed and finish up. ill see you after,” she said as he pulled back, him nodding at her. just as he turned to celebrate with the rest of the team, she pulled him back.

“oh, and lando - im proud of you.” with that he left.

y/n turned to her side, looking at cisca, who was still smiling, an odd glint to her eyes. she then turned behind her, expecting to see her brother. but he wasn’t there.

“adam? where’s max?” she asked the man who had been stood next to max.

“he, um, he just left. didn’t say anything to me. he just kind of, walked off?” lando’s dad responded, looking as confused as she did.

this was not good. in fact, this was very bad.

★ ☆ ✦ ✧ ✩ ✶

tag list: @harrysdimple05 @scopeiguess @hiireadstuff @landosgirlxoxo @natt9598 @phantomxoxo @val-writes @secretgal66 @ririyulife @littlehoneyfreak @leclercdream

[biibini]

Perhaps maybe Mizu as a bottom? Whimpering and begging for more. Reader talking her through it and being loving.

nsfw bottom!mizu x top!reader (request)

tags: dom!reader, bottom mizu, eating out, cunilingus, smut, 18+. begging, whimpering, praise, dirty talk, modern au

a/n: requests & posts r gonna be slowed down for now bc of school hahaha hahaha (i have three 3-hr classes back to back in one day im going to cry),,, anyways i'll shut up ab school and start writing with one hand down my pant-

18+ content below!

u and mizu are making out one night in bed one late night

nothing crazy but its getting really heated

usually, u would let her stay on top and continue to mess u up with her fingers

but tonight would be something different

u move as u continue to make out, placing urself on top this time

"Oh, does my pretty girl want to be in control?" Mizu teased, placing her hands atop your hips. Her eyes traced your body starting from your thighs. You feel her hands softly grab your waist, anticipating your next move.

You nodded in response, getting close to her face. You stare deeply into those ocean blue orbs of hers. God, you could get lost in them anytime.

"Please, let me be on top tonight." You proposed.

Mizu couldn't resist your pretty eyes staring at her, almost begging to try something new. She tilted her head in curiousity.

"Okay, baby." Her hands adjusted to your thighs, giving them a small squeeze. "So what are your plans tonight Y/N?"

"Mmm, nothing in particular." Your face inching closer to her face, your lips almost brushing with hers. "I just want to love my beautiful girlfriend."

You close the gap between you two while your right hand gently palms her boxers. Your fingers drag along the thin gray fabric, only to find a small damp spot by her entrance. Still busy deepening the kiss with your beloved, you circle the edges of the wet spot. A moan slips out of Mizu.

When it comes to Mizu and noises, she typically doesn't speak out too much. You would mainly hear her in praises and words. However, your main goal was to change that tonight.

You continued to bring attention the the spot, circling it deeper. Mizu could feel the pads of your fingers dragging the surroundings of her entrance. It didn't help that the boxer fabric dragged along her clit.

God, that fucking underwear. It was the only thing between her and true pleasure from you. If only you could rip it off right now, she thought.

Instead, she threw her head back as you continued, positioning yourself under her. You hear her take a deep breath.

Looking up, you spot Mizu watching your next actions. Her face was practically red yet her eyes glowed blue in anticipation of your next move.

If it wasn't for your mission, you would have torn the boxers off of her and gone to town. However, you decided otherwise. You wanted to hear those sweet moans of her tonight.

No. 'Wanted' wasn't the right word.

Needed.

You paused right in front of her boxers. You come back up, your face still close to her body. Your hand balances you as the other makes its way up her oversized shirt, finding her breasts and giving the left one a soft squeeze.

"Fuck, Y/N..." she moaned.

Not enough, I know she can say more.

Your index finger barely brushes against her right nipple. A small gasp escapes out of Mizu.

Bingo.

As your hand cups her boob, you feel it grows hard against the fabric only a few seconds after. You chuckle, rubbing her nipple in between your thumb and index finger. Another moan slips out, louder in volume.

You check on her visual reaction, only to find her frustrated. Yet her erratic breathing and flushed face proved otherwise. You come closer to her, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Does it feel good, my love?" you question. There was endearment behind that question, but Mizu could also hear the light teasing tone.

“God, Y/N, it feels so- ah-" she attempts to answer while your right hand now lightly tugging on her right nipple, still rubbing it between tugs. You feel her right hand pet the back of your head, running through your scalp.

"It feels so good, baby."

Her praises were all you needed to keep going.

You deepen the kiss and pull up her shirt impatiently to get a better view. At this point, fuck the fabric. You needed to hear her moan more. You start your journey back down, peppering her neck with kisses.

"Oh does it now?" You question, your voice vibrating against her neck.

"Fuck...", she quietly whines. "Yes, it does- ah-"

You had made your way down to her boobs, now planting kisses on her soft mounds. You lightly start to suck on the soft sides of her breasts, leaving a subtle mark for her to find later tomorrow morning.

"My love is so good." you tease, kissing it once again as your fingers pull on her right nipple again.

No coherent words came out of Mizu. Instead, only moans spilled out of your girlfriend. In response to the pleasure, you feel Mizu's hand against your scalp start to fist up, grabbing a chunk of your hair.

You groan from the light tug. Fuck, this was really hot. Mizu, the typical top, was a fumbling wet mess under your touch.

On the other hand, Mizu's mind was on its way to being fried from pleasure. Her pretty girl was treating her so well, pushing every button.

Well, almost every button. Except the ones covered by her boxers.

You dragged yourself down in between her legs again. The small damp spot from before had grown in size from earlier. A small grin formed as you ran your finger down the middle of the spot. Passing her clit, you feel her twitch under you. You heard a groan in response to the touch.

"Aw Mizu," you say teasingly as your hands gently held her thighs apart, allowing you more room to get closer. "Did you need some attention here?", you say as you ran the same finger down the same spot.

Another moan escapes.

You continued to palm her throbbing clit through the fabric. If the roles were reversed, you would have been begging Mizu for her fingers, the strap, or just anything in you. Circumstances have changed tonight so you wondered how Mizu would react to similar scenarios.

"Shit...", she cursed. "Baby."

Mizu pulled herself up by her elbows, looking down to see the view of u in between her legs. You continue to palm the spot with a bit more pressure. You could tell the fabric being the only barrier between ur fingers and her wet folds was pissing Mizu off.

"Fuck hell, Y/N..." she says.

You hum in response, planting a kiss on her spot. Mizu takes a deep breath in, her mind trying to clear up. Instead, it's filled with lust, almost impatient for your touch.

"Please, baby." she answers.

"Please, what?" You palmed her boxers to find her clit, practically sticking out and throbbing against the thin gray fabric. You circled around it, watching and hearing every moan come out of Mizu.

You watch her throw her head back, biting her lip. Her eyes were already half-lidded, drunk with receiving pleasure from her pretty girl.

"Please eat me out, pretty girl."

You kiss her inner thigh, smiling in delight. You pulled down her boxers to find her wet mess puffy and needy, wanting and waiting to be touched by you.

She takes a peek at your reaction, hoping to watch the scene. She could finally unravel her and feel the pleasure that you had been teasing her with.

Face to face with her entrance, you could feel the heat off of it radiate. You give it a slow lick, finally tasting your mission's reward. Mizu groans, now louder for you to hear.

You feel more liquid gush out, lubricating your tongue with her honey.

"Mmm, s'good for me.", you compliment as your tongue enters slowly. You feel her walls tighten with the sudden entrance.

"Oh god, fuck." Mizu curses, her eyes closed shut. Her mind fully lets herself go, vulnerable under ur touch and waiting for your work to pleasure her even more. You continue to enter your tongue inside her, hoping to hear the volume of her moans increase.

[plush-rabbit]

The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe

Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•)  This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -

Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.

You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic  to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.

“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere. 

You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.

A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.

You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.

“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.

“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip. 

“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”

With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”

“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”

“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”

There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you. 

You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”

“A Goetia?”

“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”

“I don’t get out a lot.”

“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by  mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside. 

You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”

“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.

You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”

“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”

You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Rough night,” he answers

You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”

When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty. 

“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares. 

Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess. 

There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been. 

You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.

The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do. 

You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.

“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.

“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”

“You don’t got any?”

“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”

He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”

“Were you good at the guitar?”

He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”

“What songs would you perform?”

“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”

“You’d perform in heaven?”

He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”

“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.” 

You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,

He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”

“Are you thinking about buying it?”

“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of  exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”

You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.” 

He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves. 

“Quit judging,” he snips. 

You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you. 

You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.

“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”

“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”

“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”

“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”

“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”

“Maybe,” you answer.

“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”

“And horns,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.

You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.”  Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“So why’d you leave then?”

Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.

With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”

There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity. 

There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.

You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits.  It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.

“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”

“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.

You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”

Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line. 

“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”

“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”

“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.

“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”

“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended. 

“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke.  “You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”

“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”

“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”

The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”

“Meaning?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.

You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a  cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin. 

But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand. 

“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”

His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.

“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”

“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.

“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”

“Hell is supposed to suck.”

“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”

“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”

“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.  

[catboybiologist]

Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

[keikikait]

ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 2 of my previous fic, which you can find here

for my other gojo smut, click here!

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.5k

summary: you’re home from your teacher retreat to nikko, ready for the new term. what you’re not ready for? gojo to come home to you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) SMUT - 18+ ONLY! MDNI, dom!gojo and sub!reader, protected sex (pill, not mentioned but its there) degrading (he uses the word slut), hair pulling, nipple play, spitplay (bye….), light edging, finger/thumb sucking (don’t look at me), use of the words [cock, cunt, and tits], slight oral (f receiving), a bit of angst & a bit of mean gojo, nickname use [baby, pretty girl, doll], no use of y/n

a note: i know i said this would be out next week but it was my day off so i wrote it all today. this is less angst, more smut, but i can’t help myself so there is some angst. also, im sorry i made gojo such an asshole, i promise that he will get better! part 3 will be out soon my loves.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

Your eyes are already open when your alarm goes off. 

You didn’t sleep at all. There was no point, even after you finished crying your head hurt too much to sleep, even with some painkillers. You laid there, wide awake all night thinking about Gojo. Did he think of you, too? You turn the alarm off and slide out of bed, your slipper-covered feet shuffling as you make your way around your apartment. 

You brush your teeth and look in the mirror. Your eyes are puffy and swollen, mascara smeared down your cheeks. You pop some spoons in the freezer to cool as you clean yourself up and get dressed. Your phone sits untouched on the bedside table, still plugged in.

You sit on the side of your bed, pressing the now cold spoons against your swollen eyes. You take deep breaths, trying to relax. You had every right to be upset, after all. Gojo has no reason to string you along, whispering sweet nothings in your ear at night about how you’re his girl, his doll, his everything. But that’s exactly what that was. Nothing. Maybe, you think, this is some kind of karma. Some sort of punishment for your arrogance, for thinking you could have what everyone else wants, Gojo, and here—at last—it was.

You put on some de-puffing undereye patches that you keep in the fridge and clean your entire apartment spotless to distract yourself, music blasting from the phone in your back pocket. You finally throw out that dead fern you got as a gift from the school board when you first started, and you finally clean out your fridge of the now moldy condiments you tried once on a whim. You’re washing dishes when the front door opens and, suddenly, Gojo steps inside. He had opted for his dark blue circular sunglasses today, an odd choice for the winter but you didn’t mind it. “Hi,” you say, surprised, pulling off the bright marigold gloves and setting them on the side of the sink to dry. For a second, you think about the absolute state of your eyes. The swelling and puffiness had gone down, and even though he had never seen you cry, you think about the fact that even if he noticed your eyes he wouldn’t care enough to ask questions.

“Hey,” is all Gojo says in response. You wait to see if he says anything else, or if he is going to try to explain himself, but he doesn’t, and eventually moves across your apartment to head to the bathroom. You hesitate before you make your way after him, passing his duffel bag on the floor of your closet, which was unzipped and filled with enough clothes that it was clear that he was going to stay for a while.

You feel pathetic admitting it to yourself but having Gojo there — not just in your apartment, but in your room — feels nice. He doesn’t speak to you yet, but his very presence steadies and refocuses you. As grateful as you are that he came back to you, you are also a little disappointed in yourself, by how dependent you are, how weak. Who were you without him?

Eventually, he faces you, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Hey, pretty girl.”

You swallow hard, willing yourself to be strong, to finally confront him about all of the false promises and the date with Himiko, but you can’t. Not yet. “Hi, Gojo.”

He smiles, reaching you with just one step and collecting you in his arms, wrapping them tightly around your hips. He leans down and kisses you, for the first time in almost nine days, and you feel yourself giving up, giving all power to him.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, smirking. “I missed you. I’m sorry that I didn’t come home last night…I got carried away.”

You’ve noticed over the past eleven months (yes, you kept track) of your situationship that he uses that term a lot; carried away. He uses it when he gets a little too handsy during the free periods at work and when he stares at you a bit too long during staff meetings. He uses it when he forgets to call or text you and when it seems like you’re the last thing on his mind. Maybe you are. 

You smile, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He grins, gently running his hands up your back, lightly scratching his nails against you, making you shiver. “Of course. I always come back home to you.” He bends at the knees and picks you up, carrying you the short distance to your bed before laying you down and climbing on top of you. Excitement fills your body as he leans down and starts placing soft kisses along your neck. You arch into him, whining and tugging on his sleeves, and he chuckles. “Relax, doll. Quit acting so desperate. You’re not in charge here, remember?”

You feel drool pool in your mouth and you quickly swallow it. “I’m sorry, Gojo, it’s just that —”

He interrupts you, sliding his thumb into your mouth to shut you up. “I know, baby, I know. You went eight whole days without my touch and now you’re acting like a desperate little slut,” You nod, hoping he won’t tease you this time. He smirks at the dumb look on your face before saying, “Open.” You do, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out a little. He pulls his thumb away and draws back briefly before spitting into your open mouth. You swallow it without his command. You know what he likes.

He grins, kissing your lips once more before kissing down your chin and neck, slowly sliding off your t-shirt. You whine and squirm under him, and after he pulls your shirt off he clamps his hand over your mouth. “Shut up. If you keep whining, I won’t fuck you at all. Is that what you want?” You shake your head vigorously, that’s the last thing you want. He removes his hand before continuing, “Good. Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” You nod, relaxing into your sheets as he kisses down your chest. He pushes your bra up over your tits, groaning as he squeezes them in his hands. “Fuck. I missed my girls.” You would normally scold him for objectifying you, but at this moment you didn’t care. You wanted his hands on you, and you wanted his dick inside of you as soon as possible.

He takes the sunglasses off and brings one of your nipples to his mouth, lightly brushing his lips against it to tease you. He sticks his tongue out and drags it along your nipple in circles, loving the way your thighs fall open and the little sounds you make. He finally, finally sucks your nipple into his mouth, pinching the other one hard just to feel you squirm. He rolls your bare nipple between his fingers while he lightly nibbles on the one in his mouth. Your head is spinning, and all you can do is tug on his hair as he teases you. He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting it to his lips. He picks it up on his finger and rubs it on your face just to humiliate you.

He kisses down your torso, tugging down your pyjama bottoms and tossing them onto the floor. He kisses your thighs as he pushes them up and against your chest so you’re nice and spread out for him, just as he likes. He notices the wet spot on your plain blue cotton underwear and smirks, rubbing at it with his thumb. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?”

You take it you can respond to him now. “Fuck, Gojo, please! Please stop teasing me, I already went eight days without you.” The whine in your voice makes him feel so big, so powerful. He barely touches you and you’re already crumbling at his feet. Maybe he should keep you there.

He makes that condescending tsk tsk tsk sound that normally annoys you, but now you can’t help it and you whine and squirm even more. “You’re so desperate, baby. You can’t even handle a little teasing?” He presses his thumb right against your clit, the wet spot spreads even more. “I guess you do have a point, though. I haven’t made you cum since we left for Nikko.” He kisses right above the hem of your underwear before pulling it down, the blue fabric now dangling around your ankle. He moans, pushing your legs back even further and spreading your cunt. 

He spits directly onto your pink little hole, watching as it mixes with your juices. In this moment, you’re his. You’re his everything, his girl, his doll. In this moment you actually mean something to him, when you’re spread out and begging for his attention. He runs his pointer finger down your slit, collecting some spit before dragging it back up to your clit and lightly circling it.

You almost cum on the spot. Days of pent-up horniness and teasing and you’re as sensitive as ever. You bite your lip, looking over at him with nothing but love and affection in your gaze. “Please, Gojo. Please don’t tease me. I don’t know if I can handle it.”

He gets comfortable, moving your thighs over his shoulders as he lays down on the bed. “You’ll take what I give you. Don’t disappoint me.” He circles your clit with his finger one last time before leaning down and sucking it into his mouth. You arch your back, your hands finding solace in his hair as you writhe and moan. He moans at your taste, gripping your hips hard as he gets lost in your cute little cunt. You grind against his face, and he lets you, loving the feeling of your clit against his tongue. He teases your hole with his fingers, sliding his thumb in as he swirls his tongue around your clit in circles. You clench up tight, mumbling praises along with I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum! before he pulls away completely. He laughs at the noise you make, and at the way your face contorts and tears well in your eyes. He slaps the inside of your thigh before standing up and unbuttoning his pants. “Oh, come on. Be a good girl for me, okay?”

You move up on the bed, your back supported by your pillows as he climbs over you. You’ve seen his dick a lot, more times than you can count, but the sheer size of it always surprises you. Thick and long, slightly curved to the left, with a pretty pink tip to match. His balls are big, too, full of cum and practically begging to be in your mouth, which waters as soon as you see it. 

Gojo looms over you, pushing you onto the bed as he slides in between your legs and gets comfortable. He rubs his tip against you, getting it nice and wet so you don’t struggle with the size as he fucks you, at least not too much. In a moment of pure intimacy, he reaches his hand up and rubs his thumb against your cheek, looking at you with an almost adoring gaze. You go to say something to him but all words escape your throat as he pushes his cock into you. You both moan in unison as he slides in and out slowly.

“God,” he groans, leaning down on his elbows and getting right in your face. “I missed you so much, baby. I know I’m such a dick to you, I just can’t help it, you look so cute when you’re angry…fuck, you feel so good.” He isn’t vocal in bed very often, and your heart swells as you get to watch him come undone and make such pretty noises as he does. 

In the heat of the moment, you forgive him. You know you’ll probably regret it, but you can’t stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like you’re the only woman in the world for him. Your smile is cut short by your moan as you manage to say, “It’s okay, Gojo. Please just stay here. Stay here with me.”

Gojo nods, propping himself up on one flat palm as his hips pick up speed. Normally he loves foreplay, he can tease you and edge you for hours, but the time spent without you in his arms and without you wrapped around his cock was too much to bare for him. He knows he fucked up, but he can’t take it back. He’s Satoru Gojo, and he has a reputation he needs to uphold. He’s all run, and you’re all fight, and that’s part of the reason why he feels so drawn to you.

He looks at you, moving to his elbows and reaching up to grab your face and pull you into a kiss. He pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, biting his lip as his hips move even faster. He drops back down to his elbows, your chests pressed together as he shakily moans, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, doll, I’m gonna cum.”

You nod, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as you cum around him, clenching down on his cock. He buries his face in your neck as he cums after you, cumming inside of you, like he always does. His breathing is ragged as he lays there, his cock twitching inside of you as his cum spills inside. Gojo eventually moves away from your neck, some of his hair matted to his forehead, slick with sweat. You push the hair back and smile at him, kissing his forehead gently. Even if he didn’t love you, you still loved him. And you think you always will.

He pulls out, immediately getting you a towel splashed with some warm water as he cleans you up. He’s gentle with his aftercare, making sure you’re comfortable, and collecting your water bottle from the living room. You pee before getting dressed, laying with him on the bed. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, pressing your face into his chest, and sliding his hand into your hair. He holds you there for a while, your breathing in sync before he leans down and kisses your forehead. 

Gojo puts on a cooking show to watch on your TV, setting the remote aside as he holds you close. He strokes your hair, and your mind starts to drift, and you wonder if he cares about you in the same way you care about him. Are you not good enough for him? Is there something wrong with you? Are you not what he wants? Are you not what he needs? You wake up every morning, hopeful for what’s to come with him, but you spend most of your time thinking about what you’ve already had and what he’s already said to you. You’re missing all these memories—maybe they were never even yours. 

Nothing hurts like he does.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part 3 is here

[hystixia]

WARNINGS 、NONCON, CHOKING, SIZE KINK, CERVIX FUCKING, DEGRADATION

NOTE 、ignore spelling errors and whatnot. i literally dont even have time to format this properly rn sorry </3 this is lowkey shit so im sorry again LMAO

You don’t know if it’s possible, but Jeff Mason found a way to completely turn your brain off. Your tongue is lolled out, eyes rolled back into your skull as you babble out whimpers and begs and incoherent slurs of his name hanging off your seemingly numb wet muscle. However he is proud of the state you’re in because of him. After all, you were his whether you liked it or not.

“Nothin’ but a dumb fuckin’ slut, huh?” He breathes out with a smirk, breath hot against your neck and his body caging yours against the soft blankets and sheets of your bed. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger than you that despite your efforts to wriggle away from his painfully good thrusts, he keeps you locked in place with his large hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave marks. “That’s right, just a needy cocksleeve, hm? Too dumb to think, just made to take my cock. Isn’t that right, doll?”

You can’t reply, he knows you’re unable to fathom a single response in that fucked dumb head of yours. Yet he still talks to you in a mocking tone, grinning sinisterly at your glassy eyes as you cling to the sheets and gasp loudly in between “ah”s and “omph”s that fall from your bruised lips.

“J-Jef— haah! Jeff—” “Such a whiney bitch, huh? Never shutting that whore mouth’ve yours.” He hisses out, slamming into you impossibly harder and making you scream out until your throat is scratchy and burns. A hand wraps tight around your neck much like a snake would constrict around its prey, cutting off your airflow entirely and causing panic to mix with pleasure and pain. It’s all blurred lines for you, fingers digging into the skin of his wrist as tears fall down your face and his tip brutally kisses against your soft cervix making your gut tighten with overwhelming warmth.

“Gonna cum? Already?” He sneers, tilting his head as black strands tickle against your exposed collarbones. You wish you could talk back, you wish you had the energy and dignity to not behave like a god damn pornstar. “Didn’t know y’were such a cheap whore.” He chuckles, humiliating you further as your walls flutter tight and milk his thick girth as your juices web out and leave a creamy ring around the base of his cock.

However he doesn’t stop, he keeps going and it’s too much to handle. You cry out once more, begging in such a sweet and pathetic voice that it would’ve worked on someone else— anybody else, besides Jeff.

“Expected me to stop?” He laughs, cock twitching against your walls and he’s so close you wonder how he hasn’t caved already. His hand releases your poor neck allowing you to breath right as black spots started to prickle the corners of your vision and your lungs were burning from lack of air. “You don’t get a break, slut. Now shut up and take it.”

[solarstqrs]

᯾HEARTBEAT᯾

yelan,nilou,furina x fem!reader(seperate)

minors nsfw dni!

cw:rope bunny(yelan) bondage(yelan) degrading and praise (duhh) cuniligus(nilou) hair pulling(nilou) strap on use (furina)finger sucking(furina&yelan)slight cock worship(furina) petnames

a/n: i relented and i wrote it…

Yelan

oo you knew better than to be bratty while she gambled with other paterons at her teahouse. rooms filled with top notch luxury and 8 pool tables the green table scratching your back.

Perky tits in the air aswell as your ass yelan cant help but tug at the string thats strangling your thighs and pretty tits in her eyes she chuckled softly at your expression her cold blue eyes boring into yours.

“Cute, you look pathetic bunny.”

she smirked wanting to gobble up your adorable form aswell as rip your tits nerve by nerve to make you feel all good. her hand landed on your mouths tapping your plump lips one by one

“is my pretty whore desperate?”

her eyes peered at your desperate filled ones possibily feeling some pity for you being all tied up just for her, You couldnt answer her question in time maybe it was from the embarssment you were facing by her cold stare

she sighed before shoving her fingers in your mouth

“Answer the question puppy, Are you desperate?”

you nodded the ropes tugging at your skin tightly, They were wet but goddamn they hurt like a bitch. Feeling yelans fingers twist and turn in your mouth is enough to finally beg her to fuck you

“im sofrwy” your mouth stuffed full of her digits

“thats not properly baby”

“pwlearse” is all you can muster up before feeling a kiss land on your forehead

“if my baby can say it properly ill loosen the rope and fuck you.”

it was enough to get you stimulated enough but this? it was gonna be a long n wet night indeed

nilou

“baby m’sorry go faster..” her breaths shuddered gripping your hair so tightly

she was so tired from overworking herself at the stage and dance everyone just can get on her nerves sometimes despite this she sucks it up know you’re gonna lick and suck her up behind those curtains whenever she asks

“n-mh..baby..” her voice is breaking all because of the way you’re tongue works on her slit licking up every drop of her sweet release as your forehead feels her shakey abdomen rise and fall each second and the heat radiating from it.

her blue shawl massacred under your preadatory gaze and hunger. You always needed a drop of nilou on your tongue shes so addictive so tasty you couldnt leave that behind despite every treatment gaven to her

shes is yours afterall.

“m-mH! love thats it!” her voice reaches its peak as your head full of hair is pulled with every ounce of strength nilou had left

“you did so good..c’mon just..one more please love?”

furina

“oh hoho!~ look whos crying over my cock now afterall?”

she smugly grinned at the shaking of your abdomen as the strap on was placed atop of it, It felt cold yet warm n fuzzy about what was gonna happen next

“please furina need your cock..” you whined furina was generally so sweet in bed fucking you just the way you want and listening to what you need but you messed with her on set and looks like your back to the drawing board

“say it.” her words were sharper than the blade she carried; justice and disguise

you looked at her and had a dust of pink dance on your cheek

“i need..need…i need your giant cock inside me lady furina..” you mumbled not wanting to say it aloud

“hm? oh whats that? i could’nt hear you love, Louder.” she responds more harsher than her last response

“i need your..i need your giant cock inside please furina I can’t” you finally whine out but still she had that stare

“L-lady furina..” you stumbled over your words this time it was impossible not to afterall she had this effect on you. She smirked and finally sighed opening your pretty thighs immdieatly.

“Maybe ill shut your pathetic mouth while im at it hm?”

she smiles at you all you can do is just take before she shoves her gloved hand your mouth.

“so filithy. Dont get my white gloves stainned with your words kay love?”

she smiles clutching your thigh expecting a response. As you nod desperatly she knows shes won so she sighs and smiles before aliging her with a piercing slam was so shocking you didnt even have time to register it.

“love..your gonna be good for me right? try not to shake to much hm? I dont want a replay of your bratty behaviour one bit.”

she smirked all you could do was nod knowing how bad you fucked up to piss the director off.

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Wriothesley — and his sudden favoritism

cw: spoilers for wriothesley's story quest, alludes to nsfw but no actual nsfw, lets pretend the Beret Society lounge is somewhere more hidden

an: im so tired and sleepy from uni but my wriothesley brainrot surpasses all human limitations

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

You've been aware of that for as long as you've stayed in the Fortress of Meropide. The Duke is just. He treats everyone equally, whether it be guards or prisoners. He'd never be on you as long as you get your job done and stay out of trouble.

That's why you didn't buy his words as you stood by his side, Dougier looking at you with a subtle threatening glare, one that shook you to your core unbeknownst to the Duke.

"You've been spending much time with them, Your Grace," Dougier spoke, his tone friendly, and so was the smile on his face, a demeanor that is foreign to you. "I just can't help but worry. After all, she's part of my precious society."

His words were laced with practiced concern, but you knew it was a thinly-veiled threat. Don't you dare blabber to His Grace.

"No need to worry," Wriothesley reassured with a calm tone and a smile, looking over at you, not bothering to hide the suggestive tone of his voice.

"They've just become my favorite, that's all."

Bullshit.

You can see the strained smile on Dougier's face as he said that, and you were powerless against these authoritative figures. One slip-up and you'll be censured by Dougier, and who knows what His Grace would do if he's the one you pissed off?

It was evident to you and Doougier what Wriothesley wanted from you, but neither you nor Dougier could ever hope to go against the Duke. Dougier isn't quite ready for that just yet.

"You don't mind, do you?" Wriothesley added, not even bothering to hide his threatening tone, and Dougier had no choice but to shake his head no.

"Good." Wriothesley seemed pleased with that, turning to face you with a smile on his face, his fingers brushing against your arm, tapping a pattern against your skin before whispering an "I'll see you around," loud enough for Dougier to hear, leaning back and his eyes meeting yours as if waiting for your response.

You only stare back at him, unsure of what to think about the sudden turn of events, and sensing that he wouldn't get a response, the Duke then turns to leave.

Ever since that day, much to Dougier's annoyance, he can no longer keep you in the abandoned zone that he has transformed into his base. Not with the Duke popping up randomly in the Beret Society lounge to ask for you every time.

And so, whenever Wriothesley graced your presence, his focus seemed to be effortlessly drawn toward you, his intentions leaving no room for subtlety even in the company of the other members—actors that Dougier planted to keep up the facade of the Society.

While you didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, a twinge of curiosity tugged at the corners of your mind; so many questions often danced in your thoughts, like a hidden undercurrent beneath calm waters weaving its way through your mind as you pondered the enigma that is the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide.

Wriothesley doesn't do favorites.

Wriothesley wouldn't just randomly start flirting with one of the inmates, knowing full well the power imbalance between them.

Surely, he doesn't want to get in your pants that badly?

This went on for a few days, Wriothesley would pop up, and you'd be there with some random member Dougier likely had tasked to ensure you wouldn't be spilling the beans to the Duke.

Until one day, surprisingly, there wasn't anyone else.

Still, the camera behind you was more than enough to keep you glued to the couch as Wriothesley enters.

The lounge lay silent, its once bustling atmosphere now empty, save for Wriothesley and yourself. His piercing gaze sweeps across the room, a mix of curiosity and anticipation filling the air.

"No one else today?" he muses, his voice laced with a hint of intrigue.

"No, no one else," you confirm, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. You clear your throat, feeling the weight of the Duke's undivided attention fixed upon you.

"Finally, our lucky day, huh?"

His words hang in the air, and before you can even respond, Wriothesley seizes the opportunity without hesitation.

In one swift motion, he lunges towards you, catching you off guard. Your body is pressed against the soft cushions of the couch while he looms above you, his presence consuming every inch of your being. His arms encircle you, caging you in a position that renders you breathless as you look up at him in surprise.

"I've seen the way you look at me," Wriothesley purred, his voice a seductive melody sending shivers down your spine. The raw desire in his tone leaves no room for doubt, and you find yourself rendered speechless, your widened eyes locked with his.

As he starts to lean closer, a sharp intake of breath escapes your lips, swallowing thickly, your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. The gentle caress of his lips against the delicate curve of your ear sends a tingling sensation coursing through your body, awakening every nerve. His voice, a velvet whisper, dances across your senses, but his words make your eyes snap open, pulling you out of your fantasy.

"Does it have a microphone?" He asks, his question delivered with a hushed tone that matches the closeness of his presence. The warmth of his breath grazes against your skin, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. Sensing your confusion at his question, he then added.

"The camera." He whispers, and you are even more surprised he was aware of it. "Does it have a microphone?"

"No... no, it doesn't." You whisper back,

"Can it see us right now?" He asks, voice much louder this time,

"Not fully, no." You respond, "Only you hunched over me, probably."

"Is he watching right now?"

"Y-Your Grace... I..."

"Dougier." Wriothesley's tone is more firm, "Is he watching right now?"

"He always is,"

A subtle shift in his position brings his nose tantalizingly close to the delicate expanse of your neck. His warm breath creates a delicate dance against your skin, refraining from making direct contact.

"Is this okay?" he murmurs against your skin, his voice laced with a hint of concern. The question hangs in the air, causing you to inhale sharply, the sensation of his warm breath against your neck sending a shiver down your spine. 

"Your Grace.... I don't understand..."

"I apologize for my behavior the past week." Wriothesley's tone is genuine as he apologizes, pulling away just enough for his icy gaze to meet yours. "I couldn't think of a way to talk to you while making sure Dougier wouldn't butt in halfway through."

He pulls back even more, his thighs now straddling your hips. His hands gracefully find their way to his tie, fingers deftly tugging at the fabric as he deliberately makes a show of loosening it. The tie slips from his grasp, cascading down to the floor, as his eyes remain locked with yours.

He dives back in, his face inches away from yours, and his warm breath dances along the surface of your skin, deliberately fooling Dougier from the other end of the camera, making him think that something is going on.

"As I said, I've seen the way you look at me," He repeats that phrase once again, shifting his position on top of you.

"You're always looking at me like there's something you wish to say, but you keep hesitating. Upon further investigation, I've noticed your gaze intensifies whenever Dougier is near you, but so does the fear in your eyes."

Your breath gets caught in your throat at his words, staring at him with a mix of surprise and amazement. You've been having thoughts of blowing Dougier's cover time and time again. You frequently see the Duke walking around the Fortress, and every time you do, you have the urge to approach him and just tell him what's been going on.

But you've always had your reservations. Dougier has some of the guards in his pockets, and Wriothesley supports the Beret Society, doesn't he? What if he doesn't believe you and tells Dougier about your attempts?

Just the thought of being caught and censured is enough to keep you to yourself, mouth shut tight like an obedient dog at Dougier's heel, looking longingly at the one person who can put a stop to your suffering and that of many others.

Unbeknownst to you, with every fleeting glance you cast upon Wriothesley, his icy gaze would return yours, a silent confusion and curiosity etched upon his face.

He wondered why your eyes carry an unspoken weight of perpetual struggle, as if drowning in an unseen tide. And he felt an inexplicable pull to extend a lifeline, offer solace, and rescue from the depths in which you've found yourself in.

Which brought you to your position now.

"I tried to send you subtle signs, waiting for you to approach me.." Wriothesley trails off before chuckling and shaking his head in light amusement. You blink at his words, that fateful day flashing back in your mind. The warmth of his hand against the skin of your arm, his fingers tapping against your skin. You hadn't noticed it then, but you do now.

Three short taps. Three long taps. Three short taps.

SOS

The look of bewilderment is obvious from the way your eyes widened. He'd been planning this from the start.

"I thought of taking you to talk in my office, but Dougier might get suspicious," he adds, his body shifting once again to keep up the act of something intimate happening. "Eventually, I knew I couldn't leave you to your own anymore."

Your gaze remains locked with his, and his own looks back at you with a mix of determination and warmth, wanting to reassure you and show you his determination at the same time.

"Tell me what's going on." He whispers, but his voice isn't a command. It was soft, still firm, but more on trying to reassure you than command you to do anything.

"Tell me everything, and I'll do all I can for you."

You find yourself gazing upwards, immersed in the shadowy depths, your eyes fixated on Wriothesley's figure. From the murky abyss, a hand stretches towards you, a lifeline amidst the suffocating darkness, beckoning you to resurface and breathe freely once more.

Yet, a hesitant pause lingers. Uncertainty clings to your heart like a fragile, delicate whisper that holds you captive, urging you to pause and consider the consequences.

Wriothesley, ever perceptive, notices your hesitance. He understands, all too well, that you can't save those who do not wish to be saved. Yet, he refuses to let go. With determination, he fights against the current, reaching out desperately, unwilling to let you slip through his fingers and deeper into the abyss.

"Tell me what it is that you're terrified of.." Wriothesely urges.

"No matter what or who it is, they will no longer be able to hurt you. I swear to you, on my name and honor as the Duke."

And finally, Wriothesley watches as with a trembling hand, you reach out to grasp his, intertwining your fingers, releasing the weight that had burdened your shoulders for far too long. It is as if he had lifted the weight of the world from your very being

He ignores the way his heart flutters at the sight of relief in your gaze, the edges of your lips turning up to a genuine, relieved smile, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

"The Beret Society... Dougier... it isn't what it seems to be."

Finally, you poured your heart out to him, telling him what's been happening under his nose.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

So this is an ongoing argument with my roommate. I (22nb) am autistic, and T (55f) has ADHD.

Now to get this out of the way, i do say thank you. I was always taught to wait a moment after receiving something, take a bite or appreciate what you were given for a breath, before thanking someone so that you could add something more to it. My roommate and I both agree that i do say thank you the vast majority of the time, but the problem for her is that i do not say it fast enough.

T often gives me a "tHaNk yOu" while the item in question is still being passed. This seems ridiculous to me as i haven't even been fully given it yet.

In addition, i have the dishes as my household chore, and i do them daily, despite almost never making any dishes myself. I do this to both support T and her diet, as well as contribute to the household that i live in.

T thanks me near daily for doing the dishes. This always seems weird and unnecessary to me, as it is my responsibility. I have told her this. I dont expect to be thanked for doing my own laundry, after all. In return, T gets upset that i dont notice and thank her for taking out the garbage/recycling/compost, to which she is the main contributor to and is under her responsibilities.

As for please: i do say this much more rarely. I think it feels overly preformative and fake, and i typical choose more "would you mind closing my door for me" "if its not too much of a hassle, could you toss me my waterbottle" "id appreciate it if you could preheat the oven while you're in the kitchen"

I think that these work perfectly fine as a replacement. Please just has always felt wrong and fake. No one else in my entire life has ever commented on this before.

Thirdly; T has been upset that i don't respond to her apologies appropriately. After she is snappy at me (due to her emotional disregulation from ADHD) (last time it was because i asked if she was using the oven instead of asking if i could use the oven myself, for reference) there is a 50/50 shot that she will come and apologize.

I dont often accept apologies. Apologies are for the person saying them to get it off their chests, or to make you put it behind them. Usually, ill say something like "it was just one of those days, y'know?" Or "its alright, water under the bridge"

Because i was always taught that apologies came with a promise of change, and T can't (or won't) change how she re-directs her frustration at unrelated things to things ive done "wrong". When she told me the correct response was "i forgive you", i decided to not engage instead of telling her directly that i didnt forgive her (because i am certain she will do it again). (I usually dont engage with her when shes irritated: she never notices and just wants to say her piece so im not being rude here)

She said that i was being disrespectful, "like always", and when i suggested it may be more difficult for me due to my autism, she said that we made plenty of accommodations for me (which i think is false), and that i just needed to do this for her comfort. That please/thank yous were something she needed to feel appreciated and i should be making more accommodations for her.

To me, i feel like she is getting really caught up on semantics and is being a little controlling about it. But maybe its just a boundary? I dont know if i could commit to changing my language for her though, i feel like i will just start forgetting after awhile because it feels so fake. Shouldn't it be better for me to say things genuinely than just for her approval?

AITA for not saying please/thank you?

[ellecdc]

im sorry for my devastating request of angst 😩 but you did them so beautifully and raw that im tearing up now thinking about vixen’s cereal bowl on the sink of their flat 🥲

🧍‍♀️ and because im nothing but a whore for sirius black … idk if ur up for steamy smutty fics (if ur not comfortable pls feel free to ignore!!!) but what about their first time together after the war and everything 👀 while i imagine it’d be fun and exciting, there’d still be some angst and tender moments after everything they’d been through, esp vix 😭 excited to see your take on this if its something you’re comfortable in writing!!

-🩷

Okay...I was like "I've read enough smut, I should be able to write it, right?" 💀 famous last words - I've never written smut before, so I apologize if it's trash. I'll know it's trash if no one ever requests smut again lmfaoooo

CBBH Sirius Black x Vix!Reader - first time after the war

⚠️CW: explicit sexual material, p in v intercourse, fingering, discussion of past non-con/sexual assault, first time having intercourse following non-con/sexual assault

Recommended 18+ // mdni

Sirius was stood up against your back with his arms around you as the two of you looked out into the Street of Grimmauld Place, swaying side-to-side to non-existent music as you watched traffic go by. 

His hands were sat on your hips while his thumbs idly dragged patterns across your skin. His face was positioned in its favourite place – the crook of your neck, as he pressed gentle kisses to the sensitive skin there.

“Sirius?” you asked quietly, interrupting the silence of your little townhouse oasis.

Sirius hummed in response, not lifting his lips from your skin.

“Do you want to have sex?”

Sirius paused all movements, standing stock-still. You turned around in his grasp, so that you were facing him but still in the safety in his arms.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” He said dumbly.

“Do you want to have sex?” you repeated plainly.

Huh, so he had heard you correctly.

“With you?” Oh Godric, someone kill him.

Thankfully, you had the grace to chuckle at his idiocy rather than be offended.

“Well, yes, that’s sort of why I was asking.”

The answer was yes – of course. Always. But it was also far more complicated than that.

Neither you nor Sirius had initiated anything more than sweet kisses and embraces since you returned. Sirius was wary of triggering you or pressuring you into something you were no longer interested in or hurting you unknowingly. 

It took you a few months to regain the majority of your memories from the war, and then a few more months working with both magical and muggle mind healers to begin working through your trauma. Lily had even been able to find a squib psychiatrist for you to see, so that you could discuss the full extent of your trauma without the risk of breaking the statute of secrecy.

All this to say – sex was a major milestone you hadn’t yet made in your journey to returning to ‘normal’.

“Well, of course, love. Yes. Why do you ask?” Sirius asked carefully, understanding this conversation was very important.

You sighed and began chewing on your lips as you looked past Sirius, thoughts apparently miles away.

Sirius used his thumb to gently pull your lip from between your teeth as you gathered the words.

“Because I do, I think. Want to. Have sex, that is.”

Sirius cocked his head at you. “You think?” he asked gently.

“No, I-I do. I... it’s hard to explain.”

“That’s alright, baby. Take your time.” He said as he began to resume rocking the two of you back and forth slightly, rubbing soothing circles on your lower back with his thumbs much like he had before you’d asked the question. 

“We... we used to have fun. I used to like it, having sex with you. And I want to, again. I’m a little scared but...it feels important.”

Sirius didn’t want to diminish your feelings, but he couldn’t help the quick shake of his head as he said, “It’s not important, love. It doesn’t have to be. Especially if you’re scared.” Quite frankly, Sirius would happily become celibate and live his life as a monk if it meant he got to keep you here with him.

You shook your head right back at him. “It’s important to me...the experience it was- it was stolen from me. I want it back; I want that sense of control over that experience again. I want it to be mine – ours - again.” 

“That makes sense.” He offered. You seemed to relax at his acknowledgment, glad to be understood.

“I don’t...I don’t think it’ll be easy.” You admitted shyly.

Sirius raised his hand to brush a lock of your hair behind your ear before placing his hand along your jaw; thumb dragging across your cheek bone whilst his fingers tickled the baby hairs behind your ear.

“That’s okay, beautiful. There’s no rush or penalty, okay? Whatever you want.”

He brought his lips to your forehead and left them there, still rocking you both back and forth like a gentle ship at sea.

“Can we try? Please?” You asked shyly into his chest. 

There was no need to beg, really. As ashamed as Sirius would be to admit it, his cock had been stirring beneath his trousers ever since you brought the idea up.

“Whatever you want, my love.” He repeated as he tilted your face up towards him so that your lips could meet.

They were long, slow kisses, that grew in depth with each parting. Soon, Sirius felt the tip of your tongue brush against his bottom lip, and he tried to suppress the grin that begged to overtake his mouth as he allowed you access into his.

It had been so long; so long since Sirius felt anything like this, so long since he’d done anything remotely intimate with another person, so long since he’d experienced the taste of you. What was before simply gentle twitching and half-soft was quickly become a raging boner in his pants as he continued to kiss you while you backed up towards the bed.

But he would not rush this – he would not, could not – get too excited. This was about you, for you. 

The back of your thighs hit the bed and you slowly sat down. Your chest was heaving slightly, and your lips look so pretty and kiss bitten. Your eyes were somewhat glassy, and Sirius could see the beginnings of trepidation making itself known in your eyebrows as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“Still okay, my love?”

You seemed to shake yourself from some kind of reverie as you nodded at him.

“Yeah?” He breathed, running his hands along your thighs before they migrated to your face, pulling you down towards him for more kisses.

“Can I take this off, pretty girl?” he whispered against your lips as he tugged on the hem of your shirt. You nodded your head yes.

You lifted your arms to help him ease your top over your head before you voluntarily moved to remove your trousers too.

“My beautiful girl.” He spoke in reverence at your form. You sucked in a deep breath and blew it back out, as if comforting yourself.

“Still okay?” Sirius asked.

“I’m okay.”

“You’ll tell me what’s okay? When to stop?”

“I will. Promise.” You agreed with a firm nod of your head.

“I’ve got you, my love.” He promised right back as he leaned back up to reach your face again, kissing you as you began to lay back onto the bed, Sirius following you as he stood between your knees.

Sirius started by gently rubbing his hands across your entire body, looking for signs of potential ‘no-zones’. Though his hands remained nothing but gentle, he noticed you tense when his grip moved over your neck.

Noted. 

He relished in the soft shivers and goosebumps that raised along your skin as his hands roved your body. He’d always found you so beautiful; soft skin with beautiful lightning bolts dotting various points of your body. He took an extra moment to press reverent kisses to the scar on your abdomen that ‘killed you’, the one on your thigh from saving James, and finally, the one on your arm that was used to shame, humiliate, and torture you into give the opposing side information that you refused to give.

Every line, every bruise, every mark; a symbol of your perseverance, your strength, and that you were in fact here – still alive – still his. 

Feeling emboldened by a soft moan that graced your lips as his fingers teased the space just below the waist of your panties, he moved his lips back up to yours.

“Can we take these off?” He spoke between kisses.

You lifted your hips in answer, helping him ease them off of you before he discarded them to the side.

He returned his face to yours, dotting kisses to your lips and face before trailing down the column of your throat. He kept his face there - close to yours for easy access as his fingers teased your folds.

Seemingly surprising to you both, your hips jerked forward in anticipation.

“D'you like this?” He asked into the shell of your ear as your legs opened for him and he began collecting your slick with his fingers, rubbing circles around your clit.

“Yeah.” You all but mewled in response.

“Doing so well, love. So good for me.” He praised as he continued kissing your jaw, sliding his middle finger in with little resistance on your end. 

He continued his ministrations, feeling beyond proud as your body continued to relax in his embrace – trusting him fully.

He slowly worked another finger in, crooking his fingers to find the spot you both were desperate for – he knew he was successful when your back arched to his touch.

“Sirius, there.”

“I know baby, I know.” He cooed, adding a third finger and zeroed in on your g-spot.

“I’m ready. I’m ready.” You panted after some time. “Please, Sirius, I want it – I want you.”

Sirius thought he’d come in his pants right there.

“You sure baby? I don’t want t-”

“Yes.” You moaned emphatically, and who was Sirius to argue?

“Okay, love. I’m right here, you’ve got me.” He said as he stood up to undress himself whilst you moved your body up towards the head of the bed.

Once he was fully unclothed, he slowly made his way to you, kneeling between your legs and leaning his arms down above your head, shielding you within his embrace.

“Still okay?” He whispered as he nudged your nose with his own.

You nodded. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

Sirius pressed a searing kiss to your mouth as he brought one hand down to his cock, silently casting a quick lubrication charm – not wanting to chance any friction or pain for your first time (back) with him.

He used the tops of his thighs to push your legs up and open a little wider and pressed his tip to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow, okay baby? We’ll take it slow.” He said as he applied a little bit pressure. He ignored the sensational feeling of your heat encompassing him as he watched your face for any signs of discomfort or discontent. 

He got about a quarter of his way in before he paused and brought his arm back up to your head to join the other. He massaged your temples with his thumbs as he pressed kisses into various parts of your face before slowly inching in further. 

You were letting out little puffs of air as he continued to coo at you.

“Doin’ so well love, so good for me.”

“m’doing good.” You murmured through a sigh.

Sirius hummed in agreement as he brushed some damp baby hairs away from your forehead, moving into you slowly until he was finally fully sheathed. He paused – as much for your comfort as for his own self-control (he’d probably die of embarrassment if he came right now) – and watched your face.

“I’m okay.” You repeated in a whisper, eyes shut tight as you turned your face away from him. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Sirius started to get anxious – not knowing who you were trying to convince; him, or yourself?

“Baby? Baby, love, look at me. Hey,” Sirius whispered gently, rubbing soothingly at your collarbone. “Look at me love, come ‘ere.”

He gently encouraged your face back towards him as you opened up your glassy eyes to meet his gaze.

You both took some steadying breaths as you held each other’s stare.

“It’s me, baby. It’s just me. I’ve got you, okay? You’re safe.” He promised. Your eyes seemed to clear after a few more breaths.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He kissed each of your eyelids in response.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

“I don’t want to stop.” You said clearly – leaving Sirius no reason to doubt your conviction.

“Okay, I’m gonna move, okay? You tell me what you need, baby, I’ll give it to you.” He promised as he slowly pulled out and pushed back in again.

You both groaned in unison – voices harmonizing in the dark - which made each of you chuckle.

“Oi! Stop wiggling, or this is going to be over before it even started.” He chided which made you laugh even more.

He couldn’t even be mad, seeing you spread out below him, skin glimmering with sweat and a bashful smile on your lips. You were beautiful, ethereal. Sirius was a goner.

He pulled out and moved in again, eliciting another moan from both of you, but you moved on swiftly as he began to pick up a gentle, steady pace.

There was of course an animalistic part of Sirius that was beyond excited at having this back with you; an urge to take you over and over and over again. But somehow, this was perfect, this is exactly what you both needed.

He hated that you felt so broken, he hated that those monsters had hurt you - violated you. But this gentle, sensual reconciliation between your bodies, the open discussion, the gentle kisses that both of you were pressing to the other’s trauma was exactly what you needed.

It felt like more than Sirius entering your body, far deeper than his cock could reach within you. It was slotting puzzle pieces back together that had been ripped away from each other violently.

He’d never let it happen again. 

Sirius’ mouth met yours as your tongues danced with each other. He moved his hands to your arms and pulled them over your head, holding them there as he continued to thrust into you.

You let out a few moans before your mouth pulled away from him, “wait, wait.”

Sirius paused all movements and stayed perfectly still. You tugged on your hands, and he released his grip on your wrists before you pulled your hands down to cover your face – breathing becoming erratic – you were crying. 

“Hey.” He said gently. “I’m sorry love, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry.” You said from behind your hands.

“Don’t be sorry love – tell me what’s wrong. What can I do?”

“I just felt trapped, I didn’t like it.” You said, lowering your hands but keeping them away from Sirius’ reach. 

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry – it won’t happen again.” He promised as he slowly brought his thumbs to wipe at your tears as they fell into your hair line.

You blew out a steadying breath as you closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius’ gentle hands on your temple as you calmed yourself.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked quietly.

“No.” You assured him with a shake of your head.

“Do you think you’d feel more secure if you were on top?” He asked instead.

You seemed to think about it before making eye contact with him again. “Yeah, maybe. That might help.”

Sirius beamed down at you. “Okay baby, I’ll slide out and we’ll reposition, okay?”

He pulled himself out and you moaned almost pathetically at the loss. He moved to the head of the bed and readjusted the pillows so that he was sat up right before patting his thighs.

“I’m all ready for you, love.” He said as he smiled at you.

You crawled over, looking painfully shy all of a sudden, and Sirius couldn’t help but tease you about it.

“Don’t be going shy on me now, lovely. You were making some of the most beautiful sounds I’d ever heard just moments ago.”

“Sirius!” You whined as you gently swatted his chest.

His smile never faltered as he helped you straddle his lap before easing you back down onto his cock.

“Okay, hang on for a second.” He said as he held your hips in place once you were flush with his, not allowing any movement.

You would have tormented him for this in another life – teasing him for getting too excited, too worked up. But you just smiled down at him lovingly.

Eventually, he looked back up into your eyes and released his hold on your hips, hands supporting you as you began to move up and down on him.

“Atta girl. Fuck, you look so beautiful up there. Gods, how did I ever go without you.” He whispered in awe. His words had your face heating up, and Sirius could see the colour migrate all the way to your chest as you threw your head back. 

He looked down to the place where your bodies connected, watching as he would disappear inside of you over and over and over again. He brought his thumb to your clit and began massaging it, worshipping at the sounds emanating from your mouth.

“Yeah baby? Like that?”

You moaned what he understood as a yes as he brought his other hand to your tit, pinching the nipple there and placing your other nipple in his mouth. Then he sucked hard.

“Oh, fuck!” You keened.

He moaned back as he kept sucking, moving his mouth back and forth to give each of your breast’s equal attention.

“I- oh god. I’m – are you close?” You asked him.

Sirius wasn’t sure how to say that he was close all the way back when you asked him if he wanted to have sex, so he settled for “you have no idea, baby. Why?”

“I’m close.” You cried, moving your hands to his shoulders as you brought your face to his, kissing him passionately. He pulled you forward by the hips so that you were leaning most of your weight on him through your arms, and placed his hands on your ass as he began to thrust himself up into you.

“This okay?” He asked breathlessly.

“Yes.” You moaned.

“You gonna come with me baby? Huh? Come with me, come on beautiful, come with me.” He continued to chant between kisses as your gasps and murmuring turned into one, continuous long moan.

He felt the tell-tale signs of you clenching around him as he picked up his pace, returning pressure to your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck me, beautiful. Oh fuck, come on. Come for me. Come for me.” He begged, working overtime to ward off his own orgasm until you had yours.

He needn’t wait long, however, as his words pushed you over the edge and your careened forward, pushing your face into the crook of his neck as you cried out through your orgasm.

Your walls clenching sealed the deal and had his cock throbbing; coating your cervix with come.  

You both sat gasping, both his cock and your walls twitching with aftershocks every so often as you both came down from your highs. He kissed your shoulders and rubbed your back waiting for you to return to him when he felt a wet spot grow on his shoulder.

“Baby?” He whispered. You sobbed in response.

Fear grappled at him as he felt his heart fall out of his ass. He reared his head back and moved you from his shoulder to find tears staining your face.

“Love! Love, what’s wrong?” He whispered, completely horrified at your distress.

You smiled sadly and let out some laughs. “I’m sorry, I’m not sad.”

Sirius felt his stomach unclench and felt like he could throw up in relief.

“I did it.” You whispered mostly to yourself.

Suddenly, he understood.

This was a milestone. This was not just a small step towards normality – this was a huge accomplishment. This was bigger than accepting help, this was bigger than talking to a therapist, this was bigger than all of it.

This was you taking back control. This was you taking something that terrified you, but persevering because it was important to you that you have it. This was you being nervous but advocating for yourself the entire way through. 

Sirius felt like his soul would combust from the amount of pride he felt for you. Every time he was certain he loved you as much as any person could possibly love someone, you go and do something fucking phenomenal, and he’s left to rearrange his entire being to accommodate the amount of love coursing through his veins.

He'd happily do that for the rest of his life. 

“You did.” He agreed, pushing back pieces of your hair from your face.

“I didn’t...I didn’t think I could.” You admitted.

Sirius shook his head. “I did.”

“You did?”

“Mhm.”

“How?”

Sirius scoffed as if you said something completely ridiculous. “Because, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never not been able to do something you set your mind to.”

You beamed at him. “Stubborn.”

“Tenacious.” He said as he pinched your side. 

“Obstinate.” 

“Mine.”

Your teasing smile turned soft. “Yours.” You agreed which was quickly followed by a yawn.

Sirius gently massaged your sides as he slowly lifted your weight up and his softening cock slipped out of you.

“Let’s go clean up so we can go to bed.” He said as he stamped a kiss to your temple. 

You took turns lathering soap on the other’s body and enjoyed the spray of the warm water as you swayed to more nonexistent music and shared tender kisses. He was being unbelievably soft with you, but he knew if he allowed his joy, excitement, and pride to overcome him; he’d have you bent in half against the shower wall.

You’d come a long way, but he was quite sure you weren’t there yet.

That was fine by him though; you had the rest of your lives to work your way there.

...

James made his way down the hall as he carried a muggle frozen dinner in his hands, re-reading the instructions on the back.

He knocked on your and Sirius’ bedroom door but didn’t wait for a response before he opened it up.

“Hey, do you think we can cook this magically since we don’t have a mic-or-oh-wave? Lily said no, but I thought-” He paused as he saw you and Sirius, both with damp hair under the covers intertwined in each other’s embrace.

He realized then that the room smelt warm and... heady...

“Oh my gods. Did you guys have sex!?” He squealed loud enough to wake the entire house.

“PRONGS!” 

[thebestandrealestever]

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE.

PROWLER MILES X BLACK CAT READER?!!

but its also on sum miraculous lady bug type time and they like go to school tg n shit🙏🏽

YURRRRRRRPTTT IM LISTENING 🧎🏽‍♀️🧎🏽‍♀️

i been trying to write this since i got the request but i got fucking croup and my voice is gone . 😐

hope u like pookie 🤭🫶🏽

~HEY KITTY!~

prowl miles x black cat reader! black reader if u squint. warnings: I CNAT WRITE DIALOUG LMAO, cursing, use of n word, suggestive joke. a/n: YURRRR WHEA THE HOESSS AT YEAYUHHH welcome back to my channel w another slammer!! yo hair white weather it b braids, locs, straight curly idgaf but it’s white ! IMAGINE MILES MASK IS LIKE CAT NOIRS MASK OKAY?? heavily unedited so don’t b tryna crack a funny yk what i be tryna say. i can’t write dialogue.

you’re standing on the glass roof looking in the window at the auction below you, eyeing the very expensive pair of emerald earrings your mother would appreciate for her birthday you see another figure walk up next to you, “hey kitty. what u see in there?” and u glance on your right to see your competition, who was also your partner in crime, who was also one of your school friends but you didn’t know that yet. “the diamonds, a lil sum nice for my moms birthday” you said signaling at the worker who was holding them under a silver platter, miles hummed in response. “what about you pretty boy? i didn’t think you were into jewelry” miles chuckled dryly “i’m not usually, only if it’s for somebody special” he glanced over to you as you smiled to yourself while looking down, not oblivious to his tone of voice, “dude over there?” he pointed to a man who was shaking as he walked to the back door. “mhm” “he’s got some oxy, gunna give it to the hospital.” you looked at man miles was talking about almost forgetting your own plans “damn, i lost her.” “naw, she went inna kitchen.” you scanned the area for her sighing in relief when you found her. “what would i do without pumpkin?” miles looked at you while you crawled over to the other side of the roof, following you. you used your clawed finger to crack a hole big enough to fit you through it on the glass tile. miles stared daggers into you. “you coming?” you asked carefully picking up the glass circle and putting it next to the hole. as you put your hood on so your hair dangling wouldn’t be noticeable you entered the hole crawling on top of the ceiling slowly but surely, miles was right behind you and you both crawled all the way to the back hallway where nobody was looking. you both dropped down on your feet and when you saw a server walk into the bathroom you realized your all black leather suit wasn’t for the occasion. “i’m gonna go change into something less noticeable, you should too” you said tugging on his collar and miles looked u up and down one more time and you parted ways.

“hey kitty. u ready?”miles said as he walked up to you with a suit that looked identical to yours but he still has his mask on, you put your hand on his neck and leaned into his ear, “depends on what you’re talking about pretty boy.” “oh you could never be ready for that kitty” “what you think i can’t take it” miles huffed and you both went to the kitchen to grab a plate or something, miles saw the man he was looking for and followed him and you went to the main room to find those diamonds . after people starting realizing the diamonds and medicine were gone the alarm system went off and people were chasing you and miles, you climbed onto the roof and miles grabbed your waist to carry you as he swung from building to building with his ropes. “you found what you were looking for?” miles as and you flashed him a smiling dangling the earrings in front of his face. “that’s my girl” he said smiling as you swung onto a building where they wouldn’t find y’all. he landed on the edge letting you go and you almost stumbled off of it, he caught you wrapping his arm around your waist and kissed you, after you broke it you still stayed like for a moment catching your breath. “didn’t know you were such a good kisser” ”it’s a lot you don’t know kitty.” the moment ruined by the sound of a police siren signaling it was your time to go. you swiftly stole one of his gadgets without him noticing to give him a reason to see you again and you kissed his cheek. “this was fun pumpkin, come see me soon yea? later mr prowler” “see you kitty.” he said as he swung off to wherever he was going and you went back home thinking about him the whole way there. the next morning you were in school, you had prowlers little silver hook in your backpack in case you saw him again that day. as you walked in to your 4th period you sat next to miles. you were in the same friend group but hardly ever talked. you always thought he was fine asfc tho. “hey miles” you smiled as were looking for any excuse to not look at had to not look at him because he made u fold by js being there, you bent down to grab a notebook out of your backpack. “hey (name), how yo morning goin?” he said his voice coated with the light syrup of his accent, the one that made your cheeks hurt with how much you were smiling . “good, u?” you and miles talked the whole class and as you were walking out the door pushing past people you tripped and miles caught you, just like how prowler did last night. could he..? no. that’s crazy he couldn’t be. you thought as you looked into his eyes and thanked him, as the both of you walked in the hall he spoke up breaking the slightly awkward silence . “you wanna get lunch together? off campus maybe” “yea!” you nodded vigorously jumping at the chance to hang out with miles. as you were sitting down outside eating lunch with miles there was suddenly a smoke bomb being set off in the bank across the street and everyone started yelling and running and chaos was everywhere. you got up and looked into the bank, you turned around and miles was gone. you took this as your chance to suit up and investigate, when you got back you saw ur prowler and strolled up to him fondling the hook you took from him in your hands.

“hey kitty, can i have that back?” “mmm only if you say pretty please” you said moving dangerously close to him almost forgetting why you were here in the first place, he grabbed the hand you were holding the hook in harshly as he looked deeply into your eyes, his gaze flickered down from your eyes to your lips before trying to picking the hook up with his free hand but you quickly moved your entire arm back, unintentionally pushing your body closer to his, y’all quickly back away from each other after what felt like a lifetime pressed against him, as he turned around to walk you realized you no longer had the hook and found it in his hand. you smirked to yourself as you followed him into the bank and picked up the smoke bomb before showing it to miles, “what u think this is made of? vibranium maybe?” miles shrugged as he looking around the empty bank, nothing was taken but the vault door was wide open. maybe they backed out he thought as he walked into the vault looking around it. you could tell something was on his mind, like he was rushing to get out of here.“you okay pooh?, you’re acting really weird, almost like you don’t wanna be here no mo” you asked with playful lilt trying to not make it seem to obvious how nervous you were that the latter was true, moving up behind him looking around the vault swiping one or 2 bands . he just hummed “yea i’m fine it’s just- yo whoever did this is weird asfc. they ain’t even take nun.” he laughed as he closed the vault hoping you didn’t detect the obvious avoiding of her questions and walked into the alleyway so he wouldn’t be seen by the public. “so you know i was wondering, will you ever show me who u are?” you said walking behind him messing with the things on the back of his suit. “maybe one day, only if you say pretty please” referencing the conversation you had earlier,you both smile at each other “i gotta go kitty cat, see you later” he turned the corner and left before you couldn’t even say bye “bye…” and the reason miles was he was rushing the whole ‘mission’ was so he could get back to you, but you didn’t know that.

[fauustic]

crimson staining the cement

i needed to get this out of my system before i sleep ... i have so many thoughts of a very in love but obsessed/possessive miguel who is just too jealous and overprotective but is still a sweetheart.

im still taking requests so please do feed my imagination

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara drabble

warnings: depictions of violence, poessiveness, overprotection in the term of obsession. jealousy. blood, biting. definitely something i haven't wrote about a lot.

Miguel knew that underneath his constant need for your affection and reassurance, he was a jealous, jealous man.

Beyond his stoic expression conveyed to anyone other than you, the moment another individual other than him made advances towards you his jaw would tense and his talons instinctively unsheathe into his palms. His mind blanks at the idea of someone invading the space that only he is allowed to occupy.

It's not like he feels as if he owns you, his anxiety and worries stem from feeling as if you are too out of reach for him, on a whole different dimension because you were human and lively, everything he was not. Miguel O'Hara, a shell of who he was once before, viewed himself as something grossly supernatural and devoid. In his mind, your companionship was a necessity for him to live. He's never felt more alive than with you, and now that he's had a taste of what he's been missing he can't seem to detach his fangs from you, his prey caught by the neck.

So when he's pushing his way through a crowd of scientific elitists and spots some prick practically hovering over you with a sneer, an absolutely primal rage floods his vision and the only thing he can think about is you and ripping the rich pervert limb from limb. And Miguel truly was contemplating the idea until your anxious scouting finally pinpointed him, in which he assumed you excused yourself with haste because of how quickly you departed from the prick before pushing through the crowd to reach his embrace.

Miguel hated settings such as this, being dragged to go to social gatherings due to his position at his job, but the only reason he dragged himself to come was because of you. You urged him to try and do the things he hated, pressed him to experience new things. And he allowed it, with the only condition that you had to be strung along with. With a smile, you always more than happily agreed.

Yet everytime the two of you arrived at a fancy getup, someone stupid enough to bother you had to interrupt your happiness. Which ultimately ruined his contentment.

Miguel was never mad at you, could never bring himself to hurt you unless it was the marks he made with loving bites and harsh kisses. 

But he was not below hurting someone to make a statement. And when someone got hurt, they had to be silenced because then they knew too much.

It never bothered Miguel much to dispose of those who hurt you, who sunk their blunt nails into your flesh and made you nauseated from their unwanted creepy flattery. He was just doing what he needed to do, protecting his responsibility. Get rid of the problem, no?

As his fists met the sickening crunch of cartilage and bone, the street lights painted his figure into a canvas filled with glistening crimson. It was a gruesome masterpiece, he thought. Like a spider trapping a fly, poking its tendrils against its food like a toy.

When his instincts overdrive his rationality, he doesn't think of himself as Miguel O'Hara anymore. He was simply the predator that crafted his genetics, the spider that altered his being.

The tear of skin as talons claw into the marred flesh of another elitist scum, who just hours before had the audacity to belittle what you wore in Miguel's earshot, calling you unsavory things such as a "whore, or slut." He had been itching all night to get his hands on the pathetic lump of a man, yet when his red-clouded gaze fell upon the mess against his crisp, standard black suit vest tailored around a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. 

Wiping the blood splatter off his cheek with a swipe of his arm, Miguel spat on what was left of the man who viewed you, and probably many others, as an object of desire and nothing more. It made him sick.

He'd clean up before arriving to your flat, a place where he found himself most comfortable within. Without you, his own home felt frigid. A mirror of who he was, which he hated the idea of being alone in.

So when you felt your boyfriend's arms wrap around your hips in the softness of your duvet, you were blissfully unaware of just what he was doing earlier that night. His fangs sunk into your unexposed shoulder, a purr vibrating against the bite as fuzziness soothed his haunting thoughts.

It was common for him to sink his teeth into you as a form of relief after long days, your body growing used to the intrusion. 

"Love you so much, my darling." You murmured into your pillow, mind foggy with sleep as he unlatched himself from you just to bury himself in your chest. His nails scratched your back, tracing stars and circles mindlessly as he purred.

"Love you so much more, mi vida." His grip on you tightened subtly, "would do anything for you and more."

You simply giggled in response to his declaration, calling him a big teddy bear, before brushing your fingers in his soft curls. Giving him a sweet peck on his lips and one last lingering kiss to the nose, the two of you drifted to sleep with nothing on your mind but one another.