#One Way to Get Out of a Room You Can't Get Out of

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining waking up in a dog pile of the 141.

Like, the safe house only has one bed and it's fucking disgusting. You've already seen a rat and cockroaches scurrying off in the dark corners of the room. There's no way in hell ANY of you are willingly sleeping on the floor.

So instead you take off all of your gear, leave it on the floor, and pile up together on the (definitely not) king size bed. It's an extremely tight fit, but it "works". You're on top of Gaz and half under Ghost but you're so fucking tired you don't mind. In fact, you pass out the moment your head hits the mattress.

The next morning you wake up stiff and out of it. You squirm and roll around, completely confused. You don't immediately remember where you are. Sticky limbs beneath your body jab into your back. There's a shoulder pressed uncomfortably hard into the crook of your neck. You try to get up but you can't find any leverage. The man beneath you moves and you fall even deeper into the half-awake tangle of limbs. You groan, trying to stretch your legs but one is hooked around another pair and the other is squeezed between a muscular set.

You squirm around some more but suddenly you feel more limbs touch at you. They're against your thighs, one against your rear. You shimmy, hoping to finally unlock yourself from the pile but you only manage to sink even further into it.

There's no escape.

[servicpop]

✶ ﹑ㅤlate nights ﹏

NOW STARRING : hockey bf Suguru x male!reader

「ㅤNSFWㅤ」ㅤyour boyfriend can't help himself before the big game, he has some sort of jinx!

✙ warnings — thigh fucking, size difference, use of "prince," hand-job

notes ,, tbh I know nothing about hockey i just wanted to make an au with suguru that isn't just the normal jjk plot... / also this was inspired by Jinx manhwa... the sex jinx thing you know

1:00 AM

The room is cloaked in the silence of the night; the soft light of the moon filtered through the half-closed blinds casting gentle shadows across the walls. The air is still, filled with the faint scent of lavender from the nearby candle. On the bed, you and Suguru lay intertwined, your bodies molded together with you as the little spoon, and Suguru as the big spoon. The soft fabric of the sheets cocoones the both of you in warmth as you find solace in each other's embrace. At this point you're already fast asleep, lulled into a deep slumber as you lay in Suguru's arms. However, no matter how hard he tried to push the growing heat beside, he was kept awake from the raging boner he had.

With one arm wrapped around your waist while the other propped his head up, he watched your chest rise and fall steadily. You looked so peaceful. The pale hand placed on your waist snaked down to your thigh, caressing it slowly. "Hey, wake up, prince" He shook you awake gently, not wanting to jolt you awake but his saccharine, honeyed voice was enough to pull you back to sleep. A light hearted chuckle left his chest when he saw your sleepy eyes blink to conciousness, and the way your nose scrunched like a kitty was adorable to him.

Suguru's palm kept massaging your thigh as his breath tickled your neck, "I can't sleep," He whispered, groaning softly when his hips involuntarily grinded against your ass. It was an accident he swears, it wasn't his fault he couldn't sleep because of his erection... it didn't help how you were still half asleep, trying to process what was happening. You realised immediately when you felt something poke your back. "I'm tired..." you mumbled, your words barely reaching Suguru's ears. It was 1am, of course you'd be tired. "How about your thighs? I'll do all the work," you knew Suguru had a thing for your thighs, he would always squeeze and grope them any chance he got. He mentioned something about how it was the warmest and softest part of your body but you never really understood his rambles.

"You have a game tomorrow, Suguru," You scold but don't push away his grabby hands. You know about his "jinx" but to be honest it was most likely just an excuse to fuck you before games; it was probably a way for him to get rid of his stress. "I won't win if I don't feel you," He groaned, his fingers dipping in-between your thighs, trying to hoist them apart. At this point you let him, too overcome by your sleepiness to care.

The noise of fabric shuffling filled the otherwise quiet room as Suguru slots himself in between your thighs, pushing your plush flesh together to secure him. You could tell he enjoyed it as you heard a shaky and breathy moan from behind you. To be honest, you got off on it too, seeing the way his tip would peak out from in-between your thighs. You always knew he was big but it never failed to suprise you each time.

Slowly, Suguru moved his hips in a thrusting motion, drawing them away before pushing back in with a small noise of his skin making contact with yours. His breaths stuttered with each movement and his hands wandered up your shirt, caressing and feeling your stomach underneath his fingertips. Suguru wasn't extremely vocal but with the small grunts and huff he lets out when he's enjoying himself... drives your body insane and you can't help but grow aroused as well.

"You lonely?" Suguru chuckled, his hands moving down to the waistband of your pyjama pants. With a small mumble of 'there we go,' he slips off your pants, tossing them aside carelessly. He continues his thrusting, slipping his dick in-between your thighs rhythmically. With every thrust, you could feel Suguru's cock slip along the underside of yours. It was such a light feeling that it almost tickled. Suguru coos in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that barely register in your sleep-ridden brain. All you can focus on is his warm palm trailing to your cock. His hand clamps around you as he cradles it in his hand for a bit, allowing you to really feel the warmth from his hand. God you were already leaking. "Hah... feels good Sugu'"

"Does it now?" he hums in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone, but the way his hands pumped your cock was far from innocent. His movements get faster, his hips went from slow and calculated thrusts to slamming his hips against the back of your thighs, chasing his pleasure alongside with your own. Both his hand and his dick sliding in between your thighs made whimpers slip out your lips. Suguru uses his other hand to hold you close to him, pressing his palm flat against your stomach to push you flush against his body.

"Gonna come," he grunts, his voice getting louder and more raspy as he keeps thrusting. The hand wrapped around your cock was still pumping with vigour, like he wanted you to lose yourself with him. Your voice wavers as moans flow out of your throat — Suguru's hands are way too skilled for their own good. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and your cock twitches in Suguru's hand. Your tip is so red its practically begging for him to have mercy but he doesn't stop. He wants to see your pleasure as much as he wants to feel you. Suguru's voice breaks slightly as he groans, white spurting out of his dick and coating your thighs as well as the sheets. He keeps pumping his hand until he feels you pulse and twitch before you come, "Mm... good boy, yeah just like that."

With a few more slow thrusts, Suguru finally stopped. He wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug-like way, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. He littered kisses all over your cheek and your jawline before speaking, "I'll do well tomorrow, thanks prince," Suguru chuckled softly, letting his eyes close while he settled down with you to catch up on the sleep he missed beforehand.

♡ little gift — X nsfw video that inspired this !!

a/n : this was meant to be an oc fic but decided I wanted it to be suguru...

[caraphernellie]

can you write something about reader and ellie being in a new relationship! they’ve only had sex a few times and in this particular instance, ellie finds out reader has a praise kink. soft dom!ellie pls<3333

MEOWWWWWW this 😭 is 😭 the cutest 😭 idea 😭 ever 😭😭😭 softdom!ellie my favouritest ever. you will almost always find me writing softdom!ellie. um also this ended up being way longer than i intended! so... this was meant to be like, a blurb. a few paragraphs. it's over 900 words. yeah

cw: softdom!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r!receiving), finger sucking, overstim, looooots of sappy praise !!

　　　　　mdni  ,  nsfw  under  the  cut  ౨ৎ

"shh shh shh."

soft coos echo in the room, ellie trailing tender kisses up your stomach. the love is so fresh that the two of you can't help but be a little shy still, though, you more than ellie. the girl was glad to get her hands on you the very first time you'd let her. 

weeks later and she's just as enthusiastic, though reminding herself to steer things slower and gentler. you're still learning so much about each other, like what sets or ruins a mood, what's strange but stimulating, and especially for ellie – she's paying close attention to learning just how much you can take.

slicked fingers prod at your lips and without a second thought you part them. the fingers flatten on your tongue, and ellie's lips curl upwards when you accept it with a pleased hum.

"you can taste yourself, can't you?" she whispers, nipping at the skin of your jawline. the room's almost dead silent, aside from honeyed words and the lewd sounds of you sucking her fingers. "doesn't it taste good, babe? uh-huh… i know."

eager with her hands, ellie's had no issue with the physical aspect of sex. but this is the first time she's been so verbal in the moment, and she's already picking up on the difference it's making. what an effect it's having. and all it does is go straight to her head. a steep boost to that ego of hers, which to be fair, could use one.

ellie slides her fingers out of your lips and chuckles to herself, smearing spit over them, thinking about how pliable and docile you are three orgasms deep into her bed.

"just gotta have a taste," she murmurs, so close to your ear that you can feel her breath fan against you. it's so warm, as is the rest of the room, the scent of sex ruminating in the air. she dips down, resting back between your legs.

she's so focused until your hand paws at her head, taking grip of her hair, and you mumble the tiniest, "too sensitive, don't think it's a good idea, so–"

"oh, no baby, you can take it," ellie encourages, a less cocky and more reassuring smile left on her face now. "you're so good at taking what i give you, i think you can handle this. just one more for me, yeah?"

holy shit. the reassurance has such an effect– you feel it hard as you attempt to let go and let ellie continue. she pays no mind at first, hands languidly pushing apart your thighs, handfuls squishing at your skin. and yet your mind is still lost over her words. she's been borderline worshipping you all night and yet you're beginning to realise that what is setting tonight apart from all the others is her being so verbose. the praising of your body and your submission – the voice in which she says it and you can tell she means it.

first, she tucks that one temperamental strand of hair back behind her ear, and then she licks a tentative stripe down your soaked pussy. 

before your shaking hand takes leisure in ellie's hair – which she knows would end in fruitless tugging – she catches your hand in hers. "that's it, pretty girl. mmh, i know it's so intense, but you're gonna lay here and take it all, ain't that right?"

you nod so fervently, squeezing ellie's hand. she's definitely been beginning to notice this sudden affinity for her praises. it's amusing, yet at the same time, so rousing. 

a soft kiss against your clit has you bucking your hips closer, yet your hips want to wriggle away. you can't tell what you even want. but that's okay, isn't it? ellie's already decided for you.

thumbing at your clit now, ellie gives you a wide grin, watching you struggle and writhe. "oh, is that too much?" she watches you shake your head, admiring the look of sweet determination on your face. "no? good girl."

she all but dives into your cunt, lapping and sucking your cum like she's starving. she won't stop until you've covered her face in it. she's making careful, very intentional use of words now– rasping them against your hot skin so that you truly, physically feel her praise. feeling your hand squeeze hers so tight eggs her on, her eyes boring into your own. ellie watches you try at anything to ease the overstimulation, your free hand grasping and squeezing your tit. she listens to your mewls and moans over the sounds of her slurping your pussy.

"that's it, baby," ellie coos, "i know, i know. you're being so fuckin' good for me."

"ellie," you sigh, she can see it clearly, how fast your breathing picks up and how your legs threaten closure around her head. "ellie, oh, oh my god."

"you taste too sweet, baby," ellie muses, watching it all go right to your head. the way your eyelids droop, you're close. 

this has been her greatest bedroom discovery yet. with you teetering on the edge of orgasm, she makes her next words count, her voice reverberating against you. "be a good girl now, cum for me."

[ozzgin]

Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu

Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)

Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D

Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW

[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]

The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.

Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.

"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."

You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:

"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."

He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.

"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”

Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.

“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.

“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”

“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.

You sigh.

Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.

How's your life with Zzy going?

You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?

On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”

If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”

Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.

As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.

Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.

"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.

"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"

"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."

You sigh once more and roll over.

"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.

"Just go to sleep. Or something."

[starrynights-sunnyskies]

as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa rodriguez x putellas!reader, social media au, (4/6)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: coming

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marisabel_rguez: Back to basics 🤩 Liked by alexiaputellas, ireneparedes4, yourusername and 18,837 others

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alexiaputellas 😇

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yourusername: getting back my spark 🙈 Liked by patri8guijarro, claudiaapina, marisabel_rguez and 1,349 others

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↳ 42min ago: yourusername just added to their story

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↳ 35min ago: marisabel_rguez just added to their story

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↳ 56min ago: yourusername added to their story

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marisabel_rguez: Good days ahead 🔜❤️☀️🌴🌊😎 Liked by yourusername, sofie.svava, ivanaandres5 and 16,323 others

sofie.svava And you better go and enjoy it to the fullest!

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↳ 11h ago: marisabel_rguez added to their story

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↳ 7h ago: yourusername added to their story

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↳ 1h ago: yourusername added to their story

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username1 okay, hear me out: yn was watching the men's national game against england on her story, a) when has she ever watched a game when ale or one of their friends weren't playing or it wasn't an important match? b) two cups on the table, c) the air forces on the carpet, which misa was wearing in her story this morning, d) they're BOTH hopping onto a plane on the SAME day??? username1 am i delusional or getting somewhere? 😭 username2 No you're not delusional, I screenshot Yn's comment on the tattoo post weeks ago right before she deleted it lmao username3 SHARE!! username1 i mean, the season's over so they are all on break and travelling somewhere username4 Yeah but they're usually going somewhere together. So if Misa's not on those pics with the others, we know where she's hiding, in putellas jr's arms 😂 username6 lmao I can't believe y'all did not see yn wearing the headphones in her latest story that was also in misa's story earlier today 🙃 username1 wait wait what lemme check- username3 gfs sharing things aka happy wife happy life username7 Okay sooo how popular is that brand exactly? You're all delulu. username4 Let us have this one 🤣😫

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yourusername: when the stars make you drool just like a pasta e fasule, that's amoreeee. 📍somewhere in italy. Liked by sakinakarchaoui, marisabel_rguez, victoriapelova and 2,489 others

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marialeonn16 You and your pasta 😛 ↳ yourusername what can i say? i like saucy seasoned carbs

bff1 i see you picked up that hoodie after all ↳ yourusername thought it should go back to its original owner 😌

username1 how rude of you to not tag misa 😭 liked by yourusername

bff2 Girlieeee, yessss! Happy days are finally here 😘🌤 ↳ yourusername i love you!!

albaps9 when were you going to tell me you met a hot italian?? is this how i had to find out you got some action? now i know why you wanted another solo trip 👀 ↳ yourusername weren't you the one to tell me not to bother you with lovey-dovey stuff so long as you're single? so, SHUT UP. ↳ albaps9 omg ew, i don't like you sassing me, mini-me 😫 ↳ alexiaputellas What goes around...! ↳ yourusername I learned from the best tho!!! ↳ albaps9 🥹

bff3 Did you go to that gelato place I told you about? ↳ yourusername YES! THANK YOU.

sofiacantoree Hope Italy treated you well! 😊 liked by yourusername

juliagrosso7 Omg no way, I wish I had known 😢 ↳ yourusername rain check? i'm definitely coming back. ↳ juliagrosso7 Yes, please!

alexiaputellas I hope you didn't fall asleep while sunbathing again, tomato! ↳ yourusername ONCE! it happened only once ): ↳ alexiaputellas Besos from mama and stay safe 😘 ↳ yourusername tell her i love and miss her ↳ alexiaputellas She knows ❤️

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marisabel_rguez: Relax mode ON 😊☀️ Liked by leilaouahabi, alexiaputellas, bff1 and 17,843 others

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alexiaputellas Enjoy 🤩

username2 🧐 ↳ username3 👀 ↳ username4 🕵️‍♀️ ↳ username2 yea this is not coincidental at all, they don't care anymore, or ever have 🤣 ↳ username2 soft launch? ↳ username3 at least now we know she's not with the other girlies on team vacay lol ↳ username4 Thought we were passed that stage already 🙂 ↳ username2 no real photos yet so no, we're not

mariona8co Who took the photosssss?????? ↳ jennihermoso Yeah, spill the beans MISA !! ↳ ireneparedes4 Her not-lover jajajaja ↳ mariona8co 🤣😭 ↳ jennihermoso Jajaja ↳ alexiaputellas She must be special if she ditched us for her! 😜

leilaouahabi Have fun 😉

sofie.svava aaaah have so much fun!! you two deserve this 👯‍♀️

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Direct Messages

albaps9 hello maria isabel. albaps9 tell me, does my sister still hog all the bedsheets while she's sleeping? albaps9 and while i'm at it, tell her i'll kill her if she scratches my sunglasses albaps9 and you, if you hurt her in any way. accidental or not. vale? Seen

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a/n have a lovely weekend everyone🌻

[saturnsorbits]

Skintight

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 2.1k.

Summary: Sero's got an embarrassing problem.

A/N: This is a new flavour of Sero for me, but I love this one just as much.

'You can't laugh...' Sero's voice is thick in the back of his throat forcing him to attempt to cough out it's awkwardness.

It doesn't work.

There's still the tell tale pinkness of a deep blush around his cheek bones, one that streaks down his neck and vanishes beneath the high, black neck of his suit.

Holding open your front door, you raise your eyebrows already on the cusp of giggles. He's leaning on your door frame, his arm pinned above his head, elbow pressed into the wood in a way that was almost charming. 'Okay...'

'Can – Actually...' He leans back, glancing down the corridor. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course.' Stepping aside, you watch as he slips into your apartment keeping his back almost flush with the door. You watch as he goes, side-stepping his way into your living room before turning quick on the balls of his feet to face you – the same sheepish smile etched into his features. Pausing, you tilt your head. 'Are you okay?'

'Y – yeah, uh...' He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he fidgets.

You raise your eyebrows, tipping forward slightly on your tip-toes.

'I – ha... See it's funny really because -.'

'Hanta, spit it out.'

He sighs. 'I'm stuck in my suit.'

You can't help it, a chuckle bubbles up your throat and spills helplessly over your lips.

Rocking his head back on his shoulders, Hanta groans. 'I said not to laugh...'

Sucking in air through your teeth, you struggle with party balloon lungs until the wheezing subsides and you can stand a little straighter again. 'Yeah, yep, sorry...' A stray gasp leaks from your lips, forcing you to bite down on the seam to silence it. 'Go on.'

'It gets worse.' He sighs. Squeezing shut his eyes, he licks over his lips before admitting. 'I'm naked in here.'

'I'm sorry, what?' You cough, disguising the tension in your lungs. It's hard not to look then, to really look, given the new information you've just been presented with.

Black spandex, strengthened with some obnoxiously named polymer stretches over the expanse of his shoulders. He's wide there, wider than you'd expect given his slight frame, but there's no denying the muscle that lingers under the material. The black extends, covers the swells of his pecs and then tapers, cutting into odd triangles that frame the ripples of his stomach. He's not as well muscled here as he is in his shoulders. Instead of the rough blocks of abdominal muscles, his are streamlined, forming two long, thick stripes of muscle that are almost totally visible through the pale of his suit.

Letting your eyes sink lower still, your gaze lingers on the thin strips of malleable metal that serves to strengthen his suit, but also inadvertently seems to perfectly highlight the deep creases that mark out his torso. You swallow. Hidden under a black square of material, barely contained by what you have to assume is at least two layers of material is a thick bulge. The swell is obvious, casting darkened shadows onto the twitching muscles of his thighs.

'Naked, me, under here...' Gesturing his crotch, he widens his eyes.

'The fucking zip snapped and I can't ask anyone to fucking help peel me out because whoever does it is going to get an eyeful of, well... Me.'

Blinking repeatedly, you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his. His jaw is tight, his stare worried and wild as he looks at you for an answer to a question you're not sure he's got the balls to ask.

Although, new information could prove you wrong.

It's in that instant that the silliness of the situation hits you right back over the head again. You manage to hold your laughter for a solid three seconds before it's tumbling out of you again. This time, it catches you off guard, rolling through you and almost reducing you to a crouch as Sero winces in front of you. 'Why couldn't you get one of the boys to help? Surely they've seen everything before...'

'And have Denks take the piss forever? No thanks.'

'Oh...' You fold your arms across your chest. 'And you think I won't take the piss? Is that it?'

'No.' He answers too quickly, but manages to trap the rest of his half-baked confession behind his teeth before it drops into the palm of your hands. The truth is, he doesn't think he'd mind you taking the piss – he doesn't think he'd mind you doing anything to him, in all honesty. Maybe that's why instead of slinking back to the agency and hoping that Hatsume was in her workshop, he'd found himself here, almost twenty minutes out of his way. He shrugs. 'But, maybe you'll be nicer about it?'

Locking eyes with him for a moment, you pause to watch him sweat before rubbing your hands together. 'C'mon then...' You smirk. 'Let's see how big that dick is.'

'Can you not?' Sero snaps, shivering when your palm meets the muscle of his shoulder. You slide your touch across him, moving in one solid stroke from his deltoid to the thick muscle of his back. The touch, as innocent as it is, makes his stomach tighten, molten lava churning as he submits to your teasing. A soft giggle slips your lips, sliding into his ear like sweet sherbet, making him half regret his decision to ask you, but then, your fingers are playing at the dips just above his collarbone and stealing coherency from him once more.

The suit is cooler than you'd expected. You can feel it, the tips of your fingers growing colder as you search across his chest, fingertips pressing against him in a search that quickly becomes fruitless.

Scratching, you use your nails to rake down his chest and attempt to ignore the way you can feel him respond. His whole body bristles, muscles tightening as a ripple uses his spine like a fire pole. You lick over your lips and hope he can't hear the shake in your voice. 'Where the fuck is the zip on this thing?'

Stretching back his shoulders, Sero swallows. 'It's, uh, around the back...' Gathering the loose hair

Immediately, you lift your hands as if burnt. Now, your groping feels gratuitous – sexual in a way that it wasn't meant to be. Not really. When you step behind him, twisting your hip to avoid bumping it against his, you don't let your fingers wonder.

It's not hard to find it, not now you're laser focused. There's a small bump. The slightest overlap between the two sides of his suit as it wraps around the base of his neck. A few hours ago there had been a zip, the thin strip of metal poking, just, from the material, but now, there's nothing there: Just the slight bump.

Laying one hand flat against the muscle of his back, you use your index finger to skate up the zip – parting the fabric as you go. At the top, you hook your finger under the suit and begin to work at opening it.

Each touch sends a series of short static shocks up through his body, forcing him to tense the plain of his stomach to keep him from folding over. He can feel it, the delicate slip of your fingers as you manage to shift the zip from the top of his spine to near between his shoulders. Inhaling, he starts to wonder if this was a bad idea after all.

'You want me to just keep going, yeah?' You move slowly now. It's almost obscene. A private strip show. One you're participating in, that wouldn't even be happening without you. The thought has you fighting your own composure, forcing you to lock your knees to keep them from shaking.

'Ye – yeah.' He forces a laugh into his voice, but it catches behind his Adam's apple and slips out of his mouth a rasp. 'It stops like, like,' he coughs. 'Like just above my ass.' The bridge of his nose crinkles, a cringe folding his features as he stops talking.

'Okay.' Your fingers feel like they're burning as your decent reveals more and more skin. The smooth plain of his back is revealed, the muscle underneath rippling as it's loosed from it's material confines.

It's intimate in a way you'd never expected as with the slick of his suit, so too are hidden secrets revealed. There's a mole just under the curve of his right shoulder blade. A scar that runs parallel to his spine, the skin still pink and fresh. The edges of black ink that wraps around the edge of his left hip.

When the zip finally draws to a stop, you can see the cleft of his ass. If you were to slip your hands inside, splaying your fingers across the warm breath of his lower back you'd be able to sink your thumbs into his back dimples. You imagine he'd sigh. Let his head roll back on his shoulders as you press close to him. Maybe you'd let your hands slink further, following along the grooves of his hips; lines that would lead to lower and lower, until...

'All done?' His voice is wound tight when he speaks, locked somewhere in the basin of his throat and released as if thrown out on a breath.

Your reluctant to step back, to recede from the heat of his body, but you manage it. 'Yep.' You pat his back, feeling the muscle relax under your touch. 'All done.'

He turns, already wriggling his shoulders free from the material of his suit. 'Thanks, thought I was going to be trapped forever in this thing. It's so...' Slipping his fingers under the latex clinging to his left shoulder, he stretches it from his skin. 'Difficult to fucking get out of.'

You chuckle and watch him struggle. He twists around himself, peeling the second skin of his suit away only for it to snap back and illicit a hiss from between his teeth. 'C'mere, before you do yourself some serious harm.'

Sero shivers as your hands skate underneath the suit and peel him from it. He'd close his eyes to hide from the intimacy of your slow undressing of him, but all that would do is conjure images of what he wishes would come afterwards. Images of him repaying the favour, slipping you from your oversized hoodie and sinking to his knees then repaying you again in a wholly different way. He can already imagine how easy it would be to have you, and yet... 'Thanks,' he mumbles.

'No worries.' You giggle, catching his eye before you step back: his shoulders and arms freed. 'Tell you what though...' Your eyebrow arcs, a coy smile playing at the edge of your lip. 'That really doesn't hide anything, does it?'

Eyes widening, he swallows hard. The knowledge of your staring, dare he even dream admiring, sends a shock wave of tension directly south. He cock kicks, his ass clenching as if to try and disguise the too obvious bulge against the front of his costume. In an instant, his hands sink, the top-half of his suit bunched in his fist as he plays the move for comfort and hopes you don't notice a thing. 'I...'

'I'm just joking around, Han.' You chuckle around the lump in your throat. There's a notable pulse in your stomach, one that sinks by the second and has your thoughts turning savoury.

'I'll...' Sero hedges. There's an energy in his muscles, one that makes him want to bounce on the balls of his feet and do something silly.

'Do you want a t-shirt?'

The more he looks at you, the more kissable you look. You always look kissable, but right now, with the sun coming in from your living room window and that small curious smile itching at your lip... You look phenomenal. He shakes his head. 'I'll just swing home. I'll be too high and too quick for anyone to notice that I'm semi-shirtless... My place isn't far.'

'Oh, okay.' You try not to let your disappointment show, but there's a notch that forms between his eyebrows that makes you wonder just how successful you'd been at disguising it. Slinking to the door, Sero has one foot over the threshold before he turns.

Fuck it. He thinks.

'Can I tell you something?'

Your eyes shine, head tilting. 'Of course, anything.'

'I really, like, really wanna take you out to dinner.'

Your lips break into a smile, forcing apples into your cheeks as a chuckle slips through your teeth. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' His smile matches yours, reaching his eyes and making him glow. 'Next week? That new place down town?'

You nod, chewing at your lip as you try not to feel like an excited school girl. 'It's a date.'

Sero's heart stutters, thudding in his chest. 'It's a date.'

-> Masterlist

[inkyray]

sick!matt x reader fluff 😛

a/n: i literally love writing a platonic reader n chris dynamic

content ahead: sick!matt x reader, bae u a master chef in this, just pure cutesy fluff :P

TOO LATE

"You're joking." You say, holding your phone up to your ear as Nick's voice boomed through it. "I swear I'm not, he can't even like– walk on his own." Nick said, almost like he was complaining but he definitely wasn't, if anything he was worried for his brother Matt.

He called you to let you know just how bad Matt's sickness got, based on what he told you, Matt's body temperature was burning hot yet he was still freezing, he was cold and sweaty, his small strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Apparently it was a struggle for him to even head to the bathroom, almost falling over with how weak his body had gotten. "Whatever he's got, it's definitely worse than fever." Nick sighs as you hold your phone with your cheek and shoulder, putting on your shoes.

"I'm coming over, I'm bringing medicine and a few ingredients. I'll make him some soup, hopefully it'll help." You assure, tying your shoelaces. Nick sighs in relief, "Thank fuck. I knew you'd be help. I'm like, so glad Matt came to his senses and asked you to be his girlfriend. If he hadn't done it sooner I would've asked you to marry me by then." You brightly laugh at his words, grabbing for your keys.

"Okay, I'll be over in a few minutes."

-

It was a lot worse than you thought.

The moment you entered his room, it was warm with unnatural heat and he was clearly tangled under all his pillows. You approached the side he was laying in, bending down to his level, your knees on the floor as your hands immediately tangled in his hair, moving it to the side so you could see his eyes better. "Matt." You mutter, your voice low and soft, unsure if he's asleep or not. His eyes flutter open to the sound of your voice, looking up at you lazily, beyond glad that you were here. He utters your name, his voice husky and thick. You immediately lean forward to peck him on the lips. "How are you feeling?" You question

He frowns, as if his sickness has been draining both physically and mentally. "Horrible. So so bad." Matt's eyes look like they were exhausted, rimmed with pink. You scowled, feeling beyond bad for your boyfriend. "Okay, I brought you medicine. Sit up for me, baby?" You ask him, your voice immediately soothing through his migraine like honey.

You turn to the bag you brought, skimming through it as you grab the right antibiotic. Matt takes long seconds to build up the courage to sit up, knowing how much physical energy it would take from him. When you turn your head back to him, he finally uses his elbows to sit up, his blanket slipping from off his chest, a hot breeze hitting you in the face.

A small comforting grin rests on your lips, and Matt curves his lips up lazily and crookedly, his mood feeling the most better at the sight of you. Handing him the pills to his palm, you grab the water bottle by his bed. 

With the pills finding their way to his mouth, you hold the water bottle up to his mouth. He takes large gulps from the bottle, depending on you to hold it for him. He pulls his head away, deciding that was enough for him after swallowing the medicine, visibly wincing, lifting a hand to touch his adam's apple. You understand that he had a bad case of a sore throat, and you get up. Matt's eyes follow you up. "Have you eaten yet?" You question, and he drops his gaze, shaking his head. You sigh.

"I thought as much."

"I'm sorry." He apologized with a harsh and croaky voice. You melt right then and there. "No, no. Matt, hon, it's okay." You offer a breathy chuckle. "I'll cook for you." You soothe your hands through his knotted and messy hair and his face visibly softens. He loved when you'd cook, always preferring it over take-out.

One time, you had caught your boyfriend arguing with his brother, Chris, to have you cook for them instead of just ordering out.

+

"Dude, she's not gonna be able to make chicken alfredo. We don't have the fucking ingredients." Chris sighed, pressing his eyebrows together.

"Chris, trust me. We could just go out and buy them really quick! I swear, it'll be heavenly." Matt jolted his leg up and down, attempting to talk him through it, already tasting his girlfriend's cooking on his tongue.

"It's almost 12:00 AM, Matt! The store is literally closed and she probably doesn't even wanna cook." Chris initiated, grabbing his phone out to order something. Matt rests his head on his palm, leaning against the kitchen island as he watches Chris order, giving up. "Do you think she'll want to tomorrow, though?" Matt wonders out loud.

"I actually hope so. I don't think anyone's made steak the same way she has." Chris responds, not denying the fact that your cooking truly is something else. "Right?" Matt agrees. "One of the best dinners of my life." Chris nods along, secretly hoping you'd be willing to feed them the next day.

+

You tap the large wooden spoon against the pot, letting any remaining liquid fall down the pot. You had decided to make him the classic chicken noodle soup. When Nick was sick, you had made him tomato soup, thankfully he had loved it, even after recovering asking you to make him some more. But you knew if you made that for Matt, it would've been a death wish.

You pour him the soup in a bowl, lifting a normal spoon up to your mouth as you blow the steam away, trying it. Perfect.

Getting the feeling of a lingering body behind, you spin your head around, seeing Chris hold his phone between both his hands like a purse, standing shyly behind you as he eyes the pot. "You good?" You laugh, and he doesn't audibly respond, only giving you an exaggerated sigh. "You want to try?" You finally ask after he gives you another sigh, he smiles immediately. "Yes, puh-lease." He uttered desperately. You take a quick scoop and hold it up, holding a palm under the spoon to keep anything from dripping. He notices your action, taking the spoon from you and mimicking your gesture, holding a hand under it as he brings it to his mouth.

He blows on it, flinching at the hotness of the liquid before finally pulling it in his mouth. A sense of victory pumps through you as you watch his eyes light up. "Can I have a bowl? Please, please, please. I promise I won't ask you for anything else. " He begs and you roll your eyes. 

"Let me feed your brother first, if there's any left, you can take some."

"Ugh." He huffs, migrating to the living room couch, watching on his phone until you're done.

You place the bowl under a plate, stabilizing it as you head for Matt's room.

Pushing through the door, you walk in on Matt in the same position you had left him in, scrolling through his phone before looking up at you when you enter. Closing his phone, he fixates himself on the bed as you approach, sitting on the side of his bed right by where his legs are crossed over each other under the blankets. "You made soup?" He questions before his eyes level with the bowl.

"I had to, it's tradition." You tell him, knowing he wasn't the biggest fan of soup. But if you were one thing, it would be willing to get him to like anything. "Okay." He hums, although you hadn't said anything, he trusted your judgement. You hold the spoon up to your mouth and blow at it, trailing it to his mouth.

"It's too hot, baby." He gasps, his lips jolting back from the sudden heat. "I know, but you'll have to drink it down. The whole point of soup when you're sick is to drink it hot." You assure, blowing a little more at it.

"But why?" He murmured, not liking what you were saying. "To burn the germs and to help you sweat, sweating helps you lose your fever quicker." He listens to you explain as you continue a little further, mentally reminding himself that you were also an older sister, this behavior coming to you naturally.

"Mm. Okay."

Grimacing when the hot liquid makes its way into his mouth, his face drops from any stiffness and lets it marinate in his mouth, swallowing it down. "Is there anything you're not good at?" He asks.

"I always burn sugar cookies."

"Oh yeah." Matt recalls. "I thought I was gonna experience a second house fire."

You shut him up with another spoon to his mouth.

-

The hours pass and you've done everything in your will to help Matt, and now that the sun is fully set, you can tell he has gotten the slightest bit better, knowing the change would kick in the next morning. There was no doubt that you were tired, doing the dishes and putting everything away, tidying up the kitchen, the living room, and Matt's bedroom.

It was when he threatened to never recover from this fever until you finally rested when you decided to take a break. You changed into spare pajamas that you keep in Matt's room, he watched you change with an upset look playing. 

"What?" You had asked.

"Wish I wasn't sick. Doing all these things for me, and still looking so beautiful. What a lucky piece of shit I am." He began getting sentimental. "You're too perfect for this world, you know that?" He watches you turn a flustered shade of blossom as you begin crawling into bed next to him.

You lay on your side as Matt raised an arm to drape over your shoulder, pushing you closer to him as you got comfortable, resting his hands on the dip of your waist, his fingers drawing shapes. Seconds pass, and you finally answer. "I don't think you're a piece of shit."

The sound of his hoarse chuckle vibrates through his chest. "You suck at taking compliments."

You lift your head up and he looks down at you, both of you getting the same idea in mind. "Don't." He warns, but you kiss him anyway. You didn't care that he was sick, or if that'll get you sick too. His warm lips pressed onto yours as you smiled in triumph.

"Too late."

[pin-k-ink]

miya osamu who is possessive. he makes sure you know you're his. grabby in public, hand on your back, your waist, fingers in your pussy on public transport. i feel like he's the kinda guy to apologize when he's going to rough, when he's hurting you, but he just can't help it. probably has a breeding kink and just wants to stuff you so full

axiom // miya osamu

tw ⇢ possessive!osamu, jealous!osamu, lots of pda, public sex, fingering, begging, asphyxiation, breeding, multiple rounds, creampie, unprotected sex, one spank, overstimulation, name calling, praise kink (receiving), marking, getting caught

wc ⇢ 7.7k

a/n: spent all night writing this for you, nonnie. god, i wanna marry samu so bad

The familiar bustle of Onigiri Miya surrounded you as you tended to the last customer of the day. The aroma of freshly cooked rice and savory fillings filled the air, but beneath the comforting scents, an undercurrent of tension emanated from your boyfriend. Though Osamu tried to maintain a casual demeanor, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance, you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his mounting frustration.

The way his hand curled into a tight fist, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The rhythmic throbbing of the vein in his neck, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat. The clenching of his chiseled jaw, the muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Even the aggressive tapping of his foot against the tiled floor betrayed his inner turmoil, each staccato beat echoing in the space between you.

Your own heart raced with a potent mix of concern and confusion. What had triggered this sudden change in Osamu's usually calm, patient demeanor? It was a rarity to see him so visibly agitated, his composure cracking under the weight of an unknown pressure. As the customer finally took their leave, you allowed your gaze to wander around the shop, seeking answers in the familiar surroundings.

That's when your eyes met Atsumu's. He sat at a nearby table, his long fingers absently tapping against the polished mahogany surface, a pensive expression etched onto his handsome features. The moment your gazes locked, however, his eyes widened momentarily, a flicker of recognition sparking within their depths. Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he held the key to a secret you had yet to find out.

The unease that had been simmering in your gut intensified, a sense of foreboding washing over you like a chilling wave. What did Atsumu know that you didn't? Before you could dwell on the question further, a pair of strong, familiar arms coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of Osamu's chest.

The sudden contact sent a shiver racing down your spine, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected intimacy. "'Samu? What's—"

"The back. Now." His voice was low and clipped, each word laced with an authority that left no room for argument. The warning squeeze of his fingers against your hip only served to emphasize the urgency of his demand.

Waves of apprehension crashed over you as you processed his words, your mind reeling with the implications. Osamu was undeniably angry—that much was clear from the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. But the reason behind his ire eluded you.

With a hesitant nod, you released yourself from his embrace and began to make your way towards the storage room at the back of the shop. Each step felt heavy, as if your feet were encased in concrete, your mind spinning with a whirlwind of possibilities. What had you done to incite such a reaction from your usually level-headed boyfriend?

Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as you waited anxiously in the small, musty confines of the storage room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried goods and cleaning supplies, the shelves looming overhead like silent sentinels. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, a frantic bird desperate to escape its bony prison.

When the door finally creaked open, signaling Osamu's arrival, your breath lodged in your throat, your pulse skyrocketing with a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation. You barely had a chance to utter a word, to form a coherent thought, before he was upon you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, possessive kiss.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, fingers digging into the pliant flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, erasing any lingering distance between your bodies. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your parted lips, muffled by the insistent press of his mouth against yours. Your own hands rose to clutch at his broad shoulders, fingernails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you surrendered to the intensity of his kiss.

The heat of his body, the unyielding pressure of his lips, sent desire coursing through your veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole. Just as quickly as it began, however, Osamu abruptly tore his mouth away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

"What was his name?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, his stormy eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"Wh-what?" you managed to stammer, your mind still hazy from the intoxicating kiss, struggling to make sense of his sudden question.

"That last customer, what was his name?" Osamu repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his tone, his words laced with a subtle growl.

You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts, attempting to grasp the significance of his inquiry. "Keisuke. Why?"

Something dark and primal flickered in the gunmetal depths of Osamu's eyes, a possessiveness that sent a delicious thrill racing down your spine. He reached for you once more, his large hand splaying across the small of your back, pressing your body flush against the hard planes of his chest. "So you remember his name?"

"What the—"

Your words were cut off by Osamu's exasperated sigh as he released you roughly, causing you to stumble back a step, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. Any retort you might have mustered died on your tongue as you watched him reach for his belt, his intentions unmistakable in the purposeful movements of his fingers.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise, dripping with dark intentions that made your core clench with anticipation. "By the time we're done, you won't even remember what he looked like. Now, why don't you bend over f’me?"

There was a certain smugness in the way he spoke, as if he knew he'd already won. And the worst part was, deep down, you knew he was right. Because as you bent over, ass up, ready to take him, all thoughts of the nameless customer were wiped from your mind. The only name that mattered was Osamu's, and by the time he was done with you, you'd be screaming it loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

As his name spilled from your lips, tinged with a mix of reverence and desire, you knew you were lost. But as his fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing against the heated flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your core, you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"Fuck, you're already soaked, sweetheart," Osamu groaned, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles around your clit.

"I'm not the only one," you gasped, arching your back and pressing against his hard length, trapped inside his jeans.

"Oh yeah? And who's fault is that, huh?" he murmured, swiftly turning you around to face him, the tip of his nose grazing along your jaw, his warm breath fanning over your ear.

"Yours," you replied breathlessly, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Damn right it's mine."

You could feel his smile against your skin, and despite the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you couldn't help but grin. He was arrogant, but he had every right to be. He was the one who'd managed to make you this wet, after all.

With practiced ease, he slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor in a silken puddle. Then, without warning, his fingers were inside you, curling and pumping with a rhythm that had your knees buckling.

"Fuck, 'Samu," you whimpered, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his bicep, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped indents.

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. "Let me hear how much you love this."

You could only moan in response, his fingers working their magic inside you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hands continued to work on freeing his cock, a task made more difficult by the distracting waves of pleasure radiating through your body. But, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to release him from his confines, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, stroking him with a pace that matched his own.

His fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your combined pleasure filling the air, a lewd melody that only served to heighten the intensity of your impending release. You could feel the tension building inside you, like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment.

And when it did, it was with a ferocity that left you shaking in his arms.

Osamu's fingers worked you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure before pulling out. You barely had a moment to recover before his cock was sliding between your folds, coating himself with your juices.

"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, his voice strained with desire, the heat of his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body.

"Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his, a playful glint in their depths. "Stop teasing me."

His lips curved into a smirk, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, before landing a sharp smack against your ass. The unexpected sting only fueled your desire, a gasp slipping past your lips.

"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.

With agonizing slowness, he slid inside you, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim.

You couldn't help but moan, the sensation of being filled by him sending a rush of ecstasy through your veins. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before beginning to move.

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a breathless moan from you. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coupled with the friction of his pelvis against your clit, was enough to send you spiraling into another mind-blowing orgasm.

"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, come for me," he growled, his own pleasure evident in his voice, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his shaft.

As the waves of bliss began to recede, you could feel him picking up his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, the bite of his nails against your skin, only serving to intensify the pleasure coursing through your veins.

"Come on, 'Samu, fill me up," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathless plea.

"Fuck," he groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully, the tension of his impending release coiling through his body.

And with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you trembling and breathless.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. Before you had a chance to recover, however, he was capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the taste of him mingling with the sweet flavors of his food.

"What brought this on?" you asked breathlessly, once he'd finally released you. He smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "Can't a man want to fuck his girlfriend without having to justify it?"

"You're unbelievable," you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"You love it," he teased, pulling you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "And I'm not finished with you yet."

Realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your pulse into overdrive. Osamu was jealous. The man renowned for his unwavering patience, the one who had endured countless incidents of his brother's shameless flirting and innumerable customers vying for your attention, had finally reached his breaking point.

A thrill raced through you at the thought, your skin prickling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. Osamu had always been an attentive, passionate lover, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing day. But you knew that beneath the surface, he kept his darker desires locked away, a carefully maintained restraint that never fully unleashed the depth of his hunger for you.

Now, it seemed, that fragile control had shattered. From that moment on, everything shifted, the very fabric of your relationship rewoven with the threads of Osamu's all-consuming possessiveness.

Gone were the days of working the front counter, of engaging in friendly banter with the customers who frequented Onigiri Miya. Osamu's jealousy knew no bounds, his need to stake his claim on you overriding any semblance of professional decorum. Each night, he would pull you into the back room, his hands roaming your body with a desperate urgency, his lips marking your skin with bruising kisses that served as a reminder of who you belonged to.

At first, the intensity of his passion was exhilarating, a heady rush that left you craving more. The way he claimed you, the force of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes—it all combined to create a potent mix of desire that coursed through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze with an insatiable need.

But as time wore on, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship began to show, Osamu's jealousy bleeding into every aspect of your daily life like an insidious poison.

It started with small gestures in public, seemingly innocent displays of affection that belied a deeper, more primal urge. The way his fingers would intertwine with yours, his grip just a little too tight, a silent declaration of ownership. The way he would bring your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his eyes daring anyone to challenge his claim on you. The way he would pull you close, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders, a tangible barrier between you and the rest of the world.

But as the days turned into weeks, Osamu's actions grew bolder, more brazen in their possessiveness. It was as if he needed to constantly remind the world that you were his and his alone, consequences be damned.

One particularly memorable incident occurred outside the shop, as you waited for Osamu to join you for your anniversary date. The evening air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. A group of teenagers loitered nearby, their laughter and chatter filling the night with a youthful exuberance.

You paid them no mind, lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated the romantic evening ahead. That is, until one of the boys broke away from the group, sauntering towards you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, his eyes alight with a boldness born of teenage bravado.

"Hey, lady—"

The words had barely left his mouth when Osamu appeared at your side, his arm snaking around your waist in a clear display of possession. His grip was iron-clad, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip, a silent warning to anyone who dared to encroach on his territory.

"She's taken. Fuck off." His voice was a menacing growl, low and guttural, laced with a palpable threat that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting shade of gray, had hardened into chips of ice, narrowed in a withering glare that could have frozen the very marrow in the unfortunate teenager's bones.

The boy, to his credit, had the good sense to retreat, scurrying back to the safety of his friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Osamu's chest puffed out in satisfaction, a primal display of dominance that sent a thrill racing through your veins. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair, a silent affirmation of his love and protection.

From that moment on, Osamu's public displays of affection only escalated, each one more daring than the last. At a dinner with Atsumu and his teammates, he kept you wedged firmly between his solid form and his brother's, a human shield against any unwanted advances. His hand rested possessively on your thigh beneath the table, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, a private claiming that set your nerves alight.

When the waiter had the audacity to openly flirt with you, going so far as to ask for your number in front of the entire table, a tense silence descended upon the group. Forks paused midway to mouths, eyes darting between you, Osamu, and the oblivious server, a collective breath held in anticipation of the impending fallout.

To everyone's surprise, Osamu remained outwardly calm, his expression betraying no hint of the storm brewing beneath the surface. He allowed you to politely decline the waiter's advances, your words measured and diplomatic, even as your heart raced with a mix of discomfort and irritation.

The waiter, however, seemed determined to push his luck, his eyes lingering on your face, his smile just a touch too friendly, his words laced with a suggestive undertone that made your skin crawl. Atsumu, ever the protective brother, was about to intervene, his patience wearing thin in the face of the waiter's persistence.

But before he could utter a word, Osamu cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "Oh, I need to go and close up shop. I'll see you home, honey."

With that, he reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of your hair. He pulled you in close, his lips claiming yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into overdrive.

He made a show of it, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, a soft moan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless and flushed, your lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

The waiter, thoroughly humiliated, could only stand there, his mouth agape, his cheeks stained a deep crimson. Osamu, for his part, merely smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slowly walked out of the restaurant.

In the days that followed, Osamu's possessiveness seemed to level off, the tension in his body easing, the constant need to hover at your side diminishing. But his desire to touch you, to stake his claim on your body and soul, remained as insatiable as ever.

One particularly memorable incident occurred on a crowded train, your bodies pressed flush against each other in the cramped confines of the carriage. The gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels against the tracks, created a hypnotic backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.

You felt the ghost of Osamu's touch on the back of your thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing up your spine. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, a silent question in your gaze.

Osamu merely smiled, the curve of his lips soft and affectionate, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against yours in a tender gesture that belied the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning across your face, his words a sinful promise that made your core clench with anticipation. "You just look so irresistible today. I can't keep my hands off of you."

As he spoke, his fingers inched higher, grazing the lace edge of your panties, a teasing touch that set your nerve endings ablaze. Your heart raced, a potent cocktail of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your skin prickling with a heady mix of desire and apprehension.

Osamu's hands were blatantly beneath your skirt now, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your rear, his touch bold and unapologetic. If the train hadn't been so crowded, your intimate moment would have been on display for all to see, a public claiming that sent a thrill racing down your spine. But Osamu showed no signs of stopping, his lips peppering your face with tender kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing second.

The feeling of being desired, of being wanted so fiercely by the man you loved, was intoxicating. The thrill of potentially getting caught only heightened the experience, sending a flood of heat pooling between your thighs.

You leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hand gripped his bicep, your nails digging into the smooth skin, a silent plea for more.

"Osamu, please..."

The soft, breathless whisper was enough to shatter the last vestiges of his self-control. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, a sinful, desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue.

His hands roamed your body with a fervent urgency, mapping every curve and plane with an intimate familiarity, as if committing each inch of your skin to memory. His touch was a branding, a burning mark of possession, his desire a blazing inferno that threatened to consume you both.

You clung to him, your fingers grasping at his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly between trembling digits, as you tried to ground yourself amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions. Your heart raced, a deafening crescendo pounding in your ears, the very air around you charged with the electric energy of your passion.

Osamu's lips traced a heated path along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, his tongue laving the tiny bite marks, soothing the sting with his gentle ministrations.

"Mine," he breathed, the word a reverent, possessive murmur against your ear, a secret only you were privy to. "All mine."

His hands roamed the supple curve of your ass, his fingers squeezing the pliant flesh, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest.

"Fuck, baby, I want you so bad."

His voice was a low, husky rumble, laced with an aching need that made your pussy clench, the heat between your thighs nearly unbearable.

"I want to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they know you're mine."

You could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, a tangible proof of his desire, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you like a cloud. You swallowed thickly, your lips parted in a silent moan, a heady mix of pleasure and fear coursing through your veins.

"God, Samu, please..."

Your words trailed off, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper, as Osamu's hands found their way between your thighs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of your panties, the feather-light touch eliciting a gasp from you, the sound drowned out by the clamor of the train.

"Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me." His words were a sultry growl, laced with a dark, primal hunger, the sound sending a shiver of desire racing down your spine.

Your mind was hazy, the sensations overwhelming, your body thrumming with a desperate, aching need. Your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for more, a plea he was only too happy to oblige.

"That's it, baby, let me take care of you." His fingers slipped beneath the thin, silky fabric of your panties, his thumb brushing against the slick, sensitive bud of your clit, a teasing touch that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. You bit back a moan, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip, the faint metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet, salty taste of Osamu's kisses.

His fingers slid along your dripping folds, the sensation almost unbearably intense, the sound of his voice, a low, sultry murmur, drowning out the chaos around you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, don't worry."

With that, his fingers plunged inside you, his deft digits stretching you in the most delicious way, a welcome intrusion that made your core clench, a choked whimper escaping your lips.

You clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne a heady, intoxicating scent.

Your hips rocked against his hand, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the sway of the train, the friction creating a delicious, aching friction that threatened to send you over the edge.

"Samu, please, I need you," you whispered, your words a breathless, desperate plea, your core clenching around his fingers.

Osamu chuckled, the sound a dark, seductive rumble, the low timbre vibrating through your body. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin, a sensual, forbidden promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart, l'm gonna give you everything you need."

As he spoke, his fingers moved deeper within you, the pads of his digits brushing against the bundle of nerves hidden within your walls, a spot he knew all too well. He increased the pressure, the movements of his fingers unrelenting, the pace building, a slow, torturous crescendo.

The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, the air in your lungs burning, the muscles of your thighs quivering, the heat coiling deep within you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, the words slipping from your lips a frantic, broken mantra.

"Please, please, please, Samu, please."

"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into the warm cavern of your mouth, a deep, carnal melding of lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers were a relentless piston within you, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure coursing through your veins, the intensity making your knees buckle, your fingers digging into the solid muscles of his biceps. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the smug, satisfied curve of his mouth only adding to the overwhelming sensations.

He slowed his movements, the pace languid and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible, the soft, teasing caresses making your toes curl, a shuddering aftershock rippling through your body. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, his lips lingering against yours, a soft, loving press, before slowly pulling away.

His eyes were hooded, the gray orbs a stormy, smoky shade, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips were slightly swollen, a rosy pink from the fervent nature of his kisses, the curve of his smile a tender, adoring expression.

"God, I love you," he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper, a sacred declaration.

You could feel the blush blooming across your cheeks, a rosy, flustered flush that made him chuckle. His thumb gently wiped away the stray tear that had slipped from your eye, his touch a reassuring, steadying caress.

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your lips before carefully extracting his hand from between your thighs. You watched, mesmerized, as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out, a sly, teasing lick, his eyes never leaving yours.

"God, baby, you taste so good," he murmured, the words a low, husky rumble, his voice laced with a dark, sensual undercurrent.

"I could eat you all day."

You shuddered, a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, the very image a visceral, erotic fantasy come to life. But before you could respond, the train screeched to a halt, the automated voice announcing your stop, the sudden cacophony of voices and movement jolting you back to reality.

You hastily smoothed down your clothes, your hands frantically straightening your skirt, a vain attempt to hide the evidence of your passion. Your hair was a mess, the once carefully styled strands now tousled and tangled, a disheveled testament to the fervent nature of Osamu's affections.

By the time you reached your stop, your body was thrumming with a desperate need, your core aching for the relief that only his cock could provide.

As he led you off the train, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, your mind swirled with a dizzying array of emotions. The intensity of Osamu's love, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own, was both thrilling and overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to consume you whole.

The moment you crossed the threshold of Osamu's house, the air between you crackled with a palpable tension, a desperate hunger that could no longer be denied. With a growl of impatience, Osamu's strong hand encircled your wrist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tugged you towards the bedroom, his movements fueled by a primal urgency that set your blood ablaze.

The door swung open with a bang, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot, but neither of you paid it any mind. Osamu's focus was solely on you, his stormy gray eyes darkened with a lust that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a frenzy.

In a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, you tumbled onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath your weight. Osamu wasted no time in climbing over you, his body a solid, comforting weight that pressed you into the plush comforter. His legs straddled your hips, his knees bracketing your thighs, keeping you pinned in place, a willing captive to his desire.

Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your skin prickling with anticipation as Osamu lowered his head, his lips seeking yours in a bruising kiss that stole the air from your lungs. The press of his mouth was demanding, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours in a sensual dance that set your nerve endings ablaze.

His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, his fingers skimming over the curves and planes of your form, mapping every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. Each touch, each caress, each scrape of his blunt nails against your flesh sent bolts of electricity racing through your veins, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole.

You arched into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that assaulted your senses. The scent of him, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk, filled your nostrils, intoxicating you with its potency.

The taste of him, a tantalizing blend of mint and spice, lingered on your tongue, leaving you wanting more. The feel of him, his skin burning hot against your own, his muscles flexing beneath your palms, was almost too much to bear.

You were drowning in him, consumed by his love and desire, and you never wanted it to end.

With a groan, he tore his lips from yours, his gaze raking over your flushed features, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Mine," he breathed, the word a low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Mine to fuck. Mine to breed."

The promise of his words, the raw, visceral need in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded to him instinctively, your thighs parting to allow him access, your core aching with an emptiness that only he could fill.

You were his. And you always would be.

A feral grin spread across Osamu's face, his canines glinting in the low light as he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and satisfaction.

"Your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response, the anticipation of what was to come rendering you speechless.

Osamu leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. "I belong to you, Osamu."

He let out a low rumble of approval, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours. "That's right," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "And I'm going to remind you of that, over and over again. I'm going to fill you with my seed until there's no doubt in your mind who you belong to."

Osamu shifted, his knees pushing your thighs wider apart as he settled between your legs, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of what was to come making your pulse race and your stomach flutter.

You were desperate for him, aching for the pleasure only he could give you. But before you could reach for him, he grasped your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head, his grip rough and commanding.

"Stay still," he commanded, his free hand tracing a slow path down your chest, his fingers skimming over the curve of your breast before cupping the mound, his thumb grazing over the taut peak of your nipple.

The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your back arching off the mattress, a needy moan slipping past your lips.

"Patience," he chided, his touch featherlight as he continued to tease your sensitive bud, his dark gaze drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Arousal pooled between your thighs, the dampness of your panties betraying your desperation.

"So eager," he mused, his fingers pinching your nipple, the sudden burst of pain mixing with pleasure. "But we're just getting started."

Osamu released your wrists, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He dipped lower, his digits finding your slick entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, deliberate stroke.

Your hips bucked against his touch, your need for release becoming unbearable, but Osamu held you in place, his fingers circling your clit with a torturous slowness that made you squirm.

"Please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy. "Please, Osamu. I need you."

"I know," he replied, his tone husky with lust.

"I need you too. I need to fill you with my cum, to breed you like the good little girl you are."

Arousal trickled down your thighs as his fingers stroked your folds, his touch alternating between rough and gentle, his movements designed to push you closer and closer to the edge.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your skin burning with a feverish heat as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. But just as you were about to fall over the edge, Osamu pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with your juices.

"Not yet," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sticky-sweet liquid from his digits. "I want to savor this."

He pressed his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core.

You could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire coursing through his veins mirroring your own. His desire to claim you, to mark you as his, was undeniable, his need for you almost feral in its intensity.

As his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs, his breath fanned against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "I'm going to breed you. Going to fill your pretty little pussy with my cum, over and over again, until your womb is filled to the brim. I'm going to breed you, and you're going to beg me for it."

The sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of fabric, sent a thrill of anticipation through your body, your core clenching with need.

Osamu gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance.

"This is mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessive hunger as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls with a delicious friction that sent a ripple of pleasure through your body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

You clung to him, your nails raking across his back as he buried himself inside you, his girth filling you completely. His thrusts were hard and deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit, the pressure building with each passing second.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your eyes locked with his as he fucked you with a ferocious passion, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching places that made you see stars.

Your moans mingled with his, the sounds of pleasure filling the air, the two of you lost in a primal dance of ecstasy.

The feeling of him, his thick shaft pulsing inside you, his breath hot against your neck, was almost too much to bear. But just as the familiar tension coiled low in your abdomen, just as the pressure threatened to overwhelm you, Osamu pulled out, leaving you teetering on the brink of release.

"Not yet," he growled, his gaze dark and wild as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

Your fingers curled around the sheets, a moan slipping past your lips as his cock teased your entrance, his tip barely grazing your folds.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he plunged into you, his pace frantic and demanding.

Your walls clenched around him, your body shuddering with each thrust, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry.

"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take my cock," he growled, his hand snaking around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "I'm going to breed you like the little cumdumpster you are. I'm going to fill you so full of my cum that you'll be leaking it for days."

His words ignited a fire in your core, the friction of his cock against your walls sending a wave of pleasure through your body, your climax crashing over you in an earth-shattering orgasm.

Your walls clamped down on him, your body writhing beneath him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless chant.

"Cumming for me already?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. "I'm not surprised. Your body was made for this, made for me. You're going to take all my cum, aren't you?"

You could barely form a coherent response, his relentless pounding overwhelming your senses.

The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, his grip on your throat tightening, his breath hot against your skin, was almost too much to bear.

The coil within you tightened, the pressure mounting, until it finally snapped, your vision going white as another orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the last.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips stuttering as he reached his own peak, his cock pulsing inside you, spurts of hot cum filling you to the brim.

"That's it. Take it. Take my cum, pretty."

You sagged against him, your limbs trembling, your core clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.

You felt him lean forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm not done with you yet. This is just the beginning."

As the minutes passed, you slowly came down from your high, the room coming back into focus, the scent of sweat and sex permeating the air. Your heart hammered in your chest, your body aching from the strain of being used, but Osamu's hold on you was gentle, his touch soft as he cradled you against his chest.

"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, his fingers trailing over your skin. "I'm so proud of you."

You hummed in response, too exhausted to speak, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

But the moment his hands began to roam once more, his fingers teasing your still-sensitive folds, his lips trailing down your neck, you knew that the night was far from over.

His touch, his love, his desire, was a drug that you could never get enough of. And as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, his cock hardening against your thigh, you knew that you were powerless to resist.

As the night wore on, the intensity between you and Osamu only seemed to grow, each moment more heated than the last. His touch, his kiss, his very presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into a world where only the two of you existed.

Hours later, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the evidence of your passion was clear. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. Your clothes lay strewn about, a reminder of the urgency with which they had been discarded.

Your body hummed with a pleasant ache, a physical reminder of the pleasure you had shared. Osamu's arm was draped across your waist, his chest pressed against your back as he slept, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.

Osamu had been true to his word, claiming you again and again, filling you with his cum until your core was dripping with it, the smell of sex permeating the air.

You couldn't remember how many times you had orgasmed, how many times he had driven you to the brink of madness, but the memory of his touch, his lips, his cock, was seared into your mind.

The feeling of him inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your womb, was enough to make your toes curl.

You could still feel him, his cock still snugly encased within your gummy walls, ensuring that none of his potent seed escaped you while he slept.

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, a sudden commotion from the living room jolted you awake. Beside you, Osamu stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation.

"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

Before either of you could investigate, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a grinning Atsumu. He took one look at your naked forms tangled together on the bed and let out a low whistle.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "Looks like someone had a good night."

Osamu grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. "Get out, you pervert!"

Atsumu dodged the projectile with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I just came to make sure you two lovebirds were still alive. You weren't answering your phones."

You felt your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of your state of undress. Pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, you shot Atsumu a glare. "We're fine, thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."

Atsumu's grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, sure. I'll leave you to it. But just so you know, the walls in this place are pretty thin. You might want to keep it down next time."

With a wink and a cackle, he ducked out of the room, narrowly avoiding the second pillow Osamu launched at his head.

Osamu flopped back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the lingering tension. "Maybe next time we should go to my place," you suggested, snuggling up to Osamu's side.

He peeked at you from beneath his arm, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or maybe next time we should be even louder, just to piss him off."

You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like the way you think."

[zealousllamawolf]

Prompt from a Request (Alastor X FemReader) R+18

!!Minors DNI!!

Pairing- Alastor x Reader

Summary Reader is on their period where Alastor can't help but treat himself.

Word Count- 2K

~~~

  Your first period in Hell was the worst, and they did not have birth control to help with the flow which you took religiously when you were alive, unfortunately you were cursed with heavy periods. Though at the time you did not know sinners still had periods. So, there you were sitting next to Angel at the bar nursing a drink when you laughed at something Husk said when the familiar feeling occurred between your legs. Immediately you were alarmed, NO, it can’t be!

  Your face went blank void of all emotion, and you stood up sliding off the bar stool, letting the chair legs scrap on the floor. Without looking up at anyone your eyes fixed to the ground, you quickly waddled your way to your room with your hands behind you covering your backside, knowing the blood had already seeped through your leggings. You pull up a hand to reveal bloody fingers.

  “No, no, no.” You whine getting closer to your room rounding the corner when you bump into something hard, stumbling backwards. You groan and look up at Alastor’s grinning face.

  “My my, you seem to be in a hurry.’’ Alastor says smirking down at you, reaching out his arms he grabs your shoulders, steading you. You take a step back out of Alastor’s personal space since you knew he did not like anyone to touch him or be overly close, but surprisingly he steps closer, and did not release your shoulders.

  Over the past couple of weeks staying at the hotel you made sure you did not do anything to upset Alastor, he was terrifying, and you always felt uneasy around him. His smile was unnerving as it was but when he stared, you just wanted to sink into the floor.

  “I-… Yes, I need to handle something that is pressing.” You say talking with your hands to express more urgency. Suddenly Alastor snatches your hand examining your slick fingers. He leaned forward and pulled your hand to his face, taking a deep inhale, closing his eyes savoring the scent. You blush at the intimacy of the moment, rubbing your legs together uncomfortably. Alastor was smelling your blood from the most private part of your body; you thought cringing inwardly.

  “Are you hurt I can only assume since the blood” his voice dangerously low when he said blood, you could barely hear him over the static that grew louder around both of you. He opened his eyes looking down at you with half lidded eyes like he was high off the scent of your blood. The intense way he was looking at you left you speechless, the desire behind his eyes sending a warm feeling pool in your groin. No, stop, he just wants your blood that’s kinda his thing, right?

  “N-no, I am fine,” gulping from your throat going dry, “it’s more a personal matter.” You stumble over your words as he brings your hand closer, pressing them to his lips, before pulling them back slightly. Your heart rapidly starts to beat in your chest as you watch him lick his lip as soon as he licked the blood his eyes grew wide at the taste.

  “Irresistible.” Alastor whispers bringing your hand to his lips before slowing sliding one of your fingers in his mouth. Your breath hitched at the sensation, sending tingles down your arm. You bite your lip to hold back a moan when his tongue swirled around your finger ever so lightly. Alastor lets out a groan, gripping your arm tightly slipping in another finger in. You take a step back in a daze, your back hits a wall, grateful for the support you lean your full weight against it. As revolting as this was your body betrayed you by being turned on by the mere thought of Alastor’s mouth on your skin.

  In one swift movement Alastor pins you against the wall, slipping your fingers out of his mouth leaning in close enough to feel his breath on your lips, he rests a hand on your hip gently griping, while he slides one under your chin lifting it up.

  “I need another taste, ma bichette*” he inhales sharply as you press your lips to his sliding your hands up his chest wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. He moans at your eagerness, deepening the kiss he slides his hand around your throat gently squeezing softly making you groan at the pressure. You break the kiss looking at Alastor through half lidded lust filled eyes, turning your head allowing more of your neck exposed.

  “Then take it.’’ You whine. Alastor dips his head down lightly biting down, compelling you to inhale quickly, holding your breath waiting for the pain to start. Alastor shifts and slides a leg between yours, spreading them open till his thigh pressed to your mound, chuckling menacingly Alastor trails his nose up the length of your neck, nipping at your ear lobe.

  “Oh, mon cheri, so willing to give yourself to me already.’’ He grinds his thigh against your heat. “Your neck isn’t the place I want to indulge in.” It takes you a moment to think through the fog that clouded your judgement, but you eventually understand what he meant, when the realization comes to you, your face instantly burns up.

  “Al… I-I did not think you really cared for that type of thing.” You say groaning at the constant friction Alastor was making. You look down and notice a wet spot forming on his pants, you whisper. “You’re going to dirty your suit if you continue to do that.” You say, silently hoping he will continue, since it felt so good, you have not been touched for years prior to dying. Even though Alastor scared you at times you could not stop the way he was making you feel, trembling at his every touch.

  “You’d be mistaken my dear, this is only an act for my entertainment.” Alastor laughs lightly but his eyes told you another story. They had turned to radio dials, which is when you noticed all the other strange things happening around you. The lights were flickering, and the air was thick with static pulsing around you, but most importantly Alastor’s frame was slightly larger than normal, and his antlers had grown towering over you. “You are just the toy I decided to play with.”

  You stomach tighten when he finished speaking, the thought of him just using you for something only he would want was thrilling as much as the feeling of his mouth on your cunt. Being eaten out by him while on your period still grossed you out, but the question of pleasure was on the line so you caved.

 “P-please be g-gentle with me.” You whimper, pushing down Alastor’s thigh away from your throbbing core, grabbing his hand you pull him the rest of the way to your room.

Before the door is even closed you feel Alastor’s hand on your lower back leading you to your bed, you try to make your way to the bathroom to clean up a bit but, you are stopped when Alastor’s hand snakes around your waist pulling you closer to his side.

“Alastor, I need to get a towel.’ You say shyly. “I bleed rather a lot and I don’t want to—.’’ Alastor laugh fills the room cutting you off.

“Oh dear, do relax. I am not going to let a single drop on your covers.” Your face burns wondering what you have gotten yourself into.

 In no time you are lying on your back, while Alastor stands in front of you between your legs. He sheds his coat, neatly laying it across your bed, then proceeds to unbutton his cuff rolling his sleeves up just below his elbow, watching as his muscles flex under his skin. Your eyes trailed his every move never seeing Alastor this excited, head tilted, smiling coyly down at you. The dim light casts a shadow across his upper face making his eyes glow redder somehow, sending a thrill down your spine. Alastor kneels sliding his hands up your thighs stopping at the top of your stretchy leggings, curling his fingers under your waistband dragging his nails against the skin at your hips hard enough to leave thin trails of blood in their wake, making you shudder with pain and excitement.

“Lift your hips up.” Alastor commands, you raise your hips up slightly as he shimmies your pants and panties down past the curve of your ass. You lift your legs once the fabric bunches at your knees allowing him to slide the rest down, taking them off. Once bare from the waist down fully exposed to Alastor, his hands slide up your calf, lightly gripping your knees he slowly spreads your legs open reveling your drenched cunt on display. You bite your lip trying to focus on something other than Alastor and settled on a stain on the ceiling. Alastor did not miss your shyness and refusal to look at him. He shakes his head he could not have that now, could he?

“Look at me, doe.” he says sternly, planting soft trail of kisses down your inner thigh, slowly making his way down your leg to your center. His other hand was gripping your other thigh pushing your leg down into the bed, locking you into place. You felt his hot breath on your core before he licked the skin between your leg and your outer lips. The action makes you both groan, forcing your hips to jerk up at the sudden contact. “You’re so intoxicating.” He whispers before he starts to slide his tongue everywhere but the places you need to be touched. Your cunt clenches at the close calls aching for his tongue.

“Al-Alastor, stop t-teasing me.” you whimper barely able to contain your need for more. You runt your hips up trying to force his tongue to slip up and do what you wanted. You look down at his smirking up at you with a sly smile almost as if he was enjoying watching you squirm under his hold. He skims lightly up the length of your fold watching your reaction. You moan and arch your back clenching the covers in tight fists. 

Alastor runs his smooth tongue over your clit making your hips jump, sending shivers of pleasure throughout your whole body. You feel him chuckle against your cunt before he starts to add pressure to your sensitive nub drawing light circles tantalizingly slow. You run your hand under your shirt lifting it up as you go, slipping your bra over your breasts, rolling your one of your nipples between your fingers.

“Such a sweet taste you have dear.” Alastor growls sliding his tongue down your slit before plunging into your core making you moan feeling heat pool at the base of your stomach. As he keeps feasting on the blood pouring out of you his tongue curled up and swiped across your sweet spot sending a puling sensation though out your body. How is his tongue so long?

“Al… please do that again.” As if on cue he curls his tongue up again and adds more pressure. After what seemed like eternity his intense suckling increased, making the coil in your core snap releasing a flow of cum and blood into Alastor’s mouth, making him grip your thigh, feverishly lapping up all your juices.

He pulls back looking at you through dazed eyes before his eyes were drawn to a single drop of blood slowly dripping out of your core, he swoops down and licks up your slick.

“Ah.” Alastor chuckles darkly. “Still so, so much more to give.” You moan as he continues to feast on your over sensitive cunt barely recovering from your orgasm.

~~~

*ma bichette~ my little doe

Taglist- @papas-ghoulette @ceafighter @ivebeenthearchersstuff @rapturenyx

A/N I had a lot of fun writing this, but life got in the way :( I hope the ending didn't feel too rushed. I hope you like it.

Something personal! This is the playlist I listen to while writing. Music definitely affects how I write in a way! So enjoy!!! (Music taste isn’t the best so beware)

Playlist

[sassypossumm]

The Rat Bastard

If it pleases the court, I'd like to present my latest horny thot... Rat Bastard!Miguel (🔞 just...self indulgent horniness)

This man is absolutely feral for you.

Rat Bastard!Miguel loves nothing more than stripping you naked, most likely tearing your clothing in the process.

He'd keep you spread and stuffed full of his cock all the time if he had his way, but unfortunately reality gets in the way.

Rat Bastard!Miguel is as brutal in his business dealings as he is when he's fucking you into the mattress. It's not uncommon for him to come home with blood splatters on his shoes and dress shirt.

But no matter how mercilessly he pounds you into the sheets, he never leaves bruises on your delicate skin.

"You bruise like a peach, hermosa." He murmurs against your skin as he sucks and nips a path down your neck, shushing away your protests as he rips yet another pair of your incredibly expensive panties.

Rat Bastard!Miguel is also the biggest hypocrite. Will he cover you in bruises? No. But will he cover you in hickies? Absolutely. Slap your ass red? Hell yes.

After sufficiently littering your inner thighs with hickies, and only after he's left your clit horribly puffy and overstimulated, Rat Bastard!Miguel will flip you over and pull you to you knees by your bound hands.

"Tell me how much you want it, baby girl." He rasps in your ear, nudging your tender clit with the tip of his cock. He smirks when you twitch and cry out, shaking his head and chuckling darkly.

"That's not an answer, hermosa." He bites down on the nape of your neck and hums when your body jerks in response. His cock brushes back and forth between your plush thighs, the coarse hair at the base of his shaft teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves.

Rat Bastard!Miguel loves teasing you until you're nothing more than a mewling, writhing bundle of begging and pleading.

"Please." You breathe out, barely more than a whisper, but he hears you, and he's more than happy to oblige.

Rat Bastard!Miguel slides the head of his cock into your aching pussy, and grunts as your walls pulse and flutter, squeezing him like a vice.

"Fuck, baby, you're so fucking tight." He groans, tightening his grip on your hips. You whimper quietly, and Miguel presses a mollifying kiss to your temple before leaning back and setting a brutal pace, thrusting in and out of you.

"Gonna fuck you good, hermosa." He growls, gripping your bound wrists in one hand, using the other to pull your hips back into his thrusts.

"Til you can't use those pretty legs." He growls. The erotic sound of his hips slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanied by your lewd moans as he takes you mercilessly, unforgiving and unrelenting in his pursuit of your pleasure.

Rat Bastard!Miguel loves having you come undone under him as he whispers just the filthiest things you've ever heard, promising over and over to fuck you into the mattress.

And Rat Bastard!Miguel is a man of his word. He doesn't cum until you're a drooling, moaning mess underneath him. By the time he rolls you over, planting gentle kisses across your forehead, nose, and cheeks, you're pretty sure neither your brain nor your legs work.

Lucky for you, Rat Bastard!Miguel is a master at after care. 😜

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[lancermylove]

Body Swap (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: DB x fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers

A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!

———————————————

Lucifer

Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.

If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.

He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.

On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.

But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.

Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.

You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.

Mammon

He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.

When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.

Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!

You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.

"Now, y'know how I feel..."

Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.

While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.

You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.

Levi

Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.

Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.

For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.

Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.

You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.

This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.

Satan

Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.

He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.

You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.

This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.

Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.

Asmo

Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.

Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.

Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.

One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.

Beel

He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.

Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.

Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.

You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.

On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.

For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.

You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.

Belphie

He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.

Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.

You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.

You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.

Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.

----

Epilogue:

After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.

So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."

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➣  Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open

[lowkeyren]

iridescent engravings!

in which — during the annual ball that was held with the sole purpose of finding a suitable candidate to be sunday’s future spouse, you (reluctantly) attended with no intention of winning his heart yet you were the only one he laid his eyes on the whole night.

pairing — sunday x gn!reader

༊*·˚✧.* — wc: 1k, unestablished relationship, love at first sight is real guys, idk why this took so long for me to write but it's finally here!!! likes and reblogs r appreciated, please enjoy <3

elegant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling; with a hesitant sigh, you stepped on the polished marble floors, making your way into the ballroom. having received an invitation from the family around a week ago, and though you had initially baulked at the invitation, the prospect of declining without causing offense had left you with little choice but to attend.

it's just for a few hours, right… i'll be fine.

the sounds of violins accompanied by pianos filled the air as guests engaged in light conversations with each other. there was an obvious crowd surrounding the main star of the night. sunday was dressed in a refined and elegant suit, exuding effortless grace that seemed to radiate from every movement. you glanced at him, poor guy you think, he's surrounded by endless hordes of guests trying to make a good impression, seemingly never getting a moment to himself, he barely even has space to breathe! 

you were too busy staring and you almost dropped your glass of wine as he happened to look over and lock eyes with you. 

those mesmerizing eyes of his.

you quickly regained your composure and took a sip of your wine, silently praying that the night would end quicker. yet throughout the whole night, you couldn't help but feel eyes boring into your back, it felt like someone was watching you, but when you looked around, everyone was minding their own business. perhaps you’re just getting self-conscious here.

you kept to yourself mostly, except for a few occasions where some of your acquaintances had come up to you, you guys chatted for a bit and they left as quickly as they came. but still, you can't shake off that ominous feeling, it felt unsettling. 

as the night wore on, you walked through the crowd, twirling the wine glass in your hands, the liquid swaying around, threatening to spill out. scanning the area, you spotted sunday across the room, seemed like this time you caught him staring instead. though neither of you broke eye contact, the weight of sunday's gaze bore down on you as you navigated through the crowd, the silent exchange of glances speaking volumes without a single word being uttered. 

he thinks you’re lovely, truly. the most gorgeous one he ever laid his eyes on, and frankly, he ever will. he never wants to take his eyes off of you, not even for a moment.

despite the distance between you, the intensity of his stare drew you in like a magnet. the tension in the air seemed to thicken, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach, his eyes pierced through the air and stayed firmly locked onto yours. 

with each step he took, the distance between you shrunk, until finally, he stood before you, his sole presence left you breathless. (he is the most handsome man in penacony after all) his voice, smooth and angelic, broke through the silence as he greeted you with a charming smile, his words washed over you like a gentle breeze on a warm summer's night.

you tried your best to maintain your composure, subconsciously smoothing out your attire, you could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks. you could particularly smell the jealousy from the people around you. but none of that mattered. you allowed yourself to be swept away by sunday’s hypnotising eyes and alluring words. 

“may i?”, he extends his hand, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. before you could fully comprehend the implications, your instinctive response slips past your lips.

"of course," the words escaping before your brain could catch up with your heart. you place your hand in his. with a gentle squeeze of your hand, you think he's going to lead you to the dance floor, what you didn't expect was for him to deftly slide a ring onto your index finger. a gasp escapes your lips and many others too. the delicate ring adorns your finger, it seems like it was made just for you, fitting perfectly. 

the soft strains of music enveloping you like a warm embrace as he gently leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss onto your fingers. around you, the murmurs of the other guests fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time, lost in the moment.

“mr sunday, a moment please… it's urgent!”, the interruption jolts you back to reality, sunday's gaze flickers briefly in the direction of the voice, the servant shrinks in fear as he gives you an apologetic smile. prominent annoyance crossing sunday’s features before he turns his attention back to you, his expression softening once more.

"stay here, wait for me." he whispers, his voice tingling with regret as he reluctantly releases your hand. with one last glance, he stepped away, leaving you standing alone amidst the murmurs of the other guests, the sensation of his touch still raw on your skin.

you touch the ring on your finger, feeling your heart thump loudly. this wasn't how you had envisioned the night unfolding—your intention had never been to win his heart, yet somehow, he had given it to you anyway.

sunday wasn’t paying attention to whatever the servant was saying, his focus was solely fixed on you, admiring you, captivated by how adorable you looked as you inspected the ring with faint blush painting your cheeks. sunday's eyes trace the curve of your lips, with you standing there amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, he thinks you look far more majestic than any shall ever compare.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his chest swelling with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. an infatuation that seems to grow stronger with each passing heartbeat. and the ring, a promise of something more to come, you just need to wait for him.

masterlist

[appleblueberry-pie]

Moving into a new house with Gojo & Yuuta hcs?

Safe Space

Gojo

Don't even let your mind conjure up the words to think to yourself about getting someone to move your stuff into the new house. That's HIS job.

You want the washing machine in that corner? He's got it. Oh, you meant the other corner? Don't worry, he'll be fine carrying this around, he's held heavier.

For sure has the couch on one shoulder when moving it into the living room, pecks your lips on the way in to make a point, muscles bulging as he effortlessly places the couch wherever you want it to be.

Pays for whatever you want to decorate the house.

HE'LL paint the outside aaand the inside of the house.

He'll build the damn shed in the yard.

He'll construct the bed and buy the mattress and shit. Only the best for his baby.

You like that view? Want ceiling to floor windows instead to make it bigger? He got it.

Mounts the TV on the wall and everything.

The only thing he can't do is cook the damn food, he's literally banned from touching the kitchen, you're the one who will redesign it.

You said you don't like the bathtub? Too small? Yeah, not enough room to-

Literally takes out the bathtub and has a new one brought in and installed in like an hour.

He's the only man who could possibly make the moving process a one-day thing.

Was this a set up to get pussy the same night? Yes.

Yuuta

Literally plans out the entire process with you for like so many weeks and is very excited to be able to do this type of thing with you.

He also doesn't enjoy having to pay for someone to help with the moving process when this can be a bonding experience for the both of you guys.

He makes sure to declutter the entire house before packing what he sees as important and helps you move that into the new home before getting to the fun part.

Letting you decorate the entire house is like being entirely covered by you. And he loves every second of it. So, everyday after work, you two stop by so many stores and he lets you run his pockets to pick whatever decorations your little heart desires. You like that slow cooker? Those curtains look nice to you? Super soft rug that's adorable and can go right by the bed? Stove mittens? Fluffy bedsheets? Done, done, done, done, done, and done.

Anything you want.

Loves seeing that excited smile on your face when you turn to show him what you'd think would look great on the patio or bathroom or whatever.

Loves watching you go back home to place it carefully wherever you wanted it to be.

Loves when you take laps around the house to stare at your work.

If the backyard is big, he'll help you build that big garden you want, that swing you've always dreamed of having.

Did he just hear you saying under your breath that you would love to have a fountain in the yard, too?

Would find the tools and materials and build it for you overnight.

Also does this to get pussy the next day.

Is very proud of his work when you come outside to see him finishing the fountain and you jump into his arms happily, peppering kisses all over his face.

Overall, he just loves experiencing these things with you.

[keerysfreckles]

lando not being able to be with reader!bestfriend during her birthday because its right after a race weekend and hes got media commitments. so when he gets back he surprises her by throwing her a second birthday party for just the two of them and she just gets all mushy and sappy and all she wants to do is hug him all night -🍒anon

happier — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: just a bit rushed :/

a/n: i. love. lando. so. bad.

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew how much dedication it took to be in formula one. she knew when kando signed his first contract with mclaren that his schedule would be packed week to week. so the girl felt selfish for wanting her best friend to be home for her birthday.

she called him that morning, unsure of the time since he was almost always in a different time zone than her.

"i'll try and be there next week, i promise," he rushed out before hanging up.

y/n let her day go on normally, but her mind would often wander to the curly headed brunette. three of her closest friends surprised her with a birthday dinner, insusting that no one should be alone on their birthday.

they got her a miniature cake, with two bright pink candles, and there were probably a hundred different pictures of y/n wearing the hot pink birthday tiara somewhere in one of her friend's phone.

once again, as she and her friends were enjoying the cake, she couldn't help but want lando there beside her.

she hugged her friends goodbye, and started cleaning up. she threw paper plates, wrapping paper and confetti away.

y/n sighed, while placing the ridiculous birthday tiara down on her living room table. she was aware of it being a busy weekend for lando, considering he was in singapore for a race. so calling him was out of the question.

she debated on texting him, asking how the weekend was going, but refrained.

the birthday girl turned off her living room light, before humming the birthday tune her friends sang to her moments ago, as she made her way down the hallway towards her bedroom.

the next morning, y/n was woken up by her front door closing (quite loudly she might add). at seven in the morning, she wasn't sure if her brain was comprehending anything. so she wasn't sure if it was real, or just her mind playing tricks.

she chose the ladder as she rolled over to face the opposite way.

four and a half minutes later she heard the door open and close again.

not a coincidence, she thought. certainly a burglar wouldn't close the door so loudly, so y/n threw her blanket off before opening her bedroom door. she was met with an empty hallway, only provoking her curiosity.

her sock covered feet tred through the hallway, not entirely sure what she'd meet on the other end.

she turned the corner carefully, and her eyes widened at the scene in front of her.

lando norris was in front of her. there was a decently wrapped present in his hands, and the same birthday tiara from last night still on the table. she looked around the room, noticing the few streamers taped to the walls.

"lando!" she can't help but laugh in shock.

"happy birthday y/n!" lando holds his arms open, after filling her apartment with the sound of an obnoxious party blower.

"what are you doing here?" she asks while running into his arms.

he's quick to hold her against him, spinning her in two circles. "i hoped on the first flight i could as soon as the last media conference was done," he spoke into her neck, his smile never leaving his face.

after a few minutes — yes a few minutes, y/n did not want to let go of the brit — the pair now sat on the couch. lando handed the gift to the day-late birthday girl before putting the pink tiara on her head.

y/n laughed as she peeled back the wrapping paper, revealing two new pieces of mclaren merchandise to add to her collection.

"of course," she laughs again, holding up the shirt with lando's number on the back.

the other item in the box is a light pink mclaren hat. y/n simply puts it on her best friend's head, with him adjusting it as soon as her hands leave the material.

"thank you lan," y/n's eyes are filled with adoration as she looks at the boy in front of her.

"i could never miss your birthday," his warm smile appears on his face once more.

"technically you were a day late," y/n jokes.

"i'm here now aren't i?" lando playfully states. y/n leans forward to press a kiss on his cheek, a motion both have grown accustomed to over the years.