#While crying. Do you like my sound effects :3

[tokillamockingbird427]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGemqbnY3/

HESH AND POST FEDERATION LOGAN..

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (Yes) AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (I aproove) MY AGONYYYYYYYYYYY (This is fun and enjoyable for me) RAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*Huff, sniffle, sob* Look okay... Hesh's fatal flaw is loving Logan. *Sad ass sigh* and Logan's fatal flaw is letting him. *Blows nose* If Logan told Hesh to give up on him he would. *Sobs* Because Hesh just trusts him that much. *Ugly crying*

[irisintheafterglow]

it's all me, just don't go (meet me in the afterglow)

summary: satoru is jealous but refuses to admit it.

wc: 1.2k

cw/tags: gojo x reader, arguing, miscommunication, angst/comfort, established relationship, lowercase because this was originally going to be a short answer to a request but ended up being 1k+ words (oops)

note: welcome back gojo nation, today i offer angst that started as a fluffy co-parenting megumi prompt and turned into...this. based on the jealousy prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting !! hope you enjoy :D

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

"you think i'm jealous? jealousy is not in my vocabulary, babe."

"mhmm, sure. you're not jealous and the sky isn't blue," you fire back without hesitation. what started as a petty argument was beginning to boil your blood a little too hot for comfort, and you couldn't pinpoint why. thoughts poked around in your mind of your boyfriend's arrogance, the need to be the best, and simultaneous fear that you were going to leave him. but, in true satoru fashion, he chose to be an enigma instead of communicating.

"i'm literally the strongest being in existence," he argues and you catch your eye twitch in the rearview mirror. "what would i have to be jealous about?" a part of you wanted to just slam on the brakes to see if he'd go flying forward but decided against it because of the other occupants in the car. as much as they tried to act like they weren't listening, the two kids in the back weren't very good at hiding their snickers of amusement. "like, really. i'm super hot, i'm super strong, i've got the voice of an angel-"

"i'm just saying, satoru. your behavior back there was...weird. i didn't like it," you mutter.

"and i didn't like how that guy was looking at you like you were some kind of dessert in a pastry shop," he counters. "i just...it's fine. you don't get it." your stomach churns unexpectedly at his tone and there's a sharp pain in your heart that you don't anticipate. you know he didn't mean it, but the sternness of his voice was sounding more hostile the longer you talked with him. it made your face hot, not in that butterflies and daydreams kind of way that he normally made you feel. this feeling was foreign and intense, a sensation that made you want to curl up and hide. it was the same feeling as when you were about to exorcise a curse.

when you were about to fight.

"what's that supposed to mean?" the atmosphere of the car changes in an instant and you can feel the effect your five words have on every occupant of the vehicle. megumi and tsumiki's gazes dart upward, eyeing you nervously while a robotic stiffness shoots through satoru's body. "what do i not get?"

"it's nothing," he grits through his teeth, but you're too angry to back down.

"it's not nothing, so spill it," you say and his jaw clenches. "why are you so jealous of some dude at the grocery store?"

"i said i wasn't jealous."

"your actions are saying otherwise." you start relying more on your instinct to drive you back towards jujutsu tech because your brain was starting to shut down.

"what, you don't believe me? why don't you just trust me?" he's on the verge of shouting at you. he never shouts at you. it terrifies you and it makes the two kids in the second row shift uneasily in their car seats. you don't know what else to say; your mind was preoccupied with not crashing the car and trying not to cry from the stifling pressure in the car.

"i-i don't like you right now," you force out. it's the wrong thing to say and you can sense satoru snap before he does.

"please, be my guest. go with your little cashier if you like him so much better," he spits and your body moves before you can register what it's doing. one minute, you're driving down the street toward the school; the next, you're turning into the nearest mini-mall parking lot, putting the car in park, and slamming the driver's side door behind you. you don't know where else to go, but all you know is that you can't stay in that car with satoru when he's like that. he'd never do anything to hurt megs or tsumiki, but being on the road in such a compromised mental state wasn't safe for any of you. so, you start walking.

the sun was nearly down and you knew it would be faster if you just sucked it up and drove the rest of the way, but something about this petty little fight was bringing up memories you didn't want to rehash. after you make it past the first stoplight, the telltale hum of your car's engine pulls up next to you, coming to a stop while you continue in the direction of the school. punching the hazards button, he jumps from the driver's seat onto the sidewalk to call after you, but you shake your head.

"babe. babe, please get back in the car," he pleads and you keep walking. "i'm sorry. please, come back in the car. i'll drive us the rest of the way and we can talk."

"it's fine," you state firmly without looking at him, "i'll walk back."

"i made a mistake. please, please come back in the car." he gently grabs your wrist to stop you and you shoot him a brutal glare from the corner of your eye, seeing him deflate in real-time. "please." smaller footsteps approach from behind him, and your senses snap back into place when you see that megumi and tsumiki followed satoru out of the car.

"he was stupid," tsumiki says and her brother nods in agreement, "really stupid."

"and if you're walking back to school, we're walking with you," megumi declares and the sentiment is enough to finally get you back in the passenger seat, staring out the window for the few agonizing minutes remaining of the drive. once you've turned on the tv and stuck a frozen dinner in the oven for the two children, you make your way to the bathroom to wash your face of its still-burning sensation. you've just finished drying your face in front of the mirror when he trudges in like a kicked puppy. you feel him before you see him, his arms wrapping around your torso and his face disappearing into your neck.

"i'm so sorry," he whispers and you swallow a thick lump in your throat. "i'm so sorry for what i said and what i did and how i made you feel. you were right; i was jealous. just...seeing you live out such a mundane scene as buying groceries reminded me that you could have anyone you wanted." you turn to face him with a puzzled look.

"what do you mean, anyone i wanted?"

"you could be with anyone you wanted," he says quietly. "anyone but me."

"oh," is all you can choke out before you pull him as close as humanly possible, holding him so tightly that he'd be a fool to think you would ever want anyone else.

"you could have any life you wanted," his voice breaks against your skin. "not one where our best friends die before they reach 20 or disappear off the face of the planet. you don't need to have this one. you don't need to stay with me."

"has it ever occurred to you, satoru," you murmur, "that maybe i want to stay with you? forever and after that?"

"why would you do that to yourself?"

"loving you is not a burden, gojo satoru. i would find you in any lifetime and i would love you in every single one," you vow and your chest aches when he sniffles softly.

"i don't deserve you. i really don't."

"maybe you do, maybe you don't, but that's not up to me to decide. so, it doesn't matter because i'm staying."

"you'll stay?"

"forever and after that."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[konigsblog]

Hi orla i lovee your workk <33

May i req a scenario where enemy side!könig fucks reader under the threat that he'll kill her team otherwise?? :3

LITTLE MOUSE, DON'T RUN.

könig x afab!f!reader

synopsis: your enemy finally gets his way with you, after months of dreaming of your torture.

tw: NON-CON, DUB-CON, threats, manipulation & coercion, kidnapping. dead dove: do not eat. photo credit: @ave661

translation: “davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du über das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen.” = (i've been dreaming of this, my little mouse. to rape your pretty body... i always see you, running across the field. fuck, i just want to put you in your place.)

you really didn't wanna be the reason your entire team would be murdered, slaughtered by the enemies. you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, your eyes wavering with tears filling your waterline, body trembling as he waits, sharpening his knife with a hungry gaze. he had kidnapped you after finding you laying against a tree, your thigh aching from being shot. you were positive he was going to kill you, then and there, but könig had other ideas.

he brought you into a basement, with the threat being if you didn't follow along with his orders and demands, he'd kill you, before killing your teammates as well. you began to drop your clothing, falling around your feet on the ground. you whimpered when he took a step forward, his silver eyes revealing malice and delirium.

“that’s right, follow along now... bend over for me, over the table.”

you bend over the table, your cheek pressed against the wood, the sound of him unfastening his belt causing you to shake and weep quietly, sniffling from fear. parting your thighs, the feeling of his hard, bulbous cock running over your folds causes your body to react instinctively, betraying you. a tear rolls down your cheek at the wetness, feel almost... ashamed for your body enjoying this torture.

“are you sure you don’t want this? or are you just secretly a filthy girl, my dear? you’d like to me rape this cunt for hours on end, ja? wouldn’t you?” he chuckles, a hoarse growl emitting from deep in his chest as he begins to prod at your hole, pushing inside gently.

your walls pulse and throb, clenching around the tip of his hard cock as he eases further inside. he leans down, his brute chest pressed firmly against your body, using his weight to pin you down, while cupping his gloved hand over your mouth to muffle your screams and cries.

“take it, take me deep, little mouse...” he whispers quietly, his voice guttural as he groans lowly, pushing nearly fully inside while your thighs shake and tremble, body aching underneath his bodyweight.

you want no more, but your body craves and longs for his rough touch, making you feel idiotic for sobbing so pathetically. under his gaze, you're weak and defenceless — i mean, you can't even squirm due to his heavy weight! fighting him off would only worsen the effects and his brutality; his cruelty. german curse words flow from his mouth as his broad hips meet your ass, your eyes watering and glistening, your pussy swallowing and forced open, to take each inch of the large, threatening man's cock.

“don’t cry, there is no need to act like you don’t want this.”

könig taunts you as he tightens his grip on your jaw, muffling your loud cries and choked moans, eyes wide with fear and pain, pleasure causing you gut to swirl, for your core to tighten and your stomach to churn.

your body aches, the pressure against your now weakened body has you breathless, your breathing restricted from each hard thrust. your cheeks become glossy with your tears, lips quivering from the ache, and your pussy getting slicker the more he fucks you. you're forced to listen to his pleasured, laboured breathing, your tight cunt feeling like heaven for him whilst his big cock, forced deep inside you, feels like torture. your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion, no longer fighting it, your hand weakly gripping his wrist. the impact and force of his broad hips against your ass has you shaking, pussy swelling up fron this abuse, while his balls press themselves against your tight ass.

“davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen Körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du über das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen..”

he begins to pound into your ass, fucking you with a purpose as he unleashes all his built up rage onto you, your breathing getting caught in your throat as he slams into you on repeat, making sure to hear your every scream for mercy and forgiveness.

you're bleeding, crimson coating your thighs, rolling down in pearly beads. your body aches, sore and tired, and the repetitive force against your body causes you to wail out with frustration, tears streaming your cheeks, sobbing from all the pain. the feeling of his tip against your cervix has you shaking, feeling so full with his large, veiny size stuffed deep inside your hole. you can sense he's getting closer, to releasing, and all you hope for is that he won't cum inside you, that he'll pull out. könig's thrusts become sloppy, inching even deeper inside you, your eyes closed despite the rough and intense sensation of his tip smacking against your gummy insides.

könig's places both his hands on your waist and hips, pushing fully inside, cumming deep inside your swollen folds, one last cry leaving your lips. your voice becomes strained and sore from all the screaming and sobbing, the ache between your thighs only intensifying when he eases out, growling out at the sight of your bruised cunt.

you hope that he'll let you go, force you outside on two wobbly legs, to fend for yourself. but instead, you're chained to the wall, his obsession with hurting you only growing, your body bare, bruised and covered in dried cum and blood, to be used as his sex slave for what will feel like an eternity.

[bandgie]

Who Dun It?

mystery!skzmember x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

warnings: MDNI 18+, dubious, finger fucking, intox implied, ruined orgasm, public fingering

780 words

It shouldn't feel good, but it does.

His chest is flushed against your back, making the room even hotter. You could blame the amount of people drunk and piling up, but it wouldn't be true. You like how his hands roam your body, how he gropes and squeezes your flesh. 

He has big hands, that's one thing for sure. This unknown man can fill his hands with your breasts, pressing them against your chest and jiggling the fat. His fingers find your pebbled nipples underneath the thin material of your top. 

Each tug makes you moan, each twist makes you throw your head back to his shoulder. You rub your legs together to get any sort of friction, but the man beats you to it.

His slender fingers make their way past your short skirt, under your panties to feel your sopping cunt. 

"Wet already huh?" His voice is like velvet in your ears. "I barely even touched you." You can hear a smirk in his words. "Or maybe you like being touched by a stranger. Do you like it?"

You nod frantically, trying to swivel your hips so his fingers brush against your clit. "Yes," it's a breathy answer. "I like it."

He leans down to your ear, lips ghosting over the shell. "Then spread your legs for me."

So you do, as much as you can at least with the crowded room. You moan when his fingers slide against your slit, gathering and spreading your slick. When he reaches your clit, he rubs it in hard circles. The pressure makes you yelp, hips shying away instinctively at the rough touch.

His other hand steadies at your waist so you can't wiggle too much. He grips you a little tighter when he finally sinks one of his fingers in your warmth. The moan you let out is crude, but the college students surrounding you two hardly seem to care. Their lack of attention is an encouragement to rock your hips against him.

The man, who you think you might fall in love with tonight, pumps his digit in you at a steady pace. You swear you can hear the perverted sound your cunt makes even through the music, but it only spurs you more.

His palm slides over your exposed flesh while he finger fucks you, never letting you forget how easily you opened for him. "Gonna cum on my finger huh?" He groans in your ear. "Dirty girl, don't even know who I am."

You don't, and you don't care. "Faster. Ngh~ you're so good,"

He moans in your ear at that, opting to not only go faster but to add an extra finger. It feels as though just two of his digits are a cock in you, hitting you deep and stretching you wide. You want so desperately to turn around and see who's touching you, but you like the mystery. You like that twinging sense of the unknown as the stranger brings you closer to completion.

With your clit being slapped consistently and your cervix being prodded, you can feel your legs trembling from your soon orgasm. It makes you scramble to find purchase on the man's thighs, on the wrist that's disappeared under your skirt. He lets you reach back and tug on his hair. 

His long hair, you note.

"Holy shit," you breathe. "I'm gonna cum. Cum, cum I'm gonna cum!"

He picks up his pace. He shoves his fingers so deep and fast you know everyone can hear it. Your toes curl, your eyes roll, your-

"COPS!" Someone shouts. "COPS!"

People around you begin to push one another, scrabbling to leave the apartment that's overly filled with smoke and spilled booze. They effectively shove the man away from you, tearing his fingers from your heat that makes you cry out in such desperation. 

More people hit your shoulders, some scream with laughter while running. 

You turn your head around, hopeful to find the man in eyesight. But all you see are the back of heads, then your friend's face amidst the chaos making her way to you. 

"We need to leave. Now."

She yanks you by the wrist, not commenting on the arousal dripping down your thighs or how your skirt is drenched in the front. 

Never in life have you been more frustrated, more distraught. Being dragged away while all you can remember is how well he finger fucked you, how beautiful his fingers looked and felt. His voice, his breath on your skin. And never in your life have you been filled with such determination. You'll find this man. Have him finish what he started. 

With new vigor, you head home.

a/n: can you guess who the mystery man is?? and im thinking about making a part 2 but I wanna see how this performs first lmao.

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us — chapter fifty one. the wedding cw. smut!, semi-public sex (bathroom), piv, protected sex (shout out to condoms) wc. 1,965 + 4 ss a/n: THIS IS UNEDITED. I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS MY GOD. I'm so sorry this took forever...that's my bad <3 hopefully the motivation keeps rolling and i'll finally finish this fic.

The ceremony had been perfect, something right out of the pages of a fairy tale. The venue had been small since they had kept it to close family and friends but it still had been breathtaking. Minghao had made you his best “man” and there was no place you’d rather be than next to your best friend on the most important day of his life. (and if you cried while they were reciting their vows, you’d never tell. Though Minghao had taken plenty of pictures of you ugly crying to store in his blackmail folder.)

It was probably inappropriate to daydream during a wedding, but Jeongin couldn’t help himself. You were standing up there, looking absolutely breathtaking, it was hardly his fault that his mind had wondered what you would look like, dressed in all white at their own wedding.

If he was honest, he never expected to get married. Well, he supposed that’s wrong. While he does in fact plan on getting married eventually to all his soulmates, before you had come into the picture that had agreed that a ceremony between eight people would be a little hectic. He didn’t need some grand ceremony to show his love but for now, he could dream of seeing you in a wedding dress for now.

The reception is just as gorgeous as the actual wedding, with lavish decorations and a crystal chandelier.

Currently you were being dragged from table to table, both Minghao and Jun introducing you to people like you were their child. (though Minghao would argue that him and Jun were indeed your dads).

From across the room you can feel a pair of eyes on you, practically burning a hole into your flesh from his heated gaze. Jeongin was sat at your assigned table, a drink forgotten in front of him while he stared you down. His gaze is enough to set you aflame, cheeks reddened from how intense his eyes felt against you, not so subtly running along your body. The boy was practically eye fucking you from across the room, not a shameful bone in his body. It was quite distracting as you tried to introduce yourself to Jun’s grandmother.

The two of you make eye contact and it’s impossible to look away, his deep chocolate eyes captivating you. Jeongin’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, your eyes following the movement and the cheeky fucker smirks, knowing he’s caught you in his web. With a subtle nod towards the bathrooms, he gets up, suddenly paying you no mind before striding in the direction he directed you to. It leaves you a little mystified, blinking and frozen in place. You clear your throat, turning to Jun with a small smile.

“Excuse me Junnie,” You mumble before escaping the male’s grasp, but he lets you go easily enough, too caught up in a different conversation.

As you make your way towards the bathrooms there’s a sense of heat that starts to fill your lower belly, a wave on anticipation for whatever Jeongin has up his sleeve. It fills you with excitement, hands practically shaking as you open the door.

The bathrooms are one of those fancy single ones, lights dim and fancy expensive soap. You don’t have time to admire the decore as Jeongin pins you back against the door, the tell tale click of the door being locked. He doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours, practically devouring you. It’s all teeth and tongue, groaning into your mouth desperately. The sound goes straight to your pussy.

Jeongin presses against you, already hard in his slacks, hips rutting up against you.

“Fuck. Do you even know how good you look?” His voice is raspy and deep, sounding already so gone. You can’t help but giggle, rather enjoying the effect you have on the boy.

“Mm, I have no idea,” You singsong. “Maybe you should tell me,” Your words illicit another groan from the boy before he’s picking you up and carrying you over to the counter and setting you down there. Perhaps the way he had lifted you up like it was nothing turned you on further, it would seem your baby bread has been accompaning his hyungs to the gym more often.

Jeongin runs his hands up until they’re splayed across your thighs, easy access thanks to the slit in your dress. His lips are on yours again, this time much softer, taking his time to savor your taste. Meanwhile his hands grope and squish at the soft flesh of your thighs, fingers running up until they hook under the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to your ankles.

You let out a gasp as his long fingers make contact with your wet core and Jeongin takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your awaiting mouth. You’re completely at his mercy, deft fingers circling your clit and his tongue stealing your breath away.

“So wet,” His voice is deep, slightly gruff as he nips at your now swollen tiers. “Eager are we?” The cocky tone makes you want to roll your eyes at him, but they’re rolling to the back of your head anyway as he easily slides a digit into your core, a whine falling from your lips. “Look so good like this for me,”

You can vaguely hear the sound of the music that’s blasting in the venue, the walls of the bathroom muting it but even then, the sound of your slick echoes lewdly in your ear and it heats your body up.

Jeongin is so content like this, watching you fall apart on the counter, soft moans filtering from your lips as he’s lazily thrusts his fingers into you. As much as he would love to take his time with you, his cock is starting to ache, still trapped in the confines of his slacks.

“Can I fuck you baby?” He asks against your ear, pressing soft kisses to your earlobe and trailing them down your neck. You nod your head, probably a little too eagerly but there’s pretty much nothing on your mind besides Jeongin’s cock splitting you in half. But then you remember something important and it makes you whine.

“Innie…you don’t have a condom do you?”

The question makes him freeze and if he wasn’t literally two fingers deep in your cunt you would have laughed at his bewildered facial expression. But then suddenly he’s pulling out of you, a whimper leaving your lips at the loss of his fingers filling you up. Jeongin is frantically patting at his slacks, as if searching for something, leaving you slightly baffled at the sight. Finally he pulls his wallet out and from it, produces a singular condom.

“Seungminnie hyung said I should keep one in my wallet just in case…never really thought anything about it. I’m gonna kiss that man later,” His words make you snort, shaking your head at how silly he is. But if you were honest, you’d probably kiss Seungmin later for the same reason.

The two of you don’t waste anymore time, remembering you are in a public space, at your best friends wedding for goodness sake. In your defense, your brain is no longer working, especially when Jeongin is bending you over the (very nice) counter, moving the skirt of your dress aside and slipping your panties down your legs.

You arch your back just slightly, legs spreading to give the boy a peak at your glistening folds and Jeongin swears he could probably cum in his pants. He’s quick to slide the condom over his almost painful erection, coming close to press his chest to your back, trailing kisses along your shoulder. He ruts his cock against your soaked core before positioning in front of your entrance. With how aroused you are, it’s an easily glide in, just a slight stretch that feels all too good.

Jeongin lets out a borderline pornographic moan when he bottoms out, your wet warm heat squeezing his cock feels heavenly and he already knows he’s not gonna last very long. He shudders against your body as he holds you tightly, large hands splayed across your torso.

“Fuck- You feel so fucking good,” He groans, needing just a second to calm himself down before he blows his load already. You can barely register his words, not faring any better. The sensation of being so full, of having your soulmates cock buried inside your heat is a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

The two of you simply relish in the moment for a second and while maybe Jeongin might have jumped the gun on your first time together, he promises that the next time he’ll take his time to savor you. For now he just wants to feel you coming apart on his cock.

He moves his hips rather expertly, rocking into you with strong thrusts and you feel yourself further melting into the cool counter, the drag of Jeongin’s cock against your gummy walls feels too fucking good. Any and all thoughts are leaving your head, the only thing you care about is the heady pleasure that builds steadily in the pit of your stomach.

Jeongin is pressed flush against your back, sucking marks into your skin and whispering sweet dirty words into your ear and you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

“Such a good girl, hm? Taking my cock so well. You feel so good baby…I’m not gonna last long,” He nips at the back of your ear and you nod your head in agreement.

“Innie! I-Innie…” You’re mumbling his name over and over like a chant, your walls clenching around his length sporatically. “I’m so close…gonna, gonna cum,” You gasp out, the rubber band threatening to snap each time the tip of his cock hits that spot deep inside of you. He brings a finger to your clit, rubbing the swollen button in circles.

“Go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” He says with a grunt, thrusts somehow getting even harsher and the sound of skin slapping reverberates against the walls.

It doesn’t take much longer before you’re gushing around his cock, coming with a whimper. Jeongin does his best to fuck you through your orgasm but with the way your walls clench around him has him spilling into the condom not too far after you. Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, slowly coming down from the euphoria of such an act. Jeongin seems to collect himself before you, not even noticing him pulling out. You only finally come out of your haze when you feel something damp against your skin.

Jeongin is cleaning you up, even if he didn’t cum inside, you can still feel your own release against your thighs. Slowly, he also helps you pull your panties back up before picking you up to settle you on the counter. He fusses over you, smoothing your hair down and fixing your dress and your heart flutters in your chest at how attentive the younger boy is after having just dicked you down. You giggle before wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss, one that he happily melts into.

When you two pull away, he’s giving you that bright fox-like smile, dimples practically blinding you as he helps you off the counter.

“C’mon baby. Let’s go dance and hope that your friends didn’t notice your disappearance,” You snort.

“Even if they didn’t, I think the hickies speak for themselves,” Jeongin has the gall to blush, his tongue running along his teeth.

“Sorry, not sorry,”

“You are such a brat,”

“Guilty!”

You roll your eyes, spanking him before moving towards the door.

“Let’s go dance baby bread,”

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[moonstruckme]

i am also sick and now dreaming of comfort from Steve :( hereby requesting a sick fic with Steve and gn!reader pls and thank you (when/if you feel like it!!)

Thanks for requesting babe <3

Steve Harrington x gn!reader ♡ 915 words

When Steve knocks for the third time, you relent. 

You cover your mouth and nose with your blanket as you open the door and block the entrance with your arm. “Don’t come in here,” you warn. 

Steve pushes past your arm easily. He’s carrying a small plastic bag. “How am I gonna make your soup from out there, genius?” 

“Steve, I’m serious,” you say, though you close the door behind him before tailing him into the kitchen. “You don’t want to catch this.” 

He sets his bag on the counter and turns on you. You’re not prepared for his hands on your face, cool and unbelievably soothing. He frowns. “I can tell," he says. "Has it been this bad all week?” 

You’re so tempted to fall asleep in the safe haven of his palms that it takes you a second to answer.

“Pretty much,” you admit. 

Steve hums and thumbs a line down your cheek. “I should have come sooner.” 

“You shouldn’t be here now,” you say, but the fight is going out of you with every second of tenderness. You’ve been pathetically lonesome this last week, filling your home with tissues and discarded dishes while telling Steve over the phone that you weren’t that sick and then indulging in copious amounts of self-pity while walking to the store to restock on drugs and cough drops. 

“You should’a had someone to take care of you,” Steve argues gently. 

“I’m fine.” 

His smile is wry. He lets his hand slip down to your shoulder, giving it a good squeeze before turning around. “Maybe I’ll start to believe you when you can say that without all your consonants sounding like bs and ds,” he says, rustling through his bag. “Deal?” 

You sigh but follow him to the stove, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the counter. “What are you making?” 

“Harrington family recipe.” Steve holds up a box of noodle soup mix. “Water and sodium.” 

You start to laugh but it turns into coughing, horrific, racking coughs that you hide in your blanket. Steve’s hand lands on your back, tentative and then firm as he rubs between your shoulder blades. 

“Jesus,” he says softly. “You okay?” 

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak as the fit dies down. 

“Why don’t you go lie down?” He sounds concerned. “I’ll meet you in there.” 

You want to stay but your cough drops are in the bedroom, so you shoot your boyfriend a lame thumbs-up as you go. Every cough ignites a brood of aches, your throat and chest and temples each throbbing with their own special brand of hurt. The one in your temples sticks around the most. You grab a washcloth after popping a cough drop in your mouth, dampening it with warm water and laying it across your eyes while you lay down on the bed. 

You’re still trying to suppress your cough despite the lozenge when Steve comes in. When you move the washcloth to see him, he looks upset. 

“Your head hurts?” he asks, so concerned you really could cry. 

“It’s just my sinuses,” you say, like that makes it better. “Is that my soup?” 

“Yeah, but it’s too hot to eat.” He leans forward, setting the steaming bowl on your nightstand. “You wanna face massage for now?” 

You blink. “Are you serious?” 

Steve grins, suavish and yet sweet beneath that. “Yeah, honey. Close your eyes.” 

You do. Steve’s hands on your face aren’t a surprise this time, but the effect is about the same. You relax, instinctively, before he’s even done anything, and when he starts pushing at the skin just above your eyebrows with his thumbs, you actually sigh. 

He laughs. “Good?” 

“Yeah.” Your voice is breathy and embarrassing, but at the moment you couldn’t care less. “Where did you learn how to do this?” 

“Hey, I know things, okay?” Steve feigns offense, but he’s no good at hiding the pride in his tone. “I’ve been sick before, too.” 

“Thank you. I owe you my life for this.” 

His voice softens. “Don't sweat it. Just relax for a bit, yeah?” 

It’s not a hard direction to follow. Steve’s thumbs are firm but kind as they press into your forehead and the areas around your eyes. You imagine your skin moldable as wax, his touch smoothing out the crackly lines of your sinuses until they’re soft and supple.

“Can I say something stupid?” 

You crack an eyelid, sniffling. “Sure.” 

“I’m feeling, like, weirdly protective of you right now.” Your surprised laughter launches you into another hacking fit, and Steve’s own smile is guilty as lets go of your face, rubbing your shoulder. “Seriously! I couldn’t give a shit if I’m going to get sick. You look all sad and vulnerable, I feel like a bear or something is going to come in here and you’re too weak to protect yourself, so now it’s my job.” 

“You w—” You press a hand to your chest, tiny tears squeezing out of the corners of your eyes. “—wouldn’t have protected me from a bear before?” 

Steve grins. “And your voice sounds hot like this, too.” 

Your coughing worsens again. You shoot him a look to say Stop making me laugh, but you don’t really want him to. 

“This is what does it for you?” you croak. 

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, there are silver linings.” 

You don’t argue as Steve unwraps another cough drop and passes it to you, placing it in your mouth as he resumes his work on your headache. You suppose there are. 

[anemoelliacia]

zhongli worships his lover <3

warnings: MINORS DNI, afab reader, zhongli is kind of possessive?, zhongli has 2 cocks, dumbification, body worship, overstimulation, implied cunnilingus, squirting, slight praise kink, slight religious undertones (implies that zhongli worships you despite him being the archon in the relationship.)

Zhongli had been fucking you for what felt like hours because of how sensitive your body had become, how your mind can't think of anything but how good you feel as he defiles you- all the while praising your body in turn. You absolutely cannot utter a proper sentence. Moans and curses are flying out of your mouth, and you're lucky when you manage to string together a few words because he has you so fucked out, practically going dumb on his cocks- he loves every second of it. He loves even more hearing you try to wail and whine anything of coherence that you can express.

At this point, all you can manage out is a cry of, "Zhongli... oh god-" followed by moans and incoherent babbles.

Which brings a smirk to his face, he only takes this as a way to tease you by retorting with, "no use calling out for your beloved archon when I'm already here fucking you."

He is the god here, and calling out for another archon won't save you. Yet, while he may be the archon here... you are the one being worshiped. He worships you in the way he assiduously touches your body. His goal is always to leave you wholly satisfied, to know that you are irrevocably his and you'll never need another. He wants you completely his.

And so, he is utterly ravishing you, looking at you with such adoration as your face contorts in pleasure. Because, to him it's practically a ritual, the way he devotes his nights to you with such zeal and passion for giving you pleasure that no one, human or god, could rival.

He wants the pleasure he gives you imbued into your body, your very soul, so instilled you'll never forget the feeling of his cocks, one pounding into your gushing cunt, while the other is hard against your clit, precum leaking from it. It's so lewd, but he lives to hear the sinful sounds that escape you as he fucks you, especially when you are so close to unraveling beneath him.

He practices pleasing you religiously, so regularly that he knows your body like the back of his hand, all your tells you're about to cum just imprinted in his brain. He sees the way your hands grasp at the silk sheets beneath you, the way your back arches, the way your breathing goes erratic, and the way your moans turn more whiny- he never fails to coax an orgasm or two out of you.

He can feel the way your walls clench around his length with each thrust, your body nearing closer to release. The sounds that fall off your lips, and their increasingly high pitched tone sound beautiful to him, like a meticulously handwritten melody as you moan his name, "oh, zhongli..."

He guides your body so effortlessly to the edge- so effortlessly into mind numbing pleasure as you cum, gushing around his cock and effectively soaking the sheets beneath you. He praises you for such a thing too, "such a good girl, making a mess for me..."

When he touches you, it never does not end with your legs shaking, and thighs coated with your own slick. There is never a time when he doesn't trail his mouth down your body, cleaning up the lovely mess he caused with his own tongue, rendering you overstimulated from the extra stimulation he provides to your swollen clit. He claims it's the best way, the only way, smirking as your thighs shake around his head.

and you wouldn't want it any other way, no, you don't need it any other way. because he is all you need.

▶ i genuinely spent so much time on this because i needed to get this idea out of my head and i hope y'all like it as much as i do <3

[sweet-as-an-angel]

kind of stupid butttttttt- Koenig/Ghost with a cat girl reader? <3

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Girl

Warnings: Implied Smut/Sexual Content, Scary Dog Privilege, Pet Names, Sadism, Masochism, Scratching, Mention of Objectification (Consensual), Collar Mentioned, Female Reader.

Ghost

Absolute menace.

The first time he found out, he was shocked, to say the least, given how you managed to hide your ears and tail so well.

But he adjusts fairly quickly.

Sometimes, to get your attention or to get you to come to him when he can’t find you at home, he’ll shake your favourite box of cereal or call “Pspspspspsps–” until you come clamouring round the corner for your food.

He’s always twitching to touch your ears. Just finds them so cute and soft, and while he would never touch them without your permission, he’s dying to.

Sometimes you tease him and bonk your head against his side, give a tiny, fragile purr, and disappear into the midnight corners of the house.

But, when you can see Simon’s had a difficult day, you’ll lay in his lap and let him stroke your head, snuggling into him.

Though it’s not that you don’t like having your ears stroked; you just know that, if you were to let Simon do it, you’d never let him stop.

You’re always really warm and purr a lot, so Simon calls you his “Little engine”.

“‘Cause I’m driving my love van into your heart :3 !” – You say, absolutely oblivious to the cuteness overload you’ve just subjected him to.

Whenever you intentionally (or unintentionally) act cute, it sends Simon feral.

He definitely has a thing for pulling on your tail and making you cry.

Sadist to the max.

“Don’t mewl like that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, your tail in one hand and the lead to your collar in the other.

“Or I might just have to make you cry louder.”

Has a collar with a pendant engraved with the words ‘Property of Simon Riley’ made for you. But he only uses this on a few occasions.

He’d never make you wear it if you didn’t want to; he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s forcing you into a demeaning position.

His names for you vary, but the ones he uses in private are usually cat-related.

Kitty, Kitten (he uses this one unironically – he’s not chronically online so he doesn’t understand the implications), Kitty Girl.

He loves you soooo much, it hurts.

Scary dog privileges for the cat girl he bagged by being quiet and mysterious (unable to talk to you because he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen).

He genuinely cannot believe his luck; he thinks you must be some artefact sent from the heavens to compensate for the trainwreck his life has been up until he met you.

He’s never felt more alive than when he’s with you.

And he’ll break the minds, bodies and spirits of anyone who tries to take you away from him <3.

König

Has a tendency to talk to you like how any owner talks to their pets.

“Does my pretty little Princess want her dinner now ? Oh yes she does, oh yes she does !”

He doesn’t mean to, honestly.

But ever since he found out you were a cat girl, he just can’t help himself.

It’s second nature to him.

He also tends to treat you as if you’re much more fragile than you actually are, but that’s because he’s never seen you defend yourself (because you don’t have to. König’s immense size and stature has effectively made you the social equivalent of Chernobyl, in that everyone remains outside a fifty-metre radius of you when you’re with him).

If you sit in his lap, he’ll actually die.

And if you start purring–

He’s GONE.

The sound is enough to not only fry his brain, but send him to sleep.

Hence he cannot sleep without you. Which makes his deployment exceedingly difficult for him.

He looks for any and all excuses to pet you.

He’ll straight-up ask you if you want him to scratch behind your ears, and he’ll keep going until you start to feel raw and ask him to stop.

He loves you so much – he can’t bear to be without you for any period of time.

Which, given how you can be rather solitary in nature, leads you to seek out the most inopportune places to catch up on some sleep.

He’s found you curled up in the wash basket before now.

And on top of a bookshelf.

And rather than be offended, he was overwhelmed by how adorable you were, curled up into a ball of almost nothing.

Yes, he did take pictures. Yes, he does keep them under his pillow so he can look at them when you’re asleep or away.

When it comes to the saucy stuff, König tends to hold back. A lot.

He’s absolutely massive and he doesn’t want to hurt you, especially since there’s more of a risk of him doing so by standing on your tail or catching your ears.

But whatever fear he possesses vanishes when you show him how flexible you are. Which has led to some…interesting positions, to say the least.

Btw, he’s a massive masochist. Just a sucker for pain.

Definitely the type to intentionally push you over the edge so you’ll scratch his back.

You have much sharper nails than the average person, which means it’s easier for you to cut deeper without applying much force.

And König loves it.

He has a high pain tolerance so he can withstand the burning sensation of you dragging your nails down his back and get lost in the fact that you’re marking him as yours.

During moments like this, he calls you ‘Kitty’ more than your actual name.

Outside of the bedroom, it’s literally impossible for him to call you anything other than “(Y/N)-Baby, where’s my little (Y/N)-Pie ?”

And you always come running because you know there’s a big cuddle attached to the end of that pet name <3.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[wolfytoothy]

don't cry pretty girl

E.42 Miles X reader

....................

here you are, roaming the street, at night, crying your eyes out.

Why?

Cuz you found out your friend was fucking your bestfriend of 3 years. You felt betrayed.

You were roaming the streets hoodie on, snot running down your face, tears, hair all messed up, scratches on your face and bruises.

You were trying to breath bit the tears just kept on coming.

"Hey pretty girl" a gruff voice said. You wiped your face as you kept on walking. "Leave me alone" you cried. In moments the guy grabbed you by thr wrist pulling you back to him and into the alleyway. His breath had the smell of alcohol,making you nauseous.

"When I talk to you you fucking listen bitch" he spat. "Let me fucking go you fucking prick, i dont fucking know you" you snapped. He pushed you to the ground and unbuckled his belt.

He backed up into the wall and brought your knees to your chest burying your face in yiur knees.covered your face. "I don't give a fuck no more" you cried bursting into tears again.

In a matter of seconds you heared yelling, then silence...then foot steps aproching you.

It was Miles. The Prowler. He got down on one knee and inspected you. "Why you out her this late at night" he asked. The voice changer effecting his voice. "Go away" you cried.

But he didn't do away. He sat down with you. He notice your voice. And how sad you sound.

"Are...you okay miss" he asked.

Luft your head up to be face to face with prowler, but you didn't care no more. "No," you sniffed wiping your face.

He stayed silent for a bit looking at your pretty face."wow" he said in ow.

You laughed a bit at his reaction. "Yea I know, I'm messed up" you sniffed. He snapped out if it and relized your state. Big as scratchs on your face, a big bruise on your cheek. And a busted lip. "Y-yea what a pretty girl like you crying like that" he asked.

You smiled a bit at the fact he called you pretty. You then proceeded to explain the situation to him. And he listened.

"Damn, that's just messed up" he said shacking his head. "I know right. But I don't give a fuck no more if she wants a man thats not a good boyfriend then that's not my problem no more, she can fucking have him" you complained "and the fact that I gotta see his damn face everyday now just got me fucked up," you said.

"Wow,"

"Tragic right" you chuckled

He nodded and got up. He took off his gauntlet and held out his hand,catching you off guard. You hesitated as you gingerly grab his hand. Then his mask retracted revealing his face.

"Listen, a pretty girl like you don't need to deal with jack asses like them," he started, having a soft accent. He wiped your face gingerly careful not to touch the scratches as he continued. "You don't need to cry your eyes out about that little hussy. Your way out of his league mama,"he smiled softly. Making you smile a bit.

"Yea" you said softly, nodding. "Good, now let's get you patched up ma" he said. "W-wait what" you stammered. "Yea, you clearly need help" he said pulling out his phone and texted some one.

"I-i,-"

"Hey what's your name by the way" he asked.

"Well thst depends are you gonna kill me?"

"Nah"

You thought for a while then shrugged. 'Hey I made it this far talking to the prowler. What could possibly go wrong. I mean yea he can do anything he want with me but hey I don't mind letting this handsome man touch me' you thought cheeckily shrugged your shoulders.

"Y/n. Y/n l/n."

"Miles, Miles morales "

You nodded and smiled. "Now come on"

.............

Hit Me up if you want a part two of this.

Love you.

Byyyyy

[upsidedownmvnson]

reader is insecure about big boobs | eddie munson

warnings: reader is insecure about big boobies :(

requested by anon <3

"What's left on the list, my love?"

Eddie Munson was a powerhouse of a boyfriend, always. Not in sheer strength, but just in general boyfriendiness. Today you guys were out and about in town, just running errands for you. So far today you'd gotten your haircut, went to the dentist, did the groceries for your house, dropped something off to your friend, and now you guys were at the mall, eating french fries and taking a little break.

Not once did Eddie get annoyed, bored, or impatient. He just followed along, performing finger drum songs in various waiting rooms while you were busy. In fact, you'd told him it would be boring but he insisted that he be your private chariot for the day.

You unfold the weak paper. It's been folded and unfolded this sheet so many times that it was just begging to fall apart. The blue pen was fading as if you hadn't written this last night.

You sigh, "just bra shopping."

"Best for last," Eddie grinned, rubbing his hands together.

Obviously, he'd never been bra shopping before. You had. You would spend the next hour trying on bras that don't fit and will end up paying forty bucks for a bra you don't even like, and barely fit into, like one weight flux and it would start gathering dust in your drawer.

But what are you supposed to do? They never have your size, and when they do they're neon pink, or have the same effect as a sports bra, and you already wore a sports bra enough. You wanted something sexy, something to push up the girls and say, "hey look at me! I probably don't have stretch marks from being pulled down to her belly button all the time!"

But you do...

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could even say anything else. Bra shopping is the worst and you'd already had a long day.

"Hey, hey," Eddie said softly, recognizing the overwhelmed look in your eye. He stood up and shimmied around so he could sit beside you in the booth. "What happened? What's wrong, Petal?"

"Maybe we should just call it," you said, wiping at a tear that managed to sneak out. "And I can do this tomorrow."

"Wouldn't you like to just get it out of the way? I can help you real quick and then I can take you home, we can set up a movie night and just relax the rest of the day? How's that sound?"

It sounded really good. And the way he spoke softly and kindly reassured you that he's got your back, and he probably wouldn't even laugh at you if you told him the truth, which you were considering. Maybe he could even help?

"What if I can't find anything?"

"Then I'll take you somewhere else."

"What is they laugh at me?"

"Then I'll burn the store down."

You laughed, and he smiled, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. He kissed the top of your head a few times before resting his chin on your head.

"C'mon Petal, tell me what's bothering you."

"Eddie, have you ever been bra shopping? I have watermelons strapped to my chest, nothing fits! And when it does it gives me uniboob. And uniboob even costs like a thousand dollars - and even then, I'm- I'm..." you sniffle, trying not to cry in the middle of the food court.

"Baby..." he cooed, holding you tightly. He didn't care if people saw the pda, he would comfort you when and where you needed it. You couldn't see his face, but where you imagined him cringing, he was just smiling sadly. He hated that you felt like this. "I wish you saw what I saw."

"I wish you felt what I felt," you said. "They're literally weighing me down."

"I have a solution."

"That's not you just holding them up all day?"

"I do not have a solution."

"It's just frustrating."

"I know baby," he said, "Can I just... I don't want to make it worse but baby, you are so gorgeous. Top to bottom, just perfection. I know you might hate them, but personally..." Eddie sighed, you were still smushed into his chest, but pulled away to see his face. He pushed his own chin into his neck to look down at you, but somehow still looked ridiculously beautiful. He grinned. "Personally I like when they spill through my fingers."

"Eddie!"

"What!? It's so true, there's so much to grab. To kiss. Ugh, just suffocate me with them so I can die happy."

You giggled, "Okay you win for now. Let's go do this - but if I need to talk to an employee I'm making you do it."

"Deal."

As you gathered your stuff, Eddie watched you. Honestly shocked that someone as beautiful as you even found time to bother with insecurities. He would do literally anything to make you see yourself the way that he sees you.

He takes your bags, holding the girly shopping bags with no hesitation or problem.

And he says, "but I can help you hold them up later, right?"

[1lenii]

Fuck them kids

Miles (G) Morales x F!Reader

⚠️⚠️⚠️THE SONG IS FOR SATIRE PURPOSES⚠️⚠️⚠️

The classic, don’t underestimate me cs I’m a girl

As you know, bonding time with miles as he proves “Fuck these kids, that’s 4ever the moto” - Kali

⚠️cursing, degrading means against children, bullying if you wanna call it that, mentions of violence(only for the game and physical irl)

For the sake of decency these middle schoolers are in 8th grade and miles and (Y/N) are sophomores

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Fuck you and your dead rat dumbass, where your mom at”

(Y/N) peeps her head from the crack of her boyfriends room, as he yelling more than normal at his game.

“Oh yea?? What you gonna do go cry about it?”

(Y/N) heard murmuring from the other side of the headset that’s seemed to respond in a more ruder tone then last time,

through the headset that rested atop of Miles head leaving a dent in the half that had his Afro and sitting perfectly on the side that had 2 braids

(Basically half out and other half braided; with a hair pick from more visual representation)

‘Seems he got distracted while doing his hair again’ (Y/N) mentally notes, and imaginary sweat drop forming next to her eye brow

“Uh Miles..”

“What.”

“Are those the same middle schoolers from down the block?”

“No..”

The uncertainty of Miles tone gave it away, (Y/N) open the door even more allowing her body access to the room, positioning her self behind Miles gaming chair

“Don’t you think you should be nicer?”

“Nice? When was that a option for you” Miles side eyes you before returning back to the aggressive violation that is shooting

(Y/N) slightly gasps, putting a hand to her chest for effect while pouting

“I’m nice”

“When you want to be”

“I guess, you should still be nicer to them, there only in middle school after all”

“Nu uh ma, fuck these kids” Miles says through the headset noise, violently pressing at his controller

“Papi you can’t be violating kids because they shooting better or whatever it they’re doing” (Y/N) says not being able to contain her laugh

“Como esto es un chiste, why don’t you come play” he’s say taking off his headset and gesturing it towards you, raising a eyebrow in the process

(Y/N) takes the invitation taking the headset and adjusting the muffs to fit her head, Miles pulls her by the waist adjusting her so she sit right on his lap, passing her the controller

“AiI Ma I taught you the basics not to long ago, do your best”

“You talking knowing damn well I’m better then you”

“Not true”

“Keep dreaming pretty boy”

*initiate operating: the mic is now on*

(For my sake a yours I’ll change of the writing style)

Kid 3: Yooo miles you back? I was getting tired of cooking you

(Y/N): oh were you really?

Kid 2: whoa.. who you?

(Y/N): his girlfriend ya kids clueless

Kid 1: booo I got a girl for a teammate wtf

Kid 2: must suck LMAO

Kid 3: don’t worry girly I’ll make sure you the one ending up clueless

(Y/N) just laughs along with Miles who whispers ‘watch yaself’ into the mic

Few minutes into the game and (Y/N) already gotten 20 points for her team

Kid 1: woah I didn’t know your that good

Kid 2: don’t praise her the game ain’t over dickhead

*the game has now ended, with a score of 15 to 62 Miles/Kid1 Wins*

The In game announcer announces as (Y/N) cracks her fingers, “and that’s how’s it’s done little boys, before ya go assuming ya better then a girl, humble yourself maybe you’ll get a girl after”

Kid 3 gf: uhhh who are you talking about little girl watch who you talk to

This random girl appears on the mic, sounding sassy like almost irking (Y/N)

“Don’t test me, who you calling little girl” (Y/N) says with a sadistic smile

“You, what are you deaf, it’s on sight when I see you, don’t talk to my man again”

And with that the girl left the call for kid 3

“Can’t wait to see how that pans out” Miles laughs into your back hugging at your waist

“That little bitch trying” (Y/N) says with the same smile

“It’s fuck them kids right?”

(Y/N) sighs leaving the conversation open for further and future elaborations

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been three days since that game, (Y/N)

Has been chilling knowing she would get touched ‘obviously their empty threats’ (Y/N) deadpanned

While walking the block she catches up with Miles who HAS FINALLY DONE HIS HAIR, was in front of 2 kids around his height and girl

“Ohoho look who decided to show up”

(Y/N) analyzes all of them, “who are you?”

“Better remember me little girl”

“I’m not so little if you looking up to me😭 it’s was on sight, right? I’m waiting and make this quick” (Y/N) dropping her bag food over to Miles, who was literally un phased knowing how this was about play out

“Oh fo’real? Ii girl if you says so” the girl from the match 3 days ago, rolls up her sleeves already swinging

(Y/N) dodge dragging Miles by the hand leaving them behind

The girl fell flat on her face with her bf attending to her

While the other kids said ‘hey!’ And a bunch of other things to retaliate too

(Making this cliche bare with me)

(Y/N) and Miles walk further and deeper into the street into the fading color of the sunset hitting the streets and the buildings with in

“Miles, fuck them kids”

Miles chuckles leaning in to kiss the top of her head, smiling shortly after

“Fuck them kids”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[writers-advocate]

beautiful mess | d.p.

description: diana wants to show you just how beautiful you are. why she admires you so

cw: light bondage, inappropriate use of the lasso of truth lol

her hands are sure in their placement. like they belong on your body. like they’ve never seen the heat of battle, only the warmth of your skin. they make you feel safe. she makes you feel safe.

“you are beautiful, my love.” her smile makes your heart flutter. or it would, if you weren’t so busy letting out muffled gasps of her name.

one arm is curled around your waist, hand splayed across your chest. the other is pressed firmly between your thighs to work two skilled fingers into your needy cunt. her knees keep your legs open despite your instinctive effort to close them and she meets your gaze through the mirror, enjoying the sight of you gagged and bound by the very thing that’s been the downfall of many an enemy.

she would have loved to hear your unfiltered babbles of pleasure, but you’re a shy thing, as you prove by breaking your gaze away from hers. that just won’t do.

“let me see you,” she murmurs with an affectionate name in a language you can’t place, let alone understand, and her hand moves up along your throat to gently take hold of your jaw and turn you back towards the floor length mirror. your gaze travels down the length of her arm to where she’s continuing to fuck you senseless, and as if to give you a show, her fingers curl expertly to press into that sweet spot inside you, causing your thighs to twitch with the stronger pleasure. her smile only grows. she loves to make you feel good.

“that’s it, love. look at you.”

that sends another wave of arousal washing over you and she huffs out a quiet laugh when more of your slick drips down her knuckles. pink spreads from your chest up to your cheeks but the next sound you let out is needy, not embarrassed. let me cum, you think.

maybe she can read your mind, or maybe she‘s just that in tune with your body, because next thing you know she’s toying with your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. your back arches off her chest with a cry and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

“so perfect. and you chose me.” you nod quickly. it’s true of course but you’d say just about anything to make sure she keeps going, to make sure she doesn’t stop pressing deeper and deeper into you even though you seem to be trying to squeeze her fingers out. your hips begin moving on their own but she doesn’t mind. “i want you to watch yourself cum. watch the beautiful mess you make just for me.”

for you, you think. only you only you i’m all yours. you’d think it was the lasso’s effect stirring up your messy thoughts but this is just how it is, how she makes you feel.

she leans down to press kisses along your tense shoulder, meeting your gaze once again through her lashes. yours yours, diana- oh fuck-!

she smiles against your skin as you let out those telltale pretty moans behind the rope, continuing to work her fingers into you languidly, helping you ride your high and murmuring sweet praises into your ear. “so good for me, my dove. see? now you understand why i can never only do this once.”

you whine and your head falls back against her shoulder when she pulls her hand away, admiring the trails you left down her palm. her lips press to your cheek before she licks up the mess with a satisfied hum. “and why i’ll need to be on my knees next.”

another muffled whine while you watch her and you find yourself squirming again, sticky mess dripping down your skin to hers. it’s going to be a long night.

a/n: wifey needs some love <3

[simphornies]

Good Morning/Afternoon/Night!

Can I please request a Vox x Female Angel Reader but it's more based on this KDrama show of Son-o Gong and Jin seon mi

Where Son-O Gong(Vox) have this bracelet on his wrist would that would always gripped onto his heart whenever and if he ever made Jin seon mi(Reader) Sad or Scared?

And the fact only Reader is able to take the bracelet off of him but the thing is...Reader still doesn't trust him and unfortunately to Box's dismay his power of hipnotizing someone doesn't work on Reader to take the bracelet off...

(PS: If Reader is happy or Content or anything but sad or scared Box will remain unharmed by the bracelet's power)

A/N: Honestly, I haven't watched that show. I wish I could but I don't have Netflix </3 Anyways I hope this is good enough for your request anon! It was a fun write. I apologize if it's not what you wanted. I also don't know how to title this <3

Word count: 3.3k (3,315)

Vox x Reader

The last extermination was filled with casualties on both sides. Hell and Heaven lost souls. You, however, lost your absolute sanity after the extermination. You tried to stop the extermination and almost caused an uprising. You deliberately caused disorder within the heavenly principles that led to you falling like Lucifer while everyone in Hell had their guards up. You snuck into a tall building with three V’s at the top, hoping someone wouldn’t catch you.

Unfortunately for you, the overlord that owned the building caught you as soon as you walked in. You two made eye contact. He was in absolute shock, maybe with a little bit of fear, that there’s now a whole angel in his lobby. Before he could make a move to attack, you flew straight towards him and clasped a bracelet on his wrist that immediately adjusted its size to his wrist. He felt a shift in his body, his heart felt tight. The bracelet was one that you had made, a special bracelet that gave you a little bit of control on the wearer and gauged off of your emotions.

You were scared after being spotted, causing the bracelet to immediately send a tightness in his chest, bringing him to the ground.

“What the fuck is this?” Vox cussed, clutching his chest with his claws, almost ripping his suit. “I didn’t do shit. What do you want from me? Who are you? What business does an angel have in my building?”

“I…” You cleared your throat and stood tall, “My name is Y/N. That bracelet is now connected to your heart. You are under my control. You won’t be able to take or break it off.” Your fear subsided and so did the pain in Vox’s chest. He took deep breaths, choosing to stay on the floor as he looked up at you. “I’ve fallen from Heaven. I want you to take me in. We can make a deal. I’ll provide you assistance and protection in exchange for a place to live and funds to do so for as long as I desire.”

Though you held yourself with confidence, Vox didn’t miss the gloss over your eyes as if you were just crying. He slowly gets up, the height difference between you two becoming obvious as he now looks down at you. “Alright, angel.” He held his hand out to you, “A deal then. Not like I have a choice, do I?”

You reached for his hand to shake it but before you could take it, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you close to him. An arm snaked around your waist and he looked you in the eyes. His left eye started to spiral, “Why don’t you take this bracelet off for me, Y/N?” His voice was laced with a video sound effect. He was trying to hypnotize you.

You stared at him with an unimpressed look. His grin faltered at your expression. “Excuse my profanity but what the fuck are you doing?”

He blinked, eye no longer spiraling. He pulled away, “Fuck does it not work on you?” He mumbled to himself.

You tilted your head before realizing what he was trying to do. “Oh.” You laughed a bit at his attempt to which he side-eyes you for. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you. Your ‘powers’ won’t work on me as long as you have that bracelet on.” You pat his shoulder, “Nice try though!”

Vox groaned, “And you didn’t start with that? What else does this shit have?”

“Why would I tell you that?” You smiled at him, holding your hands behind your back, “Just be a good boy for me and you won’t get hurt, okay? Let’s be friends.”

“Friends?” He scoffed, “I’m stuck under your ‘control’ or whatever that fuckin’ means and you want to be friends?”

“Look Mr. Flatscreen Head, do you really think I’m gonna be stuck in here without some sort of security?” You huffed, “I can’t trust you but you’re stuck with me, deal or not, you can’t get that bracelet off and if you do anything to me…Well. You’ll find out.”

“First of all,” He crossed his arms, squinting at you, “My name is Vox. Not Flatscreen Head. And second of all. That’s a fair point. You’re smarter than you look and I’m not really going to test anything out with this tacky device. Shit hurt when you first put it on.”

You squinted back at him, “Tacky?” You say, offended. “It’s not my fault you can’t rock gold.”

He gasped, “How dare you say I can’t rock gold. I can most definitely rock gold.”

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah whatever you say, Vox.” Your voice was laced with sass.

Vox didn’t want to admit it, but the way you say his name was like music to his ears. He straightened his suit and held his hands behind his back, copying you. “Whatever. You can stay here. On one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “Bold of you to order conditions considering you’re stuck in that bracelet. But I’ll allow it, what is it?”

“You stay in my room.”

“What? Why?”

“Look at you.” He gestured to your outfit and your very obviously angelic hair style. “You’re obviously not from here. And I can’t guarantee someone will try some shit knowing there’s an angelic being in here. And I can keep you safe there better than if you were in your own room, I’ll be closer so if there’s anything you need, I’m there.”

You squint, crossing your arms, “Sounds like a trap.”

He blinked and held out the wrist that the bracelet was on, “I’m the one that’s really trapped here.”

“Fine.” You say, giving in, “Whatever. But I want my own bed. I’m not sleeping next to you. I don’t know what your sinful motives are.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Of course you’ll get your own bed. Wait…” A smirk crept up on his face, “You thought you were going to be in the same bed as me?” He leaned close to your face, “What were you thinking I was going to do to you, huh? Somethin’ dirty, angel?”

Your face turns red as you push his screen away, “N-No! I…” You groaned, covering your face as you turned your head away, “Shut up! I wasn’t thinking of such things with you.”

He grabbed your chin and made you look at him. He takes in your red face, “You know…I wouldn’t mind doing some sinful things with a beauty like you, angel.”

You were going to explode and your heart felt funny. You knew you couldn’t trust demons and this might just be one of his tricks to get you to take the bracelet off. You were unbelievably flustered and tried to pull away from him but he just snaked his arm around your waist, one of his claws gently tracing where your wings popped out of, making them flutter.

“Now that I look closer at you, I wouldn’t mind being stuck to you.” He grins, a teasing tone obvious in his voice.

“Free me from your grasp, demon! Let me go!” You protest as you retract your wings into your body to stop him from messing with the base. “Just take me to the damn room!”

With one swift movement, you were now being carried in his arms. “I’ll take you there, no need to walk.” He winked.

“Stop flirting with me for fucks sake.” You complained. Your face could not get any redder at his boldness.

“Hmmm…No. It’s actually fun for me. I’m stuck under your control and with you. Might as well make the situation worth it.”

.

And that’s how you and Vox first met when you fell in Hell a year ago. His flirty advances never wavered over the months you spent with him. You often caught him trying to sneak into your bed when you were going to sleep to which you simply just roughly pushed him off with your wings, not even bothering to turn your body to face him. Over the span of the year, the two of you grew to be close friends and trusted each other with secrets. You often spent time accompanying him to business meetings as an extra form of intimidation to push other sinners to agree to the deals he offered. Your sanity was drained at every attempt. You didn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed the attention he gave you.

With your presence, his power grew and so did your love and admiration for each other. None of you admitted to each other of said feelings but to the other Vees, who you also became close friends with, it was quite obvious. The looks you two would exchange with each other, your hands brushing by each other seemingly on accident but definitely on purpose, the way one side of your wings wrapped slightly curved around him during business meetings while the other remained straighter and the endless gifts you two would give each other.

Vox quickly found out what the bracelet’s powers did to him. He misplaced his anger at you once when he was going on an angry rampage about Alastor. He said something that was directed at Alastor and you came in at the wrong time. You thought he was talking badly about you, his harsh words made you cry and as soon as you did, Vox’s heart was in pain. He clutched his chest while you weeped. He sucked up his pain and chilled his anger out. He comforted you, reassuring you that he didn’t mean for that to be directed at you. He held you close to him as you calmed down. He rubbed your back, immediately soothing you. He wiped the tears off of your face. “Stop crying, your face wasn’t made for so much sorrow.”

Your sadness was quickly replaced with a warm fuzzy feeling in your chest the moment what he said processed in your head. The instant you weren’t sad anymore, Vox no longer felt the tightness in his chest. You simply leaned into his hug, your face burying into his chest. His scent was something that you grew accustomed to so much that it brought you comfort whenever he wasn’t around. As soon as you calmed down enough, the intimate position you were both in made you two unbelievably flustered. His systems began to rise in heat but neither of you wanted to pull away because that meant looking at each other after this moment.

So you two just stayed there for a while in silence. It took a lot of bravery for Vox to pull away to excuse himself. “My system’s overheating. From the pain! The pain! Nothing else. I have to fix that. I’ll see you later.” He quickly states before teleporting away. You put your hands up to your cheeks, feeling the warmth on them, “I’m overheating too…” You mumbled to yourself.

Velvette and Valentino enjoyed the increase in power ever since you came into the picture so they dropped their guards around you, no longer seeing you as a threat after a while. You and Velvette would often chat with each other, talking shit about anything and everything you both found entertaining. She’d constantly post pictures of you two whenever you would hang out with her. You and Valentino would talk about wing care all the time, often helping him clean his wings as you two talked about the latest trends and his latest porn shoots (which you would always get flustered at).

One day, you confided in them both about the way Vox made you feel in grave detail. Valentino and Velvette glanced at each other before dying a second time from laughter. You got flustered at their reactions.

“I’m so serious! Stop laughing! I’m having a crisis!” You yelled at them, your face turning into a bright red. “I don’t get it.”

“Y/N! Are you fuckin’ serious?” Velvette managed to say in between laughs, “For an ‘intelligent angel’ from Heaven” She spoke, doing an air quotes gesture with her fingers, “You’re pretty dense.”

“Oh my god. Please.” Valentino wheezed out, “My stomach hurts from laughing too much. I can’t believe you said all of that.”

“Will you two quit bullying me and tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand any of this.” You begged. You sat there, arms crossed with a displeased expression on your face as you watched them get the laughing out of their system.

After what seemed like forever, the two Vees took deep breaths in and they each put a hand on one of your shoulders.

“Y/N.” They said in unison.

“You want to fuck him.” Valentino says.

“You’re in love with him.” Velvette said, at the same time as Valentino.

You blinked at them, “No. That can’t possibly be-”

“Y/N! Are you seriously that dumb?” Velvette facepalmed, “Okay look. Think of it this way. How would you feel if Vox started dating somebody that wasn’t you?”

You pondered for a moment and you felt your heart drop. And it all hit you. You were in love with him.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, “Fuck. Fuck! What do I do about this?” Panic set in. You can’t possibly look at Vox normally after coming to this realization.

“I think you two should fuck.” You and Velvette stared at him with disappointed faces to which he responded with a shrug, “That’s what I’d do.”

Velvette smacks him in the arm before averting her attention back to you. “How about this…I’ll set you both up on a date and you confess to him.”

“A date?! Why would Vox want to go on a date with me? He doesn’t even feel the same way.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Velvette groaned, “Are you serious?”

“He literally eye fucks you.” Valentino said, grinning with delight.

“Stop! No he doesn’t.”

“Y/N. Babes. I love you. I appreciate you. But you are so fucking stupid sometimes.” Velvette groaned, “He’s literally constantly all up on you. He flirts with you.”

“He stares at your ass when you walk by him.” Valentino added, puffing out red smoke.

“And didn’t you say he constantly tries to sneak into your bed at night? The signs are all there, you are so dense.”

It didn’t take a lot of effort for Velvette and Valentino to shove you into the hottest outfit Velvette could create and Valentino agreed on. Everything happened so fast after you confided in the two that you were now sitting in a fancy restaurant waiting for Vox to arrive.

Vox was forced into the best suit, one that matched your outfit, that Velvette made. They didn’t tell him why he was going out in such an outfit or who he was going to meet. They just shoved him in a car that brought him to the restaurant. He was led into a private area separated from other tables with a velvet curtain.

As soon as the curtain is lifted, Vox looks at the table where you were sitting in shock. You get up and walk over to greet him, “H-Hey!” You nervously spoke, “I’m guessing they didn’t tell you why you were here?”

Vox took in the sight of you, internally saving the sight into one of his folders. You looked absolutely gorgeous in front of him. “No…They, uh…” He was unable to form words, too distracted by your beauty. “They just uh…” His systems started to fail him, there were sparks coming out of him.

“They insisted we go on a date together…” You blushed, looking away from him as to not look at the way he admired you. “I need to talk to you.”

He regained his composure at your explanation, “A date?! We’re on a date?” He asks, a bit too excitedly as his tone changes. He clears his throat, “Please. Please, sit.”

He zapped over to the chair you were on and pulled it out for you. You gave him a shy smile and sat down as he pushed you closer to the table before taking a seat for himself across from you. “Soooo…” He nervously fidgeted with the edges of his suit, “What…did you want to talk about?”

“Well…Well okay. Um. First! I want to take the bracelet off of you.” Your words brought a shocked expression on his face.

“Really? What…what made you choose to do that?” He glanced at the bracelet on his wrist, something he grew accustomed to.

“Well that brings me to my second point…” You nervously laugh and break eye contact with him. You fidgeted with your hair, “I think I…developed some…feelings for you?” You whispered low enough for him not to hear.

“What was that?” He leaned closer over the table.

“I like you!” You blurt out. “I think I’ve been liking you for a little bit. And I don’t want you to be bound to me by that bracelet so I’m taking it off!” Without making eye contact, you slid the bracelet off of his wrist. “I don’t need this anymore. If you don’t like me, it’s fine. I get it. I just…I needed to tell you.” You looked up at him, his face was filled with astonishment which made you nervously laugh and keep talking to fill the silence.

“I was talking to Velvette and Valentino and they were saying silly things like how you like me back! Haha…I know that can’t be true but I know I do like you. I just keep feeling all warm and fuzzy around you. And whenever you’re not in our room at night, I’d miss your scent and your attempts at sneaking into my bed. I told them that and that’s when they told me I actually have feelings for you and I just didn’t realize it. You don’t have to return them! Um…It’s fine! This is actually really silly-”

While you were blabbering over and over about how much you liked him, Vox stood next to you. You didn’t realize it until he pulled you up from your chair and held you close to him. Your body was pressed up against his and he had his hand around your waist. You turn a bright red at this action. “Vox? What are you-”

“I like you too, angel.” He spoke softly before giving you a kiss. Your wings popped out of your back in surprise, feathers all fluffed out. You shut your eyes and kissed him back, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. Your heart was pounding and you can feel his was too. The kiss you two shared wasn’t long but it felt like eternity to you both. It wasn’t until then that you realized his usual blue screen had turned into a pinkish red. Was he…blushing? Is that how he blushed? “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that. I thought you didn’t like me. I’ve just been hoping my flirting would work on you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “Well…To an extent, it sure did help.” You left a kiss on his screen.

He cupped your cheek in his hand, “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“Silly question. Yes, it does.”

You two share another passion filled kiss before continuing your date, laughing and drinking the night away.

.

“Hey babe.” Vox slides next to you on a rolling chair while you work, grinning with delight.

“Yes, Vox?” You responded, not looking at him.

“Did it hurt?”

Your attention and gaze was now on him, squinting in suspicion. “Did…what hurt?”

“When you fell from Heaven.” He winked at you.

“Vox.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Think fast.” You quickly say before smacking him with your wing, knocking him off of his chair.

“Ow! That hurt!” He whined.

You rolled your eyes and continued your work, giggling a bit. “Terrible line.”

[konigsblog]

PLAYTHING Eldricth!König x afab!reader x Tiger!Horangi

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, tentacles, exhibitionism, degradation. tell me if i missed any :3

not proofread, pls correct errors in cmmts !!!

Eldritch!König doesn't like to share, especially when it comes to his most prized possessions.

You mean the most to him, you're his precious mortal to abuse, an outlet to dump a load into whenever he's feeling particularly jealous or aggressive. His cock weeps into you, slowly easing out from your raw and aching hole. You pulse and throb around nothing, babbling and crying for him to stop, for no more, to no avail as you're silenced quickly.

König wants to show how lucky you are, by doing something he was so against. Allowing another creature to take you their way. I mean... You're lucky he's even slightly gentle.

When König leans back, allowing Horangi to take you. Horangi's claws are sharp, with fur on his back resembling a tiger. He's a tiger Hybrid, very rough with his prey. When you're bent over, Horangi wastes no time slipping his hard cock inside. Claws grip your hips tightly, keeping you close to his broad, furry hips as he slowly begins rutting into your wetness.

The sounds your wet slick drive Horangi crazy. The fear in your eyes as his claws dig deeper into your flesh, gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise and mark. “Look at you, Schatz. Are you scared of him?” König lets out a hearty chuckle when you gulp, feeling him ease further inside.

Usually König would stop around halfway, allowing you to take a good amount. Horangi, on the other hand, spares you no mercy. If you want to act like a slut around others, that's how you'll be treated. You cry out, choked sobs leaving your throat as Horangi ploughs into you. Your wet cunt stretched around his thick, girthy size, the size painful against your womb.

“Oh, stop crying, dear. You were practically begging for it...” you wanted to deny it so, so badly... But the more Horangi pumps his big cock into you, the dumber you feel. König's tentacles and cock are going crazy—he never thought this would turn him on. The suckers on his thick and heavy tentacles weep out murky fluids that drip down his chest, while König's wet, stiff dick throbs and twitches at the sight of you like this. Held firmly by the base, he strokes himself to the sight.

Horangi's thrusts are painful and aching, causing your eyes to water. Crimson blood seeps from the scratches made by the Tiger home, leaving you squirming and breathless with each hard thrust he makes with his hips. Your ass burns with each pace, and your cunny drools out sweet juices uncontrollably. You can't help how your body reacts to this pleasure. You truthfully don't want any of it, especially when he ruts into you, letting out a deep growl at the tightening sensation of your pussy walls around his cock.

But Horangi takes your mewls as a need for more. His thrusts become more erratic, effectively silencing you at the rough sensation. König watches you shake and tremble. It would be a lie to say he didn't feel ashamed for enjoying the sight of you being abused, especially like this. But his cock leaked out thick globs of his white cum, dripping down his bare, thick thighs.

“더러운 여자야, 네가 더 원하는 걸 알아.” Horangi makes sure you're aching by the time he's finished leaving one load in your slick cunt. Raw and bleeding, wishing for nothing more but the care of your Eldricth. “Please—hah... König...” you pant, rolling onto your back and covering your bruised sex with your hand for protection.

“Oh, my liebling. Did you finally realise how lucky you are?” König's slides his hard cock inside, already throbbing. Immediately, you jolt, held down by König's wet tentacles, slimy and gooey. The sounds of König's cooes can be heard, but you're too stupid to even think or speak, allowing him to use you in the hopes that you'll feel better.

His thrusts are frantic, turning sloppy as he spurts a thick and bitter load of cum into your sloppy sex. Eyes wet and cheeks raw, blood covering the insides of your thighs.

König made sure you were clinging to him all day in fear of another creature taking advantage of you, after now realising what their intents would be.

[eightstarr]

i know — van palmer.

summary: you can't remember a life before van, but there was one. there must've been one. it feels ridiculous to think about. you'd rather think about her, rather think about this— two moments then, and two moments now (and so, so many to come).

notes: heyyy i know i said i would post this like a month ago, i fully forgot!! if there was like one person waiting i'm sorry and i love you sm <3 also this ignores the plot entirely and i wanna make that very clear just in case!! it's like a nothing happened and we're all okay au! anyway here's to my loser girl and to whoever also finds themselves staring at the wall in silence thinking about her :)

୨・┈﹕✦﹕﹕✦﹕┈・୧

THEN.

"You're hogging the blanket," Jackie mutters over a mouthful of popcorn, purple polished nails tugging at the soft fabric.

She's right— you are. "I'm not," you say, and bring your legs close to your chest partly so they can offer some kind of comfort, but mostly so they're not touching the unknown dangers of the floor anymore.

The TV flashes red and Jackie's living room is bathed in it, along with all your faces.

Shauna snorts at a man getting brutally and very unrealistically decapitated on the screen and pulls her own blanket closer to her best friend before she even has to ask. They do that a lot; talk without words. Any other time you would've noticed, thought that's cute and smiled to yourself, but right now you're too terrified.

The movie is bad. Or, that's what you have to keep reminding yourself of. It's lazy in a way that's bordering on comical and needlessly violent in a way that proves that it was written by a man with interesting fantasies. You shouldn't be scared, but you are.

Another death earns you a few minutes of quiet, though you know the build up to the next one will be worse. The characters cry and fret over the dead body of their friend but the killer is nowhere to be seen, disappearing conveniently into the night. You're granted a scene of daylight but the sun comes and goes, and then the screen turns to dark violets and blues again and you're tensing up in your seat.

It's fine, at first— the pretty blonde girl is yielding a kitchen knife and walking around while her muscled boyfriend boards up the windows of the big house. Lottie shifts where she's sitting on the floor next to Laura Lee's legs and whispers about why they would lock themselves in instead of taking their chances outside, which is 'obviously the smartest thing to do'. You don't have time to process what she's saying because suddenly an ax is clawing its way through one of the windows and the characters are screaming and, well, so are you.

"Fuck!" You curse, jumping and landing yourself halfway into Van's lap, the softness of her thighs under your own, your back against her chest.

Van blinks, more startled by your reaction than the scene itself, her hands coming up to steady you and then immediately dropping back down a second after they brush over the cotton of your shirt. She lets out a shaky breath and does not think about how good your weight feels on top of her, because that would be a bad thought, a questionable thought. And it should not have been the first one to pop into her mind. Definitely not. That would be embarrassing. That would be bad.

You cover your eyes with one hand as the sounds of screaming come to a crescendo and hold one of her hands tightly with the other, mumbling sorry, sorry, sorry as if you're doing something wrong. As if you don't know that, even if you were, Van is incapable of being mad at you. Famously so. Everybody knows.

She looks around the room to the rest of the girls. No one is staring, too busy chewing popcorn and wrinkling their noses at the more gruesome special effects. Van turns her head back to you. A million thoughts rush in, overwhelming and unforgiving. Something about the soft tint of chapstick on your lips, the curve of your nose, the shape of your fingers. Things she's noticed before -Van is often greedy of all your details-, but not in this way, never from this close. She can smell your shampoo from here. Somewhere in the back of her mind, over the scent of honey and strawberries, she wonders if she's going insane.

Your body noticeably relaxes as the violence dissipates, your grasp on her hand loosening slightly. When you uncover your eyes, the final girl is clawing her way through the woods. You're unsure of how she got out of the house, but too comforted by the thought of the movie finally coming to an end to care.

Van is scared to say anything, scared to move— if she does, you might push yourself off of her, ignore her for the rest of the night because you're embarrassed. The thought is ridiculous. You'd never ignore her, you're not that kind of person, but it's what she would do. Except she'd probably never be in this position in the first place, because she'd never be brave enough to throw herself on your lap, even if she was as scared as you were. And that's just it anyway, it's not like you chose to do this. You didn't pick her. You would've found the same comfort in anyone's arms. Right? Van feels you shift closer, just slightly, like you're unaware of it. Right?

Her forehead falls on your shoulder as she thinks herself sick.

"It's scary, right?" You whisper, confusing her crisis for fear. Your fingers wrap around her bicep, soft and absentminded when they brush up and down her skin, trying to make her feel better.

Van feels her stomach flip, her hands twitch. In another world, she would wrap her arms around your waist and press her lips to your ear, mumble something stupid like if you say so, baby just to annoy you. Here, though, all she does is nod her head. She whispers back, "Yeah, it is."

She looks up at the screen, tries to be scared, to be invested. You relax further into her, personal and comfortable as if there's no one in the room but the two of you. Van blinks. She can't give you the name of the girl on the screen. A minute passes and your back straightens suddenly, but you don't rush to slide off her lap. You do it carefully, not because you want to but because you're worried about making her uncomfortable. Van wants to pull you back but she's never faced anything as daunting. She comforts herself with the thought that one day she will, a hungry attempt at manifesting or breaking a mental wishbone or something. For now, she follows you with her eyes and feels her anxiety melt away when you notice her staring and give her a smile. The movie's not yet over. She looks back. Who's the bad guy again?

—

NOW.

Van likes to pretend that she's a better cook than she is. Someone else might find it funny, annoying even, but you can't find it anything but cute. You love telling her that you've run out of food and watch her scoff and puff up her chest.

"I'll make you something out of nothing," she'll say. Then she'll open the fridge and bend at the waist, stare at said nothing for a solid two minutes before resurfacing and declaring that she's craving pizza from the place down the street, anyway, so there's no point in cooking.

At the grocery store the next day, you make sure to buy the essentials for the one pasta recipe that she does actually know how to make. Van likes to feel useful. And you like to indulge her every need, maybe a little too much.

You pick the sweetest looking tomatoes for the sauce, no real expertise behind your method— you're not exactly an amazing chef, either, but the two of you do just fine. Someone calls your name in the middle of bagging the last tomato and you turn to meet a face you had almost forgotten about.

"Katie Lopez?" Van asks again, staring at the folded piece of paper with the almost-stranger's number that you'd gotten without asking (a friendly gesture, you're pretty sure) after a slightly lengthy conversation that carried on even after your multiple anyway, I should probably get going's.

You're telling Van about the encounter while washing the tomatoes in the sink, sleeves rolled up. Your cheeks are warm with kisses like they always are when you make it back to her, as if she wants to reward you for it. You've been hers for so long, and she's still amazed at the fact that you come home to her. "Yes," you repeat. "Why is that so shocking?"

"It's not," she says, flicking the paper where it sits on the counter, kinder than her original need to ball it up or light it on fire or something even more dramatic. She moves to open the cabinet and starts putting away the canned goods you've brought. "I just didn't know you guys were close."

"We're not. She was just being polite."

Van hums. For a moment you think she'll let it go, but of course she won't. She doesn't like the thought of someone flirting with you when she's not there and she especially doesn't like the thought of that someone being Katie fucking Lopez, who's most memorable for fingering girls in the bathroom for most of your shared high school experience.

Van clears her throat and the cabinet closes with a thud louder than she intended, definitely not because she was caught up picturing you under Katie's gaze. She means to sound casual, but she's not trying very hard when she asks, "She ever try to get with you?"

You spare her a single glance, as if to check that she's serious. Of course she is. "What, in high school?" You shake your head, chuckling like the idea is funny. "No. She was more into the cheerleader type."

Van knows that you're right. Still, she squints her eyes at you, ginger hair leaning to one side when she tilts her head. "Is that a hint of resentment that I'm hearing?"

You've gotten good at knowing how to handle her jealousy. It's only fair, considering that she's gotten good at handling yours. Neither are ever that serious. "I was making a neutral observation."

You know she's creeping closer before you feel it. You know her too well. "Yeah?" She mutters, her hands on your hips as she presses herself to your back. Her nose is familiarly cold where it brushes against your neck.

You dry your hands and lean back on instinct, and she doesn't flinch at the added feeling of your weight. Van can be a lot like a brick wall, but you don't usually tell her that, unless you're feeling extra sweet and want her to grin like a cocky little shit for the rest of the day. "You were into that type, too."

Van scoffs, a soft gust of air on your neck. "I was into you," she says.

You hum, purely fucking with her. "Maybe."

"May— what the fuck are you talking about?" She pulls away just enough to prove that she's actually offended. And she is, because the idea is ludicrous and yeah, she's taking it personally. You can question Van about anything you want, except for the fact that she's been in love with you for more than half of her life. "When did you ever see me looking at cheerleaders?" She asks.

You and Van work for a lot of reasons. You work because you're different where it matters, enough to balance each other out, and you work because you're the same in everything else. You might've been just teasing her at first, but now the thought does that stupid thing where it starts to linger and -just like she had thought about you and Katie- you can almost picture it in your head, a younger Van standing on the soccer field, her eyes trailing over a girl's short uniform skirt. You roll your eyes, annoyed mostly at yourself. "Oh, don't act like you wouldn't have loved for them to shout your stupid name."

Van chuckles. She can read your train of thought like a book. She knows you too well. "Stupid name, huh? You're cute when you're jealous." And a little mean, too, but in a way that makes her weak in the knees. She won't be telling you that part. You already know, anyway.

You pull the hands that are wrapped around your waist away from you. Van lets you— she wants to see where this is going. "Not jealous," you mutter.

"No?" She teases, half-heartedly disappointed when you don't turn around to let her kiss you.

You look at her over your shoulder and then make eye contact with the piece of paper on the counter, recalling the words of your old classmate. Call me whenever. We should totally hang out. You're too old to be telling people you should 'totally hang out', but Katie Lopez hasn't changed much from the last time you saw her. You hold back the urge to wrinkle your nose at the memory of that same teenager-trying-to-be-cool smirk that she gave you throughout the whole interaction and hum thoughtfully, like you've been tempted. "Maybe I will call her—" you take one step towards the counter in a half assed attempt to reach for the paper but Van is unusually quick as she strides forward and takes it in her hands, tongue poking into the inside of her cheek as she rips it in two. "Van!" You gasp.

"What? Don't tell me you were actually gonna use it," she pouts. "You're breaking my heart, baby."

You try to take the two pieces away from her and all you earn is her breaking it in four, holding it above your head. You're laughing as you slap her shoulder. "God, you're so stupid."

Van raises her eyebrows, mismatched numbers wrinkled in her hand. She drops them on the counter in favor of cupping your face, pressing a contained short peck to your lips. Don't feel bad, she won't hold back for long. "Stupid like my name?"

"I love your name," you shake your head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I love it. Just as long as it's mine to say."

It is yours, but you know that already.

—

THEN.

Van's room smells like the incense you got her. You wonder if she used it just to appease you because she knew you were coming, but it's a silly thought. Van likes you. You know this now. She takes everything you give her (your time, your smiles, your kisses) like it's a precious gift, so you can't imagine that she would neglect an actual gift.

Your grandmother said you should light the incense before a game, to bring you good luck and calm your nerves, and you're not ashamed to admit that you bought Van her own pack the very next day. Everything makes you think about her lately, especially this kind of thing. You're not even sure that the incense works, but why wouldn't you share it with her? She deserves all of it— good luck, a stomach free of nerves, at the very least a nice lingering scent if your grandma's beliefs turn out to be a myth. But you hope they don't.

Your girlfriend is anxious more often than you are, but never really about a game. Van knows that she's good at soccer. She's nervous about other things. Keeping her side of the house clean, being able to afford Sinéad O'Connor tickets, what her mom's mood will be like tomorrow, English assignments but only because she thinks the professor is the coolest guy alive and she wants to impress him even if she won't admit it. And lately, there's another thing. She worries about whether you'll look at her one day and realize that you're too good for her.

You know about some of her anxieties, but clearly not all of them. She can picture your reaction if she were to share the last one with you, how your face would scrunch up and you'd look at her with eyes so loving and so sad. She can almost hear you ask, soft and patient, why would you think that? And she wouldn't know what to say. There's comfort in the fact that the worry is there, but it's not constant. Van only worries about that when you're gone. When you're in front of her, or sitting next to her in class, or talking to her on the phone, it's hard to imagine that you'll ever stop liking her. She takes in your smile, your laughter, your sparkling eyes and she can't think about anything else. You make all of it go away. If you asked her, she would tell you that she thinks the incense works, but only because it came from you.

She can smell it faintly from where she is now, but there are a hundred other things overwhelming her more— the feeling of your legs on either side of her, the sound of your bracelets clinking together when you move your arms to rest them next to her head and cage her in, the sight of you leaning in to kiss her. It's easy to say, she's only been dating you for three months, but Van is sure that she will never get tired of this.

She hums against your lips, something too close to a moan. Her cheeks are red when you pull away, and you're not sure if it was the sound she made or the regretful, kind of embarrassing thing she has to tell you that gave her that reaction. "My mom will be home in, like, five minutes," she says, raspy and breathy.

Her voice distracts you. Your lips are tingling. "Okay," you say, nodding your head even though it takes you another three seconds to actually process what she said.

This is where you sit up, break apart. Neither of you move.

You smile and lean back down to kiss her again, stomach fluttering from the sound of her giggling as you tilt your head back. How are you supposed to stop when she's so fucking— so cute, so handsome, so in love with you. You've never felt so secure of another person's feelings for you before, but it's impossible to doubt Van. She makes you confident, makes sure that you know at all times. Might as well be saying I love you, I love you, I love you between each kiss that she pulls you back into.

It takes everything in you to break away from her, but you have to. "Fuck, okay. I gotta go," you mutter. You have to. You'll see her tomorrow. It should be embarrassing how greedy she makes you.

She watches as you sit up on her lap, your skirt bunched up over the crotch of her jeans. You must notice her looking, because you're laughing like you can read her mind when she huffs and covers her face with her arms, her lips pursed as she suppresses an even more embarrassing sound than the one she made before.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you insist, like saying it outloud will make leaving easier. You stand up and brush your hands over your hair, flattening the flyaways. Then you grab your backpack from the floor (don't think about the pretty pin she got you a few days ago, because it'll make you want to kiss her again) and walk over to her window.

You could take your chances with the front door, but you don't want to. Van was afraid that her neighbors would see you and innocently mention it to her mom, say something like oh, I saw that Vanessa's friend came by the other day. Van wishes it could be left at that, but her mom is rarely that simple. She looked so worried as she told you about it, so ashamed. You kissed her cheek and promised yourself you'd get good at climbing.

She comes closer as you climb to the other side, getting your footing on the familiar edge of the wall, and she hisses when you let go of the window railing to reach over and cup her face. You don't have to pull for her to bend down and let you kiss her, your thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

"Please don't fall," she's saying as you make your way down.

You look up at her and smile, and Van thinks you're so pretty that she misses the mischievousness behind it. "Have a little faith in me— oh, fuck!"

Van flinches, bumping her head on the window with how quick she moves to look down at you. The sound of your laughter makes her realize your hands never left their safe grip. Her shoulders relax. "Oh my God, fuck you," she scoffs, though she's too relieved for it to have any real bite.

"What were you even gonna do?" You ask, still giggling.

She shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't know, fucking— grab you or something."

"Your arms are too short to reach me from up there."

"I take offense to that."

"Well, I'm sorry," you sigh, tilting your head. "Doesn't make it any less true."

"I better not hear you asking for my short arms to carry you after practice tomorrow," Van huffs, said arms now crossed over her chest.

You look up at her in disbelief, raising your eyebrows. "I have literally never asked you for that, you always offer."

She shifts slightly where she stands, moves her weight from one leg to the other, caught. "Because I can do it," she mutters.

"Yes, I know. You're very strong, baby."

Van rolls her eyes, choosing to believe that you're teasing her because if she believes that you're being genuine she might die.

Your feet hit the ground with a thud. You do a silly curtsy, as if to say ta-da! and Van thinks you're so cute she's certain that she'll die. You give her one last grin and blow her a kiss before sneaking away from her house into the night.

Van goes to bed with her cheeks aching from smiling, her bed smelling of your perfume, and the faint sound of her brain screaming (terrified, celebrating) you are fucked!

—

NOW.

"I wish I'd asked you to prom," your voice is muffled by her sweatshirt, lips partly pressed against her shoulder.

Van snorts, looking down at you. "What?"

"You never went," you explain, and you have that look on your face, like you've been thinking about this for weeks. Like you could cry. Van presses pause on the (admittedly) shitty action film she'd chosen and lets you try to get your thoughts out. "I really wanted you there. You would've liked it."

She lets out a sigh through her nose, a hand coming to rest against your cheek. "I really don't know if that's true, honey," she says honestly.

You straighten your back a little, a tiny frown on your face like you get when you've been challenged. "You would've liked it. You love to dance and the DJ was, like, surprisingly good. And Ms. Dawson actually said yes to a dance with Peter K., even though that was highly inappropriate now that I think about it. But it was funny at the time— and Natalie snuck in a bottle of vodka."

"Yeah?" She asks, awfully endeared even when she's heard the story a million times before. You'd told her all about it the day after prom, your voice groggy and sleepy over the phone. She had felt lame about having missed it, but a thousand times better as soon as she picked up the phone, giggling in her bed like a fool at every detail you gave her.

You wrap your fingers around the hand on your cheek, press a kiss against her palm. "You would've loved it," you say, sounding somehow more convinced than before. "I should've asked you."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I was a dick," you insist. "I was a coward—"

"Hey, no. No," Van sits up from her lazy posture, two thin wrinkles between her eyebrows when she frowns. They look good on her. You remember when they weren't there, and it always makes you a little emotional. "Don't say that. You weren't."

"But I was," you try to reason, stubborn to a fault. "I'm not, like, condemning myself. I'm stating a fact."

Her frown deepens. "Well, I don't like it. And I don't think it's a fact."

You didn't mean for this to turn into an argument, but you're not exactly thinking about that at the moment. It happens— you've let the thought saturate in your brain for too long and now you're stuck thinking that you're right. "Why are you arguing with me right now?" You ask, not being petty but genuinely wanting to know.

Van huffs a frustrated breath. "Because I thought about asking you to prom for years, okay?" She says, crawling with embarrassment. "I told myself I would over and over again and then I fucking didn't. If you were a coward, what does that make me?"

You pause, guilt swirling in your stomach because you realize all at once that you've been poking on a tender bruise you didn't even know existed. "Van," you say softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She sighs, almost a chuckle. She can be so mean to herself, so condescending about her own feelings. You know she's not laughing at you, or disregarding you in any way— it's just what she does when she feels like she's humiliated herself. Especially when you're there to watch, looking at her so kindly when she's certain she deserves none of it. "Yeah, well. That was intentional," she mutters.

You let her look away from you for a moment before you push yourself onto your knees, placing one on each side of her hips. She welcomes you like she always does when you come to sit on her lap now, her hands on your waist and her face falling forward to press kisses over your collarbone. A thoughtless motion, automatic.

"Sweet girl," you hum, guiding her head up with a careful hand, smiling when you meet her eyes. "We should've gone out dancing alone. Would've been way more fun."

Van breathes out a laugh. She wonders if she'll cry, and feels like she could. "Yeah," she agrees.

"I would've said yes, you know. I'm not blaming you for not asking me, I get why you didn't. I really do. But it's important to me that you know that." You brush a strand of hair behind her ear. It's pretty, and getting long. In no time she'll be asking you to wash it over the sink and trim it with your fancy hair scissors, like you've been doing since you got back together when you were twenty five after a stupid argument that led to a two years long break. It wasn't a good time for either of you, but you don't regret it. You have the rest of your life to live with her. Still, there will always be things like this— arguments about deep buried shame, fears that might never go away, moments you missed that other high school sweethearts didn't because their worries weren't like yours. It's sad, but not inescapable all the time. You and Van don't blame each other for any of it. But sometimes you need to be reminded of that.

"I know," she nods, her voice in that soft, quiet tone that you love but rarely get with how passionate she is. It's not a hardship, you love that just as much. "I think maybe that's why— why I was so freaked out. Like, if you said yes, it would become real."

You nod and chuckle a little, sweet and airy. "And you'd have to actually start to date me? Yeah, I would be scared," you joke.

Van buries her face in your chest with a groan. "That's all I fucking wanted," she says, feeling too honest to play along like she usually would.

You let her stay there for a while, her nose brushing against the rise and fall of your chest. Wanna be here forever, she'd told you once, with cold fingers sneaking under your shirt, more than a little drunk. You have been making fun of her about it for ages, but it tugs at something different today. It makes you pull her softly with a hand on the back of her neck, just enough to press your lips against hers, not wanting to deny her any of your warmth that she might crave.

Van hums against your lips, moving where you want her when your hands guide her own from your waist down to your hips. You press your chest against hers like you know she likes and she moans into your mouth, a hand moving to press against your back and force you closer.

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you," you mumble when she lets you pull apart, speaking close to her ear as you kiss her cheek, lips soft over old acne scars and sunspots.

Van shakes her head. "I don't care," she promises, smiling like she does when she's about to say something corny. "Look at me now," she shrugs, fake humble. "I got the girl in the end."

You laugh against her smirk and kiss her until she's lifting your hips and pushing you down on the couch, your back against the worn pillows, a hand on the back of your head in case you bump it on the arm rest. You like when she moves you around just to show off, reminds you of when you were younger and she'd flex her muscles just because she knew you were looking. She might not be the same type of strong now, but she can still pull out some tricks when she wants to. And with you, Van often wants to.

She tilts her head back when you try to pull her in for another kiss, sighing as she gets comfortable on top of you. She almost gives up the act when you pout at her, blinking your pretty eyes, but instead she leans her weight on one hand next to your head and says, "That is, of course, if she doesn't leave me for Katie Lopez's magic fingers."

Van expects you to roll your eyes, slap her shoulder so she can say ouch! and dramatically rest her hand over the wounded spot. Instead, you slide your hand over hers where it's resting against your hip, intertwining your fingers together and smiling pretty, tilting your head. "Mmh, but I have the best fingers right here."

Van scoffs, playing amused rather than speechless because she's trying not to show you how much your words get to her. It's embarrassing how proud it makes her, how quickly she melts into the palm of your hand when you as much as imply that she's good at something, that you would pick her over everyone else, that you want her like she wants you. Praise from others makes her smile and say thank you, but praise from you reaches her core, makes her dizzy. Her lips feel dry and her tongue pokes out absentmindedly to lick them as you guide her hand up. Van barely registers the movement, too busy watching your face— how beautiful that she gets to see it all the time now, that she knows all the details like you know hers.

Her fingertips come to rest against your lips and her breath stutters as she tries desperately to maintain any sense of coolness or dignity or fucking something while you kiss each one, soft and attentive. She's thinking, is she insane for finding it as thrilling as she does, even after all these years? Do you know what you do to her? You can't possibly know, Van almost decides, but then you part your lips to slide two of her fingers into your mouth and she thinks that you do. You definitely know.

"F—fuck," she breathes out, and tries to remember her original plan to tease you but can't recall your old classmate's name. "You trying to butter me up?" She asks, her chuckle trembling but deep, from the back of her throat.

Her fingers slip from your mouth with a soft pop, and Van groans. You hum, "Is it working?"

You're mean, evil. You're the sweetest thing she's ever seen. Two things can be true at once. You're a dream, and you're not like this for anyone else. The thought echoes through her skull, warm and infectious. Van smirks. "Yeah."

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader

Summary: smut smut some more smut just smut scenes. all the smut.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Sex; Vaginal Sex; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕬𝖙 𝕸𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

“Sebastian!” you moan and he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His long digits feel their way inside you, rubbing against your squelching, gummy walls. You can’t help but gasp, feeling them curl inside you. 

His mouth is against the skin on the nape of your neck and you feel him smirk. His hand plays with your breast, pulling and teasing your already hard nipple. You’ve never even heard of these things being done to a woman. Lewd, degrading, but at the same time, it feels so good! 

When you had heard the older ladies gossip about these night-time, bedroom, activities, they always spoke of how it was such a chore, and how men would just do what they had to, leaving them feeling unsatisfied to the point of irritation. Sebastian was the antithesis of these stories. He gave pleasure instead of only seeking it himself. Constantly making sure he helped you feel good. 

“If demons are like this, then perhaps being tempted is not truly such a bad thing as the church states…” you thought to yourself, feeling yourself melt under his fingertips.

He releases his clamp on your skin with a loud ‘pop’, and he looks at you and smiles. “You’re being so patient and good for me, my lady.” There's a flash of white fangs and his voice is low in your ear, punctuated by the repeated wet sounds from your pussy. 

A shiver runs down your spine that has nothing to do with the fact that he is still playing with you down below. “Keep being so good for me, darling, and you will be rewarded,” he says and plants a kiss on your forehead. You nod. He lowers his head and pulls one of your nipples into his mouth. Your skin is like burning ice, and the heat of his devilish mouth burns like the flames of hell. Your body writhes. You move to his rhythm, following his unspoken orders. A pressure builds up, starting low in your abdomen and Sebastian hears his name whispered in near reverence as you clutch at the bed sheets. You can feel yourself reaching the precipice of this pleasure. The dam is about to break; the water will spill in a matter of moments; and suddenly Sebastian is gone. His fingers aren’t in you anymore.

You cry out in surprise and dismay. The lack of Sebastian’s touch makes you feel so empty. He chuckles. His lips come down on yours again. “Now now, I can’t let you finish up so early can I?” he tells you gently brushing his lips against yours. 

 He unbuttons his trousers and removes them with his underclothes and the rest of his clothes. His cock stands already hard and dripping precum. Leaning over you he kisses you between your breasts, then your stomach,  your navel travelling all the way down to your clit. He peppers kisses all over you while his cock hovers just outside your entrance, lightly brushing against it. You shiver in anticipation and stroke his hair.

“Sebastian,” you whine, “Please!” He chuckles again, darker this time. You close your eyes as you feel him enter you. You’ve had him before but only once. His size is still novel, you feel the painful stretch. Your hands find refuge in his hair as he continues to push in. 

Though he is gentle, you can't help but feel a few tears escape. Sebastian dips and licks them off your skin, savouring the salt. You are divine. Exquisite. He pins you down by the waist, effectively making sure he is the one to control the speed and force of his introduction. Your fingers are entangled in his hair; he growls when you pull at it, and bites down your collarbone. There is sure to be a mark there tomorrow morning but you don’t think about that, because Sebastian has now entered you to the hilt.

He stills, allowing you to adjust to his girth, “Is this okay?” You nod, raising your hips to encourage movement from his side. Understanding you, Sebastian now lowers his head down to kiss you softly before starting to move. There is a slight pain but a quick-blooming feeling of pleasure. Whatever he had built with his fingers had not disappeared completely, waking up again with a few thrusts. He moves his lips to your neck and you arch your back, feeling sharp teeth against your skin. He picks up the pace. Sebastian never fails to pay attention to details. His hands are all over you. Touching you, feeling you – as if he can’t get enough. He leaves a trail of fast-cooling wet kisses over your body. 

“Is this good for you?” he groans in your ear. 

“Yes! More, please!” You moan out breathily. You have been waiting for this for so long. 

His thrusts get harder, cock bullying your cunt. You cannot fathom what makes this man so attractive. He has you under his spell, as if knowing you for the longest time. A scholar, studying you intimately. With every touch, your body responds to him. Back arching, head thrown back. And then there was that knot inside you. The pressure that just keeps building each second. 

You drag your nails down his back, hearing him growl darkly against your jaw where he had been marking you with little bites; his tongue licking away at your pliant skin. He kisses down to your earlobe, taking the soft skin into his mouth, sucking on it. You feel yourslef  getting close; your climax is imminent. You cry out the demon's name, desperation clinging to each syllable. In response, he rides into you faster, his cock hits your inside walls hard. You let out a scream and immediately his hand is on your mouth silencing you.

“My lady,” he says softly, “As much as I want to hear you sing for me, this is not an opportune time for it. Someone might hear....” He chuckles as if it is a funny joke, but you cannot spare the time to think about that. Every move overwhelms you. And here you are at the edge, and the man above doesn’t seem any different from his usual calm, put-together self.

“Sebastian…” you let out an animalistic groan, raking your fingernails down his back. You feel him shudder and then without warning he puts his hand down to where he had entered you. You felt him touch something, and then – an explosion of fireworks. Everything is a blur. Your eyes shut and you see the strange wriggly worms swimming across the darkness behind your lids. Your hips reach out to his body of their own will; you ride out your orgasm on his cock, bucking and keening.  You have to have died. No, it can’t be real. What you feel is nothing like you have ever known. 

As you come down from your high, Sebastian withdraws from inside you gently. “Wait, Sebastian. You haven’t reached your climax yet!” you protest. You may have been new to the art, but you had overheard things– enough to know this.

“I don’t wish to wear you out my lady.” Sebastian says, wiping the sweat from your brow. You look at the man. His hair is a mess suffering – in your vice like grip. His back is marked with the thin red lines your nails had bestown. But otherwise he looks impeccable. And there you were, ruffles and bundles. A sheen of sweat on your body and a sticky wetness between your legs. 

You shake your head, “Please Sebastian. Tell me what to do, teach me how to make you feel as good as you have made me feel. I want you to reach the finish as well…”

Sebastian smiles. Getting off the bed he says, “All in good time my lady. But for tonight, you have had enough. I do not wish to overwhelm you, and end up hurting you. I will take care of it myself.” He reassures, flashing you his signature smile. 

It surprises you how bold you have gotten around him but you pat the down beside you, earning you a puzzled look from the man. “I insist, my lady, I ca—”

“Yes, you can. However, I’d like to watch while you do… Please, if you don’t mind. And I would very much like it, if you held me for the night after you did.”

“Very well, my lady.” Sebastian says, his smile widening. He lies down beside you, positioning himself so you can watch, and runs his hand over himself. You stared, transfixed on the elegant movements; questioning how an act that is considered so vile by the people of society could be made to look so beautiful in reality. The long fingers and the contrasting dark nails on his length are mesmerising, and your jaw drops as you stare. 

You move towards Sebastian, and getting on your knees you put in your own hand, not fully realising what you are doing till you hear Sebastian’s voice saying, “My lady?” You shake your head and mimic his movements, stroking the warm shaft. His breathing turns short and quick much like yours had been just a little while before. “Faster, please” you hear Sebastian say, and you comply. “More, squeeze it, gently.”

Your small hands follow his every order. You can feel him getting harder than ever as he gets closer to his own climax. He stutters and white sticky liquid squirts out from his cock spilling over your fingers. You stop, staring at it wide-eyed. 

“Would you like to taste it, my lady? I’d like you to.” You looked at Sebastian. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and glowing red in the darkness. You face him, a stray strip of moonlight slicing across your naked body, the only source of illumination in the room. You stick out your tongue and run it over the liquid on your hand. To say it tasted good would have been a lie, but something about the act was so erotic that you couldn’t stop. 

A shudder under you and you know Sebastian liked it too, so you continue; putting a finger into your mouth and sucking, licking. Sebastian grabs your hair, and pulls you down onto him kissing you. “You are so beautiful.” He says, sucking on your bottom lip. “So absolutely gorgeous, I can’t believe it!”

Suddenly fatigue is hits you and you slump into his embrace. You can feel yourself winding down. Sebastian lays you on the cool sheets, he moves to get up. “Sebastian, don’t go…” you plead softly.

“I’m right here, I’m just getting a washcloth to clean us up.” He replies. He’s back before you know it and a warm cloth presses against your legs. You spread them for him and he wipes you down, cleaning himself off as well. He lays down beside you and you feel your thick blanket cover you. Sleep slowly pulls you under 

“Sebastian?” you murmur.

“Mhmmm? What is it, my lady?”

“What time is it now?”

“Midnight.”

A/N: We aren't done. There's more to come darlings.

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