#also attempt at lighting and silly colors was made

[brainworms-all-night-long]

What if I only listened to the little snail in my head telling me to draw Nine over and over again despite having numerous other w.i.p.'s

[seaofreverie]

You ever finish a drawing that you really like and then you spend the next three days randomly looking at it for minutes at a time like that could make it possible for you to absorb its alluring and magnetic essence with your eyes

[misc-obeyme]

Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[pascalswift]

BURNING DESIRE

STEPDAD!JOEL x F!READER

SUMMARY : after all Joel did marry your mother, but she was oblivious to the motive behind it. Not silly love, it’s was you. It was always you, His sweet little stepdaughter.

WARNINGS : age gap (reader is early 20’s Joel’s late 30’s), dark!joel, perv!joel, step-cest, oral (f receiving), boob play, pet names, fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, manhandling, mutual pinning, established relationship, (This is Short, sorry my loves )

JOEL MILLER WASN’T A EVIL PERSON, NO. HE WAS JUST CALCULATED. A very smart man, seemingly very stoic but once you break past the multi layered concrete you’d find someone that you’d never want to leave. Maybe that’s what enthralled your mother to jump into marriage so quickly, she truly believed he was deeply in love with her and she was he. She believed that she just happened to meet a professor at your college whom was single and yearning for the domestic things in life, but she was so utterly wrong.

To Joel miller, well he had found an in. One that allowed him full access to you, free to stare, free to do whatever he imagined without having to worry about a college or a student noticing the way he seemed to linger on you. After all, it was no accident that day when he and your mom “crashed” into each other.

So here he was now, arms crossed over his chest, Dress shirt screaming at the push from his large arms. The older man staring sternly at you as you sat on your bed promptly ignoring him. “I told your mother we’d meet her there.” Joel persisted and you huffed rubbing the heel of your palm over your eyes.

Your mother wasn’t your favorite person, she was money hungry, and self absorbed. She tried to claim she loved you, even more attempting to smother you after your father desperates this life a few years ago but time after time her true colors would peer through the blinds. So sitting at a dinner with her and her husband wasn’t something you’d like, especially if your step fathers brother/business partner was gonna be there. Your mother seemed to love his company…

Joel wasn’t dull he knew his wife likes his brother. But he also knew his brother wasn’t like that.

“Why can’t I just stay here? Tommy’s gonna be there and he’s good company.” You shrugged and Joel’s jaw clenched as he dropped his arms. “But I want ya’ there sweetheart.” Your heart raced as he walked closer to you, doe eyes looking up at him as his rough hand gripped your jaw angling your face upwards. “You just want attention huh?” Joel cooed before he bent down pressing his lips against your plush ones.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You mumbled as Joel pulled away, his brows raising as he crouched in front of you. He tossed the sheet off your legs angling your legs to the side of the bed, Your knees level with his neck. He tilted his head placing his hands on your knees as you were only in a pair of white cotton shorts with a tiny pink flower in the front center right under your belly button, and a plain pink tank top. He eyed the way your nipples imprinted the fabric of your thin tank top.

“Y’know what I mean baby.” Joel stated, his voice a bit lower. “If ya didn’t you wouldn’t be reactin’ like you are.” His hand slid up grazing your clothes nipple and you sucked in a breath. “If I give you somethin’ you promise you’ll get dressed after?” He was smirking, because he knew how to make you comply. You demeanor had changed from refusing to go to nodding with vigor whilst looking at your step-father.

His large rough hands slid up your thighs leaving goosebumps in its wake as his hands reached your shorts. He stood up hands grasping your waist as you tossed you further up the bed, a light giggle escaping your lips that made him smile as he climbed between your legs. Your heart rate was through the rough as he pulled your shorts and panties down in one go tossing them somewhere around the room.

He watched as your chest heaved and he yanked your tank top down letting your breast spring free and he groaned as he ground his hips into the bed to relieve some pressure. He leaned up taking a nipple into his mouth and your head lulled back with a whimper that turned into a light moan when his teeth grazed it. He pulled away pinching your other nipple before he lowered himself between your legs. Groaning at the mess of slick in your folds.

“Baby’s already wet f’me.” You nodded as he kissed your inner thighs, so close to wear you want him. “Word’s.” Joel muttered biting your inner thigh before soothing it with his tongue. “Just f’you daddy.” It escaped your lips and Joel nearly moaned at the way you said it, his hips moved on the mattress getting some relief as he finally flattened his tongue and licked a thick harsh stripe up to your clit.

You hands pulled at his hair as you moaned. Joel had quickly lost himself between your legs, it was supposed to be a little treat but it quickly just became a frenzy. His tongue dipping into your tight hole as You writhed. His arms were locked under your thigh pushing your stomach down not giving you much room to move. “s’good- mmgh”

Joel sucked your bundle of nerves harshly before, letting his tongue trace it before his hang slipped lower and his thumb pressed on your clit pulling up lightly, watching as you held onto your breast absentmindedly pinching and pulling at your nipples, before he returning to sucking and you felt tears brim your eyes as your abdomen felt hot. “D-daddy.” You whined as his other hang slid up between your boobs and both of your hands grabbed onto his larger one.

“I know baby, your bein’ so good f’daddy.” He mumbled as he used the pad of his tongue to lick down towards your weeping hole. His free hand that you were holding coming down as he poked at it with his index finger. Your hips jerked and you whimpered. “Gotta get you ready for later princess, ya’ want that hm?” You nodded eagerly but moaned loudly when you felt his thick finger enter inside you. Joel himself moaning at how warm and tight your walls were, barley just accepting his one finger he could only image what his cock would feel like inside of you.

He was so tempted to just fuck you after this but he didn’t wanna raise any flags. His finger pumped in and out of you and he already felt the way you clenched down on his one finger, your cries only spurring him on. Without warning he pushed his middle finger inside of your hole that was pouring arousal. The stretch was a sweet burn but quickly became just sweet as Joel’s mouth went back on your clit and his fingers pumped deeply inside of you.

He curled his fingers upward and you let out a particularly loud moan as the coil tightened in your stomach and heat slowly started to build up. “P-please- mgh. Daddy I’m g-“ Joel only sped up watching as your face contorted into pleasure. Mouth open with harsh breaths and brows furrowed. He curled his fingers up and sucked on your bundle of nerves watching as your orgasm hit you.

As he fucked you through your orgasm you were sure you blacked out for a minute. The pleasure washed over your body making your head push further into your pillow as you babbled incoherently. When you finally came down from jumping multiple feet in the air you felt Joel’s mouth still on your clit, his fingers still inside of you and your thighs attempted to close. Only to be cut short by his strength. “Daddy s’to much- m-“ you were unable to form a coherent sentence as Joel kept going, seemingly In a trance.

Tears started to fall down your cheeks as you yanked on his hair attempting to push him back but not outwardly telling him to stop, the pleasure being to enjoyable. “Gimmie one more baby.” His voice was raspy as he lifted his head only for a second before returning back to his place between your thighs pulling his fingers from your slick full hole. His fingers covered in your arousal as he smeared it over your clit, hearing your whimper of emptiness.

His hand slid up your neck and his finger tapped your bottom lip letting you taste yourself while he used his tongue to make you cum again.

Before you reached dinner you had already came three times, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle later.

thanks for reading <333

if you wanna be tagged just lmk and message me with requests I’m happy to write mostly everything <33

[fantomas0]

Bubblegum Pink

fandom: harry potter

pairing: tom riddle x bimbo!reader

description: Tom Riddle hates your guts. But he can use your stupidity to his own advantage.

word count: 4,4k

warnings!: rough sex, hate fuck, verbal humiliation, face slapping, face fucking, rape/non-con, possessive!tom riddle, dominant!tom riddle, dumb!reader, manhandling, coquette!reader, the color pink, extremely dubious consent, love potion, attempted rape, praise kink.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ bubblegum pink ╰──────༺♡༻──────╯

Tom Riddle hated everything about you. Especially your astounding stupidity that seemed to have no bounds. He was staring at you while trying to study at the library where a few tables seated with students separated you from him. He should’ve been studying, he had a lot of assignments to work ahead on, but instead, here were you, for no other reason but do distract him. Tom had no idea why you even came, it’s not like you were going to learn anything. You were the weakling in your year, and he had no idea how you managed to pass all the classes enough to get to Seventh Year. Whenever professors asked you a question in class, you only blinked at them in confusion, and instead of answering you chewed on that ridiculous bubble gum that was always in your mouth. Tom had never tasted it and he had no intention to indulge in muggle things like that, not only because it reminded him of you, but because wanted to separate himself from mudbloods like you as well as he could.

That’s what you were — a mudblood. That was enough of a reason to hate you. But of course, as everything with you, being a dumb mudblood was not the only sin of yours. He hated your hair, your clothes, your bubbly personality, your Hufflepuff house, that silly pink bubble gum always making you slur your words. Tom could swear you never did any of the schoolwork yourself, you had some smart friends who were always there to help you out. Why would anyone want to be your friend was also a mystery to him.

You were incredibly annoying. Even now, at the library where everyone was supposed to be working you were whispering something into your Hufflepuff best friend’s ear, then laughing when he whispered something back. Your laugh was quiet and barely audible, but he was looking at you, and he knew you were laughing, he saw the way your breasts wiggled under your uniform shirt. He sneered at the sight, his eyes involuntarily lingering on the rest of your body, starting with those plump breasts that the buttons of your shirt seemed to barely hold up, moving to your scandalously short uniform skirt—Tom had no idea why none of the professors ever pointed out to you that dressing like a whore was inappropriate—ending with your light pink tights and hot pink high heels. The only thing you weren’t that stupid about was the dress code — you knew it and still decided to break the rules every day. Wearing pink wasn’t prohibited, as weren’t high heels or that childish pink bow that held your hair away from your face, but it didn’t go well with your Hufflepuff-yellow tie or scarf, and yet you didn’t seem to care. You loved pink. You were a stupid little mudblood who wore pink and chewed bubble gum and made him crazy mad. He hated you for that too. He felt his jaw clench to the point of breaking when you leaned into the friend you came here with to whisper something in his ear too, and as you did, the first button of your shirt popped open.

Tom stood up, his chair scraping the ground. He gathered his books and scrolls in record speed. He passed your table as he found his way to the exit, and when you saw him, you beamed up at him as if you’ve never been happier to see anyone else. You were so unbearably nice to everyone, greeting and helping everyone out and thanking for every little thing someone did for you. It was only a matter of time before someone decided to exploit that mix of kind and dumb that you unfortunately were an embodiment of. Your lush body and skimpy fashion were of no help to your cause.

“Hi, Tom!” you cheered, eyes going wide, teeth grinding on that sodding bubble gum. Your exclamation was so loud that the four people at your table and a few behind you tried to shush you, but you didn’t seem to realize you did something wrong — you probably didn’t even know you were at the library, and that’s how you got here.

Trying to gather himself when all he wished was to curse that foolish smile off your face, Tom answered calmly, “Hello.” He couldn’t show how much he hated you, he couldn’t cause any suspicion, so he treated you just like everybody else — politely, indifferently.

Your smile widened even more—was that possible?—when he answered your greeting.

He was a lot of things, but indifferent when it came to you was not one of them.

The quidditch game was supposed to start in fifteen minutes, and you had lost your wand.

It was an accident, you didn’t mean to lose it, you were walking to the quidditch stadium, crossing the bridge, when a small bowtruckle caught your attention. You stopped, ran to the side of the bridge, and beamed at the tiny green creature. It looked almost the same as the spring grass around it, but you were good at spotting the little things, at least that’s what you thought about yourself, so when you saw this bowtruckle, you couldn’t help but greet it, “Hey, little guy, what are you doing down there?”

You thought it might want to climb up, but it was too small, so you decided the best thing to do was to use your wand and pull it up. You took out your wand, pointed it at the bowtruckle… and your wand fell! You panicked, ran down the bridge to the spot where you saw your wand fall wand and started searching for it. But neither your wand nor the bowtruckle were anywhere to be seen…

None other than Tom Riddle found you on your knees on the grass, desperately trying to find your wand. You didn’t hear him come, so when he said, “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the game?” you gasped, flinching, and turned around to see him right behind you. His gaze was dark and focused on where you were kneeling. You smiled at him, as you always did, although this time a little nervously, turning your full body to him and pulling your pink skirt down that had ridden up in the search for your only tool for magic. “I lost my wand,” you said.

He shook his head, as if it was hard to believe something like that could’ve happened to a wizard, although everyone who were your friends knew this wasn’t unusual. You saw the corners of his lips lift into a crooked smile. “And how did you manage that, huh?” he asked.

You explained to him what had happened. Tom chuckled when you finished telling that story, and something dark in his voice, something you couldn’t name and would never even dare to—something in that laughter made you shiver.

“It fell somewhere here…” you mumbled, patting the grass that was still damp from the morning dew.

Without a warning, Tom grabbed your forearm and pulled you to your feet, saying, “Accio wand,” as your wand came flying to his hand from under the bridge you lost it on.

You sighed in relief, then giggled, reaching out for your wand in Tom’s hand. “Oh, thank you… I lost it for good…”

But when you tried to take your wand, Tom pulled it away. Your frowned in confusion. He leaned into you, all the while keeping your wand at a distance you couldn’t reach, and whispered, his dark eyes piercing through you, “And what will you give me in return for your wand?” he demanded.

You blinked. “Whatever you want…”

Something glinted in his eyes, the sharp edges of his face grew severe. Then he chuckled again. “A very dangerous suggestion, little one.”

You frowned again, blinking a few times. “I’m not little,” you said. “We’re the same age.”

Instead of answering, Tom put your wand in your unsteady hand and stepped away, as if only now composing himself. Whatever confusion you felt evaporated, and you joyfully smiled at him again. “Thanks!”

He looked your outfit up and down again now that you were standing at full height. In your own opinion, your pink outfit today was really nice – since it was the weekend, you could take more freedom in your fashion. Today you decided to wear a glittery crop top with straps and a short velvet mini skirt with very high heels, but you were short so even they didn’t help your height case with Tom standing right next to you.

“You’re going to wear that to the game?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow.

You grinned at him, “Yes!” turning around to show off all angles, even though you had a feeling he had already seen more than enough while you were on your knees. “Do you like it?”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. He didn’t answer your question.

“You know that the stadium will be full of boys – both fans and players alike?” he asked.

You blinked. “Uhm, I guess so… There will be both boys and girls…” you trailed off.

“And you don’t think your clothes are too provocative for that occasion?”

You frowned. “I think they’re nice…”

He stared at you, then chuckled again. “Of course, I forgot who I was talking to. Yes, they’re nice.”

His admiration brightened your mood immediately, putting back the smile on your face. “Are you going to the game too?”

Tom once again ignored your question, his eyes never leaving your body and your face. But now he looked around as if searching for someone. “Why are you here all alone?” he asked. “Where are your friends? It’s not safe for you to be walking around all by yourself, little one. Someone might… get the wrong idea.”

You blinked, but decided to ignore the name he called you. He probably called every girl that, to be nice, the same way you smiled and helped everyone. This time he was the one who helped you.

“Oh, Hogwarts is the safest place in the world!” you said. “Nothing bad could happen to me here.”

A strange smile adorned Tom’s face. He seemed to be thinking something through.

“Oh, I got an idea!” you exclaimed. “We can go to the game together!”

As a real gentleman, Tom accompanied you to the game while you were trying to understand the meaning behind his strange words.

There was a party at the Slytherin common room, and your best friend dragged you there, not that you had any objections—you loved dressing up, and this was the perfect chance to do so. You opted out for a bubble pink colored dress with short sleeves, deep V shape neckline and flowy short skirt. Underneath you added baby pink tights with decorative bows on top. Your outfit wouldn’t be finished without another pair of bows in your hair that held up two ponytails and glittery pointed pumps.

These pumps were very high heeled, and you kind of regretted putting them on because now you were sitting on a green velvet sofa next to a Slytherin boy who claimed to be your friend’s friend and gave you a second drink of the night— and you knew you’d fall if you tried to stand up; whatever was in that first drink must’ve been strong because your head was already dizzy and everything around you seemed blurry.

“Hey, do you see my friend that I came here with?” you asked the Slytherin boy who had put his arm over your shoulders while you tried not to vomit. You were chewing your gum, and it made the dizzying feeling less intense. “I’m afraid he’ll have to carry me back to the Hufflepuff common room… I don’t think I can stand up…”

There were more guys sitting all around you and one more beside you on the sofa, and they all laughed. You giggled with them. It was funny how drunk you got so fast.

“I can take you to the common room,” the Slytherin boy who gave you the drinks said.

You smiled. “Really? That would be great! I really don’t want to bother my friend, he always has to carry me when I get too drunk…” you trailed off.

The boy leaned closer to you. You felt his breath on your lips. “Sure, love, but first, finish your drink.”

You looked down at the cup in your hands. You didn’t want to finish it, you were afraid to vomit all over the boy, but he was so nice to get you a second drink, you didn’t want it to go to waste, so you started slowly sipping on it.

The Slytherin boy shifted in his seat, taking a vial of pink liquid out of his pocket. You eyed it as he inquired, “You know what this is, love?” You shook your head, which made you even more dizzy. “This is a potion that can make you feel really good.” You frowned. “I can put it in your drink, and if you drink it, it’ll make you feel as light as a feather. See? It’s pink, love. You like, pink, don’t you?” Your eyes lit up at the word pink. The potion was beautiful. It couldn’t be poison, and it looked like it would taste delicious.

You chewed on your gum and nodded. The boys around you laughed. The boy that talked you into this opened the vial of the potion and poured its contents into your cup. He reached out his hand to your face then, his thumb brushing over your lower lip that had puckered out.

“Drink up, love. You’ll feel so good, I promise.”

You looked down at the drink that now turned a bit pink. You were ready to drink it because you wanted to feel very good, but before the edge of the cup touched your lips, someone grabbed your hand, forcing you to spill the drink on the carpet. That same someone pulled you up from the sofa. You smiled when you saw Tom’s face. You were always happy to see him, but you were even happier that he was at the same party as you were.

“Hi, Tom!” you said.

He wasn’t looking at you, though. He was gripping your forearm to the point of pain, but his darkened eyes were on the boy who gave you the drink.

“Are you fucking crazy, Avery?” Tom spat at the boy whose eyes had slightly widened, but he soon regained his composure.

“What’d you mean? It’s all consensual. She wanted it,” he said.

“You think you’re so funny?” Tom said. “Will it still be funny if I tell the headmaster you tried to feed love potion to one of your classmates?”

You frowned, trying to blink away the film of blurriness that was distorting your vision. You had no idea what was going on.

The Slytherin boy sneered, cackling, “Fuck, man, have this stupid bitch all to yourself if you want to.”

The other boys around laughed, echoing the first one.

Tom’s grip on your arm tightened as he dragged through the sea of bodies, lights, and music, and up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. He let you go only when he opened the door to the bedroom with only one bed. He pushed you inside and closed the door behind. You looked around, taking in the dark gray and green interior. You confusedly remembered that Tom was a prefect. Prefects had separate rooms. This one must’ve been his.

“Hey, Tom, why did you bring me here—” you began.

When he turned to you, the anger was gone from his face; he chuckled darkly, shaking his head to himself.

“You’re a real stupid bitch, do you know that?” he said. “Do you have even the slightest idea how fucking dumb you are?”

You flinched, hugging your shaky arms around yourself. There were marks of Tom’s fingers on the forearm he grabbed.

“Why are you calling me that?” you whispered.

He stepped closer, towering over you. “Because you are. Do you know what those guys would’ve done to you after you took that potion?”

You swallowed, chewing on your gum. “The potion would’ve made me feel good.”

He laughed again, just like those boys in the common room. “That was a love potion, you stupid girl. They would’ve raped you, gang fucked you on that very carpet and you would’ve liked it because you wouldn’t know how to hate it!” he shouted through gritted teeth.

“No…” you said quietly, feeling tears prickle in your eyes.

“Yes, Y/N, they would’ve hurt you! And you’re fucking crying because I saved you from them?” You shook your head, tears running down your cheeks as you stared at the ground. Tom grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You’re so fucking nice to everyone but not everyone is that nice, Y/N.”

You sniffled. “He was nice to me…”

Tom laughed. “Because he wanted to fuck you.”

Your eyes widened. “But—you’re nice to me, Tom…”

He leaned in. You felt his hot breath ghost over your lips. “Maybe because I want to fuck your stupid brains out too.”

He didn’t give you enough time to think over his words as his lips crushed to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth as his hands roamed over your body. His tongue fished out the bubble gum out of your mouth, transferring it to his. His roaming hand grabbed your hair by one of the bow-tied ponytails as he ripped your face off himself. He looked down at you as you breathed heavily from his attack on your mouth. His half-lidded gaze focused on you as he chewed your gum once, twice, then spat it out on the floor beside you. He pulled your ponytail back, the burning pain in your scalp making you stumble back as he walked into you until you reached the edge of his bed and fell on top of it.

“You think those guys were laughing with you, Y/N? You think they liked your jokes? No, they were laughing at you, because you’re so fucking stupid it’s ridiculous.”

You sobbed, more tears falling from your eyes, but he didn’t stop.

“But they also wanted to wet their dicks in all your holes, to rip off these slutty clothes—”

He illustrated his words with actions when grabbed the top of your dress and ripped it in half, exposing your breasts and forcing a gasp out of you. Only the skirt was left in one piece. His eyes focused on your breasts as he twisted your nipples painfully, making you sob.

“Shh, don’t cry, little one,” he said quietly, even softly, as he fondled your breasts pushing you to lie down on the bed with his body on top of you. “Those guys would’ve taken you tonight one by one. But they don’t deserve you to be nice to them. Only I do.”

He took your torn dress off you in one swift move and now you were half-naked before him. Diverting his attention from your breasts, which made you feel the cold air of the room and shiver from it, Tom grabbed one of your ponytails while he unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers with the other.

Your eyes widened when he freed his cock. Your throat went dry at the sight of it, hard and pulsing, the head of it angry red, glistening with precum. Tom grinned at you, guiding the head of his cock to your lips and forcing your head forward. “Open that stupid mouth of yours,” he commanded quietly.

You did as he said, you wanted to taste him after all. The moment your mouth open, he thrust the full length of his cock past your lips until it reached your throat, making you gag. He grabbed the other ponytail with his free hand and controlled the movements of your head on his cock, bobbing it up and down ruthlessly. More tears ran down your cheeks, and you didn’t know if they were from the crying, from the pressure in your throat or the lack of air.

“Fuck, do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to stuff my cock in your mouth whenever something stupid came out of it? Just to shut you up, little one?” You didn’t answer, only gagged as he rhythmically fucked your throat.

Tom was going to say something else but got too overwhelmed. A few more thrusts, and he finally pulled out of your throat. You gasped, trying to catch your breath, as the hands that still held your ponytail took out the bows out of it. Your hair fell free on your shoulders.

You swallowed when Tom pushed at your shoulders until you lay flat on your back.

“Tom, please—” you whispered.

“Shh,” Tom silenced you, ripping off your tights. “Getting fucked by me is all that you’re good for.”

You were wearing only your bright pink knickers. When he was them, he stopped the animalistic tearing of your clothes. He touched your privates through the fabric of your knickers softly, even tenderly. Then he slid them off down your legs unhurriedly, hissing at the sight of your exposed pussy. Tom brushed his fingers over your folds, and his cold touch to your burning core made you whimper.

“Fucking pink…” he hissed through his teeth, gathering your arousal on his fingers. His eyes briefly found your face. You felt blush crawl up your flesh. “Do you have any idea how many times I fantasized of bending you over and stuffing your pussy with my cock? Making you scream my name?” He looked down at your core, fingers suddenly rubbing violent circles over your puckered clit and the sensitive flesh of nerves around it. You whimpered, flinching under him from the overwhelming stimulation.

He pulled back slightly and positioned his cock at your entrance and grabbed a fistful of your hair, stretching your upper body closer to him, putting you into an unnatural position.

“No, Tom, you’re too big—” you cried.

He slapped your cheek, silencing you abruptly with unexpected violence. No one had ever hit you before. No one ever handled your body like this, no one ever caused you pain this way. Your cheek was burning.

“Quiet,” Tom commanded, squeezing your cheeks together, inducing more painful tears.

He watched your expression. “You’re gonna be a good little slut for me and take it, right?”

You sobbed. “Please—”

He slapped the other side of your face, and you went silent, choking on silent whimpers. “You want me to slap your face, is that how to shut you up?” he inquired, tugging at your hair painfully. “You’ll feel good, little one. Eventually. I promise.”

He thrust his cock inside of you in one go. His other hand held your left leg wide open while he rutted into you mercilessly. Your eyes fluttered shut as liquid heat coursed through your body.

“You’re so fucking wet…” he gritted through his teeth. “Gripping me like vice…”

You whimpered when he pulled at your hair as he used your body any way he wanted. The pain and the pleasure mixed inside of you and made a concoction that forced your entire body to shudder. All you could do was close your eyes, let the tears run free and whimper when his cock reached that sensitive point deep in your womb.

That fog caused by all the overwhelming sensations was briefly interrupted by another chuckle coming from Tom. “That’s what you needed, wasn’t it, little slut? You needed me to fuck your stupid brains out, that’s how to shut you up, huh?”

You didn’t answer, only bit your lower lip. You were scared to speak in case he decided to slap your for it again. Your teeth nipped at your own lip from the movement of Tom’s relentless fucking.

“Tom…” you whimpered.

He groaned at that.

You felt him let go of your hair, and when you opened your eyes, you saw and felt him lean into you until his body practically dipped you into the mattress. He grabbed your neck and began choking you. “Again. Say my name again,” he demanded, speaking into your open mouth.

“Tom…. Tom… Tom…” you kept repeating even when it was hard to speak. You had to choose between saying his name and breathing air. You chose the first one.

The new angle made your eyes water as he picked up his pace.

“You look at me when I fuck you, Y/N,” he groaned. Something deep inside you was uncurling, you felt it, and in that moment, you could’ve told him anything if only that meant he wouldn’t stop what he was doing. You wanted to nod frantically but his grip on your throat was too harsh. Luckily, he got the message. “Good girl,” he praised for the first time. “Taking my cock so well… No one else gets to fuck your pussy, understood? No one else gets to see you like this…”

“Yes, Tom, yes…” you mumbled.

He kissed you again, no, devoured you whole. His kiss was punishing. He bit your lips, your tongue, making you taste your own blood.

When he let you go, you whimpered. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna…”

“You’re going to come, huh? Go on, come all over my cock, little one…”

When you were at the precipice of a climax, he slapped your face again, four times, on both cheeks. The blinding white pain unlocked whatever was hidden inside you. You came, screaming and thrashing under him as he fucked you through your orgasm with his jaw tense as he tried to keep himself at bay a few more seconds. His hips collided with yours even after you came, and soon you felt his hot seed spill inside of you. Tom’s movements slowed and he kissed your forehead, pulling his cock out of you but still holding you down by your throat.

“You’re mine now, Y/N,” he claimed. “I’m going to fuck you in my bed every single night. And every single morning you’ll go from class to class with my come spilling out of you. And if I see you talking to any other guys, even if it’s that Hufflepuff best friend of yours, I’ll fucking kill them, is that clear?”

A lot of things were hard for you to understand, a lot of concepts needed additional explanation to you, but right now, one thing was clear as day: Tom wasn’t kidding. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Yes, Tom…” you said.

He grinned, covering your body with his, and gifted you another bruising kiss for your obedience.

╭──────༺♡༻──────╮ the end ╰───��──༺♡༻──────╯

[nexysworld]

Summary: Entertained by your desire for freedom, Doma occasionally lets his pet slip away for short bursts of escape. It's a game between you—cat and mouse. But this time, he's tired of playing.

Pairing: Yandere!Doma x Fem!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Smut, Yandere themes, dubcon, blood play, breath play, choking kink, Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, mild gore, no use of y/n, dark content

WC: 6.2k

Author's Note: This was an Etsy comm that I received permission to convert to x reader and post, which is why it may read a little different from my regular stuff/the sentence structure may be a little different. My first public writing for Demon Slayer, and I love this silly guy. <3 Also big thank you to @dollfacefantasy for beta reading for me.

Read on AO3 || More of my Work

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Your pulse pounded in your ears, the forest whirring by in a blur as your bare feet beat against the ground with each frantic step. You ignored the cramp in your calves and the fire in your lungs, forcing yourself to keep going. This wasn't your first attempt at an escape. Each time, you managed to make it a little farther before being inevitably captured and returned to your prison — the temple.

Every time, you would kick, scream, and pound your fists against his back, desperate to break free. But what good were your useless human limbs against a god? There was even a time when you had resorted to begging and pleading. Your cries fell on deaf ears as that monster had no heart strings to pluck at, to persuade.

It was a cruel game he played, letting you taste a sliver of freedom. He’d plant that tiny seed of hope, watch it grow, and then mercilessly rip it out, leaving you empty and compliant—at least for a while.

This time, something was different.

You had never made it this far in all your attempts. He had never allowed you to reach civilization before. Yet there it was, the hazy orange lights of the village calling to you like a beacon of safety. The stone fence draped in wisteria was a reprieve to the anxiety that bubbled like acid under your skin. You weren't sure if the flower would be enough to keep something like him out, but you didn't have the capacity to dwell on it nor could you afford to psych yourself out.

The moment both feet were planted inside the barrier, you dropped to your knees, rewarding yourself with slow and deep breaths. You half expected the white haired demon to jump out at you, to hear that condescendingly sweet voice tickle your ears. Yet all you could hear was the sound of the early morning birds warbling and the whooshing noise of the trees as they swayed.

When was the last time you watched the sun break over the horizon or the blue sky overhead? It had been so long you very nearly couldn't remember, but you relished it as you watched the sky shift colors from your small spot on the ground.

The village was starting to bustle to life. It was your cue to stand and brush yourself off before you got too many strange looks. Hysteria wouldn't benefit you, you needed to stay calm, find help. Maybe there would be a slayer in the village, or at least a way to contact one.

"Excuse me," you said, trying to get the attention of a passerby. The man shot you a nasty glance, grumbling something as he walked off. Not deterred by the first snub, you wandered about through the streets, looking around to see if you could find anyone of importance who might be able to offer assistance.

The more you walked around the seemingly innocuous place, the more the unease began to creep its way back up your spine, settling as a lump in your throat. ' The sun is up. You're safe, you're just being paranoid ,' you assured yourself inwardly. Despite that, you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong — the hair on your arms was sticking up, and you were antsy .

Every person you passed treated you like you were invisible. Not a single person so much as acknowledged you, much less responded when you tried to make contact yourself. It was as if you were a ghost. Even the shopkeepers and artisans setting up paid no mind to you.

Briefly you toyed with the idea of abandoning the place altogether, moving on to the next village. ' But who knows how far that is. I'm tired, and definitely wouldn't last another night in the woods. ' You leaned against the fence that surrounded the center square that made up the crude marketplace while you contemplated what to do. 'Maybe they think I'm from a low station? ' You looked down at your yukata. It had definitely taken a beating during your trek through the woods, but the design and fabric alone indicated its value. Your primary function was to be that monster's plaything, his little dress up doll. You didn't dare to think where the fancy silks and kimonos came from, you just let him adorn you as he pleased. It was easier that way. Regardless, there was no way anyone would just assume you were a common beggar.

Whatever the case may be, it was clear this village was going to be of no help to you. At best, you could hope they would allow you to sleep in one of the common areas until the next day. A beleaguered sigh escaped you, as you stared at the ground.

"Miss, are you alright?" A young man was poking his head out the door of a home, catching your attention.

You pointed to yourself, not believing that he could actually be talking to you given your luck thus far.

"Yeah you," he chuckled. "You're not from around here, and no offense, but you look a little rough."

Any offense you may have taken rolled off you like water on rubber, you were just glad someone's words were directed at you. Someone not a part of that freakish cult. "Yeah, well...it's been a long night. Say, can I ask if there's anyone from the demo—"

"You should come inside," he chirped, taking you by the arm and ushering you into the home.

"Thank you, but —" Again you were cut off as he ignored your words to call upstairs. Two young girls ran down the rickety steps, all giggles.

He patted the taller girl on the head. "Yui, can you please grab the spare yukata and lay it out for her? Ami, will you grab her something to eat? She’s very tired from her travels."

You were about to thank them for their kindness, but that sense of impending doom was signaling off from the back of your mind again. "Thank you, but really I just need to know there's a way to get into contact with the demon sl—"

"Oh, don't worry about it Miss. We've been waiting for you. Master Doma told us to make sure you were taken care of as soon as you arrived."

There it was.

Your instincts had been screaming at you the entire time you were in the village. You had ignored them clinging to false hope, unable to overcome your exhaustion. Now here you were, back where you started.

Like every time before.

"No," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You took a step back from the trio fight or flight mode taking over.

"Miss, hey calm down now," the man said, putting his hands up defensively. "Master Doma just wants us to take care of you, there's nothing to be afraid of. He takes care of all of us, and he wants you to come home."

The pure sincerity in his voice nearly made your gag, had you not been so frightened you would have been empathetic to them. Doma was nothing if not charming, and you understood the ease that came with believing his words, surrendering to them.

You took another step back. The door wasn't far behind you, and that's all you needed. 'Just make it to the door and run. Just run.'

Another step. Then another. The back of your heel hit the threshold, nearly in the clear. Then pain shot through your head, scrambling your brains and short-circuiting your senses. You had never passed out before, and it wasn't pleasant. Your mouth tasted like metal, spots of black decorated the view as you crumpled.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

"Sweetheart, it's time to wake up now." The voice was sugary syrup dripping into your ears, tugging your from tendrils of unconsciousness. You groaned, head still throbbing from where you'd been struck. Bleary eyes met amber as they blinked open. "Look at you my darling pet, your face is all bruised," he tutted as he inspected you.

It took a moment for you to gather your surroundings, brain still fuzzy from being knocked out. You were back at the temple, the familiar colors morphing into the structure that had become your prison. Doma had taken his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You," he pointed to the person standing next to you. "Come here."

You recognized the young man from the village. The same one who helped lure your back to this place. He stepped forward, bowing respectfully before the blonde demon.

An uncharacteristic pout was plastered to Doma's face as he eyed the man head to toe. "I thought I told you to take good care of her?"

"You did sir."

"Then explain to me why my dear pet's face has been marred? It's so unsightly ." His angelic features twisted into disgust, his voice tinged with bitterness. You weren't sure you'd ever seen such emotion from him before, didn't think he was capable of anything except that eerie smile and sing-song tone. It was unsettling, no it was more than unsettling, it was terrifying.

The man didn't get the chance to answer, the moment his mouth opened there was blood. It happened so quickly, you couldn't even make out what happened. One moment he was there, the next moment viscera all over the marbled flooring and painted wood.

"You were not worth eating," Doma mused, resting his head in his hand. He looked bored with the mess he made.

You knew what Doma was. You had seen the much cleaner aftermath of his meals before. This unbridled gore was new to you though. Your stomach twisted, face scrunching as the tears spilled over. A whimper escaped your mouth, you clamped your hands over it to silence yourself from wailing.

His attention returned to you. "Now doll, what are you crying for? Humans can be so silly. He disobeyed me by marking what didn't belong to him, nor was he worth the meager nutrients attached to his bones. There's no use in weeping for him, my sweet. Wait , perhaps those are tears of disappointment? Don't tell me you were actually expecting a different outcome when you ran off this time." He laughed, hand over his stomach as if he'd just said the world's most amusing thing.

It took him a few moments for the laughing fit to die down so he could speak again. "Or maybe you're scared because you think I might kill you too, hmm?" He tilted his head when he spoke, sitting upright in his seat now. "Have I ever harmed you before?"

Harmed. Had he ever harmed you? Perhaps not overtly or in the traditional sense. You shook your head, hand still pressed to your mouth.

He motioned for you to come to him, patting his lap.

You didn't want to, but the same fear that always guided your bouts of complacency forced your feet forward. You were careful to step around the puddle of blood and up the steps that led to his throne. You slid into his lap, as you always did, like a well-trained puppy.

"Good girl," he praised, ruffling the locks at the top of your head. In spite of yourself, the praise made your chest feel warm, though it did little to ease your anxiety. You hated it. The weird and complex feelings that came with being held captive. He smelled like dragon's blood and citrus, like the red fabric was doused in the stuff. At least it helped to mask the metallic scent from the massacre behind your.

Doma tilted your chin to meet his gaze. "Tell me, why are you so afraid this time? Be honest with me."

"It's different this time." "How so?" "You didn't come get me yourself."

"I did not, why do you think that is?" 

"You're mad at me."

"Not quite," he cooed comfortingly as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm not mad, I am simply disappointed . I've grown bored with this cat and mouse game that you like to play. I also fear that my dearest pet lacks the proper appreciation for all I've given her." His smile didn't waver despite his words, at least that was something you were used to. "You're a terrible little liar too. You've been telling yourself lies since you ran away. That everything would be okay. That you could actually survive out there without someone looking after you."

His hand moved from your cheek to your throat, holding you in place. It wasn't enough to cut off the air, but it did have your head floating from the lack of blood. His voice lowered to a threatening timber. "The truth is, my dear, you need me. You need me to feed you, clothe you, shelter you, keep you safe and happy. In return, I need you to behave. It's very simple, even someone as woefully pathetic as you can understand, yes?"

He let go, you sucked in a deep breath of air. The world spun around you as the blood rushed back to your brain.

"I asked you a question, do you understand?" 

You nodded. "Yes. Yes I understand."

"Good." Any hint of that venomous undertone gone. He hauled you over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes before making his way deeper into the temple. "I take responsibility for this too. An undisciplined pet is not a bad pet, just untempered . I've indulged your foolish attempts at independence far too long. It's what I get for being so kind." He kicked the door to your living quarters open, dropping you onto the plush futon at the center of the room.

You back hit the mattress with a dulled thud. He towered over you, eyes running down your form as if they were drinking your in, undressing your. You were familiar with the gaze from plenty of human men, even some of the servants that worked in the temple. Never had you seen a look of pure carnal desire from Doma. You didn't even know if demons desired such a thing.

This, like everything that happened in the past day, was entirely uncharted territory for you. You were scared, in a way you didn't know you could be. You regretted running this time, regretted not just cow tailing and letting things be. The devil you did know would've been a comfort compared to this.

─── ⋆⋅ () ⋅⋆ ───

Doma's eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail. The way you trembled against the padded mattress, your hair splayed out over the bedding, soft skin peaking through the now damaged silk fabric. It was perfection. You were perfection. He couldn't remember the last time a human had caught his interest — there was that one girl...what was her name? He ignored the thought, it didn't matter anymore. She wasn't interesting enough to keep around once she panicked, more trouble than she was worth. You though? A different entity entirely.

Unlike the others, you hadn't begged for mercy or screamed in terror, despite how clearly fearful you were. There was something different about you, something that piqued his curiosity beyond the usual fleeting fascination. It made something stir in his chest, an uncomfortable sensation he was entirely unfamiliar with. Something that kept drawing him to you. It was a mild annoyance at first, until your image began prickling the back of his mind at every waking moment. He presumed this was what affection was, in human terms anyway. He couldn't be sure though, he never felt much of anything at all. If he could feel, then he was sure he would be fond of you.

Kneeling, he traced his finger from your collar down to the belt that held your yukata together. "This was fine silk, very rare. Such a shame it's destroyed now, it suited you so well. Can't be helped I guess," he shrugged. "Take it off."

"Take it off?" You repeated the question back to him as if you didn't comprehend the meaning of the words. He'd had servants tend to your whenever he felt like playing dress up, but never had he disrobed you himself before.

"Oh dear, perhaps that head injury has rendered you dumb? No doll of mine should dress in tattered rags. It's unbecoming, now take it off."

You trembled at his words, not wanting to comply. You weren't ashamed of yourself, nor necessarily prudish in nature. However, the mere thought of stripping away your clothing—of exposing yourself in such a vulnerable state—felt like an unbearable invasion of your last shreds of dignity. You hugged your arms around your body, as if trying to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. "N-No." The word felt weird on your tongue. You were never defiant, not directly so. Besides your escape attempts, you had always been obedient.

"How odd," he commented, kneeling down to close some distance between them. "When has my little pet ever refused me?" He didn't expect that response. "Uh uh, this simply won't do," he tutted. "Did I not just explain to you that I cannot allow for your disobedience any longer? And yet here you are, denying me directly to my face. Bad girl. Very bad girl." Doma cupped your face as he always did, a perfect facade of concern.

Your denial made that uncomfortable sensation itch inside his chest again. This was different from before... annoyance ? That wasn't quite right. The fact that even in this moment you were making him feel anything was bothersome. "I don't like repeating myself. Take it off, or I'll remove it for you." He dug his pointed thumbnail into your cheek, dragging it along the flesh, a trail of red in its wake.

The blood looked so pretty juxtaposed against your skin. His cock kicked in his bottoms at the sight. He hadn't much of a libido even when he was human — over the years he assumed any carnal desire had disappeared along with the last shred of his humanity, if any even existed within him. Now he could see that wasn't the case, the appearance of you clearly enough to rouse that desire from deep within him.

Your eyes went wide, your cheek stinging. The warmth dripping down your face was enough for you to realize you were bleeding. You were in shock, unable to move your facial muscles, your vocal cords too tight to scream. Your hands moved on autopilot, slinking up to tug at the belt, undoing the knot. You hooked a finger where the fabric folded over itself, hesitating for a second. His thumb pressed into your cheek again, a warning. You winced, pulling the silken robe open, letting it slide down your shoulders as it went, leaving only your undergarments in view.

Doma marveled at you, the same hand that had assaulted your cheek dragged itself down your jaw and neck, smearing the hot liquid with it. "Such a beautiful thing you are. A canvas just begging to be painted." His pants were uncomfortably tight now, a reminder of the appendage between his legs. A primal hunger twisted in his stomach. This was more than just teaching his pet obedience now. He wanted to mark you, take you in every conceivable way he could. Truly make you his. It was a tantalizing thought.

He tugged at the cloth wrapped around your chest, not giving you the chance to deny him now. It fell off of you with ease, exposing your breasts to the cool night air. Experimentally he circled his thumb around the bud of your nipple, red liquid drying quickly against it. The noise you made was a mix between a whimper and a strangled whine — it sent white-hot need directly to his groin. Doma watched as your skin became taut, pebbling under the touch. He licked his lips, craving more, his mind running through all the different things he wanted to do to you.

You fought the urge to squirm, his touch sending electricity skipping through your veins. Your brain was lagging as it processed the mix of fear and arousal. He looked feral, the salacious smile splitting his face open, his eyes glowing a mix of colors. If there was ever a time he truly looked inhuman, it was now. The monster shook his head as if he were snapping himself out of a haze. "Off with the rest of it. I want to see you, all of you."

You weren't bold enough to deny him twice, you took his blood covered hand and allowed him to help you stand. Their difference in size was far more apparent standing before him. You realized now that most of your time spent with the demon was with him in his temple seat. You were small before him, in more ways than one.

You turned from him, it didn't make a difference. He'd already seen most of your nude form, nor would it prevent him from doing as he pleased in the long run. In the interim though, it gave you some imagined semblance of power over the situation you were in. One last bid at retaining your pride.

"Harlow...you're beginning to bore me now."

It was a warning, you were taking too long. You didn't dare push to find out what would happen if he had to repeat the command this time. You dropped the remains of the yukata, letting it slip down your arms and crumple to the bedding along with the fabric that had covered your chest. All that was left were your underwear. You made quick work of them too, shimmying out of them and kicking them to the side.

You resisted the urge to shield yourself with your hands, his hand was on your shoulder, spinning you around as if inspecting a piece of merchandise.

Doma stopped you when you faced him again. "Sweet little pet," he cooed. His index nail slicing from your breasts to your navel. He knelt enough to run his tongue along the wound, marveling as your abdominal muscles twitched under it. Your blood pure sugar on his tongue. He pressed a kiss just above your pelvic bone, leaving bloody lips imprinted to the skin. His own flesh burned with the need to feel you, be closer to you. "I don't kneel for many, doll," he said, squeezing your hip bone lightly. "You should be honored for the sight. Are you?"

"Yes."

His thumbs dug into you, the feeling making you cry out in pain. If not for his grip on you, and your instinct to grab his shoulder for support, you would have fallen over.

"You can do better than that. Show your master how much you're honored for this gift. How much you appreciate all I've given you, all I plan to give you." His voice softened almost playfully so, "Come on now, show me how good of a girl you can be." Doma pressed a kiss to your thigh, licking up some more of the metallic blood that dripped.

You were more than a little confused, the feeling of his tongue against your flesh made your mind go static. You had assumed that once you were naked and at his mercy, he would simply take what he wanted. It took you a few seconds to muster the brainpower to try and figure out exactly what he was wanting from you. Hesitantly you brought your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks.

It was strange. For all the monster that he was, his skin felt so very human against your touch. His own eyes lust-hazed and locked to yours. There was a sick thrill that came with being desired by someone so dangerous. Even the blood drying against your skin, now cold and sticky was a sensation that only heightened how you were feeling — your arousal pulsed with need.

When he didn’t move to stop you or draw more blood, you took it as a sign that you were doing something right. He was a god—or at least he presented himself as one—so you would offer him a performance of devotion in return. You would tend to him the way temple maidens polished statues and decorated altars.

You pressed your lips against his, your eyes fluttering shut. Doma's lips were soft and warm; if not for the sharp metallic taste of your own blood mingling with the kiss, you could almost forget who it was. It felt good. It shouldn't have felt good, but it did . The kind of good that was strangely comforting, the kind you knew you would yearn for again in your isolation.

He was intrigued by your response, having intended to coax a vocal proclamation from you, instead you'd kissed him. You tasted like mint and honey, flavors that only lingered in his long-since-past human memory. It was delicious, addicting . This was a far better outcome than he initially anticipated.

When you trailed little kisses down his jaw and neck, he had to focus his breathing to remain as stoic as possible. Every touch was the lick of raw flame searing his skin, making his cock kick in excitement. Your hands moved lower, hooking themselves beneath the hem of his red top before pausing.

"May I?" You asked, not moving to further disrobe him without permission.

Doma's eyes blazed with hunger, his lips curling into a feral grin. "Yes, my pet. You may."

You pulled up on the shirt, carefully sliding it over his head and arms before discarding it to the side of them. You smoothed your hands down his pectoral muscles and the hardened abs feeling every bump and divet as you moved. He was carved from marble, body as perfect as one would expect of a god. The sight alone made you want to taste him, not out of fear or obligation but from sheer lust on your end — a scary thought.

He watched you through lidded eyes as your mouth set to work again, lips not lingering in any one place as you blessed each plane of muscle with a kiss. You stopped only when you reached the belt that held his gray pants to his form.

Again you looked at him, silently asking this time.

He patted your head, "Good girl. Go ahead," he encouraged. You looked the prettiest like that, when your eyes were wide, soft, anxious . It made his chest bubble with that weird fuzziness again. The more that feeling manifested, the more he wanted to devour you.

It took a moment for Harlow to fumble with the buckle, but once it was conquered there was nothing but the striped fabric separating you and what was outlined under it. You folded down the waistband, slowly revealing his erection. It was intimidating up close, far larger than you had seen before. The length was pale like the rest of him, the tip an angry shade of pink decorated by pearls of precum that glistened.

You could have attempted to take him in your mouth, but such a simple and baser sexual act wasn't right for this. You couldn't take right now, only give.

Your hands came forward, wrapping around the base for support. You could feel his pulse under your palm through the vein that coiled around the underside. It pulsed in your grasp, and you could hear his breath hitch in the silence of the room. As you had done to the rest of his body, you pressed a kiss to the tip, smearing the white beads against your rosy lips. "Thank you, lord Doma. For allowing me to have the honor of witnessing all of you." You weren't entirely sure you didn't mean the words that tumbled out — not with his scent in your nose, and the primal part of your brain activated.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, becoming impatient with need, another urge he was only newly acquainted with. Apathy had brewed near immeasurable patience within him in his long life. Perhaps just another thing that made you so special — your ability to draw out all he had to offer. "Look at me."

You obeyed, pausing your actions to meet his gaze.

Doma caressed your uninjured cheek and swatted your hands away from his groin. He took hold of himself, smearing the mushroomy head of his cock over your lips and to the side. The way you winced when it pressed to the cut on your cheek made his balls tighten. Blood and fluid mixing to smear pink along your soft skin like rouge. "So pathetically fragile and pretty, a little mouse doomed to forever be under the cat's paw. I have to confess — I consider you my most prized possession."

It sounded real, his voice neutral not deep with lust nor that flamboyant false tone he used to lure most in. The way he was looking at you coupled with his words wrapped you in a blanket of contentment. Being told you were wanted tugged at the abandoned part of you more than expected. "Thank you," you whispered, your own words equal in their sincerity.

Doma was pleased with this. "Of course, so much easier when you just appreciate what you have, no?" He moved to press your back to the mattress again, using a knee to spread your legs for him. Finally, he received the view that made his mouth water, his ears ring. Your folds pink and glistening with need, thighs sticky with blood and arousal. A sight worthy of a painting.

He pressed two fingers to your swiping upwards to gather the slick. You tensed, toes curling, heartbeat picking up. He missed none of it. He allowed his tongue to swirl around his digits, taking in your flavor. He'd consumed so many humans, but this was the first time he truly relished the taste, savory, decadent, and all you .

"Have your eyes ever wandered while under my care? Were you burdened with lust unable to be quenched? Be honest, I'll be mad if you're not," he warned, leaving one hand on your hip.

"Yes," there was no hesitation in your answer, only a tepid honesty.

"Was I ever the object of that desire?" "No," you whispered it so quietly that he almost missed it even with his inhuman senses.

Sourness encompassed him, a deep cold bitterness mixed with envy. He wasn't surprised by the answer, but it dug into him like claws regardless. His hand tightened, nails digging into you and squeezing so hard he nearly felt your bone give way to his strength. The sound of your agony, the wail of your pain, and the smell of fresh salty tears brought Doma out of his daze. He let go, surprised by his own shift in mood. 

With a sigh, he leaned over encompassing you with his form. "Shhh, shhh," he tried to soothe. He mimicked your earlier actions, pressing kisses along your skin before capturing your lips with his. "I'm not mad." He assured, despite the harshness of his treatment. It wasn't an apology, he wasn't much capable of that — it was as close as you'd get from him though, an admittance that he may have gone too far.

You whimpered softly, your heart still racing from his unexpected display of anger. You pressed your body against his, welcoming and desperate for comfort. You let yourself give in to his touch, anything to dull the searing throb in your leg. Anything to not have him upset, to not see that angry look in his eyes again.

His movements were gentle now, he returned his hand between your legs. Rhythmically he circled his fingers over your clit, keeping the movements going as he spoke. "After tonight, there will be no one else that exists to you, but me. Understand?"

Your only reply was the string of pleasurable whimpers that spilled from you, eyes squeezing shut. You poured your focus into the pleasure until the pain was a dull background sensation.

"That's it, that's it," he cooed.

Your fingers squeezed into the bedding knuckles turning white from the grip. That crescendo of pressure was unforgiving as his fingers never lost their pace, building you up to a peak. Fireworks twinkled behind your closed eyes, white-hot pleasure erupting from your cunt.

He didn't allow you to recover, the blood soaked hand pressed to your throat, cinching the blood that was rushing to your head. Dark spots danced in the corners of your vision, panic made your grab at his arm. Like stone, he was unmovable.

"Uh uh, I thought we'd moved past that now. Submit, pet, you'll only be rewarded for your obedience." He kept you on the precipice of consciousness, never letting your sink underneath the waves, but not allowing you to grab a lifeline either. There was a sense of deprivation, leaving only the ability to feel what you were given — no other thoughts, no way to cry out. Just Doma.

Eager to finally satisfy himself, he slotted his length against your slit and rocked his hips. The head of him bumped into your now overly sensitive bud as he gathered your juices over himself. The contact wasn't the tightness he would soon have, but it satisfied some of the tension that he needed released.

You needed to tell him it was too much, you were overstimulated and felt like you were going to fall off a cliff. Your whole body twitched and writhed beneath his grip. Too much, all of it too much. He released your neck as he slid into your — the air expanding your lungs and the delightful burning stretch as he filled your in one even thrust sent your brain into reset.

A fresh wave of tears stuck to your cheeks, washing away some of the blood and fluid. You looked a complete mess, worn and wrecked. "S'too much," you finally said.

He groaned, the feeling of your velvety walls massaging the whole of him, the vice-like squeeze of you was tantalizing. It was a pleasure that matched nothing he remembered. "No, no, it's far from too much, pet. I would never give you more than you can take," he responded, voice breathy. He leaned over your and nosed at your neck. He adjusted your hips upwards, an easier angle for him to rock himself into you.

"You can handle it. You were made for this... made for me ," he cooed, he gripped your lithe hand in his own.

You squeezed the supportive hand offered to you, legs kicking out as your body bounced with each rut of himself into you. You let yourself trust his assurance, having no other choice and no other way to settle the spiraling world around you.

His thickness rubbed against the most sensitive inner parts, tip knocking against your womb. You felt so full and warm. He leaned back just enough that he could press the palm of his free hand to your belly, feeling himself inside of you. "Feel that? How deep I am, like we're becoming one." He licked his lip, rutting faster.

The feeling of fullness was contenting, allowing the second wave of your orgasm to wash over with less eruption this time. Your back arched and the hand on your belly returned to your hip to hold your steady. The rhythmic pistoning lost its even pace the moment you clenched around him. Doma closed his own eyes, feeling his balls tighten as they bounced off of you with his movements. His cock twitched, and he held you still, burying himself as deep as he could go while he came. Ropes of warm seed painted your insides, as he rolled himself against your in shallow movements — just enough to ride out the ensuing pleasure and aftershocks that accompanied.

Your limbs felt weightless, your mind floating. It was a sense of zen, like the world around you had dissipated leaving nothing but pure blissful sleepiness. You registered his voice knocking at the back of your consciousness, but it was muffled.

"So exhausted, and we only played together once," he patronized as he ran his hand over your head, petting you like a puppy.

When had he pulled out of you, or readjusted them so he was laying at your side? You didn't know. The thought of displeasing him suddenly tugged at you, and you whined in your leery state, not able to formulate much. "Sorry..."

He smiled at that immediate submission, "It's ok, we'll just have to work on it. I know you can do better next time, right?"

"Mhmmm," you mumbled instinctively curled into him. When you were of a more sober mindset, you hoped your carefully calculated revulsion would reappear. For now, you just wanted to fall back into your typical pattern of compliance.

"Sweetheart?"

You didn't want to reply, too tired. His hand tilted your chin to him one more time. "Mmm?"

"Who do you belong to?"

You knew saying the words would manifest them somewhere inside you, but again you found no protest within yourself, the call of unconsciousness too much. "You."

"Who do you need to take care of you?" "You." "Who else exists to you?" "No one."

"Good girl."

[sukunasdumbestchef]

way how i see you.

True form!Sukuna x Blind!Fem!reader

꒰You are the one and only wife of the King of Curses, but you don't just have this peculiarity… you are also blind. And painting is your way of painting and trying to represent what you see, even if it's just a little.꒱

Fluff, but cheesy.

BAD ENGLISJ SORRY😭

It was actually a secret… blindness. No one suspected…not even the King, Sukuna Ryomen. You hid it so well.

For obvious reasons, your life changed drastically after your vision got worse, the world around you lost its colors and beauty every day. Your world became just silhouettes moving around, almost colorless and blurred. But, you were aware of some things, just by looking at the silhouettes, you know how to differentiate an animal from a human, or if someone uses hair accessories. You weren't completely blind, but you were blind enough to be considered blind and have difficulties.

Uraume was the first to suspect, they were going to your room to hand over your newly cleaned kimonos. Uraume pushed the door open with an elbow. It was at the same time that you were combing your hair, your room lacked a little light, the candles had run out at the moment. You placed the comb where you thought the table was, but the comb ended up falling. You crouched down, trying to look for the lost comb on the floor, as the comb was clearly next to you. But they did not talked, nor did they mention this to the king.

Sukuna became suspicious when you two were at the table. In an attempt to get the chopsticks, you put your hand in a completely far place. It wasn't your fault, the chopsticks were the same color as the table! You tried again, nervous and hoping your husband wasn't looking at you. You went wrong again, you swallowed hard. You only realized where the chopsticks were when you turned your head drastically.

"…" Sukuna obviously noticed this. So the dots connected in his cruel head: Didn't she see where they were? Maybe… it makes sense, this woman is "strict" with how Uraume serves her food, she asks that the rice be placed in a light-colored bowl, if possible, in a light yellow bowl… and things like that...

"Wife. Are you blind?" Sukuna asked, without further ado. You felt your heart lock… could it be now? The truth?

"Sukuna…I, yes I am blind, please my king forgive me for keeping it a secret!" You soon explained yourself, standing up and crouching in respect. You thought he was angry, but he was surprised. He realized that you were not a silly woman, you are a very smart woman, no one suspected that you were blind… not even the king!

And that's how your life changed, Sukuna didn't even ask and you already explained your condition. You explained that you weren't completely blind, but you made her life difficult. Sukuna, like a husband who doesn't say 'I love you' but would burn the world for you, did everything he could to help you, Uraume helped you more.

You were an artist too, you painted several pictures. First, Sukuna thought they were cute and that was it. However, upon discovering your lack of vision, he began to see your paintings differently… it was you representing the world… through your eyes, how you imagine the colors, from the memory of when you could still see the colors…

Sukuna was stuck, looking at his painting where you had made him. He remembers saying in the past how different their brands were, but now he understands. "I'm more surprised, woman, you actually almost managed to draw my marks… Did you do what you imagined they would look like?" Sukuna asked, you next to him nodded.

"I could see the spots on your wrist, they stand out against your skin. The ones on your face are harder to see…" you explained. Sukuna took you in his arms, you were confused because you didn't expect this all of a sudden. "Sukuna?"

"Um, give me your finger." He took her index finger. Her heart warmed as she felt him trace his marks with his finger. You got closer to his face, getting a better look.

"Wait… you have a mini eye underneath? I thought you only had 3 eyes…" Sukuna smiles.

"It's small." Sukuna replied, getting her down from his arm.

"Oh, Kuna! I need to paint you again!" She said, looking at him with a cute smile. Sukuna saw her pull out a painting, and sit at her desk. Sukuna sat right next to her, very close to her. "Kuna… this tone looks strange, does this pink look like your hair?"

"Yes? I don't understand anything about this color thing… I don't care." You sighed, but started painting. You approached him very closely, to see his features up close. He gives you a peck, "You're so close." He complained, you laughed.

He pulled you onto his lap, so it was easier for you to see him. He felt her soft hand contouring his sharp features. Analyzing, Sukuna held her closer. It was such a rare moment, so warm…

But Sukuna closed his eyes in pain when she accidentally stuck her finger in his eyes. "Stupid, woman. Do you want to make me like you, you bastard?"

"I didn't think it was funny Sukuna, it was by accident…"

"Whatever, get it over with. My ass is going to hurt if I sit here for so long."

"HUSH!"

I have a version of this same theme with a longer story and angsty in the middle… do you want me to post it?

long story version

[janitorhutcherson]

Sacred Self Care (Mike Schmidt)

i'm 100% supposed to be cleaning my room up for family but i may go insane if i do not write RIGHT NOW!! so, this is something i've had in my mind for so long. i PROMISE after thanksgiving i'll give yall peeta and finnick content and get to more asks. i could not hold back on this one any longer though, so sit back, and enjoy!

summary: mike discovers self care, but what happens when his ritual becomes a little too intricate and he ends up in a silly predicament?

warnings: mentions of nudity, one or two innuendos

word count: 2,288

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

Mike Schmidt did not have time to take care of himself. This was a fact that was all too noticeable. His dry curls practically begged to be lathered in moisture, or at least in something that wasn’t a bar of soap that was also used on his face and body. His nails were dirty whenever he was busiest, the only time they were well groomed being when he was prepared to be knuckles deep inside of you. His eyebags were sunken in and his facial hair grew in patches, untrimmed. Mike did not care, nor did he think wasting time on such a meticulous thing would be beneficial to him. There were better things to do than to primp himself when he could be doing something more productive, such as getting to the bottom of his brother’s disappearance… thirteen years later. When he wasn’t obsessing over every minute detail in his dream that could lead him to the solution or fathering Abby in his own backwards but still productive way, he was admiring you and your glory.

While Mike may not have been someone for self-care, you most definitely were. You were constantly looking up new ways to better yourself, new hair masks to try and new ways to make your skin as smooth as butter. The water bill also certainly showed your love for self-care. Some nights, you’d prance into the bedroom after an intricate shower, throwing your leg up on the bed as you demanded for Mike’s rough hands to feel, every centimeter of hair gone, the smell of cocoa butter sifting in the air. He was amused when he’d walk in to you sitting on the couch, some new green goop slathered on your face, or some strange piece of paper stuck to your nose. On occasion, you’d convince Mike to join you and Abby, his desperation to spend more quality time with the two of you trumping his disdain for fifteen minutes of clay on his face. He’d peel away at chunks as they flaked into his lap, you and Abby giggling every few seconds as the pile would grow amusingly larger before Mike would give up, running to the bathroom to scrub his face clean before the timer went off.

He wasn’t sure when it clicked. Perhaps it was when Abby told him he’d looked rough lately (he attempted to take this with a grain of salt, as she was his little sister, scolding her and telling her that was not very nice) or perhaps it was when one morning after work, he’d noticed new wrinkles covering his forehead and increasingly pale skin with purple dips underneath his eyes. One day, he found himself in the shampoo aisle at Target. It started with something simple. He bought real shampoo and conditioner, specifically designed for curly dry hair. He enjoyed the scent it radiated as he lathered it through his locks in the warm shower, the aftermath amazing. He’d never seen his hair so fluffy as it dried, his once brittle strands now feeling smooth as he ran his fingertips through it. Then, there was skincare. Somehow, he ended up getting a free sample in the mail from one of those makeup subscription companies you subscribed to, the company accidentally sending you a made-for-men miniature face wash and eye cream set. You eagerly tossed it his way with a giggle, assuming he tossed it in the trash the moment he got it. Instead, that very night, Mike added it to his shower along with his brand-new hair products, patting the eye cream underneath his eyes once he got out. The next morning, the once deep reddish purple was now only tinted a light color. Before he knew it, underneath the cabinet tucked away in a corner were different hair oils, beard creams, moisturizers, and lotions. He’d gotten into different kinds of cologne, opting for scented deodorants as well.

Mike had to admit, he enjoyed this new routine of his. As it progressed, it became almost ritualistic. He’d get home from work at exactly 6:15, about 45 minutes before you’d wake up. He would hop into the shower, taking in the feeling of his fingertips massaging his scalp, his body feeling the tension flooding down as the water from the shower flooded down the drain. Then, the aromatic smell of musky body wash would fill his nose, cleansing his senses of the smell of ancient dusts from working at the pizzeria. He’d step out of the shower, his skin tinted pink from the hot water, his face freshly washed. He’d apply lotion, shape his beard and add his creams, he’d even gotten into grooming his nails every night, ensuring they were crisply clean and applying a protective clear coat on top.

He couldn’t quite figure out why he was so embarrassed by his ritual. Perhaps it was the way it made him feel less masculine, knowing damn well deep down that it didn’t make him any less of a man and it was just his years’ worth of built-up toxic masculinity that you were so desperately trying to get him to break down. Maybe it was the way he was splurging on things he simply didn’t feel he needed until now, until it suddenly felt like a necessity, something he’d go insane without. Most of all and the most likely of all the scenarios, it was admitting that he was wrong, that something you and Abby had so desperately attempted to beg him to get into was exactly what the two of you had explained to him. It was majestic and comforting. At least 45 minutes a day were dedicated to him and only himself, his whole body feeling renewed each time he stepped out of the shower. He felt rebirthed, imagining this was what religious people felt when they were deemed ‘saved’ at confessional. Even with that being said, he couldn’t let you and Abby in on his little ritual. No, he couldn’t possibly admit to it. It wasn’t because he wanted to hide something from you two but instead because his embarrassment seeped deep down into his skull every time he thought about revealing it. Instead, he would slowly creep himself into bed, wrapping his arms around you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, pretending to sleepily open his eyes as your alarm went off.

You’d suspected he was hiding something, and you were worried. The new signature scents, the freshly groomed look, the way he seemed to care more about his clothing and the wrinkles that were shown. Your first thought was that there was somebody else, someone he had needed to impress, much like he once felt the need to impress you every time he was around you, suppressing his comfortable and more Mike-like fashion choices. In the mornings, you’d sense the lack of his presence after hearing the door creak open, feeling the bed dip right before your alarm went off, sirens ringing in your head each time as if to warn you something wasn’t right. You would spend some nights he was away at work after Abby was in bed evaluating who it could possibly be. There was Vanessa, the blonde police officer who would make occasional appearances in conversation. There was the waitress at the diner who’d taken a liking to Mike, but you weren’t sure who else it could be. Of course, women ogled over Mike all the time in public. There was something about a man with a slightly off putting aura and messy tussled hair. But regardless, you had always trusted him, and besides, Mike didn’t really talk to many people as is.

It wasn’t until Mike added in a peel off face mask into the mix that the jig was up. One week, he’d managed to get the entire week off, ensuring the pizzeria was boarded closed and begging Vanessa to keep an eye on things. You’d felt slightly better having him around more and at normal hours. He was very much still head over heels for you, following you around like a lost puppy, the two of you showering together, cooking together, and of course, having as much ‘alone time’ as you could possibly fit in when Abby was asleep or away at a friends. Even with that, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You were passed out on the couch after a movie night and it was late. Mike had crept away from the living room, tucking your sleeping body under a blanket, slipping into the shower. He followed his typical ritual, something he’d had to put off for a while in fear of getting caught, still unsure of what made him so anxious. After his shower, he applied his peel off mask, attempting to avoid his facial hair, but without thinking, he’d applied a layer over his entire chin. What would soon become a panic inducing issue in a short sum of ten minutes hadn’t occurred to him quite yet.

As the timer on his phone went off, he began slowly peeling the mask off, starting at his forehead before he froze, realizing more of his face was covered than usual. He brushed it off, continuing to peel before he noticed that not only was the thin, purple layer coming off, but multiple specks of hair were attached as well. Oh fuck, he thought to himself, unsure of how to proceed. No, he couldn’t just rip it off. He was attached to his facial hair. It made his baby face look mature and manly. No, of course it didn’t occur to him to just add water, simply wiping it away. There was only one option, and that was to waltz into the living room with his bright purple face and to wake you up, puppy dog eyes pleading for you to help him with his predicament.

You stirred away as you felt a hand shake your shoulder, your eyes widening as you sat up with a confused expression.

“Well, hello there,” you croaked out, your voice laced with gravel from exhaustion. He looked at you with embarrassment laced over his face, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Help, please. I…” he trailed off, gesturing his hands towards his face. “I just need it off,” he grumbled lowly, his fingertips holding the piece holding his facial hair tenderly, ensuring he didn’t rip anything else off.

You couldn’t help but let out a loud giggle, amused by the man standing in front of you. You grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom. You both sat on the ledge of the tub as you tenderly wiped his face clean with a warm washcloth, his reddened cheeks from both the mask being on too long and the embarrassment becoming more apparent by the second.

“Facial hair is saved,” you said triumphantly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I do have to ask though, why the sudden liking to all of this? And why not just.. tell me?” you hummed curiously, shaking your head.

“I just.. I don’t know. I think I didn’t want to admit I was wrong or that I was spending so much money on such worthless stuff. It started out so small and then became so big, I just couldn’t,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I am really sorry for keeping it from you,” he hummed before he went into a further explanation, explaining the way it made him feel.

You let out a sigh of relief along with a content giggle, shaking your head. “I knew something was up, but I wasn’t sure what,” you said, cocking an eyebrow as you placed a hand on his knee, your cheeks now warming up.

“What, did you think I was getting all fancy schmancy for another girl?” he teased, bumping his elbow against your shoulder. Your eyes widened as your mouth opened and closed as you went to say something, his expression dropping into something more serious.

“Oh my god, Y/N, honey, no, I’d never,” he said, placing his warm hand on your exposed shoulder. “Baby, no,” he chuckled, happy he could reassure you but somewhat upset that you had to sit through that alone. “No, I love you very much, I promise you, there is no other woman... just, your silly grumpy man being too embarrassed to admit I like girly things,” he teased, leaning in to press a warm kiss to your lips. The kiss was all you needed for electrical sparks to be sent through your body, your brain buzzing as the anxious thoughts began to disappear.

For the rest of the night, Mike walked you through his entire routine, both for fun and for transparency. You two joked back and forth, you occasionally poking at him, telling him he should become an influencer. Afterwards, you both did a face mask together, this time ensuring the product did not cover his chin.

Yes, you and Mike most definitely had your own things to work on, but at the end of the day, you were happiest with him. Your heart felt warm. He had finally found a way to take care of himself, a way to feel more content in his own skin, and even though he had an odd way of going about it, you were pleased, happy he was also finally willing to share this with you. From now on, Mike would wait for his routine in the mornings until you woke up, instead crawling into bed and cradling you in his arms, thinking about how lucky he was to have such a sweet, loving, and accepting partner like you to share his life with, even if it was just skincare and Vaseline kisses.

[ludicdoll]

hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑

farleigh start ☆

pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader

contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic

synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.

a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭

there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.

your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.

you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.

you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.

he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.

“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.

“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.

“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.

you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.

“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.

“hmm?”

“no one’s talking to me anymore.”

“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”

“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”

you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.

you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.

“please?”

you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.

you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.

you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.

“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.

© please do not publish my work on other sites.

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 14

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

at last (i see the light) by @theroyalsavage

Of a tower, a missing prince with the sun in his hair and the ability to heal with a touch, and a terrible-dangerous-very-bad bandit who’s never been all that good at being very bad, dangerous, or terrible. An AU based off of Disney’s Tangled.

IVE BEEN W A I T I N G FOR A SOLANGELO TANGLED AU OMG. and this ATE. was so fucking good. obviously bc its theroyalsavage but still omg. sorry for harrassing u btw. but i LOVE this. nico as flynn pov and just fucking reluctantly smitten from the beginning.....oh i know that's right

2. a letter to the moon (it is not brighter than you) by @theroyalsavage

When his kingdom is plagued by a series of unsolvable murders, Prince Will Solace must confront several things: tragedy, helplessness, and the dizzy-sweet inevitability of falling in love.

is this, like the author's note indicates, reminiscent of bbc merlin? yes. and so i LOVE. rivals to friends to lovers my BELOVED. royalty aus my BELOVED. and honestly yall should be supporting my royalsavage agenda purely by her titles like LOOK at these. my heart hurts like

3. In the darkest grays by @izlaria

[The sun bursts, clouds break.] Nico di Angelo loves in color. This is something that Will Solace has always known.

hi. i am obsessed w this fic. a nico character atudy that is disguised as will character study that IS a will character study........something something they are braided strings of fate something something....also! sally jackson my love!! she is everything to me and of COURSE she would show up here!! i am also obsessed w longtime pining will like is it even a solangelo fic if will has not been in the trenches since he was ten years old

4. eudaimonia by @forochel

Nico watched Percy wave his arms excitedly at Annabeth and breathed through the habitual twisting of his stomach. For a moment, he thought of walking over to them - ever the masochist, he thought wryly to himself - but then Annabeth threw her head back in a laugh, and Nico dismissed the thought. There would be another time and another place. ** Diverges SLIGHTLY from canon in that Nico does not confess to Percy right off the bat - he gets the chance to heal, find himself and a place to stand in camp, and form friendships. Also, attempts to fix the whole Solangelo shoehorning thing.

AUTHOR IF YOU ARE STILL ACTIVE. FOROCHEL IF YOU SEE THIS. I AM BEGGING. KNEES ON THE GROUND HANDS CLASPED ROSARY CHOKING LIKE A NOOSE. PLEASE. PLEASE UPDATE THIS SERIES IM BEGGING. I KNOW IT IS UNGRATEFUL BUT 20K IS NOT ENOUGH. THIS IS N I C O S VOICE. LIKE ACTUALLY. dude it KILLS me this is HIM 😭😭😭 i cannot get over how wonderful this is and how FRESH....like this came out right after boo! it was fresh in ur mind!! and you went CRAZY like this is SO SO GOOD!! this fic is CONSTANTLY rotating in my mind and i am constantly thinking about the path it carved.....hve never gotten over it ever

5. Baby Satyrs and Charming Boyfriends by @biancadiangeno / @fiestiest

Nico di Angelo had absolutely no idea how babysitting works, and Will Solace was having way too much fun teasing him to actually help out.

this fic is so silly and fun. i love it!! and the ending made me giggle will needed that humbling

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[anton-luvr]

can you write best friend!wonbin asking fem!reader on a date after holding his feelings for some times? thanks and congrats for 400! 🎉

# IN LOVE.

⚝ bestfriend!wonbin x fem!reader | fluff | friends 2 lovers au ⚝ note ; phew i havent posted a fic in a while,, sorry if it isn't good :( also thank u for waiting anon!! hope u like this!!! and thank u hehe

An envelope certainly wasn't the gift you were expecting from your best friend.

Nevertheless, you tried to hide your disappointment with a forced smile.

"What is it? A letter?"

Wonbin tuts at this, his long hair falling over his pretty eyes when he shakes his head.

"Just open it," he says softly, smiling. "Trust me."

You listen to the boy, tearing at the end to reveal a colorful piece of card paper.

'To the place where we first met, music loud while we drank out of cups that were red.' it read, and you can't help but laugh at his attempt at poetry.

"That's a very creative way to describe Shotaro's parties." you tease, chuckling as he scoffs and leads you to his car.

"Hey, it took me a really long time to think of that," he protested, opening the passenger door for you. "And congrats! You got the first clue correct."

You realize what this was all about as he starts to drive towards Shotaro's house, gasping in surprise.

"Is this a scavenger hunt?" you asked excitedly, waving the colorful card.

Wonbin nods, grinning at your reaction.

Anticipation and curiosity for what he had in store for you builds up in your chest as he pulls up to Shotaro's driveway, and you hop off the car to look for the next clue immediately - which was pretty easy, because Wonbin was terrible at hiding things.

"Found it!" you sang out cheerily, picking up the second brown envelope out of the bushes.

"To the place where Zuckerberg works, laughing over our food and our burps." it read, and your eyes light up at the mention of the CEO.

"The restaurant down the street!" you guessed enthusiastically.

It was one of your favorite places to eat at with Wonbin, the waiter there who looked exactly like Mark Zuckerberg always making the both of you giggle.

It took less than ten minutes to get to the restaurant, and you could see the third brown envelope before Wonbin even put the car into park.

After taking it down from the advertising posters, you tore it open.

"To the place where no one else could bother us, with stars and cold autumn gusts."

You smile at this, already knowing the place.

It was the park, a comforting refuge for the both of you to talk about anything and everything.

From teary, midnight conversations about personal struggles and worries to delirious conversations about stupid jokes and silly memes after classes, it was always your go-to place to take a breather from the hectic mess of life.

So the park was exactly where you went next, and unbeknownst to you, Wonbin was sweating bullets.

With each step you took closer to the park, the faster his heart raced.

He had been planning this for weeks, practicing and rewriting poetry for his clue cards and making sure everything was something you liked - including the surprise later on.

"Where's the next envelope?" you ask, snapping him out of his nervous trance.

Wonbin coughs, putting on a calm demeanour.

"I don't know," he lies, shrugging with a mischievous smile. "Maybe it's by the lake, maybe it's by the bridge, or maybe it's by the playground. It's up to you to find out."

You jokingly huff at this, tugging him after you by the arm as you ran towards the bridge.

It was where the both of you always stood by while talking, gazing at the stars at night and watching the reflection of the moon over the shimmering lake.

"You know, this game is too easy." you boasted as you made your way over. "I could guess these places almost immediately."

But your boast doesn't last long when you notice a trail of flower petals on the ground, voice dying down as you followed each one up to the bridge.

The wood creaked underneath your feet as you reached the centre of the bridge, just to find...

Nothing.

There was no envelope, no gift, no box - nothing.

"'Bin, where's the next envelope?" you asked, turning around in confusion.

And when you do just so, everything fades away into silence.

"Happy birthday!" he beams, suddenly holding a huge bouquet of your favorite flowers from god-knows-where.

Your jaw falls open and closes shut just to fall open again, at a complete loss of words.

But you didn't have to worry much longer about what to say next, because Wonbin beats you to it.

"I've been wanting to ask you this for a really long time, so here goes nothing." he stutters, face reddening as he took a quick deep breath.

"Y/N, I'm in love with you." he admits slowly and bashfully, his shining eyes gazing right into yours.

"I'm in love with the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you talk. The way you're always so loving to the people around you, the way you always see the good in life. I'm in love with you when we're drunk at three in the morning and you're throwing up in my bathroom, and I'm in love with you when we're driving down the highway with the windows down and music at full blast. I'm in love with you now, and I always will be."

Your heart hammers in your chest as he gets closer to you, so close that his golden star necklace was dangling right in front of your face.

"Will you give me a chance and go out with me?"

His words echo through your blank mind, but you already knew your answer.

There was no one else in the world who understood you the way Wonbin did, and you had always waited for a day like this - a day where the both of you could start calling each other mine.

"Yes," you giggled, gently taking the flowers out of his hands. "I'll definitely go out with you."

Wonbin lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, relief and joy washing over him.

"Thank you." he says softly, slipping his hands into yours and squeezing them.

"No, thank you." you repeat, smiling as you wrap your arms around him. "This is the best thing I could ever ask for."

He's used to hugging you, but this one felt different.

He could feel the love radiating off of your body, your hearts racing against each other's.

"You're the best thing I could ever ask for." he whispers.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart @lycheecheeseyogurt (drop an ask to be tagged! + tags in bold couldn't be tagged)

[cinnbar-bun]

The Heartless Giant Pt. 4

Pairing: Crocodile x GN! Royal! Reader

Rating: SFW-ish (some suggestive comments wink wink)

Word Count: ~2.5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 AO3

Taglist: @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @leafyturtle @pookiesnatcher @lolom

You can’t help but be attracted to his eyes. Those dark eyes that promise nothing but pain, that hold nothing but emptiness inside. His words repeat in your mind over and over. 

“But don’t keep me waiting too long, dear.” 

His insistence that you did not need an excuse to visit him and that companionship was desirable replayed. You wonder briefly what it would be like if those eyes of his could have some light. If those eyes could ever reflect anything besides apathy, coldness, or arrogance. 

How wonderful it would be to be the reason his eyes have light again… 

To be the one to bring it back to him…

It’s shameful, wishful thinking, but in your rather boring life, he colors your mind with fascinating thoughts. Some of them are morbidly curious, but they are far more interesting and stimulating than anything from before. With only a few visits, he had imprinted himself in your mind and made you start to dream of things you never dared to before. 

One could start to get the impression you were becoming fond of Crocodile. 

Oh, Crocodile… what a strange name. But the more you say it, associate the word with him, the more it fits him. 

Big, imposing, quiet, yet so, so ferocious- his name fits him far too well. 

Violent tendencies contained within a barely held monster of a man. It’s far too dangerous but also brings a certain amount of imagination you cannot deny yourself. 

You wonder how he fought your father. What he was like in Alabasta. What he looked like when he was younger. Who gave him those scars? Who cut his hand off and made him need the hook? Just what havoc could he have wrecked upon your brothers if he was not occupied caring for you and giving them the opportunity to escape? 

These thoughts plague you, morning and night. You almost want to go ask your father directly about Crocodile, but you know the dangers of that. You know you could be inviting something awful by bringing up that man’s existence in front of your father. He’s already been suspicious of your behavior the last few days, you didn’t need to hand him the reason on a silver platter. 

That thought reminded you of just how silly you were acting over Crocodile. If you couldn’t even discuss this with your own father for fear of his reaction, you shouldn’t even be down there in the first place. 

So you waited. A few days pass, forcing you to occupy your time and acknowledge the pros and cons of seeing Crocodile again. The cons were clear and obvious, but the doubts, the ‘what-ifs’, the copious amounts of hope you were attempting to have in order to possibly justify another minute of him, always overshadowed the rational parts of you. You were already in too deep to back out now. Not when you couldn’t shove away all the questions you had wanted to ask him about. 

It was now the sixth night since you last saw Crocodile. If you went down now, would he possibly chastise you for not visiting in a while? Would he assume the worst? Or would he be grateful? 

Well, he’s a lonely prisoner, you think, it’s not like he has any other people to talk to. He would probably appreciate your presence, if anything. Although the moon is at its highest point in the sky, you can’t possibly sleep, not with these thoughts. This time, you go to your closet and quickly grab a wrap to cover your shoulders over your nightclothes. 

You do the same thing as before, taking a peek out the door before dashing to the bottom cellar. Thankfully, the freezing air is not as sharp thanks to the thicker wrap around you. You take more careful steps down the stairs towards him, before you hear a low chuckle. 

“Well, well, well… long time no see, your highness,” Crocodile’s voice reaches your ears. 

“How did you know?” You ask, seeing as he’s sitting with your back towards you and the fact that you did your best to be quiet. Crocodile motions to his ears, still refusing to turn around. 

“I can recognize your footsteps,” he answers. “You have?” 

“I don’t hear much else. Your footsteps at least mean I will see something nice for a change,” he laughs, again with that same humorless laugh. 

You nod and take a seat on the stone floor in front of the bars. An offering to him. 

He freezes then glances at you over his shoulder. 

“You’re getting comfortable,” he comments rhetorically. “So, why did you come today?” 

He still hasn’t turned around. “I felt bad.” 

“Heh. You felt bad? You felt bad for a criminal? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “I can always just leave you alone,” you retort. “I thought you were the one talking about ‘companionship’ and what not last time.” 

“Oh please, you didn’t come down here just because you felt pity for me.” 

“I didn’t say pity-” 

“My point still stands,” he interrupts. This time, he turns around, and you notice his eyes look more exhausted while his smirk is more cold. “You weren’t really feeling bad. You desire my presence much more than you want to admit, huh?” 

His bluntness makes you red while you grimace and grip your wrap tighter. “I absolutely did not ever say or imply that.” 

“You don’t need to. You keep trying to act tough around me, dear but I’m not the kind of man you can just lie to so easily.” He leans in closer to you and tilts your chin up with his hand through the bars. “You missed me, didn’t you?” “I did not,” you huff. You internally scream at the fact he’s making you act like a petulant child. 

“Sure, sure, your highness. Just couldn’t admit the fact that you were starting to want me.” 

“Well, continue to be that way. I’m going,” you say as you begin to stand up. His right hand reaches out to grab your wrist while he shakes his head. 

“Oh no, your highness,” he tuts. “I’m not letting you go so easily now that you’re here. Come on, take a seat.” 

“With how you’re talking, I don’t think I want to sit with you,” you argue. A low rumble from his chest again makes your face heat up. 

“Don’t be so cruel… I began to miss your presence here. I don’t want to go back to that loneliness, you know?” “So you admit that you wanted companionship?” “Well, now you’re putting me in an awkward position, your highness,” he smirks. “Making me have to admit my feelings so suddenly.” 

You wait to hear what he has to say while Crocodile rubs his thumb around your hand in circles. “Well? What are your feelings?” “So demanding,” Crocodile flicks his eyes towards yours briefly. “Well, since you’re so desperate to know-” 

“I’m not desperate,” you glare. He looks deep into your eyes and chuckles. 

“My bad. But I have to admit that I’ve been missing your company. You forced your way down here and then didn’t even come see after almost a week? I thought for a moment you would have forgotten me already.” You’re taken aback by his confession and stare while he strokes your hand. 

“Prisoner got your tongue?” Crocodile flashes his hook at you while you avert your eyes. 

“No, I… I was just taken aback for a moment. I didn’t expect you to be that forward now.” “You simply forced my hand. Don’t question my feelings again if you aren’t ready to hear what I really mean. Otherwise I’ll keep having to make you squirm.” 

“You’re too much,” you groan as you take a seat on the floor again. “I don’t understand how you can say something like that with a straight face.” “Try being more honest, your highness. It might get you where you want instead of putting you on the defensive.” 

“That’s rich coming from you,” you say. “You can’t tell me to be more honest when you were busy hiding your secrets until I ‘enticed’ you enough.” 

“What can I say? I’m a hypocrite, your highness. That’s not my problem to solve.” 

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but laugh. “Maybe you should take your own advice. Be more honest and open.” “I don’t think you could handle my honesty.” “I doubt that. You should just tell me.” “No, no, no, that’s not how this works. You can’t have only me admitting and spilling my life to you. You have to give something in return,” he points his index at you. 

“Fine. What would you like to know?” “Any relationship experiences?” Crocodile bluntly asks. 

“Wha- seriously? That’s your first question?” You reply, unimpressed. 

“What? I’m just curious, is all. It’s a normal thing to ask someone attractive, isn’t it?” Crocodile raises a brow at you with a smirk. 

“You-!” You cover your face with your hands. “You go first.” “Fine. Hm… relationships… can’t say I have.” “You really haven’t?” You ask in disbelief. “I mean, you seem like the type to have experience.” “Don’t mistake my words. I’ve had plenty of flings, if that’s what you’re curious about. But actually courting another? No, I have not.” “Why not?” “Why would I?” Crocodile runs a hand through his hair. “None have impressed me before. Especially not when I was so busy attempting to take over.” 

“One-track minded, huh…” 

“Hmph. You could say that. I prefer to label myself as ‘committed’ to my goals.” 

“And what are those goals?” 

“You haven’t given me your answer,” Crocodile reminds you. 

You roll your eyes at his attempt to redirect your question. “None.” 

“None, you say? Interesting,” he nods with a smile. “Not even a bed-warmer?” “You’re so crass. No. Nobody.” “Now that’s impressive. How did no one come along and attempt to woo you?” He chuckles, reaching out to hold your face in his hand. 

“Well… a few have…” you admit, avoiding the deep examination Crocodile is giving you. 

“And why have they not turned into an opportunity?” Crocodile questions. 

“I wasn’t interested. The suitors who tried were vapid and dull. I’d much rather have continued reading and studying than bother trying to keep a conversation with them.” 

“So, you’re just as ‘one-tracked minded’ as I am, hm?” Crocodile teases. 

“I think I prefer ‘hardworking’ instead of that,” you correct with a smile. 

“And what do you tend to study and read about?” “Any and everything. Whatever catches my eye at the moment, I like to read about.” 

“A good trait to have. Continue chasing more knowledge,” Crocodile replies. 

Your eyes widen. “You mean that?” “I told you before, you may be physically weak, but your brain can mean the difference between life and death. Power means nothing if you cannot effectively think for yourself,” his voice lowers, suddenly returning to their normal tone. 

“That’s definitely true. I know I’m behind my brothers and my own father when it comes to strength, but I’ve valued my mind. I may not be able to fight head on, but I can do plenty of others things,” you confess. 

“I know. They don’t appreciate and understand that, do they?” “No, not really,” you shake your head. Your brothers have teased you plenty about your tendencies to bury your face in a book. Even some of your suitors have been mortified that you knew things they didn’t- feeling threatened by that knowledge. Crocodile was the first man besides your father to encourage and be impressed by it. It made your chest feel lighter. 

“What a shame. But that’s their way of bringing you down to their level. To make you feel lesser than and to settle for less,” Crocodile looks sternly at you. “Don’t you dare let them do such a thing to you. You’re a smart person, and your worth is infinitely larger than whatever they think it is.” 

“Thank you,” you quietly reply, touched he would say such a thing to you. “Truly. I haven’t gotten support like that before.” “Heh. Don’t go thinking this makes me a saint or anything. I’m just saying the truth, so don’t accept what pathetic dogs try to tell you.” 

“I guess I shouldn’t,” you agree, a smile creeping on your face. “I know what I’m capable of.” 

“Good. And maybe you can find a more suitable partner for you then,” Crocodile chuckles. 

You look at him briefly, your mind starting to wander as you think about what he could possibly be like as a- 

You shake your head and try to remove the thoughts. It’s a crazy one that doesn’t make sense. 

His eyes opens slowly as he hums at your expression. “You look lost in thought again. What’s on your mind?” “Oh, nothing,” you lie. You don’t look at him out of fear of making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“You’re a terrible liar, your highness. How do you expect to be diplomatic if you’re going to expose every emotion on your face?” “I don’t do that. I’m just not wanting to share that.” “Now why is that, hm?” He tilts you face to him and leans in, smirking. “You’re not thinking of me are you?” “I would never!” You shout, your face exploding with heat. “I was just thinking of… of…” “Still showing it on your face,” he pulls you closer and whispers into your ears. “If you’re that desperate to see what a man of my caliber can do, you can always just say so. I certainly wouldn’t be offended.” 

“I don’t want that,” you cover your mouth, knowing your face is exposing the truth. Especially with how hot his breath is against your ears, you can barely handle the close proximity. “Besides, even if I were to hypothetically want that, you’re still cuffed and locked away.” “Oh, your highness,” he chuckles knowingly into your ear. “I don’t need anything but my hand to show you something wonderful.” 

Your eyes drift to his right hand and you notice how large his fingers are. If they were to just- 

You shoot up and cover your face. “You are- you are a cruel man!” 

“I can’t deny that,” he shrugged, the smug look on his face not leaving. “But, when you stop playing hard to get, I can give you what you really want." “You’re frustrating. Good night!” You yell, turning around and ready to walk back to your room. 

“Wait, your highness,” Crocodile calls out to you. You look, curious of what he wants to say. 

Crocodile gives you a small grin. “Dream of me, won’t you?” 

[oleander-nin]

Horrortober Day 19- Curiosity(Yandere Rise Mikey x Reader)

A/N, not important: You know, if life screws me over today and I can't finish tomorrows, I think I'm okay with 19 consecutive posts. I'm not happy, but I don't think I'd do anything drastic over this one. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Kidnapping, hinted disturbing imagery w/out detail, obsession, mention of gorey drawing, snooping, yandere themes, dark themes

Words: 1776

Summary: You finally get access to Mikey’s locked notebook and aren't sure the bubbly turtle is as innocent as he seems anymore.

The concrete floor of the lair’s living room was cold, the freezing stone seeping into your shirt and numbing your stomach. You shiver at the feeling, unsure how pleasant you truly thought it felt. Despite insisting for the past thirty minutes it was fine, you were starting to regret your call as the cold latched onto your limbs and was starting to take your arms down too. You never realized how difficult it was to draw with numb fingers. You take a small breath, grumbling quietly as you shift on the floor in an attempt to get warm.

“Hey Mikey?” You catch his attention, frowning slightly because you knew you were giving in to winter's touch. You didn’t think you’d bail so soon. Mikey looks at you, his warm eyes also seeming to know exactly what you wanted, as if he was more surprised you lasted this long.

“I have a big blanket in my bed.” He says simply, turning back to his work. You nod gratefully, pushing your palms against the floor to pick yourself up. You shiver as you walk towards the orange turtles room, your teeth chattering from the brisk air. You didn’t understand why Donnie was so insistent on waiting until one of his projects was complete before cranking up the heat since his lab had its own separate thermal system, but no one dared to complain. Donnie wasn’t against ‘accidentally’ shutting off the system entirely while his room is unaffected. You were all certain it was just to keep Leo away from Donnie’s inventions anyway.

Pushing the door aside, you walk into Mikey’s room. It was the same temperature as the hallway, but the more colorful walls made it feel warmer. If you tried hard enough, you were fairly certain you could have a conversation with the paintings on the walls.

You spend little time admiring the graffiti Mikey covered everything in. You had been here millions of times before, and it had been a few weeks since Mikey added another masterpiece to his room. You drift over to the hammock and shuffle the pillows and blankets around to find your favorite, the large fluffy one Mikey always lets you use. You wrap the plush blanket around yourself, convinced you had just stolen a piece of heaven to sink into. The little warmth your body was generating is trapped within the blanket's fabric, quickly returning the color to your face.

Your eyes drift around the room one last time as you walk to the exit, merely scanning for oddities than truly taking in the details. Your eyes land on a bright red sketchbook sitting inconspicuously on Mikey’s desk, the usual diary lock that kept it closed sitting open and to the side. The sketchbook was open, showing off a drawing of someone familiar. You move closer, ignoring the nagging voice that was scolding you for snooping.

The drawing was of you, sitting next to Mikey on the couch. You were both leaning on each other, hands and legs entangled in the silly pose. Your face was happy, the graphite drawing somehow capturing the light and care in your eyes. You smile softly, kneeling down to take the sketchbook in your hand and admire the drawing more. It was a surprise to see, but a very welcome one.

You thumb the pages over to the beginning, looking through the drawings more. You seemed to be the main focus of most of the drawings, which helped you feel justified in looking through the sketchbook. There were so many sketches of you, the first couple innocent and sweet like the one you first saw. You frown as you glance over the fourth and fifth pages, the detailed drawing of you chained and gagged making you feel uneasy.

The next few pages were similar, all depicting you in ways that made you uncomfortable or sick. You stop looking through at the eleventh drawing, the dead bodies being too similar in looks to your friends and families. You shakily set the book down, unsure how to feel about what you just saw. On one hand, they could very well just be practice, and he found you easy to draw. On the other… 

You shudder, not wanting to dwell on the implications of that. You quickly thumb through the drawings, trying to not look at them as you try to return to the original page that was open when you came in. You’re so engrossed in your mission, you don’t even notice Mikey entering the room and shutting the train car's door behind him. He walks forward, startling you as he grabs the notebook from your hand and carefully closes it, making sure to not bed any of the pages.

You gape at him, eyes wide and barely breathing. You struggle to speak while he locks the notebook, his face blank except for the smile on his lips. It was like he was glad you saw his drawings.

“I-I’m so sorry Mikey, I saw it open and then when I went to grab it, I dropped it and I was trying to fix it, but I couldn’t find the page and-” Mikey kneels in front of you and covers your mouth with his hand, stopping your desperate lies from falling. His eyes were still the same, warm and kind and oh so innocent, something you were starting to not believe. He looks down at the sketchbook in his hand, then sets it back down on the desk.

“It’s fine,” He lies, the words coming easy. He keeps his hand firmly over your mouth, not trusting you to not interrupt. “I was going to give it to you anyways! I’m just a little disappointed you peaked so early. It kind of ruins the gift.”

He pouts at you, his hand finally dropping from your mouth. Before you can speak, his arms wrap around your lower back and pull you forward, sending you crashing into his chest. You grunt in discomfort, your head knocking comfortably against the dull points of his plastron and the blanket being the only thing that kept you from the rough texture. 

“So, how much did you see?”

His soft voice sends chills down your spine. You weren’t used to so much forced happiness in his voice, and no longer being able to see his face from your position made it so much worse. You gently try to push him back, your heart thudding against your ribcage. Your fists slowly close, his arms holding you tight against him so you have no chance of moving. You try to swallow the lump in your throat, desperately chasing down the fear that was starting to consume you. You try to think of what to say, unsure of how to step to calm down the young mutant.

“Not much,” Your throat is dry when you speak, causing your words to be quieter and harder than you wanted. Mikey shifts you closer to him, his face pressed into your hair. You don’t try to struggle in his arms, wanting nothing more than for him to calm down and let you go. “I just saw the first couple pages.”

Mikey hums in acknowledgement, his chest lifting higher as he breathes deeply for a moment. His voice is tight, almost nervous. You weren’t sure how to take it. “What did you think?”

“They were… Nice.” You say, your stomach churning once more as you remember the drawings and what they contained. The blood and gore of your family members from the final page would haunt you for years to come. Mikey nods despite your unease, seeming to brighten at the answer. 

“Good. I’m glad you like them. I really really like you, you know. I wanted to give that to you before I asked you out but…” Mikey takes a deep breath, his voice darkening and his arms growing tighter around you. “Well, you ruined it. You ruined the surprise, and I’m really mad at you right now.”

Your blood runs cold at his words, unease biting at your heart and soaking into your veins. Mikey doesn’t speak for a moment, his body tense. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you got the feeling you had to leave. Now.

“Hey Mikey?” You mumble, trying to tread lightly. You didn't want to make him more upset. He squeezes you, letting you know he was listening without making a sound. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I need to go home. I- I have homework, remember?”

Mikey doesn’t answer, his grip tightening more and you were sure you could feel your bones stress under the pressure. You open your mouth to continue, but he cuts you off, the usually bubbly turtle's words turning cold.

“You’re not leaving.” He says shortly, an almost whine in his voice despite the cold words. You tense, unsure how to respond. The growing fear in your heart wasn’t helping you think clearly, and you couldn’t see a good way to get out of this.

Mikey breathes through his nose, trying to calm himself so he doesn’t do anything brash. You both sit there for a few moments, your face forcefully pressed up against Mikey’s plastron. Your breathing is starting to get more laborious as panic continues to set in, Mikey’s compressive hold not helping in the slightest. The turtle himself also seemed unsure what to do next, his arms shaking as he held you. Neither of you move nor speak, not wanting to break the heavy silence that fell upon the room.

“I’m sorry,” MIkey says suddenly, his voice making you both jump. He licks his lips before continuing, your silence encouraging him to finish. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave. I need you. This, this wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

Before you can ask what he meant, Mikey stands up with you in his arms, his spots and eyes glowing as he lets his powers flow. Your panic escapes you now, screams and cries erupting from your float as chains wrap around you and lock you in place. Now fully bound, Mikey sets you down in his hammock bed, his eyes shaky while he backs away. He looks over you, seemingly looking for injuries while you continue to scream and curse his name. Mikey seems upset at the outburst, quickly walking out of sight before reappearing with a small cloth he shoves into your mouth. The dusty rag burns on your tongue, making you choke and cough.

“I’ll be back.” Mikey mumbles, his eyes disappearing as he turns around and marches off, leaving you to steam alone in his cold, treacherous room.

[samwise1548]

Because I'm a silly goose and kinda obsessed with my own art rn (rare), I'm gonna share some process sketches and junk of the tmagp characters as I was figuring out designs. Nobody will see this but that's okay!! This is just for me anyways lol.

Gonna put it all under this cut cuz it is loooong.

These are kinda the first iterations of Sam and Alice once the actual show was released (I had drawn Sam before, with the trailer. These versions of Sam are more similar to my first few attempts at him.)

[ID: Two drawings of characters from The Magnus Protocol. The first one features Samama Khalid and Alice Dyre talking together. Alice is a trans woman with albinism. She's wearing a blue jacket and a red plaid skirt and yellow diamond earrings. Sam is a brown man wearing a black suit with a red collared shirt and a white tie.

The second drawing is only of Sam, looking confused at some papers as he walks. He's wearing a short sleeve shirt and baggy pants. \End ID]

Alice was always gonna have albinism. It just took a bit to figure out her clothes and actual silhouette. Sam, I had to redesign his hair on 5 separate occasions before I was satisfied.

And speaking of Sam... How about some close ups on his newest design!!!

[ID: A drawing of Sam Khalid. It is the same pose as the previous drawing, but the sketch has been altered and colored in. Where Sam had straight hair before, now it is curly and light brown. He has an earring on, and his outfit is now with a brown overshirt above it and a pair of red pants. He also has a beard now. \End ID]

I kid you not, I have like 4 pages of sketches in my sketchbook just on Sam Khalid. I love him so much <3 . I dunno what it was that made me change his hair to curly exactly, but I'm glad I did. He is now my corduroy boy ^^ .

Some things you might have missed or were not visible from the lineup drawing:

[ID: Two images of drawings done on paper.

The first image is of Sam Khalid drawn twice. The doodle on the left is a closeup of his face and curly hair. The second is of his outfit, similar to the one featured in the previous finished drawing. Between the two is a sketch of an earring design, with a red flower and green leaves. An arrow leading to it says "plant earring right"

The second image is of a tattoo design of some sort of house plant done in green marker. An arrow points to it and says "plant tattoo on left forearm." /End ID]

I know in my heart that Sam is a plant dad and no one can tell me otherwise u_u

... And lastly, Teddy, since he was not actually in the lineup. I do have some idea of his design, even before I started on the lineup. And I was so tempted to include him anyways! But the bit was too funny to compromise on. I promise I'll draw him later!!! For now, here's the innitial sketch I have of him:

[ID: A doodle of Teddy Vaughn from the Magnus Protocol. Teddy is a black man with short hair and a beard and moustache. His smile is being stifled slightly, like he's holding in a laugh. \End ID]

Not a lot to go on for him, I know lol. I'll get to it later dw. His story isn't over yet, I'm sure of it :)

[desultory-novice]

hello! I've been seeing this new return to dream land/ merry magoland Kirby manga around, but I can't find any details. Would you happen to know anything about it?

Thanks in advance! I'd really like to know what it's called.

Based on the style, it looks like Hoshi no Kirby ~ Yurutto Pupupu, which is another (…) gag manga made up of VERY short chapters (4-8 pages) released on a monthly basis in Young Girl’s Magazine, Ciao.

While the monthly manga is published in black and white, the volume releases are in color. They are also (as far as I’m aware) PHYSICAL ONLY meaning you can’t buy them online without importing the book.

I’ve read several chapters of it and while it’s cute, I can assure you that most of the content is going to be short and silly gags and word puns (so many puns…) that poke light-hearted fun at the story rather than an attempt a serious adaptation of any of the games

…Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Just that you aren’t missing all that much imo?

[onlyyvette]

[req] idw rodi and oppy maybe?? op getting spiked down by rodi (who won't stop even after multiple overloads) in a mating press is *chefs kiss* 🤌

Interesting Incentives

warnings: sub/bottom optimus + top/dom rodimus + breeding kink + rough sex + valve eating + a bit of humiliation + overstimulation + mating press + dacryphilia + Roddy hates doing his work + but if he gets the Optipussy out of it best believe he's getting it done🙏🏾

word count: 2320

a/n: I don't usually write much for Optimus/Roddy but I really enjoyed this ^-^ to add on to this I had to only put their names in their respective colors because making their writing colored was literally hurting my eyes...

Also while this takes place in mtmte, just pretend they had a canon iteration there for this scenario to happen

"Optimusss," Rodimus groaned, his helm hitting his desk with a heavy thunk. "I can't do this. Seriously, I can't. You know paperwork is one of my very few weaknesses," he huffed. Rodimus had been tasked with filling out some paperwork on some incident involving his crew doing certain things on certain foreign planets that they shouldn't be doing...Like he cares about that! Like yeah, maybe Cybertronians are banned from certain planets for that reason, why should he have to pay for it?

"Rodimus. We've already gone over this. If you're not able to keep your crew in check, there will be consequences." Optimus feels like he's explained several times over and over again. Probably because he has. "I get it, I get it. But do you know how boring this slag is? By the time I finish this work, a new war would have started, another 4 million years---"

"Okay, I understand." Optimus interrupts him and sighs heavily, closing his optics. How could he get the speedster to get through his work when he has the attention span of a turbopup? He open his optics only to find that Rodimus has started to scroll on his datapad, doing Primus know what.

Wait...what if there was a way to get him to do his work...

Optimus jumps a bit as he finally has an idea. It may be a bit...unrefined if the word fit, but it was his last chance to get Rodimus to actually get something done. "Rodimus." Optimus straightens up, catching the attention of the Lost Light captain. "I have an incentive for you to complete your work. One that I find you would consider."

"...What is it?" Rodimus seems a bit hesitant. Usually, Optimus' idea of a reward didn't match his own, but the look in Optimus' optics made him think about the possibility of the offer being worth it.

"If you finish your workload on time, I will allow you to interface with me however your spark desires." Optimus almost regrets what he says when he sees Rodimus choke a bit in surprise and bang on his chestplate, attempting to unclog the oral lubricant he choked on. He was no stranger to fragging Optimus as they were conjunx endurae, but for Optimus to just...lay fragging him on a table as a reward for him was something he did not expect from the Prime.

"Are you saying that...you're offering yourself up as a reward for me finishing my work?" Rodimus says incredulously. "You might as well just say: 'Finish your work and you can frag me silly'," Rodimus says with a mischievous grin. Optimus huffs as he turns his helm away a bit, his faceplate flushing a bit under his mask. "No matter how you believe I should have said it, but my offer still stands. I will be back in the next 6 joors. I would like to see your work done by then, Rodimus."

"No need to worry about me," Rodimus winks at the Prime. "I'll get it done in half the time." Optimus nods and exits the room. The moment the heavy door shuts behind him, Optimus sighs heavily. It's not like he wasn't open to holding up his end of the deal, but now he knows that Rodimus will only want to finish his work if he gets to frag Optimus. Not only that, but even he knew that six joors was too much time to give to the speedster to finish his work. He only gave that extra time because he truly was looking forward to Rodimus getting his reward.

Optimus shakes his helm, clearing his straying thoughts in his processor. Hopefully, Rodimus will take long enough so that Optimus can finish his proper paperwork. Still though, he can't get Rodimus out of his processor as he walks down the halls to his own office...

Not even a full two joors later, Rodimus calls Optimus' comm line and eagerly announces that he's finished. Optimus had only gotten halfway through his own work! Yes, he did expect Rodimus to finish in under his time limit, but he thought that the speedster was only bragging. Well...I've clearly been proven wrong Optimus thought to himself as he rises up from his chair and makes his way to Rodimus' office.

✿✿✿

Rodimus crowds Optimus onto his desk, placing his servos on both sides of Optimus' hips. "I told you I'd finish it in half the time needed," Rodimus purred as he nibbled on Optimus' finial. He only shivered and leaned into the touch. Rodimus placed a light kiss onto his conjunx's finial and laid his servos on his generous hips. "You don't know how badly I've been wanting this," Rodimus breathed out. Me either... Optimus thought to himself. The pair hadn't had much time lately to be with each other, let alone interface and it had left the both of them longing for each other.

Rodimus began to paw at Optimus panel and he let it slide away immediately. The speedster's digits made it's way to Optimus' valve, only to notice that it was already lubricating. Not that he didn't expect Optimus to be wet already but this much slick was...

Rodimus' suspicions were confirmed when he pushed two digits into Optimus valve and was met with no resistance at all. "Did you really open yourself up for me," Rodimus' optics widened in disbelief. Optimus turned away, his faceplate blushing furiously now. "Well, I know how hard you work when your focused and you seemed serious when you said you wouldn't take long so...I just decided to prepare myself for you."

Rodimus immediately begins to thrust his digits into Optimus, taking the Prime by surprise, causing him to let out an unrestrained whine. "Well aren't you sweet," Rodimus teased as he continued pumping his digits. "Mhh, nghh, AH---" Optimus' optics widen as he feels Rodimus grind one of his digits into his node. Harshly. "R-Rodimus please," Optimus begged for his conjunx to let up on the pressure to his node, his pretty blue optics gazing imploringly at his conjunx. It only caused him to press even harder, ripping a broken moan from the Prime.

"Relax," Rodimus rolled his optics. "You can take it, can't you?" Optimus inhales sharply when Rodimus doesn't let up and nods quickly. "Good," Rodimus praises his conjunx and leans into his faceplates. He gnaws a bit on Optimus' already kiss-bruised lips, asking for entry. Optimus parts his lips, allowing Rodimus to slip his glossa in and envelop him in a heated kiss.

Rodimus pushes the Prime down fully on his desk as he deepens the kiss, attacking Optimus' glossa and fully dominating him with just his intake. "Mhnghh...hmmm..." Optimus whimpered into the kiss, his processor feeling a bit fuzzy as Rodimus keeps up his assault in his intake. He doesn't even realize that Rodimus had been pushing him down until his spinal-strut hit the table.

Rodimus pulled away and admired his view of the Prime. Optimus' optics were half-lidded, his faceplate flushed the prettiest blue and he had a bit of oral lubricant running down the corner of his intake. Primus, he already looked fucked out even without fragging him. Finally taking his focus off of his conjunx's wrecked face, he decided to give more attention to his valve.

"I just can't get over the fact that I went so long without seeing this part of you Optimus," Rodimus says, lust filling his optics as he runs a digit down Optimus' puffy folds, watching them clench on nothing. "Thankfully, I'll be able to do more than looking today." Rodimus grabs the Prime by his large thigh and pushes his spike to Optimus' tight heat. He doesn't even remember when his spike pressurized but even that slips away from him as he pushes his spike into Optimus.

"R-Rodimus! Ahhh...nghh, not t-too fast---" Optimus whimpers as he feels Rodimus' spike fill him up so quickly. Rodimus' spike isn't that big for a mech of Optimus' size, but it's very long, Optimus sometimes feeling like it would hit his gestation seal if Rodimus goes too quickly. "Ah, s-sorry Optimus, you're just so---tight!" Rodimus punctuates with a rough thrust, directly into one of Optimus' more sensitive nodes in his valve, causing the Prime to let out an undignified moan.

Rodimus truly couldn't hold himself back. The magnets in his valve were practically pulling his spike in deeper and they were massaging his spike just right. Not only that, but Optimus' valve was so tight, so stimulating the it made him lose control. He tightens his grip on Optimus' thighs and pushes them back to Optimus' front, his thighs almost touching his windshield. "...What are you---" Before Optimus can get his sentence out, Rodimus begins pounding his valve so harshly that he chokes on his own words.

"HaaAH! Rodi-- AnGH! Oh!" Optimus lets out deep moans as Rodimus frags his valve with no restraint. With this new position, he can feel Rodimus' long spike getting dangerously close to his gestation seal. And it it was close to his seal, it also meant he was getting close to his forge..."F-frag you're so tight!" Rodimus groans as he pushes deeper into Optimus valve. At first, he doesn't know why but it's when he realizes what his spike is close to hitting does it finally click.

"Oohh, so I'm close to your seal, huh? W-want me to fill you up with my transfluid, yeah?" Optimus nods his head vigorously, his optics filled with charge. "Yes! Yes, want to-- Ohh! Mghnn, fill me up! Please!" He seemed so desperate to have his valve and forge filled up with Rodimus' transfluid that it only brought Rodimus closer to his overload than he would like.

"Y-you'd like that right? For me to to fuck your pretty pussy and fill it up so much you can barely walk?" Optimus whimpers at the speedster's crude use of human obscenities, yet it only makes him feel hotter under his plating. "Yes! Haah! Please, yes!" Optimus crying now, optical fluid flowing freely as it rolled down his face. He was so close to his overload, his frame trembling all over as Rodimus kept pumping his spike into him. His valve burned in such a pleasurable way whenever Rodimus' spike would reach deep into him, hitting his most sensitive nodes. "Rodimus! I-I'm---" Optimus' frame trembles violently as he feels his oncoming overload. "F-frag! Overload for me Optimus," Rodimus moans into Optimus' audial.

"GhhkK---" Optimus can barely even make any noise as his overload rocks through his frame. His valve drenches Rodimus' spike in his lubricant, tightening up almost impossibly so. "Hahh, Optimus---" Rodimus spills into him right after, painting the inside of his valve a light pink. As the pair lay down on the desk, their cooling fans spinning rapidly, Rodimus pushes Optimus' legs back into their previous condition. The Prime has a confused look on his face until Rodimus begins to push into him again.

"Rodimus, unghh...your still, ahh!" Optimus whines as Rodimus begins to frag him again. "You can go again...can't you Optimus?" Rodimus laughs breathily. "Nghh! I-I think I can---AH!" Optimus yelps embarrassingly when Rodimus bites down hard on his finial. He expected it to hurt and it did but...it only added on to the pleasure he felt with Rodimus' spike pumping in his valve. "Ahh! R-rodi---" The speedster shuts Optimus up with a violent kiss. His glossa forces its way into Optimus' intake, wrestling with Optimus' own glossa. The prime moans deeply into the kiss, allowing his intake to be dominated as Rodimus claimed his valve at a rough pace.

Optimus was an oversensitive wreck now, his helm spinning with the overwhelming pleasure his frame was feeling. Even quicker than the last time, Optimus overloads hard. "MMNGHH!" His load moan is barely muffled by Rodimus mouth on his. He squirts for a second time that night and can feel his frame run out of energy, his cooling fans working at the max. Rodimus still hadn't overloaded yet, still rutting into Optimus like his life depended on it. Optimus whimpered in overstimulation as the speedster continued to ravage his valve, chasing his own orgasm.

"Ghh---gonna overload! Optimus!" It was Rodimus' last warning before he finally released his transfluid into Optimus' valve. Optimus didn't know why, but Rodimus' last orgasm triggered another orgasm. It was smaller than the last two, but it still wasn't easy on his pleasure drunk frame. "Unghh...mmhnn, Rodimus," Optimus moans weakly as his orgasm passes through him, fully enveloping his frame in bliss. Finally, Rodimus pulled his depressurized spike out.

Once Rodimus saw the state of Optimus' valve, he was almost sorry he couldn't pressurize anymore. Optimus' valve lips were puffy from abuse and slick with his and Rodimus' overloads. His valve was absolutely drenched with the pairs' fluid, the lubricant dripping out of him a bit, creating an obscene image. While he couldn't frag Optimus again there was something else he could do.

Rodimus crouches and pulls himself close to Optimus' valve. He immediately presses his intake into Optimus' sopping valve, causing the Prime to make a a sound unbecoming of a Prime. "Hahnn, No more, oohhh," Optimus whines as he feels Rodimus glossa make its way into his valve, eating him out like it's his last meal. Rodimus sucks up all the transfluid in the Prime's valve, tasting the bittersweetness of their release. Wanting to give Optimus one last overload, he begins to rub furiously at his node.

"O-oh! Please Rodimus, I-I'm---MhHNGG!" Optimus overloads one last time, his vision whitening out for a bit before clearing again. As Optimus lays down on the desk, Rodimus slumped down on his chassis as they catch their breath, Optimus can't help but look forward to the next time he offers himself up as an incentive for his conjunx.