#also these darlings *smell* to put it mildly

[nights-at-crystarium]

Paprika doesn't appear in the comic for a long while, but now you know the real wol :>

[pinkberrytea]

Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.

Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.

An exploration of Astarion’s character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior; somnophilia; orgasm edging; piv sex

The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.

Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.

He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.

His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.

“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.

“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.

He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.

With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.

Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.

After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves crowning your mound, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently sucking on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.

You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.

Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing arousal unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.

The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?

“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.

Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your mound resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.

Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.

“Fear not: you are mine.”

You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.

Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs into your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.

Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.

“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”

As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look with your face hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, the proximity between you such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.

“Until the world falls down.”

When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.

He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.

“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You failed him, just as he failed the others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.

“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.

Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.

“Astarion…”

The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.

As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs into the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Mercifully, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.

“You have given me everything.”

His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.

As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.

“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.

You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

[toomiieimagiines]

hi hi there! sooooo, how about some Tsukasa cuddling headcanons? Feel free to ignore if you’ve got better ones! Have a super awesome day! >:D

YOU ALL ARE A BUNCH OF DIRTY DIRTY TSUKASA LOVERS!! WHAT IS WITH HIM THAT YOU LOVE SO MUCH! ToT love a good cuddle hc…. was honestly excited to see it… (can we address how he dresses sometime? what a cutie pie…. honestly, i didn’t really favor kasa before i started writing for him!! he’s so darling!!!>_<) AND SORRY FOR THE MINI HIATUS!! life’s been kinda hard recently!! ^_^||| sorry for it being kinda short!

EDIT: i forgot to add tags like a scatterbrain…. -.- i hope people can still see this…

Tsukasa Tenma cuddling hc’s (+ more!)

Too hot to handle… (LITERALLY)

So so warm, an actual walking furnace, YET HES FREEZING!

“Honey, it’s so so cold please…” (whiny (HOW SURPRISING))

“‘Kasa, baby, I’m sweating…”

LOVES and I mean LOVES to cuddle

Who would believe me if I told them he’d pounce on you at any given opportunity? (OMG wuttt??? that’s soooo unlike him!!)

“Sweeetheart, I just miss you!”

“Honey, please when do I ever ask you for anything??”

Trust if he’s sick he makes it your problem too, like pls unsick me!!

Smells like shortbread

You honestly don’t know why because the only time he wears cologne is if he’s going somewhere fancy, and it’s never sweet

Maybe it’s Sakis weird love for baking, maybe it’s a little fairy who likes to sprinkle him with it while he sleeps, he doesn’t really know.

Favorite positions are ones where you’re facing eachother

Doesn’t really like spooning, he doesn’t find it as satisfying

ALSO VERY PARTIAL TO HIM LAYING HIS HEAD ON YOUR CHEST

He likes your heartbeat!!! Is that a crime?

Will genuinely NEVER let you get back up after

He will fight you… Its infuriating

WRAPS HIS ARMS SO TIGHT AROUND YOU, HES LIKE A TON OF BRICKS

Didn’t know I signed up for cuddling sheetmetal, thanks for the warning!

Honestly, he’s so boyfriend tho it’s insane…. like yes yes of course you’re my boyfriend!

AGHHHA HES SO CUTIEEE!!! i enjoy leaving these drabbles after my hcs!! it makes me feel like i actually did something! keep requesting, sorry if i haven’t gotten to yours yet!! there’s been so many! thank you so much!^w^

Rehearsal sucks, anyone who’s ever done anything knows it, and so does Tsukasa. He’s exhausted, and he knows the one thing that’ll recharge him.

You.

He sends you a text akin to “please let me come over before I die and it’ll be your fault”, and who could say no to that!? That’s how you ended up with a mildly sweaty Tsukasa laying on top of your previously perfectly made bed…

“You’re too warm! I can lay with you, but this is ridiculous!” You squirm, trying to pry the boy off of you. When did he get so heavy?! It’s like a bag of bricks is holding you down!

“Please sweetheart, when do I ever ask you for anything?!” He whines, wrapping his arms even tighter around you.

“Five minutes ago you asked me to scratch your back, you asked me for a drink from the vending machine because you didn’t wanna get your wallet-“

“Never mind!” He cuts you off, covering your mouth. “It’s the last time, I swear! I promise that I won’t ever again!-”

You look up at him, unimpressed.

“For the..” he looks away dejectedly, taking his hand off your mouth, “rest of the time I’m here…”

You snicker at his sudden sheepishness, “what happened to the passion, ‘Kasa?” Your fingers run through his blonde hair, twisting it around your fingers.

“You put the fire out… If you could see my eyes right now, you’d see they’re gray and dull….”

You smack his head playfully, “don’t bite the hands that scratch your back.”

He just sighs, burying his head deeper into your neck. He’s warm, REALLY warm, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind anymore. It really is times like these that make you appreciate him the most. He’s not performing, he’s not playing, he’s just kinda there, and you’re kinda there too. Everything can be so much, but life feels mundane and boring when you two are like this - in a good way! It feels domestic.

“I love you, Tsukasa. Y’know that?” You lift his head up, looking into his eyes. Damnit, he’s looks kinda sweet. It almost makes you feel bad for teasing him… Almost.

He leans into the touch, eyes closing again. His voice is uncharacteristically soft when he replies, “I do. I love you too, a lot.”

A beat passes,

“I’m aloud to fall asleep, right?”

“Tsukasa!”

[superficialdomina]

Unwrapped

A secret Santa gift for @glitchquake ❤️❤️

Summary: An Avenger/Time Lord!Loki x fem!reader, friends-to-lovers, fluffy/smutty one-shot.

My masterlist

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI! Explicit smut, PIV, oral sex (f receiving). A smidgen of angst.

Author's Note: Darling @glitchquake, merry Christmas!! 🎄🎄🎁🎁I had so much fun with this prompt and with weaving in some little Easter eggs (or should they be candy canes!?!!) just for you. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

And another thank you to the wonderful @fictive-sl0th for arranging this terrific Secret Santa. I was so glad to be a part of it!! (Readers, you can find the Secret Santa 2023 Master List here).

Prompt: Walking in and seeing Loki wrapped in nothing but red ribbon under the Christmas tree and then you two do the do.

It had turned into a perfect Christmas decorating party. The smell of baking gingerbread filled the Tower common room, Mariah Carey was belting out the chorus to All I want for Christmas, and Nat was at this very moment balanced precariously on the top of a high-backed chair to add a glittery star to the apex of Stark's 12-foot Christmas tree. The rest of you had been happily adorning the tree - and the common room - for several hours, with all manner of baubles, candy canes, lights, and tinsel. Someone had made an early batch of eggnog, and a holiday buzz hung excitedly in the room.

You were humming along to Wham’s Last Christmas, when you caught Loki’s figure entering the room. He looked as disdainful as ever, although on this occasion, an air of skepticism coloured his general standoffishness.

“What,” he asked, distastefully running his fingers over the pink and green lights, “is this about?”

“It’s December 1st, Loki!” you beamed at him, ignoring his curmudgeonly attitude and generously wrapping a spare length of sparkly tinsel around his shoulders. “It’s a Christmas decorating party!”

Loki frowned, but a smirk lingered at the edges of his mouth; your enthusiasm was difficult to curb at the worst of times, and often proved infectious. He began to say something – probably characteristically barbed – before he spotted the small pile of gifts under the tree. “And tell me, darling - what are those?”

“Christmas gifts from Little Miss Festive over here,” Tony cut in, gesturing towards you with the glass of eggnog in his hand before thrusting it upon Loki. “There’s even one for you, Horns.”

Loki narrowed his eyes and turned to you, looking mildly suspicious. “What is it?”

“I’m not telling you, Loki!” You purse your lips in mock admonishment. “You can wait until Christmas eve like everyone else!”

“Why?” Loki asked.

“Tradition,” you said, with an air of finality that put an end to any further argument.

The tower’s Christmas eve party was in full swing. Tony’s fancy stakeholder party, full of elegant hors d’oeuvres and flowing champagne, had happened a few days earlier; to your relief, tonight’s event included only the live-in members of the Tower, with a few bonus loved ones here and there. It was delightfully warm and friendly. Thor was beaming widely at everyone around him, and he had not taken off the chunky red pompom beanie you had made him since he’d unwrapped it several hours earlier. Even Loki seemed to be enjoying himself.

“Congratulations on acing your finals, darling,” he had murmured to you when he first arrived. You’d looked at him in confusion; you’d finished your end-of-term exams only a few days ago, and you didn’t expect to know the results for several weeks.

“How do you- Loki, I haven’t even heard-“

“Oh, just something I picked up around the Timelines,” he added with a wink, as understanding finally dawned on you. If only my future-self had also been brave enough to tell him I’m madly in love with h-

But you wouldn’t think about that tonight. You’d been having such a wonderful time; for your first Christmas with the Avengers, you couldn’t have felt more at home. Yes, you were a little blue about your unrequited-love situation, but you were determined to focus on how lucky you were to be here. What wonderful friendships you had built this year! How magical it felt to be included, to belong! No, it wouldn’t do to dwell on the one thing, that one little thing…

Making gifts for your new chosen family had been so much fun. In addition to Thor’s beanie (which was now looking somewhat askew on his blonde head), you’d made long, checkered scarfs for Steve and Tony, a pretty maroon shawl for Wanda, and a pair of cute boot-cuffs for Nat. They’d all made very kind ooh-ing noises as they’d each unwrapped their little hand-made gifts from under the tree.

But the project that you were the most proud of was the gift you’d made for Loki: a pair of unbelievably soft, dark-green, fingerless gloves. You had worked incredibly hard on them. It had been slow and painstaking; the soft merino wool was so fine, and the needles so small, they made your hands cramp. The intricate cable-knit pattern you had learned specifically for this project was complicated, and you had pulled out your stitches on multiple occasions in the name of perfection. You only hoped that he would enjoy them. Speaking of which…

“Loki!” Thor boomed suddenly, grabbing the attention of most of the room. “Brother, there is a still a gift under the tree for you!”

Loki’s eyes darted to you, and he gave you a charming smile as he knelt down to pick up the small package. He unwrapped it gently, tentatively peeling back the brightly patterned paper until he held the gloves in his hands. You realized you were holding your breath as you waited for his response.

Loki didn’t look up; he traced the detailed curves of cable knit with one finger. “How – you made these? They’re… How are they so soft?”

You felt your face warming. “Made with love!” you joked, loosely patting his shoulder and laughing. But your laugh was cut short as you saw a look pass over Loki’s face. Oh no.

“Oh, haha – I don’t mean Love love,” you continued quickly. “You know, you’re my friend – friends. All of you. And I- you know, I love you - all.” The end of your sentence was lost in Thor’s smothering embrace, with generous hear-hears from the rest of the team as they chinked glasses and went back to their holiday chatter.

Loki had stood, but he continued to stare down at the open package in his hand. Did he not want them? What was wrong with them? Damn it, you cursed yourself, you should have just gotten him something simple! You didn’t mean the gloves to be any sort of grand gesture… You would never! Stupid. Why didn’t you just get him a cool iPhone case? Because he wouldn’t use it, you admitted to yourself, and anyway, what was wrong with giving your friends nice things and telling them that they were important to you? Nothing, you thought defiantly, and if Loki’s going to be all suspicious and grouchy about it then he can go –

But before you could open your mouth to give Loki the small lecture you were working up to, he had taken three long strides to the common room door and disappeared out into the hallway.

You were astonished. He just left?! Goddamn him and his shitty communication skills! If he’s that upset, he could at least talk to you about it. You talk to him about everything! Maybe that’s the problem, a cold voice muttered inside your head. You’d finally crossed over into “too much”. As usual.

No. No way. This wasn’t fair - he couldn’t just be mad at you and not even give you the chance to explain. Fuck it, you were going to fix this.

You followed Loki into the hall, but by the time you got through the crowded common room, he was well and truly in the lift. You furiously pressed the call button, repeatedly, even though you knew it wouldn’t make a difference to the speed of the damn thing. You watched the digital numbers slowly tick up to the 26th floor.

Finally, after an achingly slow ascent, you made it to Loki’s rooms and banged hard on his door.

“Loki!” you shouted through it. “Open up! You have to talk to me! You have to –"

The door was apparently unlocked; it swung open at your aggressive knocking, and you tentatively stepped into the darkened apartment.

“Loki?” you called, as you walked through the quiet rooms. You were sure he was here – you’d seen the elevator stop on this floor. And besides, where else would he go? “Loki! Loki, please, you have to talk to me. Please don’t be mad. You don’t have to wear them. You don’t even have to keep them. Goddammit Loki, where are you?” you almost shouted the last, as you pushed open his bedroom door.

You were immediately silenced by the sight in front of you.

Loki’s enormous, indulgent bed was decorated extravagantly in Christmas décor. Fairy lights tangled with fresh boughs of fir tree were entwined through the posts, dotted here and there with tiny silver baubles and bright red holly berries. Like a Christmas tree, you thought, mesmerized.

Loki sat underneath the elegantly twisted branches, leaning back against the ornate headboard, his head resting cheekily on one fist as he waited casually for you to spot him. One of his eternally long legs was crossed over the other at the knee.

He was wearing nothing but his trademark smirk and a modestly positioned bright red bow.

“Hello, darling,” he said softly. “Merry Christmas. I hope you like the gift I got you?”

“Loki, I- what? What is going on? How did you – you were barely minutes in front of me! How did you get into this getup so fast?”

Loki’s fingertips gave a little green crackle. Oh. Of course.

“Aren’t you going to unwrap it?” he asked darkly, his cocky smirk even wider.

“I…” Don’t analyse this too much, you told yourself, as you woodenly moved towards him. You reached out an arm to try to pull at the bow, but of course, with him perched in the centre of his enormous bed, you couldn’t quite reach; you lifted one knee onto the mattress, arm still outstretched for the bow… then the other…

Before you realized what was happening, Loki had taken your hands in his and pulled you towards him. He was sitting upright, and he gazed intently into your face, his eyes darting between yours as he quietly murmured to you. “Is this alright?”

You nodded dumbly. Alright? It was everything you had ever wanted – Loki, naked and stretched out before you like a banquet, with a comically large red bow hiding his –

Your eyes widened as you abruptly spotted exactly what the ribbon had been concealing; beneath it, Loki was rock hard. You caught yourself involuntarily wetting your lips with your tongue.   

The low, flickering glimmer cast by the Christmas lights was beautifully romantic, and you felt yourself melt into him as he gently pushed your hair behind your ear, cradling your head in his large hands and firmly pulling your face towards him. His mouth found yours, and your heart beat madly in your chest as he kissed you for the first time.

In all your wildest imaginings, it could never have been like this. His kiss was firm, but his lips were as soft as dew; the tongue gently exploring your mouth was skilled, but tender. Your hands reached for his hips, at last meeting the loose end of the red ribbon and pulling the bow free. Without breaking his kiss, he carefully laid you back on his bed.

Loki’s long, muscled body was now kneeling before you, his lean, strong thighs holding him steady above you as he used his hands to caress your body. It was more sensual that you had even been touched… had ever even dreamt of being touched. As rushes of hot, vivid lust reached every part of your skin, every drop of your blood, you realized you had also never felt so… so safe.

Loki pulled away from you, his perfect torso towering above you as he knelt between your legs. He gazed at you longingly as he slid a hand under each of your thighs. “May I?” he asked throatily.

“Yes,” you murmured, your voice a bare whisper.

Loki didn’t hesitate, almost falling into you as he dipped his head to place his strong, clever tongue upon you. The bliss was immediate and exquisite. You felt yourself writhe under him, heard yourself whimper and moan as he deftly played his fingers over you, in you; every place he found to touch or kiss you came as the perfect note in the perfect order. In the few moments you allowed yourself to open your eyes, you were met with the beautiful scene of Christmas romance he had created above you… Created for you…

His fingers curled gently, knowing the speed and rhythm you needed, and you let him lead you on towards the sweet release he promised you. Your fingers found his raven hair and twisted their way into it, not meaning to pull, but inevitably losing control as he pushed you closer. He moaned wantonly as you tugged.

That was all he needed to pull you over the edge into orgasmic oblivion. You came hard, crying out, pulling his hair again in time with the unconscious pulsing of your pelvic floors. He didn’t stop, pulling you onwards, sucking and licking and pumping as your body continued to convulse, until you cried out again, pulling him away from you as the sensation became too much.

When you opened your eyes to see him above you, he was gazing at you hungrily.

“Loki…” you almost sobbed.

He brought his perfect, sculpted body close to yours; he expertly guided himself to you, the wetness generated by the magnificent orgasm he had given you allowing him to glide into you with ease, despite his generous girth. And when he was settled in you, fit so perfectly inside you, he finally gave in. With a deep growl, he began to move.

“Faster,” you moaned, begging him, needing him to give you more. The stretch you felt as your body accommodated him was magnificent.

His hands still roamed your body; his impressively sensitive touch finding pleasure in your pleasure. His beautiful dark curls hung sluttishly about his sharp face, loose and wild. With eyes closed, his thrusts messy, he chased release above you, until with a sharp groan, he came.

He took a few moments to compose himself, drawing in deep breaths, before opening his eyes to meet yours. In a single movement, he rolled to his side, slipping out of you and easily enfolding you in his long, strong arms, your back to his broad torso. Your chest began to rise and fall in time with his.

With a difficulty that was only partially due to the weight of his arm across you, you pulled yourself away from his chest and turned to face him.

“Loki - what happened? I followed you up here because I thought you were furious with me. Why did you leave in such a rush after you opened my gift? You didn’t like the gloves?”

“My darling,” Loki purred, pulling you tightly back into him. “I adore them. They are utterly perfect.” He gave a dramatic little sigh, and his fingertips traced invisible patterns on your back. “When I opened them, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and wonder. That you would give me something so beautiful… So me… The hours you must have spent meticulously crafting them. And then, that you did it for love…”

“Actually, I said with love,” you laughed.

His fingertips froze their pretty movements on your skin, and you looked up to see his face ashen. “Oh no! No, Loki, don’t be sad. I did… I mean, I do…”

You took a deep breath, and decided, finally, that honesty was the best policy.

“Loki, I do love you. I cherish you. I want to gift you a pair of green knit mittens every Christmas for as long as you’ll accept them.” You paused nervously. “But if you don’t- I mean, if you want to stay friends, I’ll… I’ll be OK… with that-“

“Dear heart,” he murmured into your hair, idly picking at the shreds of red ribbon strewn about you both. “I think we are a bit beyond that. Don’t you?”

“Well…” You chuckled again. “I guess so, yeah.”

Loki gently tucked a finger under your chin, pulling your face towards him so that he could lightly kiss you mouth. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

“Merry Christmas, Loki.”

Secret Santa taglist

@joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[yandere-fics]

can we have the NSFW alphabet for Elisha?

I just love her too much

(I took a couple of days off to finally get around to Demon Slayer season 3, which btw god bless whoever directed it because it was a phenomenal job. Anyways I'm back and at it. Elisha is mildly gross.)

Warning: afab genitals referenced.

♡ Elisha's NSFW Alphabet ♡

♡ A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ♡

It's subpar, I mean you can ask for what you want but she's not going to fully know right away until you tell her and when you tell her, she'll feel very crappy for not realizing. It's just that her stamina is crazy high due to all the traveling so she's up and ready to go and might not realize that the only reason she feels fine is because she has unlimited stamina. You just need to gently remind her that you aren't built like that though and then she'll make sure you're always taken care of afterwards.

Inns aren't the most comfortable place but it's what you two have to work with, although sometimes you don't even have that so forgive her if sometimes aftercare is her wrapping you in blankets in a tent and making you some stew. Other times you're be staying at the home of a local nobility and she'll even call for the maids to come take care of both of you, normally she would be jealous of people seeing you like that but she thinks of it as a romantic little spa date.

♡ B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ♡

Her shoulders, they're very broad. When she was younger it was something she didn't like but after meeting her darling, she really appreciates having broad shoulders and having her arms engulf her darling so easily. It makes it easier to toss you over her shoulders too if she's in a really spicy mood although it's a rarer occurrence since she's kind of a switch.

She's a leg kind of gal. Doesn't matter what kind of legs you got, she loves them. She'd probably never say it to your face since it would be far too embarrassing, even after you two have been together awhile, but she loves giving piggyback rides just so she can squeeze your legs without seeming like a weirdo. She doesn't give neck hickies(liar, she still does just maybe like one or two), she gives thigh hickies.

♡ C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ♡

Type of delusional to put on a strap and beg you to let her put a baby in you. Honestly the only one of my yanderes who I could picture wanting a baby with her darling and having a breeding kink and she is one of the ones who would not be able to naturally put a baby in you unless it was omegaverse. Although I could totally picture her finding some weird magic so she can temporarily impregnate you, even if you also can't naturally get pregnant, where there's a will there's a way and if you agreed, she'd fucking find a way to knock you up. It literally does not matter what the two of you are naturally capable of, she will make it happen if you allow it. It's also one of the few times she'll get more dominant.

Otherwise if breeding is off the table, she doesn't particularly care much as long as it happens. She's not one of the yandere who likes to go for multiple rounds or do overstimulation since you two have to travel a lot and she's mostly satisfied with a clean and easy quickie.

♡ D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ♡

Panty sniffer. Did it once just cause you left them on the floor, sort of liked it and just does it sometimes. Not even in a gross sexual way, she just enjoys the way you smell so if you're out of the room, she might smell them but she'd not using them to get off or anything like that. She also is always fighting back the urge to cry tears of joy during sex, you'll never notice she might cry unless you know what to look for though since she does a pretty good job of not letting you know, especially once y'all are actually together, she wouldn't want to embarrass herself in front of you.

♡ E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ♡

In theory she has experience but in reality she was attending an all girls catholic boarding school before she fell into the kingdom so while she knew things based on what other people told her, she has never put any of it into practice. She knew what things were like sex toys since they told each other everything in the dorms but it's only technical theory. She's pretty smart so she can put things together which is how she manages to figure out how to produce sex toys since she knew a little bit about how they functioned despite never seeing them but again nothing is put into practice. She's kissed a few people but nothing beyond that.

♡ F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) ♡

Whichever one keeps you from hurting since most of the time you're on the ground. One of her favorites when she has the choice is laying directly on top of you from behind especially when your legs and arms buckle from doggy style. She's not especially picky since most of the time she keeps you on top so that way you don't get hurt on the hard ground.

♡ G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) ♡

Very not goofy, she's about to start crying tears of joy, even a quickie is the most serious, romantic moment to her. There's really just no goofing off with her. She might tease and taunt you at the beginning of the relationship before she shows her vulnerable side but the very moment you give your body to her, it's an extremely tender moment. She could literally be teasing you but the moment you even kiss her, she's hooked, she might try to keep being snarky but she's also pretty delusional and automatically sees this as you two being in love and therefore she can't bring herself to joke anymore.

♡ H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ♡

I have a deep love of hairy women, I think she has a happy trail, why? Idk, cause I want her to, enough said. It's very well groomed and trimmed though but it's there. Do with that knowledge as you will.

♡ I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) ♡

The setting will not be the most romantic but she's going to be cooing in your ear the whole time. Luckily you're not paying attention to what she's actually saying or it would be concerning instead of romantic. She says the most concerning things in such a soft, romantic tone. She'll literally be like "I'm going to rip their throats out for you, would you like that my love? I just want to make you so happy. I promise I'll make you the happiest you can be, baby." You only hear the second part and don't hear the threats to the mercenaries that were rude earlier that evening. Might want to just tune her out during sex cause she might say some crazy shit.

♡ J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) ♡

Almost never, all her energy has been put into being the adventurer since she fell into this world. She doesn't even think about it much before her darling. After meeting her darling she'll take time sometimes to do it but it's not going to be all the time and then once you're together she prefers to just seek you out for it instead since doing it with you is much better.

♡ K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) ♡

I've said this multiple times but sex toys. She has a lot of funding from her travels and knowledge of new age technology so she can basically just make whatever, she's a STEM girly, she make ones that literally make you pass out and wake up feeling like you've met the gods.

There's also her massive breeding kink, she will find a way to produce her own sperm if that's what it takes, then she will stuff it inside a custom made dildo. Obviously she won't do this if you don't want children but at least let her put something in the custom dildo so she can have the experience of pretending she's breeding you. It's rather impractical since it greatly increases clean up time but she doesn't care, she will put off slaying monsters for this, she will allow villages to burn just because she wanted to do this instead.

♡ L = Location (favorite places to do the do) ♡

Anywhere as long as people aren't directly looking at you, she's not an exhibitionist but she will finger you in the dark corner booth of a tavern, but if anyone's eyes dart over to you both, they are going to lose them so eventually you force her to stop doing this. After that it's mostly up against trees in the forest, sometimes in a slow moving river, or in an inn the two of you are protecting currently.

♡ M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) ♡

Highly scent motivated, if you smell strongly it will get her going. If you've been sweating alot from traveling with her then she'll want it, and if you've just washed yourself and smell sweet then it'll get her motivated too. She loves both the nice floral scents(couldn't be me, lol, I'm allergic to most flowers) that you have when you've freshly washed and she enjoys when you're at your most primal. She's also heavily motivated by battle because she's crazy she loves protecting you.

♡ N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) ♡

Let people look at you when you're vulnerable, she doesn't mind if you two are loud and everyone hears everything but she won't let people see. She's also very much not a sharer, I can't see her getting along with another yandere, because of her delusions I imagine she would think they are coercing you even if you're clearly enjoying yourself with them, she will fuck you on their corpse after though so enjoy that.

♡ O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) ♡

Mostly a giver since she likes smelling you(eww, please stop) but she's okay receiving too. She's not much of a 69er, it's just awkward in the forest, she won't sit on your face no matter how hard you beg, so if you want it, you'll have to force her to sit down, then she will actually start to cry. She's a hypocrite though cause while she won't sit on your face for fear of hurting you, she'll get angry if you won't sit on hers. Like legitimately angry that you are hovering above her face.

In terms of skill, she's good at figuring it out, she's very adaptable, you don't even need to really guide her, she's driven by instinct alone on this one. Like she was born to eat pussy even though she's awkward with everything else.

♡ P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) ♡

Fast and soft, the only hard part will be the ground since you're doing it in a lot of harsher environments. Don't tell her that the ground was rough though unless you want her to go so slow the next few times that you're almost unable to cum.

♡ Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) ♡

Almost everything you do is a quickie except for the few times you're able to rest at an inn or the house of a local noble. Even then it's a lot more rushed than some of the other yanderes would be, considering you're rushing to do it so you can get cleaned up and enjoy the amenities at the house before you have to rush out again. She doesn't view quickies as any less, everything you do is love be it sex or just walking around with her so she's not going to be too upset since in the end she's still getting to love on you.

♡ R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) ♡

She's down for a lot of things, just tell her exactly what it is that you want to do with her and she'll do it. As long as it doesn't involve majorly hurting you or allowing others to see you, she'll give it a try once, at least for you.

♡ S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) ♡

If you had unlimited time for these things then she could go for basically forever, you'd look like your soul was ripped out of your body by the end meanwhile she's lightly panting from a good workout. There is a reason she was pulled into this world as the chosen adventurer, she can go forever so you better count your blessings that she doesn't have time to do that.

♡ T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) ♡

Duh, next question. No but seriously in the kingdom she's known for being an adventurer and once she has her darling, she is known as the one who mass produces all the sex toys. Nobles often forget that she's a dragon slayer since they know her because she invented the bullet vibe they've been using on their own darling.

♡ U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) ♡

Not at all, it seems strange before you get to know her since when you first met she was constantly teasing you and acting like she never took anything seriously. She'd constantly invite you to spend the night with her but the moment you oblige, all that teasing energy evaporates.

♡ V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) ♡

She's very quiet, the only sounds coming out of her are sweet threats towards anyone who bothered you recently or just have a bad vibe in general. She's speaking quicker than she's ever spoken in her life and that's saying something because she was the best liar at catholic school.

♡ W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) ♡

Sprained your ankle fucking you once and never did that position ever again no matter how much you reassured her that it wasn't the positions fault, you were just tired and put a bit too much weight on the foot when you shouldn't have.

♡ X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ♡

Tiny boobs. I don't know why but my mind is telling me that there is no way Elisha has anything about an A cup. They are very soft which is also surprising to learn because she's very muscular. Her legs are the most muscular part of her but she does have a pretty muscular body everywhere else too.

♡ Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) ♡

It's decent, she likes it regularly but it mostly satisfied after one or two rounds, as long as she feels you've had her love proven to you then she'll stop, her yearning gets higher if you're pulling away and she feels she needs to love on you harder though.

♡ Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) ♡

Does she even sleep? I mean she is always hunting a dragon or some other stupid monster so she's rarely ever getting time to sleep. She might sleep once a week but occasionally you can coax her into a long long session which might make her relax enough to fall asleep but you'll have to try really hard if you want her to fall asleep with you afterwards.

[frillyfacefins]

Ozzie's Toy (Ozzie/Fizzarolli)

Fandom: Helluva Boss Rating: Explicit Pairing: Asmodeus/Fizzarolli Tags: Amputation Kink, human fleshlight, more like imp fleshlight but you get my drift, Kind of Body Horror, fizz has some major ptsd about the whole amputation business, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Power Imbalance, ozzie's bodily fluids have mildly magical properties, this is set early in their relationship, kinda dark bc they're not really communicating here, Fizz thinks he has to do whatever Ozzie wants so Ozzie will keep him Word Count: 4,809

Also on AO3

Summary:

„You‘re being so good for me, Fizzy.“ Ozzie braces himself on his elbows above Fizzarolli, bracketing his entire body with his arms. Fizz is so small like this - half his usual size when his legs aren‘t extended. „I‘m going to blow your fucking mind tonight…“ Fizzarolli tries to grin; he‘s pretty sure it works. „You better, cupcake… I‘m not doing this kinky shit just so you can get an eye full…“ Ozzie‘s eyes crinkle, and oh, that feels better. He just has to lean into it. „So what else is on the menu tonight, beside 100% pure imp meat with no additives?“ He wriggles his stumps a little in a mockery of seductive writhing and bats his lashes at Ozzie. *~*~* Fizz always takes what Ozzie gives him. And if that's an order to take off his limbs for the night? Well, he's not going to say no, is he?

Author's Note:

This originally had a happier ending, but then I wrote the tags of this fic and realized that... Nah. Needs to be nastier. I mean, listen, this is smut between a weird jester demon and the literal embodiment of the sin of Lust, written by me, what did you expect?

(Or, as my friend said: "Don't be afraid to go meaner.")

Fizzarolli is done for the night. The house band is playing the last guests out and the bouncers are going through the restrooms to find whatever stragglers are either fucking or passed out in there. He still feels sweaty and amped up when he comes into Ozzie‘s office and hops onto his desk.

„All good?“ Ozzie asks while he carefully puts some fishy-smelling papers into a pink file folder and then into the out-tray for paperwork that needs to get to other rings. Fizz feels weird at the thought that he now knows the meaning of every one of Ozzie‘s color-coded document trays. The things he does for the best lay in hell…

„All good. Ya might rethink hiring acts from Sloth, though. That Horse-bitch was an hour late, so we had to juggle the schedule…“

Ozzie reaches for Fizz and rubs one large finger over his head. „That‘s why the other acts were from Lust, Fizzy. She‘s a favorite of Belphy‘s, so I figured she was good, but if you don‘t like her we don‘t have to have her back. Not like she‘ll care.“

Fizzerolli shrugs. „She wasn‘t that bad. Next time we should schedule her first instead of third, though, so she might actually show before midnight…“

„Hmm,“ Ozzie hums and swivels around to pull one of the many file drawers open. He pulls out the file with the demoness‘s name on it, makes a note on a pink post-it, and adds it.

„Why the fuck are you still using paper,“ Fizz grouses, not for the first time. „You know computers have been invented, right?“

„Fizzy darling, I know enough about robotics and all that shit to know that I do not want a machine to have all of my documentation,“ Ozzie says patiently as he puts the file away again.

Fizzarolli‘s robotic joints whir as he crosses his legs and leans back until he is lying on the desk and looking at Ozzie upside-down. „But it would give you more time to spend with me, Ozzie…“ he whines.

Ozzie chuckles and teasingly pulls on one of Fizz‘s hat tails. „Aw, are you jealous of my paperwork, Fizzipop?“ At least he is putting away his fancy ass fountain pen now, and Fizzarolli immediately begins to wag his tail - the one attached to his butt, not the hat one.

„Of course I‘m jealous. I‘m jealous of everything you spend time on that isn‘t me,“ he says with a broad grin.

„Aw, poor Fizzy“ the larger demon purrs, standing up and plucking his favorite little jester off his desk. „I guess I‘ll have to make it up to you that I‘ve spent so much time today on these acquisition forms, hm…“

Fizz‘s grin grows wider as he goes boneless in Ozzie‘s hand instead of jumping on his shoulder, so he has to carry him. „Yep, you have to, Ozzie,“ he says on a cackle.

Ozzie lets out a little huff of blue smoke, then he opens a portal to his palace and steps right through. The portal opens right into their bedroom instead of the kitchen where they would usually have a snack after work. That‘s just fine with Fizz, though - he is definitely hungry for something different than pizza rolls, and by the looks of him, so is Ozzie.

The portal closes noiselessly, and Ozzie puts his top hat onto its hat stand and starts to undo his vest.

„Clothes off, Fizzy, and then move your cute little ass onto the bed.“

His anticipation is making Fizzarolli vibrate so much that the bells on his outfit are jingling. He quickly undoes his ruffled collar, throwing it to the side in a cacophony of bells before he slips off the cuffs on his wrists and his high heels. He wriggles out of his shirt and pants while he‘s on his way onto the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind in his eagerness to finally get Ozzie‘s undivided attention.

„Hat too, Fizzy.“

That request makes Fizzarolli go still. There is only gentle amusement in Ozzie‘s voice, as if he‘s asking him to not drag dirt onto the carpets when what he is actually asking him is to take off his armor, to put his most vulnerable parts on display. If Ozzie was just going to fuck him even more silly than he already was, he wouldn‘t ask something like that from him.

His anticipation settles into dread. There is no place for shame in the Lust ring, but he still feels confused and vaguely guilty.

„Did I do something wrong, Ozzie?“ he asks in a small voice.

Ozzie, now only clad in his half-unbuttoned pink shirt and his thigh-high boots, turns around to look at him. His face softens when he sees the insecure look on his little favorite‘s face.

„No, baby, don‘t worry.“ He is at the bed with one step, and Fizz has to adjust his balance when he sits down and makes the mattress quake. Ozzie reaches over to him and pets his head again, gently rubbing his fingers down to his shoulder blades. „There‘s something I wanted to try for a while, but I need you completely open and vulnerable for that. If you‘re not up for intense stuff, we don‘t have to do it, though.“

Fizzarolli frowns, then he shoots out his arms and propels himself up to Ozzie‘s shoulder. Ozzie‘s hand immediately comes up to rub his back again while Fizz rubs his face into his light-blue fluff. The disembodied bull-face snuggles up to him in turn. „Nah, let‘s do it. You just caught me off guard, is all.“

The thought of taking off his hat makes him nauseous, but in the end, it‘s no big deal, right? Ozzie has seen him without it before; he doesn‘t ever seem to be disgusted by the state of him. If Ozzie wants him that way - if he wants to see him like that - then Fizzarolli will do what he wants, like he always does.

Fizz has always been proud that he can keep up with Ozzie most of the time; that he can find pleasure in the weirdest kinks, that he can be presented with a sexual preference or a new kind of play and immediately understand what about it is hot enough to tempt the Embodiment of Lust.

He doesn‘t want to be a party-pooper, ever. Ozzie is the best thing that ever happened to him, and even when he asks him to do things like this for him - things that make him tingle in a less than pleasant way, things that make him feel small and helpless - he wants to make him happy.

Ozzie turns his main face towards him and gives his forehead a little peck. „Alright, baby. Do you want me to take it off for you?“

Fizzarolli takes a deep breath and concentrates on the feeling of Ozzie‘s fluff against his cheek. „Yes, please,“ he says in a soft voice and closes his eyes.

He feels the bull-face rub against him again, causing a weird, slightly electrical tingling to run from his cheek down into his tense shoulders. He feels Ozzie tug at his hat tail again, but this time he tugs until it slides off his head. His head feels immediately cold. Usually he doesn‘t even take the hat off to sleep. He can feel the air against the top of his nubs, where the vestiges of his cornual nerves still give the broken remnants of his horns some feeling, though it always feels like carefully prodding an open wound - not really painful, but also definitely not pleasurable.

Ozzie gives him a little rub between his horns, where touches still feel good, and where Ozzie rarely gets to touch him. His hat is carefully put aside with a tiny jingle, then Ozzie scoops him off his shoulder and holds him with both hands in the air while he gives him a slow, sweet kiss. He‘s being so gentle with him that Fizz heart aches in that way that feels nearly like a panic attack.

He puts him down with his head on his gigantic pillows and throws off his shirt, so they both are finally naked. Fizzarolli shivers with delight at the way Ozzie is bending over him, filling his entire field of vision with his dark blue immensity, Fizz‘s very own night sky, with Ozzie‘s smiling eyes two beautiful moons surrounded by pale blue fog, his colorful rooster tail an aurora in the periphery of his view.

Ozzie kisses the mark on his forehead, then his lips. He lingers there for a moment, and Fizzarolli opens his mouth to get a taste of his favorite drug. Ozzie indulges him, licking into his mouth, making his body buzz with his saliva. Fizzarolli know‘s it‘s not addictive - that it only has very weak aphrodisic properties, not comparable to Ozzie‘s precum or slick, but it just gives him enough, just makes him feel warm and loose and tingly, and he just can‘t imagine ever living without.

Maybe because just imagining that would send him down a spiral he wouldn‘t be able to pull himself out of.

„You taste like appletinis, Fizzy baby,“ Ozzie whispers against his face, then he moves farther down and kisses both of his nipples. Fizzarolli is shivering now, sighing and mewling with pleasure. He is still so sensitive when it comes to Ozzie… Even the way he kisses his stomach makes his cock jerk with need.

Ozzie indulges him, laving his broad tongue over Fizzarolli‘s cock and balls before he lets it slip down over his taint for just a second.

He pulls away before Fizz can really start enjoying himself. He sits back on his haunches and looks at his little imp as if he was an especially appetizing piece of sushi. He even licks his lips. Fizz feels himself heat up under that look. It‘s a little like the rush he gets when he‘s on stage, but deeper, more dangerous and maybe even more real. He doesn‘t need to put up an act, doesn’t need to be funny or clever or energetic. He has always loved being looked at - craves it more than anything else. But nobody has ever looked at him quite like Asmodeus does.

Being desired by the Lord of all Desires… It‘s no wonder he feels dizzy.

„Take off your arms and legs, Fizzy,“ Ozzie rumbles above him, and Fizzarolli feels like his heart stops.

„…What?“

Ozzie‘s face changes in the way it would if he had eyebrows and raised one. „You heard me, Fizzy…“ His voice is like hot cocoa spiked with whiskey as he trails a finger down Fizzarolli‘s breastbone to his belly button. „Take them off. I want you soft and helpless for me, baby. None of the whirly parts.“

When Fizz still hesitates, Ozzie kisses him again and gives his lower lip a nibble. Fizzarolli doesn‘t know if it‘s supposed to be a warning or a comfort.

„Just think of it as reverse bondage, darling,“ he whispers when he pulls away again.

Reverse bondage. Sure. He can do that for Ozzie. He can let go of his arms and legs for the demon who freed him from Mammon, who looked at him and saw through his costume and his act and still wanted what he saw. He can give himself up to him for a night. Right?

He ignores the way his heart beats against his stomach and swallows down the dread and the acid. He takes off his legs first. Pushing the pressure points of the complex release mechanism feels unnatural, wrong, not unlike pushing your fingers into an open wound when you’re hopped up on so many drugs you can no longer feel pain. He does the same with his left arm, but Ozzie has to help with the right one. Fizz can extend it far enough that his hand can reach his upper arm, but the angle isn’t quite right and he can’t get a proper grip on the mechanism. Ozzie has been talking about using advanced cybernetics to bond the limbs to his body - Fizzarolli isn’t sure how exactly that would work, just that they would need to heighten the nerve control he uses to move his limbs, and that would mean Ozzie would have to fuck around with his spine, put a chip in there or something.

Fizz isn’t ready to let him do that. So for now, the attachments remain mechanic.

Ozzie kisses him deeply while he picks up his prosthetics. Fizzarolli watches him move to the side of the bed and carefully set down the bundle of metal limbs on the plush carpet.

„You‘re being so good for me, Fizzy.“ Ozzie braces himself on his elbows above Fizzarolli, bracketing his entire body with his arms. Fizz is so small like this - half his usual size when his legs aren‘t extended. „I‘m going to blow your fucking mind tonight…“

Fizzarolli tries to grin; he‘s pretty sure it works. „You better, cupcake… I‘m not doing this kinky shit just so you can get an eye full…“

Ozzie‘s eyes crinkle, and oh, that feels better. He just has to lean into it.

„So what else is on the menu tonight, beside 100% pure imp meat with no additives?“ He wriggles his stumps a little in a mockery of seductive writhing and bats his lashes at Ozzie.

Ozzie lowers himself over Fizz until he can feel his fluffy feathers tickle his naked belly. „Well, you see, my little darling…“ He kisses his cheeks, his forehead, his horn stumps and then back down. „For dessert, I was thinking about stuffing my favorite little jester like an eclair, pump you full until the cream‘s coming out on both ends…“

Fizzarolli lets out a deep purr. „Hmmm, I can definitely get behind that idea…“ He strains up to catch Ozzie‘s lip in a cheeky little nip. Ozzie growls at him, then he kisses him hard, and Fizz can‘t help it that his purring becomes so loud that it‘s shaking all that is left of his body. It‘s instinct that he tries to embrace Ozzie; he can only push his stumps against Ozzie‘s feathers, of course, but at least his tail can still reach the back of Ozzie‘s head and try to push him closer.

It‘s difficult to stop thinking and sink into lust when his body isn‘t working like it normally does.

But this is how Ozzie wants him tonight, and he makes that clear when he pushes his hands under Fizzarolli‘s body, one under his shoulders, the other under his butt, so he can lift all of him when he sits up. He lifts him to his mouth and licks a broad strip from his balls up to his chest, the way you do with a cigarette paper before you roll it.

„Mm…“ he goes, taking another lick of his chest. „Delicious…“

It‘s a good thing that Fizz doesn‘t have issues with heights. It‘s not unlike trapeze, being handled like this. With no way to catch himself if he falls, he has to to completely trust Ozzie as he moves him around like a rag doll. Ozzie keeps licking and kissing and nibbling his skin, giving his stumps as much attention as his chest and his belly before he flips him around and holds him slightly head-down while he works his tongue between his ass cheeks. In this position, Fizz can at least do more with his prehensile tail than just rub over Ozzie‘s feathers. He pushes the tip of his tail into Ozzie‘s neck fluff and grabs a bushel of it as well as he can, just to regain the tiniest bit of control as Ozzie makes a meal of his hole.

It doesn‘t take long until Fizzarolli is sweating and cursing and shivering in Ozzie‘s hands, desperately trying to pull him closer with his tail but just ending up tugging at him helplessly. Ozzie is so fucking good at this - no wonder with him having an actual sixth sense for other people‘s lust and desires. His tongue is literal magic, reaching deeper inside of Fizz than it has any right to, and when he pulls it out and flicks it through his crack he even hits that spot right under his tail perfectly.

The hot, wet tongue swipes down again, but this time it moves down his taint and over his balls, before it wraps around his cock in a way that makes Fizz see stars. The wave of pleasure coming off him has to hit Ozzie right in the face, because he can hear the demon king behind him moan deep in his throat.

Ozzie gives his crotch a last long lick, pushing it against his belly, and then he pulls back and flips Fizz around again. Ozzie‘s face splits in a satisfied grin.

„Such a lovely meal,“ he rumbles. He has to put him down for the next part; even with their size difference, Ozzie can‘t comfortably hold him up in the kind of position he needs him in when he starts fingering him open. Ozzie‘s finger is already magically slick when he pushes it into Fizzarolli‘s spit-wet hole. His sex magic isn‘t functionally different from the Concubi, though like everything about Ozzie it is more intense, more potent. While his spit works like a mix of alcohol and pheromones, and his slick and precum prolong and intensify his partners‘ orgasms, the lube he conjures up to cover his fingers immediately makes Fizz‘s hole relax. Sometimes he wonders if it makes him more sensitive, but there‘s no real way to answer that. Sex with Ozzie is like nothing else, even when they use toys instead of Ozzie‘s body. There are so many reasons for that, of course - starting with Fizz‘ limited experience, which is nearly completely comprised of partners who weren‘t very experienced themselves or of partners who didn‘t care about Fizz‘s pleasure. Of course he got his mind blown when he‘d been swept off his feet by the King of the Lust Ring himself, the embodiment of that very sin, whose very being combines everything debauched and indulgent and pleasurable.

When his finger pulls out, Fizzarolli immediately feels empty. He doesn‘t really need preparation, since a) they only had sex yesterday and b) nothing physical could ever prepare him for Ozzie‘s sheer size, so there is magic involved anyway, but Ozzie loves to touch every part of him, to mark and claim every nook and cranny of his little jester.

At some point, Fizz must have closed his eyes, because when he opens them he sees that Ozzie is staring down at him. He can feel those glowing eyes travel over his body, over his sweaty face, the mottled red and white of his skin, his flicking tail and his shivering stumps. He drinks in the sight of his slender, dripping cock lying against his belly, a soft sigh coming out on a wave of blue smoke as he rubs his thumb over what is left of Fizzarolli‘s inner thigh.

Something about that look on Ozzie‘s face is too much for Fizz, so he does the only thing he knows to do when he needs to get out of any kind of situation.

„What‘s the hold-up, Big O? Don‘t tell me you‘re out of juice already?“ He pushes his hips up, wiggling his ass and wrapping his tail around Ozzie‘s wrist. „Don‘t leave me hanging here…“

Ozzie makes a chastising clucking noise and pushes the tip of his thumb against the rim of Fizz‘ wet, sensitive hole. „So impatient, baby… Be a doll and let Daddy enjoy the view for a bit.“

„Can‘t do much more than be a doll here anyway,“ Fizzarolli complains, wiggling his limbless body some more. „Or maybe more of a sausage than a doll…“

„Oh, I know exactly what you are, Fizzy baby…“ Finally Ozzie lifts him up again, and his grin makes something in his belly do cartwheels. „I think I just had an idea for some new merchandise…“ He shifts him into one hand for a moment to line up his cock with Fizz‘s achingly empty hole. He pushes until his cockhead slides in, then he grasps Fizz‘s trembling body in both hands and slowly, slowly pulls him down his length. „How much, do you think, would people pay for an authentic fleshlight replica of that lovely hole, complete with a little wise-cracking robo-fizz head? Kinda like one of those talking dolls, just pre-recorded voice lines and those nut-wrenching noises you make when you really enjoy the dicking you‘re getting…“

Just then Ozzie bottoms out, and Fizz is spasming around his cock, garbling out something that might have been a moan or a cry of pain as his brain is getting overloaded with pleasure.

„That‘s exactly what I‘m talking about,“ Ozzie says on a low rumble that‘s more from his throat than his belly, more of a bird coo than an imp‘s purring, but that still makes Fizz feel warm and fuzzy in a different way than the bone-melting heat wrecking his body as Ozzie slowly drags him back and forth on his cock. It��s a real mind-fuck to imagine how he looks right now, but because Fizz‘s mind has always been fucked, he can‘t help but think about how Ozzie is literally using him like a fleshlight, how his body is nothing but a flesh cylinder for Ozzie to jack off with. He doesn‘t know if he‘s horrified or exhilarated at the thought. These days, he often can‘t tell those two things apart.

It feels so fucking good, though. Sex with Ozzie is always incredible, obviously, but just the fact that he doesn‘t have to think about what to do with his limbs, that he can‘t control anything but the tightness of his core and his swishing tail… He doesn‘t have to do anything - he can‘t do anything. He just has to exist in his body and take whatever Ozzie decides to give him.

And what Ozzie is giving him is incredibly good dick.

He is still moving him like a fleshlight, but while his motions earlier were slow and drawn-out, luxuriating in the tight heat of his body, now his motions are becoming faster. His hands are squeezing Fizz‘s body more as he jerks himself off with it, the eyes of all three of his heads are closed, his pumping becoming more and more erratic.

It‘s a wonder that Fizz hasn‘t already come, but he can feel that he‘s not going to last much longer. He closes his eyes as well and just sinks into the feeling, until he is nothing more but flesh singing with pleasure, both feeding Ozzie with his lust and getting him off with his body. He draws in a sharp breath as everything starts coming to a head, and all of his muscles contract, the remnants of his arms and legs cramping because he can‘t hold on to anything. Ozzie pulls him off nearly all the way, and then pulls him onto his cock again so hard that it pushes the breath straight out of Fizzarolli‘s lungs. He lets out a strangled cry as he comes all over the both of them, his body shaking violently as Ozzie fucks burst after burst out of him. At some point Ozzie has started to come too, and his cum is making Fizz’s body even more sensitive. Fizz can feel the way his climax comes back in full force after his cock spurts the second time, and he whimpers and whines and eventually screams with whatever strength he has left as he just keeps coming, his body completely in thrall to Ozzie‘s sublime nature.

When Ozzie finally stops moving, Fizzarolli feels like a wrung-out dishrag. He is soaked with sweat and his own jizz, the cramps have left his muscles throbbing and sore, and his ass feels as if he just fucking gave birth or something. Ozzie pulls his cock out of him, and a wave of hot, magic cum follows in its wake, dripping down along his tail in that way that always makes him feel like he needs to shake himself like a wet dog. Too bad he doesn‘t have the energy to do anything about that right now.

He shouldn‘t have been worried, though. Ozzie takes his after-care pretty seriously. He‘s still got Fizz in both of his hands, and now he starts to lick him clean from his chest down to his tail. The goat and the bull head are helping, though they are more tickling and nibbling than really cleaning him up properly. Of course Ozzie spends the most time at his hole, soothing his stretched-out rim with long, deep licks and gentle sucking before he finally licks the last remains of his cum off Fizz‘s tail. When he pulls away, Fizz strokes the tip of his tail over Ozzie‘s cheek and gets a little kiss on it in exchange.

When Ozzie finally puts him down, Fizz feels like he‘s about to fall asleep. He still feels sticky and sweaty, but his body has been so thoroughly used and his orgasm has hit him so hard that even keeping his eyes open feels like too much when the bed beneath him is so soft and Ozzie‘s body hovering over him, gently kissing his face, is so warm. He knows he should go have a shower, but even while he hears Ozzie suggest as much, his eyes fall shut and he sinks into comfortable, dreamless darkness.

When he wakes up hours later, his limbs are on his body again, and Ozzie is sleeping peacefully next to him.

Fizzarolli carefully disentangles himself from Ozzie and the blanket he has pulled over his body and grabs his cap from the side of the bed. He holds the bells still so they don’t make a sound as he walks out of the bedroom and through the hallway to the big bathroom. He could have used the ensuite, of course, but he needs some more walls between him and Ozzie - some more doors.

He puts his hat down on the counter and turns the hot water on in the shower. It takes him a moment to work the handle. His hands feel weird, like a computer that got rebooted and is now trying to deal with security upgrades.

His hips hurt. He knows it’s likely because of how strenuous the sex was, but he feels like they hurt from standing. Like something is wrong with the attachments of his legs. Like just being out of them for a few hours was enough to warp them, to make them incompatible with his body.

His arms feel so heavy, and his head feels so light.

He feels like he’s been put back together wrong.

It’s bullshit, of course. His arms and legs work as well as they always do, and the fit is also good. Ozzie designed these things, for fuck’s sake, he wouldn’t put them on wrong.

He steps into the steaming shower and closes the glass door behind him. For a while, he just stands there and lets the hot water wash away his sweat and anything that remains from Ozzie’s tongue bath. He’s used to water on his horns - he can’t really wear the hat in the shower, after all - but he wonders how it would feel on his stumps. He’s tempted to take off his legs again, to just sit on the shower floor, maybe until he drowns.

He’s being stupid. A stupid little bitch who gets hung up on harmless bullshit like this.

If Ozzie wants to have him that way, Fizz will give that to him, because Fizz is the luckiest motherfucker in hell because Ozzie wants him. Not just for a fling or a week or as a side piece or anything - he is living with him. They’re brushing their teeth at the same fucking sink. How could Fizz refuse Ozzie anything he wants?

He can’t. It’s that simple.

He belongs to Ozzie. Everything he has, everything he is - Ozzie gave him that. His job at the club, the robots, his limbs…

Of course Ozzie can fuck him however he wants.

It’s fine. He’s just being stupid. It’s just sex. He didn’t take his limbs away to humiliate him or to punish him. It’s fine.

He’s just being stupid.

He turns the water off and gets out, dries off as quickly as he can and puts his hat on. The bells jingle gently when he comes back into the bedroom and climbs into bed.

Ozzie wakes up just enough to reach out for him and pull him into a hug.

“Did you go wash up, baby?” he mumbles, still half-asleep.

“Yeah,” Fizz says, and rubs his face into his blue fluff. “Go back to sleep, Ozzie…”

[queer-and-nd-coded]

dream a little dream of me/oh, darling, i dream of you every night - fictober 2023

Day 3 - #10 "It's alright, I'm here now" Good Omens fanfiction - Crowley/Aziraphale + Crowley & Muriel Teen and Up Audiences Mentions of nightmares Read at ao3

Summary: Ever since Aziraphale left, Crowley has nightmares every time he tries to sleep. They only stop when Aziraphale comes back.

It is a clear assumption that sleeping comes with dreaming. Such a fundamental law of nature applied to all beings, even demons such as Crowley. He didn’t know what they served for, though, the damned things. Design of the subconscious mind was not his department at the time, not even close. And trying to figure out their purpose or meaning on his own was much like trying to put together a black and white puzzle. Completely useless. So, in the end, he just gave up and tried to accept that every now and then, he’d dream.

The dreams weren’t the biggest issue, though. Sure, sometimes they got annoying and completely unreal, but that’s just how dreams were, according to conversations he had overheard.

No, the real problem was the nightmares.

As a demon who occasionally went to Hell, Crowley had seen some pretty ugly things. As a demon who had been living on Earth for the last six thousand years, he’d seen worse. Oh, so much worse.

And it didn’t matter how much he tried to repress those memories through drinking, they’d always resurface during his sleep, eventually. But still, it was manageable. Even his worse nightmares would wear off after some time. And, if he stayed awake long enough, he’d barely remember them. Another characteristic of the subconscious mind that he had no participation in, but was grateful for, regardless.

However, that whole situation took a turn when Aziraphale left.

Suddenly, his annoying and mildly disturbing nightmares became unbearable. Putting his head down no longer meant the break from life he used to get, now it only meant more torment and regret. Why it took him so long to figure out his feelings? Would things have ended up differently if he had talked first? Why, after everything Heaven had done, Aziraphale walked back willingly and didn’t even consider running away? Again?

Suddenly, a soft hand on his back pulls him away from his thoughts.

“Shhh,” he hears a soothing voice above him.

“Aziraphale?” he tries, groggy but hopeful.

“Yes, dear, I am here,” he said softly, “You were talking in your sleep again… another nightmare, I suppose?”

Crowley finally opens his eyes. The room is too dark for him to make sense of anything, but he is sure that it’s Aziraphale in bed with him. Aziraphale’s voice, Aziraphale’s smell, and Aziraphale’s hand on his back, rubbing it gently so, in a way only he could do. He also knows that it’s their bed. In their hou- no, cottage. Their cottage somewhere at South Downs. Yes, he knows all this. And knowing all that, he starts calming down. A deep breath leaves his mouth. He’s so in peace that, for a moment, he thinks he could starting crying of relief.

“It’s alright,” Aziraphale says, somehow softer now, “I am here now.”

Crowley smiles, a warmth growing on his chest. Then he opens his mouth to answer, but before he can say anything, a loud noise brings him back to reality.

“Sorry!” he hears someone say.

It’s Muriel, standing at the door, embarrassed that they couldn’t hold it before the wind slammed it shut. They are holding something but that’s the least of Crowley’s worries now.

He looks around, completely disoriented. He’s at the bookshop. Again. Back to where it all went down. Except he’s got no memory of getting there. He looks around, trying to find clues, but any booze that he brought with himself days ago has already been cleaned up by Muriel. They also provided the tartan blanket that kept him warm for the whole time he slept on Aziraphale’s chair.

It’s too much. The chair, the blanket, the books, the busy street outside… it’s all there. Except for Aziraphale, who now only existed in Crowley’s dreams. Either to remind him of everything he’d done wrong or to give him some sort of comfort, that was immediately ripped way the moment he woke up. He wondered if being at the bookshop had anything to do with it, given that every time he had slept at his flat so far, he had nothing but nightmares. To the point that he even gave up on sleeping, of all things.

Oh. That’s right. He was starting to remember it now. When he no longer could sleep, he started drinking again. Bottle after bottle after bottle… he must have let his feet wander and eventually ended up at the bookshop. That made sense.

He was about to ask Muriel if his theory was correct, right when they walked up to him, handing him something.

Coffee, apparently.

“What’s that?” he asked anyway, lamely.

“Oh! Well… Nina from across the street sent it. She said it’s not your… usual but it will be good for you.”

Crowley took it with no further questions, which seemed to please the angel . He notice d that they didn’t have anything for themself. He didn’t dwell on it, though. It wasn’t his job to tempt angels into enjoying human food. Not anymore.

Muriel went to rearrange some books, but before they were out of earshot range, Crowley said something.

“Thanks.”

They turned around to face him. And with all the inflection of a mediocre actor on a play for very young and dumb children, they bowed slightly and said, “ Noo problem!”

Crowley narrowed his eyes and drank from his cup, trying not to find that endearing. Because it wasn’t. It was pathetic. But they’d get the hang of it, eventually.

[absinthe-and-tea]

Hii, you wrote slashers and s/o with big boobs, but what about the opposite? S/o with small boobs who is insecure about that and feels less like a woman?

Btw I love your writing and your headcanons. They make my day ♥

I myself have pretty tiny boobs soooo- also I got this request twice kinda so I hope you guys dont mind me putting them into one ❤ Also super happy you like my stuff!!

P.S. I got half way through this and had to start over cause Tumblr deleted my progress 🙃

Slasher HCs || S/O W/ Small Breasts

Warnings: N//SFW

Jason Voorhees

He loves you no matter what. Honestly he loves how small they are. They easily fit in his hands, making it easier to touch all of you in a shorter amount of time.

If he sees you're down about them, he'll wrap his arms around your waist and pick you up gently. He'll then proceed to cover them in kisses.

He can't speak so he often uses his hands or mouth to praise them in other ways.

Loves running his thumb over your nipple to watch the small bud harden from his touch.

When you're intimate with him he makes sure to give them lots of attention. He prefers using his hands, loving how soft they are.

He's always loved them so he'll always continue to touch them and whatnot.

Michael Myers

He's fairly indifferent about them. He prefers was anyways.

Doesn't really compliment them or pay much attention to them the first time you two are intimate.

He doesn't notice how you feel for a while but when he finds you criticizing them though, it's fair game.

Will start coming up behind you, running his hands up your sides and to your breasts to engulf them in his large hands and gently squeeze.

He loves messing with them, that includes lightly pinching them. But he loves using his mouth on the more. Beware, he will nip and bite just hard enough to get a reaction from you.

Even after he's convinced you they are perfect, he'll continue touching them abd whatnot cause he'll have realized how much he likes them on you.

Brahms Heelshire

He's a manchild. And it shows. He definitely prefers bigger but he's alright with small breasts too.

100% has an oral fixation. Meaning he'll suck on them a lot. Whether he's partially laying on your lap or if you're on his lap stradling him, he's gonna have his mouth on them.

He'll say something about wishing they were bigger, not thinking about how it would make you feel.

If you start wearing sweaters more often or staring into mirrors longer, silently judging yourself, he'll start to take notice.

He'll start to grope them more and give them more attention while whispering how much he loves them.

He's an ass sometimes. But he loves you and your body. He'll make sure you know it too.

The Other

He's not home often and when he is, he spends a lot of time with his daughter but the moment its just you two, he's immediately walking towards you like a predator stalking it's prey.

He doesn't care about your boob size at all or if you have a nice ads. He just loves you.

When you cuddle, he'll always have a hand under your shirt. Either resting on your tummy or one of your breasts. Usually the latter.

If he sees how much you resent them, he'll show his love for them and your vidy in general by getting you lingerie.

The moment he sees you in it, you're getting thrown on the bed and getting the best night of your life.

Prepare to always be worshipped.

Vincent Sinclair

He loves them. No matter what, you are his muse. His inspiration.

He loves putting his hands on your sides and gently running his thumbs underneath them, against your ribs. Almost like he's sculpting a masterpiece.

He adores that they are small because he can pull your body even closer to his. He loves feeling all of you.

He prefers using his hands on them but he will gladly suckle on them as well. He's a bit shy though so you'll have to tell him you want it.

Absolutely hates that you feel badly about habing small boobs. So, he'll make countless sculptures, paintings, and drawings of you. He'll have so many things of just you that it feels as though he knows your body better than yourself.

Bo Sinclair

Another ass man but a nice set tits is great too. And that includes yours.

He enjoys them. How soft they are especially. His hands are very rough from doing mechanic work on the side so he enjoys the difference in softness.

If you say anything bad about them or judge them, he'll sit you on his lap and suckle them until you're writhing on top of him from sensitivity.

Not afraid to grope you in front of others or slide his hand under your shirt. Your his and he'll make that known real quick.

Loves to leave bitemarks and bruises on them to show you how much he likes them and how much he fully claims them and you.

Lester Sinclair

He likes boobs in general. Small or not. He just really likes the soft mounds.

Loves the feeling of your soft, squishy flesh under his hands and your hardened nipple brushing against his palm.

Gets super wide-eyed and excited if you wear lingerie that lets your breasts hang out. He'll sit there in awe until you get on his lap.

The moment you're on him, he's on you. Licking and nipping them softly, his hands gently groping and squeezing.

His heaven is either his head between your legs or against your breasts so expect him in either place at least once a night.

Solomon Goode

He worships every bit of you. You are his love after all and he would do anything to make you happy.

He enjoys the fact he can hold you close to his chest without large breasts in the way.

Enjoys teasing you every so often when in passing or not busy with work around the house or garden.

Seeing you topless makes his throat go dry and he begins hesitantly walking to you. You'll have to give him the okay to touch you but once you do, his mouth is attached to one of your nipples. His hand moving to rub the other.

He loves your softness and the smell of flowers that seems to surround you without your knowing. Being so close to you and tasting you is intoxicating to him.

Will always compliment them when he gets a good view. He'll never let you feel down about yourself. And if someone does something to make you feel that way, oops. Where'd they go?

Harry Warden

He's so happy anytime he can touch them. For a while though he won't take his gloves off, afraid you'll find him repulsive.

Though once he does and he feels the soft flesh for the first time, he'll never want to let go.

He loves the small mounds almost as much as he hates Valentine's Day. Between the softness of your flesh and the way your nipples harden at his touch, he's completely addicted to them.

Enjoys covering them in kisses while he praises you and compliments you. You're his precious lover after all.

Expect him to compliment them every time he sees you once he realizes you think they aren't perfect. They are gorgeous. Just like you.

Bubba Sawyer

Absolutely loves them. He couldn't even mildly dislike anything about you. You're perfect in his eyes. He'll even make you sundresses that show them off perfectly.

Though be careful when wearing said sundress because he'll get distracted by you really quick, causing him to forget about his work.

When laying in bed he'll always have a hand on one of your breasts subconsciously. Not even on purpose most times, he just wants to hold you.

Definitely another with an oral fixation. He enjoys gently playing with your hardened nipples with his tongue when in a more intimate moment.

Won't publicly do anything like groping because he's a good boy but will attempt to compliment you. You'll know what he's trying to say when he does.

Thomas Hewitt

Very handsy with you once your relationship starts to take off. Your breasts being something that fascinates him despite the size.

When you two are cuddled up in bed he will lightly run his fingertips over them to watch the goosebumps form and your nipples harden.

His favorite thing to do is grab your sides and use his thumbs to rub the little nubs. His eyes will wonder from your breasts to your face, wanting to catch the faces you make.

After a while he'll attach his mouth to one, his eyes never leaving your face. He adores how much pleasure he can give you from something so small.

His opinion when you bring up how you feel about them is "Good things come in small packages."

Eddie Gluskin

Well you already have a one up on his exes. They didn't even have anything at all. Barely even mosquito bites.

He'll run his fingertips over the mounds, lightly pressing down to see the small squish it makes.

You're his perfect bride. His Darling. So different from the whores he was with before. Your body is something else to him.

The mounds may be small but boy does he praise them and cover them in affection.

If you ask, he'd be happy to add an modifications to your wedding dress to make you feel better about them.

Though he'll need to do a lot of... Researching... To make sure he gets the measurements right.

[pinkfaery]

beach date ♡

group: txt / member: yeonjun x afab!reader / warnings: mildly suggestive (pda, drinking/mild intoxication)

The day starts out like any normal one would.

You and Yeonjun have lunch plans, and because the weather has been especially nice lately, you plan to go have brunch on the beach with him. He always tells you that there's no need to dress up for these occasions, but you like to look nice next to him. After all, his visuals are insane and he knows it.

So you put on a cute and comfortable outfit--one that allows you to wear thongs since you're sure that by the end of the date you'll be walking on the shore--and head out to meet him at the restaurant. Knowing him, you'll probably arrive there first.

As you pull up to the restaurant, you feel an excited flip in your stomach. You can see that all eyes are on you as you walk into the establishment, and for good reason--you chose to go with a pair of light wash wide-leg denim shorts, a slightly drapey white overshirt, and just your bright red one piece swimsuit underneath. You've kept your hair and makeup on the simpler side--after all a beach date should be more relaxed.

You're escorted to a nice table right near the balcony, so you have a wonderful view of the beach. You request two waters and also order two mimosas knowing full well that Yeonjun will want to drink when he arrives.

Not 5 minutes after you've received the drinks, Yeonjun arrives. You know it's him without even looking because you hear the tables around you whispering fervently about someone handsome. Before you can even turn to look, Yeonjun's hand is draped across your shoulder and he's leaning down to kiss you on the cheek.

"Sorry to make you wait, pretty."

You inhale a bit deeper to smell his rich, woody cologne and shake your head. "Not at all. You look fantastic as usual." you comment as you sip your mimosa. He's chosen to go with a classic white ringer t-shirt, with blue hems and a giant flower in the center. It gives a retro vibe to his outfit, especially when paired with his looser white jeans. You smile when you see that he has opted for black sandals, only confirming your hunch that you two will be on the beach later.

Yeonjun leans back, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. "I don't think I have the right to accept that compliment when my baby looks like this. Is that a new swimsuit? Just for me?"

You both giggle, but you can see the way his ears color as he glances at your chest for a bit too long. You think it's cute though, and gesture at his mimosa. "They're bottomless, babe. I think you've got a bit of catching up to do, hm?" you say, gesturing at your almost empty mimosa.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and takes about half of his mimosa right then. He licks his lips after setting the glass down and you try not to think about the way his lips glisten in the sunlight.

About 5 mimosas and a delicious meal later, you two are frolicking on the shore of the beach. The sun feels so good on your back after you seductively removed the overshirt in front of Yeonjun. He's barely able to keep his hands off of you, large hands roaming your body with zero abandon. He cups your ass several times and litters kisses across your neck, his silky black locks flitting over your skin softly.

You both lay down to rest under your umbrella, towel warm from the hot sand underneath. His breathing is slightly heavier on your neck, likely due to the alcohol in his system. Every now and then he warmly presses his lips into your forehead, your cheek, your shoulder--pretty much anywhere he can get to. He giggles when you squirm but his grip around your waist is firm.

"We should do this more often darling."

[cinnamonest]

//heavily gendered, fem darling mistaken for boy, genitalia as sex identifiers, that sort of deal, be warned

I'm releasing this 4 am thought bc I gotta rewrite the Diluc one so have this one that's been sitting around a while

We have discussed tomboy darling/crossdressing as a boy darling before but also consider: tomboy darling and a Razor who still has some trouble recognizing gender presentation/identifiers, even though he's pretty sure he kinda understands. He's been in Mondstadt every now and then. The girls are the ones that wear the dresses and have the... Chest lump things, if they're older. And sometimes the girls wear their hair in two parts tied up on the left and right side of their head, like Klee. The voices and faces and heights and stuff he's... Less good at telling, and the whole thing where they have different groups of names that are generally given to one sex or the other is a foreign concept he can never hope to memorize.

Tomboy darling is a very active member of the adventurer's guild. As such, you can't be running around in dresses and stuff like that, gotta have those sturdy leather boots and loose, ragged pants and the like. Maybe darling is naturally flat-chested, and if not, well the tiddy is gonna get in the way of adventuring! So you gotta restrain or tie it up with elastics and tape, the kind made for athletic purposes. Hair would get in the way too. Keep it short, or maybe tie it up or keep it under a hat. And of course you're not gonna wear any sort of makeup on the face for such a task.

But generally, most people know you're a girl right? You might look mildly androgynous like this, but Bennett and Fischl and most people can tell, you figure anyone else can too. The thought that someone might not doesn't cross your mind.

When Razor looks at you, he does what he does to most people - analyzes you. Fischl takes the route of... Less convenient clothing for adventuring for the sake of her whole persona she's got going on, so she still has the more fem look to her. He can tell with her. Pigtails, dress, her nails and her chest... And he's met some others, like Barbara that time he got hurt and Bennett insisted to take him get healing. You on the other hand, look... Kinda the same as Bennett. The same type of clothes and all. So y/n... is boy, he decides. Ok. Got it. Due to his tendency to refer to people by their first name and never third person pronouns, you never become aware of the misunderstanding.

And it manages to go on quite some time with him believing that. Until... One day Fischl is busy, Bennett is injured (again). It's just the two of you for now. A journey to go take care of one of your commissions, and he gladly tags along, after all, you're... A friend.

But he has always noticed you... Smell different. Not the same flowery smell as Fischl or Barbara, no, you smell like dirt and trees just like him and Bennett, but something else smells different, something more like the two girls. He has a sense of smell far beyond most people, you know. It seems like it comes from like... Your thighs? Or somewhere around there. It smells nice though. He likes it, whatever it is. He doesn't think much of it, lots of the humans have unique weird smells to them.

It gets stronger though, when you go to lay down for the night. It's a multiple day sort of task, so you bring a little sleeping bag to sleep under the stars. He just kinda... Curls up on the ground. And he's almost asleep, but... That smell again. But a lot stronger. And... y/n is breathing heavy? There's almost the slightest of shuffling noises, like the slightest rustle of a blanket as you move your hand underneath. The smell gets strong. It smells really good in a way he doesn't quite understand. Not like flowers, and not like food, but... Good. So he quietly kinda crawls over to where you are. You don't hear him come up, so you nearly scream when a voice right next to your ear asks you what you're doing. Do you have something under there in that blanket that's making the really good smell? Well, he has to know, and the obvious way to know is to just rip your blanket right off of you. Not knowing that you... Happened to sleep naked that night.

And he is very confused. You squeal and cover yourself up with your hands, but in that split second he could already see everything. So y/n is... Not boy? This is very confusing. He has to be sure. He's not sure why you're doing that with your hands, covering yourself up, and he's lost in thought and can't really hear what you're saying, so he just grabs your hands and pries them off your body and pins them above your head instead. Gets closer, moves to straddle your legs and get a better look. Yes, so, he was mistaken.

It's very different from himself, which fascinates him. Never seen it up close before. You have weird things all over and you're very soft. For some weird reason, it feels nice to look at, in a way he can't articulate. It's more different from himself than he realized.

And he gets a weird urge to just... Reach out and put his hands on it all. Wow, those things are soft. And the smell... Was coming from here. It's all slippery on his fingers. You squeal and squirm, but for one, it's not like anyone can hear you out here, and two, for some reason it's... Also very nice. It triggers some instinct. Like a little rabbit caught in the claws of a predator. It ignites an adrenaline, heart pounding feeling to sink his teeth into you and make you squeal more. To... Do something to you. He's not sure what yet. But he's never been very good at self restraint, so he just goes with what comes naturally.

[themonotonysyndrome]

may I ask for poly sam x darlin x quinn headcanons pls

Ooooh... NGL, Anon, this is a tough ask! I needed some time to figure it out and comb through REDACTED'S Halloween stream but it was a lot of fun coming up with the ideas!

OK, so first off, I can't see this trio happening in the Canon world so we'll be vising the Imperium universe with some sprinkle of twists. Darling is still a badass Werewolf and Tanker and David is alive due to reasons below.

Let's get to it!

Massmaker!Sam x Imperium!Darling x Massmaker!Quinn:

It'll take a hell of a coincidence and (bad)luck for these 2 Vampires to stumble across Darling and vice versa.

In the beginning, Darling often travels between Dahlia and Washington either due to personal reasons or career. So they aren't an active presence in the Shaw Pack.

Their stance on the Imperium and I.D.L.E is pretty neutral. They're not an exception to the prejudice of being a Shifter but Darling knew better to openly defy the authorities.

Sam is the first one to run into Darling. He's settled nicely within the Solaire Clan and loving his Massmaker tittle, loving the freedom that it grants him.

Now, from his video, we see that Massmaker!Sam is callous and does whatever it takes to be a free Vampire. His cruel suggestion of giving Ivan to his friend to Turn can't be forgotten too!

So I see him and Darling intercepting one another when Darling returns to Dahlia.

I also kinda see that the Shaw Pack and Solaire Clan has a tense agreement to stay out of each other way so Sam and Darling would be wary about each other at first. 

Darling is out doing their own thing or an order from David about something related to the Pack when they accidentally meet Sam.

The two did their best to steer clear from the other at first, but the more their paths crossed, Sam couldn’t help but be intrigue over Darling. To him, Darling is a walking contradictory. 

They’re painfully reserved yet fiercely protective over what little friends they have. They’re strong - enough to be a threat on their own - but content to follow David. 

While feelings begin to rouse in Sam, Quinn enters the picture. 

Like in Canon, he and Darling broke off because Darling doesn’t want to live with a heavy conscious. 

Quinn didn’t handle the rejection well. To put it very, very mildly. 

Once he gain the Massmaker title, Quinn uses the freedom to stalk Darling and whenever Darling confronts him, they fight. 

Sam quickly catch on about Quinn when he smell antiseptic and a stranger’s blood on Darling more than once. 

Using resources lend to him by Will, Sam dug around and found the nature of their relationship. 

So before they could fight again, Sam intercept Quinn to get him to back off from Darling. 

Quinn was not happy that another Vampire is trying to get with his ex. 

Oh, Quinn had a lot of fun ribbing and mocking Sam about encroaching on another’s man territory and that if Darling hates Quinn, who to say that they now hate Vampires as a whole? 

So they fight. But over time, Quinn’s manipulation and their fights constantly ends in a statement gives him the opportunity to offer a deal to a Sam. 

They both can have Darling and together, there’s nowhere for the Wolf Shifter to run. 

Sam agrees after Darling starts to stay in Washington longer and longer. 

Having two Vampiress obsess over them makes Darling one angry Werewolf. 

Sam helps balance the temper between Quinn and Darling. 

Quinn drives off any ill-meaning Vampires who wants to tear the trio apart. 

Darling can somewhat reign Sam and Quinn. Because of that, Davey lives on to be the Alpha of their Pack. 

The downside? Their relationship earns them a scrutiny from the Imperium due to the power and status they posses. 

[empress-simps]

it is i, your friendly neighborhood 'squishy cheeks' requester!! upon this gorgeous day, i have arrived to tell you how much i loved my squishy cheeks reader ask!!! it was amazing i think my heart skipped like 10 beats!!! (´ε｀ )

so with that, may i request again a scenario with gn!reader(and yuuji, megumi and gojo) who had just woken up from a bad dream and goes to ✨the boys✨ for comfort? but they just end up talking for hours and hours until it's literally morning? imagine the others walking to their dorm and hearing these two idiots talking about snail facts at 4 am lolololo sorry precious sleep but snail facts are more important‼️‼️

did you know snails can take up to 3 year naps? i'd wish to be a snail but then i wouldn't be able to read ur works and that would make me sad :(

thank u for reading and take care of urself! ♡(ӦｖӦ｡) have a nice morning/day/evening darling!!! ♥️♥️♥️

Comforting their s/o from a bad dream

▪︎Featuring: Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi and Gojo Satoru from Jujutsu Kaisen

▪︎Pronouns: They/Them [Gn! Reader]

▪︎Genre: Fluff and light crack

▪︎Warnings: NOT EDITED SO THERE WILL BE TYPOS/GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, a little angst and awesome snail facts you probably couldn't handle

Note: DANG IT THIS IS SO CUTE I- thankyou love aaack ur so sweet! I didnt know snails can take 3 year naps- time to research *cracks my knuckles* HOPE U LIKE IT! ALSO SORRY FOR THE DELAY I TOOK A SHORT BREAK FROM WRITING

》 Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

》 Main Masterlist

You woke up with a start.

Your eyes darted around the room as beads of sweat gathered on your body along with a shaky and clammy hands.

You took a few steps and that lesd you to where you are right now. Your boyfriend's room. For a second you hesitated knocking ont wooden door but your worries were pushed aside when a sleepy Yuuji opened the door.

"Yuuji.." You mumbled and hugged the sleepy boy who wrapped his arms around yours. "Do you want a snack?" He asked, still disoriented to see the state you were in. "No.." you mumbled, that's when he noticed and all evidence of him being sleepy was gone and he's now checking you for any possible injury.

"Are you hurt?"

"No.. well, not physically." YUJI IF U DONT CUDDLE THEM I'LL BEAT YOU-

Yuji pulls ypu in and shuts the door, giving ypu both some privacy from the outside world.

Three hours later and you're holding your hands in your hair as Yuuji patted ypur back.

"It's alright honey.." He mjmbled and rubbed your back.

Megumi, who was about to go for his morning run paused behind Yuuji's door, leaning a bit. He grew alarmed when he felt the room was silent and heavy, resulting in him pressing his ear against the door vowing to beat Yuuji if he did something to you.

"They can take three year naps but some of them can only live up to three years Yu! THEY'VE MISSED OUT SO MUCH!" You exclaimed, putting your hands up in despair as Yuji akwardly tried to comfort you through your crisis. Please help this poor boi he's so lost, any will do

"I'm sure they didn't-"

"HOW WOULD WE KNOW!? WE AREN'T SNAILS!" You flailed your arms around startling Yuji and Megumi who was still listening in.

"This is stupid.. can't they be a normal pair for once" He groaned, putting his earphones in while sporting a mildly dsitrubed face for the whole day.

"Gumi... Can I come in?"

You didn't even have to knock when the door swung open and hugged you tightly. The faint smell of Megumi clinging to your skin the longer time you both hug.

"Bad dream?"

"Yep."

"Cuddles??"

"Yes.. but can we talk?"

Megumi almost had a heart attack as he nods nervously, "You're not breaking up with me are you?" He worries, making you laugh. He's just there like 💧👁👄👁💧

"No, you stupid. I just wanna talk about stuff to get my head of.. you know.." you mumbled, he breathed out a sigh of relief and nuzzled his face in your neck. "Of course, my love."

And there you are, in the crack of dawn spewing animal facts to your boyfriend while laying on his lap.

"Do you now snails constantly cry?" You asked, playing with his hands as he quirked an eyebrow at you. "Really? Why?"

You shrugged your shoulder, "Dunno. Science." Resulting in him laughing and ruffling your hair.

"Are you giys into snails..?" Yuji mumbled, horrified. How he managed to enter Fushiguro's room undetected remains a mystery.

Megumi furrowed his brows, "What? No- WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? HOW DID YOU ENTER!?"He yelled while his bestfriend panics.

"I JUST WANNA ASK IF YOU HAVE RAMEN!"

Megumi clicked his tounge, "I don't have one! Get lost!"

"Well can you ask Y/n if they have ramen?"

"Nope. Sorry, I ran out.." You shrugged and apologized, making Yuji sigh in defeat and mumble dissapointedly as he leaves the room.

If anyone of you has spare ramen please donate it to him HE'S STARVING

Truth to be told, Megumi keeps a hidden stash of ramen inside his room. If it weren't for you sitting in his lap and looking adorable he would give some to Yuji.

Now this man right here just bursts into yiur room unannounced. He would just embrace you and ask what's wrong.

Its like he has a built in sensor

"Satoru...? Why are you-"

"Sh.. I'm here..." he mumbles, nuzzlingbyour neck as you just spent some time inhaling his cologne and hearing his calm and steady heartbeat that eases your worry away.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Maybe not now.." you mumbled. He hummed and nodded "I see."

Now he's gonna make it a mission to get your mind off the dream that you had with the most random thing.

Animal facts.

Ngl, you didn't know if you'd be annoyed with him or just let him ramble since you'll feel bad. He's just trying to make you feel better after all.

"Baby. Baby. Baby. Baby."

Just as about you thought he ran out of actually interesting facts he pokes you and calls your name repeatedly. Like a toddler.

You internally groaned, "I'm notgonna embarass myself again Gojo. Don't try to test my knowledge about this.

He let out a laugh, "honey, I'm not embarassing you! Now, did you know some snails have hair on their shells-"

"What?" You made a disgusted face to your lover as he laughed and tried to show you pictures. "No! I don't wanna see- Gojo Satoru!" You shriveled as he made you look, laughing at your weirded out face.

"I shouldn't have listened in..." Nanami mumbled as he walked away, clearly tired from the antics he heard from the door. "The day hasn't even started yet they're making me tired already.."

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from Grace) Jungkook x OC

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to be each other’s best fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“A two hour lunch break and a limp? You’ve been busy , I see.....” Hobi remarked mildly , when I slinked back to my desk, thighs still shaking . 

I winced when I sat down, glaring at him.

“I sprained my ankle....” I snapped, internally cringing at the ridiculous lie. 

“While riding his dick? How did that happen?? ” Hoseok rolled his eyes and before I could pretend to be properly outraged he continued, “ No matter.... i want you to compile those memos from last week and write up the report for last week’s meeting. The minutes are in the file.” 

I didn’t particularly enjoy my job or hate it. It was just something I did to make money and I was fine with that. As a kid I’d had some vague dreams of being a photographer and while I did occasionally take my camera out to click candids of my family or the occasional cherry blossom tree, it wasn’t a major component in my life. 

Or at least, it hadn’t been, for the two and half years I’d worked here. Right about the time I started sleeping with Jungkook. I stared at the screen, feeling myself drown in the redundant words. It wasn’t that I didn’t imagine a life with Jungkook.....but... I wasn’t sure if we would work well, as a couple. I had never been on a date with him , never met each other for anything that didn’t end in mutually ( enjoyable ) orgasms and just.... most of the time we did piss each other off incredibly. 

But I could feel the clock ticking....I wasn’t really a co ed anymore, was I? There was more to a relationship than just sex and ... I wanted it. Of course I did....

I couldn’t spend the rest of my life doing this with Jungkook. But I couldn’t for the life of me, imagine not  doing this with him. 

And in the wake of that thought came the thought I had always avoided.

 What if I could have both? What if I could have the dirty , raunchy , mindblowing sex , along with the Sunday brunches, picnics in the park and skinny dipping in the pool at midnight? 

What if, possibly, Jungkook could be the one I had dinner with on a Friday night? What if he was the one I woke up to everyday, made pancakes for and with, smearing flour on each other’s noses as we chased each other around the kitchen in our PJs?

 Fuck. 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook was busy for a couple of days with his training and I couldn’t get a chance to meet him . On the day before his supposed match, he told me he wanted to ‘unwind’ . Would I be kind enough to join him for the night? 

I agreed, 

My phone buzzed, just as I stepped out of the shower. I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous contact name that Jungkook had probably put in himself. 

 From Hungkook 

You have an appointment tonight m’lady. 

An appointment to ride this dick.

On my terms.

You’re gonna stay over right?

 I scoffed at the last bit., When had it ever  not  been on his terms?? I ran the towel through my hair before carefully coating my fingers with lotion and threading them through the damp strands. 

~~~~

From me,

When did you change your fucking contact name , dickhead. Yes, I’ll stay over and we’re meeting at 7.00 PM right?? Will you pick me up?

~~~~

From Kook,

 Wasn’t me.... must’ve been you subconsciously. Don’t tell me you aren’t thinking about how big I am,  all the fucking time. 

I’m still  setting stuff up. Get a cab. Or I can send my chauffeur if you want? 

~~~~

From me,

 No. I’ll drive myself over. 

~~~~

From Kook,

Wear something easy to take off. c u. 

~~~~

Jerk, I thought fondly. Staring at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly vulnerable. I wanted to talk to Jungkook about us. And I would.... eventually. When I felt ready enough.... 

For tonight, I would indulge him. .  

I had gone the extra mile today, soaked in the tub for a whole hour so my skin was completely imbibed with the  scent of strawberries and cream, with little whiffs of lavender. The body scrub had done its job and my skin fairly glowed, plump and soft. 

I decided to forego makeup, only putting on the barest minimum : some gloss and a moisturizing spray. I grabbed the short kimono style dress from the closet, slipping it on without anything underneath. 

I stared at myself from all angles, just to make sure I was still decent. Not that it would matter. Jungkook’s condo had a private elevator that no one but he used . Perks of owning the entire apartment complex , I guessed. I hesitated before rummaging through the  small jewelry box I kept hidden in the back of the closet. 

It had a small necklace, the only gift I’d ever accepted from Jungkook. I stared at the small , pendant : a small heart with the words, JK’s engraved on it. It had been a gag gift, meant to aggrieve me during one of our ridiculous spats. But i traced the words and wondered why the prospect of belonging to him didn’t feel quite as infuriating as it used to . 

Slipping it on, I quickly grabbed my wallet and keys. 

Well, time to get this show on the road. ‘

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook opened the door, freshly showered, dressed in a white linen shirt, a few sizes too big and opened half way through. As always, a glimpse of his gorgeous face was all it took for arousal to pool in the pit of my stomach. I smiled at him.

“Hi.” I grinned.

He stared at me for a second taking a deep breath.

“Jesus, you smell fucking delicious....What  is that?” He groaned, grabbing my wrist and tugging me in. I followed him to the dining space, blinking when I saw the two small glasses of wine. 

“Ooh...fancy. Looks like you’re looking to spoil someone tonight. “ I teased. 

“Yeah, just had my girlfriend over. You must’ve run into her on the way up.” He winked and I shook my head, laughing as I grabbed one, taking a small sip. 

“So....? Should we get started....”

Jungkook hummed, grabbing the satin ribbon tie that held my dress together and tugging on it gently. I kept my eyes trained on his face , just so I wouldn’t miss the look on his face when the fabric fell apart. 

He didn’t disappoint. 

Doe eyes widened in shock, lips parting in a sharp little exhale as he stared at me, completely naked in the golden spool of light, cast by the small chandelier overhead. 

“Oh fuck.....is that...?” He lightly pulled the pendant at the base of my throat, staring at the inscription.

“Thought it may turn you on....” I shrugged. Jungkook’s eyes ran up and down my body and I felt an inordinate thrill at how open he was with how much he enjoyed looking at me, even though it was far from the first time. 

“That’s my biggest weakness, darling......I’m always turned on for you...” He grinned , winking. 

“So should we go open that toy box of yours?” I prompted when he stepped closer. 

“Hmm... Not like this. “ He grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and off his torso before carefully slipping it on me. “ I can’t concentrate if you’re standing here without clothes on.” 

 The linen shirt, big on Jungkook’s broad frame , practically swallowed me up, hanging somewhere near my knee. I watched the way his pupils dilated when he stared at me.

“Fuck... you in my clothes.... This may be worse than you being naked...” He said, sounding slightly strangled. 

I flicked his forehead playfully.

“I’m beginning to think you’re just stalling.... ” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Nope, just thinking of a couple of drawings I could make with this particular shirt on you.” 

I felt my insides quiver as I remembered the art and the very enjoyable time I’d had seeing all of it. 

“If you hurry up , I may model for you. “ I said casually and Jungkook froze.

“Better not joke about that, Areum...” He said harshly.

“Well, what if I’m not?” 

“Are you?”

“Only one way to find out.” I smiled, yelping when his arms shot out, wrapping around my thighs and throwing me over his shoulder as he stalked over to the bedroom.

I whined because his shoulder blades dug into my tummy , feeling slightly dizzy from all the blood rushing to my head.

I stumbled a bit when he set me down , blinking to orient myself. I stared around at the room, my throat going dry. 

The bed was covered in satin sheets in a rich shade of burgundy . The entire room was lit only from the backlight in the bedframe, low and demure as it lit parts of the bed while the rest of room stayed plunged in darkness. An ornate table stood right next to the bed with what looked like a hundred or so sex toys and I flushed red, my face heating up. 

I felt my heart begin to pound inside me. 

It was so foreign, this desperate sort of anticipation, something I didn’t usually feel because this was Jungkook and I knew him ....knew his body better than my own. 

“Well, since you wanted to pick the toys we’d use today....”

“No.” I whispered softly.

“What?”

I turned to him , smiling before carefully walking over to the bed and climbing on. I crawled to the center before carefully sitting down on my heels, kneeling. 

“You can pick.”  I shrugged. 

Jungkook stared at me thoughtfully.

“You’re joking.” He said softly.

“I trust you.” I replied. 

His eyes widened, lips parting. He licked his lips, before tugging his lower lip between his teeth. 

“Really? You trust me?” He asked, looking incredibly skeptical.

“I do. “

“Trust that I ....?” 

“That you won’t hurt me.”

“Hmm... I’ve gone soft on you haven’t I? Haven’t left bruises on that perfect body in a while... “ He said casually and I felt my heart jerk a little. 

Earlier in our relationship, Jungkook had always skirted the edge of too much, sometimes leaving marks and bruises  that lingered for weeks after our sexcapades. And he was right...we had toned it down the past few weeks,

“Even then...You never did anything I didn’t want.” I pointed out. 

He smiled.

“That’s true... my pretty little slut, you wanted every single one of those bruises, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“I did...” 

“So , I can just go pick any toy I want and you’ll let me put it on you....?  In you?” He prompted. 

“I trust you.” I said again. 

He narrowed his eyes at me  before moving slowly to the table. I stared back, holding his gaze as I watched him carefully pick up something from the table.

My heart dropped when I saw the small flogger, his ivory fingers curling on the handle as he carefully, swatted the inside of his other palm with it.

“You sure you’re up for this?” He brought the flogger down on the bed with enough force to make the sheets crackle and the noise was so sharply frightening that I couldn’t help but jump a little.  I flinched so bad, my lips wobbled.

He watched the way I was shaking and scoffed.

“Thought so, fragile little thing like you could never--”

“Yes.” I snapped, willing myself to stay calm. “Yes.” 

Jungkook’s gaze snapped to mine. 

“Color?”

I swallowed, trying to get my senses together. I calmed myself down, trying to think rationally instead of impulsively. 

“Green.” I whispered. 

He hummed. 

I watched as he grabbed a small vibrator , holding it up for me to see., I shrugged, 

“I told you ...I trust you. Looks like you don’t trust yourself... What’s the matter, Jeon,  too chicken to be a real man?  “ I whispered.

His gaze narrowed dangerously. 

He moved briskly to the table and grabbed things quickly. I bit my lips as I saw the nipple clamps, the small whip, the handcuffs and the pinwheel among other things. 

I pulled my gaze away from the toys and stared at him. 

“If anyone can make me enjoy those things...its you.” I whispered and his eyes softened visibly.

“Fuck...don’t say shit like that....” He whispered.

I laughed a little, nodding. 

“Okay. “ I agreed. 

He grabbed a small strip of cloth from the table and held it up between his hands. 

“I’m going to put this on you first. “

I nodded, as familiar with the thick, satiny length of it as i was with my own skin. Jungkook sometimes liked using it to tie my wrists together , especially when he intended to take his time. 

i held my hands out but he shook his head, holding it up and then placing it over my eyes. 

I faltered a little when my vision went black, swallowing as the scent of his bodywash hit me, his body just a few inches away and the urge to touch was so strong , my mouth watering with the urge to run to my lips all over his delectable body. 

He finished tying the fabric at the base of my skull and pulled away. I felt the bed dip as he moved away. 

“ Take that shirt off.” 

I grabbed the hem and stripped quickly, tossing the shirt aside. 

“Lie down. On your back.” 

I nodded before doing just that, letting my arms rest on the side, palms facing up. 

The sound of the flogger cracking through the air made me wince. 

“You’ve ever been hit with one of these....” His voice came from somewhere to my right and I bit my lips, shaking my head.,

“Use your words doll....” 

The nick name made me squirm. 

“No.”

I jumped when I felt the soft strips of the blogger brush against my thigh, so gentle it felt like a kiss. 

“Hmm.... I want you to stay quiet from now unless i ask you something and you will only say, yes or no. Got that?”

“Yes.” 

“Good girl.” 

I felt like I was over heating, my body thrumming with anticipation.

“i don’t use it too often because I prefer my hands. Like bringing it down on the curve of your ass or maybe your thighs.....Nothing quite as satisfying as feeling that soft flesh give under your palm, hot and burning. And man the way the red just blooms on the surface when i pull away....addicting.”

His fingers closed over my thigh and squeezed. 

I jerked a bit. 

“It hurts at first....but it also feels good. A good , fiery burn that makes you feel alive .... that makes your skin thrum with life....and after the tenth hit, the pain is so numbed down that your mind only experiences the pleasure ..... “ 

I bit my lips to stop myself from saying anything. 

“The pinwheel is what really hurts.” I felt the sharp prick of it on my cheek, and i jerked back a bit., “  It’s very sharp and precise....like the stab of a hundred needles on your body...I like using it between the thighs....You know, right on that swollen little nub in the middle.... usually makes the girl lift right off the bed....”

He chuckled .

I was panting a bit, every word translating into a phantom touch on my body. Although he was only saying it, my body seemed to experience it physically. 

I felt the air shift around me, and then the familiar press of him body on mine, my arms instinctively shooting up to grip him as he straddled my waist, his hands grabbing my wrists and yanking them away. He pushed my hands up against the headboard, and I felt his breath right against my neck, feather light kisses that traced a path up to my ear and then he gently blew air against my earlobe. 

“And man, the vibrator is my favorite.” His voice was low and deep, whispering dirty, right into my ear and I clenched around nothing, feeling wet and empty as he went on, “  I’d leave it right up against your clit while I eat you out, two of my fingers fucking into your sweet little cunt, tongue lapping up that sweet , sweet slick of yours..... Fucking delicious , makes me want to bury my face into it.... fuck.....baby, i could eat you out for hours.... “

I choked out, struggling to get my hands free, desperate to feel him, desperate to feel him inside me .

“I would eat you out so good but I wouldn’t let you cum.” 

I felt my heart drop. 

“Please Jungkook-”

“Uh-uh-uh....Nope...” Jungkook muttered.” Don’t want you begging so soon baby.,... we haven’t even started yet...Didn’t I tell you not to say anything till I asked you to? What's the matter baby, you like hearing what I want to do to you? Doesn’t it make you wet...make you want to fuck yourself on my cock?”

I bit my lips, trying to regulate my breathing , bucking up into his hardness as he rolled his hips into mine. I kicked out , trying to dislodge him, just a little bit so I could feel him where i wanted and he grunted when my heel hit his shin. 

I whined when his fingers tightened on my wrists, hard enough to make the bones grind together. Pain shot up my forearm and I whimpered when a hand wrapped around my throat, gentle but with the threat of force behind it. 

“Stop fucking wiggling and listen to me. “ He snapped and I froze. 

“If I eat you out.... turn the vibrator up, and then tell you to not cum till i ask you to.....Can you do that?” 

“Yes.” I sobbed out, 

He grinned.

“Really baby? No protests? You’ve never let me edge you before....I wonder what’s changed?” He whispered.

“Trust you.” I whispered and his breath caught again. 

“You trust me that much?”

“Yes.” 

“Trust me when I say if you cant hold it off...if you cum without my permission, well....that’s when I’m gonna get the fucking whip.” 

My body screamed in protest at the very thought of it. 

“Well? “ He demanded, squeezing down on my throat just a bit. “ Still trust me?”

I felt the first gush of tears, feeling my heart thud against my ribs. All i could think about was Jungkook’s face when he’d held me that day, when Junho had hurt me. The way his eyes had flooded with tears at the sight of me hurt and it was absolutely laughable....the idea that Jeon Jungkook would somehow choose to hurt me voluntarily. 

“Trust you.” 

For a few seconds, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t move either. 

“Should we get started then?” 

“Okay.” I whispered.

I felt a pang of loss when he moved up and off my body, and I blinked against the blindfold, trying to ground myself. Fear and arousal made me disoriented , my mind struggling to decide whether I was enjoying this or not. 

I heard the crack of the flogger again and screwed my eyes shut. 

“You ready?” , the bristles traced up my leg, from my feet right up to the top of my thighs. 

I took a deep shuddering breath.

“Yes.”

I bit my lips, bracing myself for the hit. 

It never came. 

Instead, all i felt was the gentle brush of lips against my brow, and then against my cheek, soft, feather light kisses , peppered across my jaw and down my neck. I gasped as his lips parted slightly, opening and closing on the soft skin, suckling gently for just a second before his tongue followed, soothing the slight sting. 

I licked my lips , gasping when his fingers fluttered up and down my arm, so gentle that I wanted to cry. 

“I like the idea of taking you apart...., having you tremble with anticipation because you’re scared of what I’d do next , but you know what I like more, Areum?” 

Fingers lightly gripped my wrist, pulling them up till my hands rested on his shoulders. 

“Jungkook?”

“I like it when you touch me. I like it when you’re trembling, not because you’re scared or worried but because you’re feeling good....because I’m making you feel good.” 

I smiled despite myself. 

“Can i touch you?” I whispered.

“You don’t ever have to ask...” He breathed against my lips, and i surged up to kiss him. Letting my fingers drop down to tug at the hardened length of him. I ran a finger over the tip, mouth watering at the mound of precum leaking out of him, enough for me to get my palm wet , so I could stroke him without any abrasive friction. 

He growled , rolling over me and nipping sharply at my neck, before pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

“Gonna eat you out. “ He growled and i grinned.

“No vibrator?” I teased and he grunted, already crawling down my body.

“Don’t need it.... Gonna make you cum just with my tongue.” 

I let my head fall back against the pillows as he grabbed my hips, lifting my waist up before shoving a couple of pillow underneath.

“Bend your knees and spread your thighs for me angel.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my ankle and I nodded quickly, doing just that. I dug my heels into the soft sheets. 

“You want to me to get the vibrator?” He bit my thighs lightly and I jumped. 

“Not really....” I breathed out .

Warm wetness closed over my center and I gasped, fingers reaching down to grip his hair . 

“Gonna ride my face , baby?” He laughed against my slit, tongue tracing the seam with soft little kitten licks and I groaned. 

He lost no time, slipping two fingers straight into me, parting them in a V and licking into the gap, tongue pushing into me with the kind of ease that came from doing something you loved, something you enjoyed doing. 

Pleasure shot straight up my spine rendering me boneless, my limbs turning to jelly as he used his thumb to gently run circles on my clit, all the while licking into me, tongue curling inside me, pushing against my walls and lapping up the wetness like it was the sweetest drink he’d ever had. 

And nothing was a bigger turn on than how much he seemed to be enjoying it and i found myself falling apart embarrassingly fast. I felt my thighs start to tremble and Jungkook hugged against me, slipping another finger in, the fit now tight and I whimpered when he curled his fingers inside me, fingers tips reaching back to nudge the spot the usually sent me spiraling off the edge. 

“Don’t want you to cum yet,....hold off for me.... “ He whispered suddenly, squeezing in a fourth finger and I blacked out when my orgasm hit before I could even try to stop it, clenching down on his fingers so tight that he couldn’t even move them , my muscles screaming as I gripped the duvet under my fingers.

“I ....” i  couldn’t form words. 

“Thought I told you not to cum.” He said softly, somewhere over me. 

I swallowed.

“You... You did it on purpose ...you... fuck...”

“Did what on purpose...” He was laughing a little, and I mewled a little when his fingers rubbed on my clit again, thumb dipping into me playfully.

“Told me to not cum just before you.... Oh fuck” I choked out when he slipped his fingers right back in, and my body screamed in protest , the overstimulation making my eyes water. 

“Sould i get the whip as promised?” He laughed and I froze.

“I would let you, you know. “ I said softly.

He didn’t respond but he did draw his fingers out of me. I let my legs drop down to the bed and waited for him to say something but he didn’t , so I continued, stammering a bit.

“It’s not the kind of thing i would want in general...” I admitted, “ But I didn’t like half the things we do now, once. You’re... you’re my kink.” I chuckled, feeling a bit like i was laying myself bare . 

“Areum...”

“Its you...anything that makes you feel good is what makes me feel good... I love the way your eyes darken when you tie me up...The way you always want to hold me down with a little more force than necessary and the way you sometimes , purposely leave me handcuffed in a way that makes it hurt..... and its not because I’m a masochist or because i love pain but i just... I like doing it for you. “ I admitted. 

I waited for him to say something, and the silence made me nervous. Had I said too much? Had I made him uncomfortable? Oh God, did he think it was too weird?

I opened my mouth, ready to apologize for making things weirds, but before I could , the blindfold came off and I blinked , confused to see him hovering over me. 

“I...” He looked like he was shaking. 

“Jungkook?” I asked, confused, hand reaching up to grip his cheek, concern blooming inside me because of how scared and terrified he looked. 

“You.... You...What you said...” He was definitely shaking, 

“I’m sorry.” I said softly. “ I didn’t mean to imply I didn’t like it..I just want you to know that I’m open to doing new things with you and you don’t have to hold yourself back......”

"Fuck .,.. Areum.. I...” He closed his eyes, laughing a little. 

Genuinely worried, I brushed my thumb across his cheek in worry.

“Hey...what’s wrong?” I asked gently. 

His eyes fluttered open and he stared right at me. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” He whispered. 

My breath got knocked right out of my lung and i gasped out loud, my mind turning to complete mush. 

“I-uh...whu-buh???” I said intelligently and he laughed.

“Fuck.. i didn’t... I didn’t mean to blurt that out.. I...”

I grabbed him before he could move away, tugging his gorgeous face closer to mine.

“Did you mean that?” I croaked out, my voice raw from shock.

He stared at me doe eyes wide and open and so damn vulnerable. 

“Uh...yeah.. I... “

“you stupid fucking bastard...” i choked out, raising myself up to capture his lips with mine. He groaned as he kissed back, lips opening beneath mine and tongue slipping into my mouth with the practiced familiarity of a thousand kisses behind us ad it was so amazing, how incredibly new and exciting this felt, when we had done it so many times. 

I found myself grinning into the kiss as I slipped my fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick dark locks , to pull him away for a second. 

“Can i take you out on a date?” I panted and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah.... Yeah... you can.” 

I smiled and bit my lips, tears spilling out before i could stop myself. 

“I love you so fucking much...” I whispered and he brushed his thumbs across my cheek, wiping away the dampness.

“So fucking sappy.....” He said fondly. “ Now , tell me....can I fuck you....?”

I shook my head. 

Jungkook’s face fell, lips jutting out in a pout and I pressed a finger against his lips when he began to protest.

“You can’t fuck me....but you can make love to me. If you even know how.” 

His gaze softened. 

“I’ve always made love to you Areum.... I may have been rough but I never had anything but affection for you when I touched you.”

I couldn’t help but trace my fingers over his features, taking in the handsome curves and ridges of his face. 

“ I know...but I’d still like to do it gently. Sometimes.” 

He nodded.

“Anything for my gorgeous girlfriend.” He pecked my nose. 

My heart leapt right up at that. 

I could get used to being called that. 

I wrapped both my legs around him, drawing him closer.

“How do you want it?” He whispered.

“Just you... inside. “ I rubbed my nose against his as he nodded.

He barely let me catch my breath before lining himself right up against me and sliding right in and this time, I got to hold his gaze as he slid home, saw exactly how it affected him, how pleasure hit him, hard and fast as he sank into my warmth. 

“Oh fuck...” He whispered . 

“Fuck me slow.... like you have all the time in the world.” I demanded, slipping my fingers in his hair and gripping hard and he grunted, gripping my waist and squeezing hard enough to bruise . 

“ As you wish.” He moved his hands up to shape my breasts, thumb brushing my nipples till the nubs perked right up and I groaned when he bent over and took one of them into his mouth, all the while sliding in and out of me at a tortuously slow pace.

"I'm glad we skipped over the part where we deny our feelings.." I whispered against his lips and he grinned.

"I've never denied shit. If you remember..... This whole sex only business was entirely your idea....I asked you on a date two years ago...."

I flushed.

" I thought you were mocking me."

He shook his head , gripping me close and rolling us over so I was on top. Taking the cue, I dug my knees into the duvet and gripped his shoulders, biting my lips at the new angle .

" No , You thought I was a fuckboy..... I wasn't and I knew that I would have to work hard to prove it to you. "

"Prove that you weren't a fuckboy?"

"Prove that just because I liked sex doesn't mean I don't care about anything else.....Prove that, yes, I wanted to fuck your brains out but i also wanted to hold your hands and lick ice cream off your nose...." He rolled his hips into me and I moaned. 

“Well, thank you for that. Point taken . “ I choked out. 

He hummed and jugged the chain on my neck, fingers lightly tracing the inscribed JK’S.

“ So this is official?” He grinned. 

I rolled my eyes.

“I belong to no one.” I said loftily and he responded my moving his hips just a little too harsh on the next thrust, making me yelp in surprise. 

“This feels good...” He kissed the tip of my nose. 

“Nothing like good old vanilla sex after a heartfelt confession. “ I hummed. 

“But just so you know, we are definitely. playing with my toys someday.” 

I gave his ear a sharp tug.

“Stop ruining the moment and fuck me.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR’S NOTE :  See.... not a smidgen of angst to be seen anywhere :D :D :D Please leave feedback I’m thirsty for it :’( 

taglist :   

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[indulge-that-sin]

A Social Experience

Characters: GN!MC, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Mammon

Wordcount: 1700

Tags: Fluff, Domestic, Bonding Activities, Humor

(No spoilers for latter lessons, but takes place fairly late in the game.)

***

"--a gross, shut-in otaku like me!" Levi finished, on the all too familiar note.

Usually by this point you would already be launching into reassurances that he certainly wasn't gross, and shouldn't talk about himself like that, but this time there was nothing but a silence that bounced off the walls, damning and louder than any words.

You reached into your bag of chips, removed a single potato chip, and ate it as you tilted your head in thought. Levi took your silence like a slap in the face, and recoiled, his face already wavering. The sound of your chewing was distressingly loud in contrast.

You finished chewing and swallowed. "I mean, is that even true anymore?" you asked after a nerve-wracking length of time.

Levi's expression twisted more into confusion than hurt. "Huh?!" 

"Don't you kind of lose your hikikomori credentials if you become popular and people start coming to spend time with you all the time?"

"That's not-- I'm not-- You don't count!" Levi sputtered.

"Oh, I don't count, huh," you repeated, putting a hand to your chest and dramatically feigning heartbreak.

Levi looked abashed now. "Th-that's not what I meant," he rushed to add.

"I know what you meant," you said. "Give it an hour."

Now Levi tilted fully into confusion.

"Give what an hour?"

"My point to be made," you said, and placed your D.D.D. onto the lip of the bathtub, out of your own reach. It was also clearly visible to Levi as you both sat on beanbags in front of his TV, next to the bath tub. "An hour," you repeated in a portentous video game narrator voice.

Levi scowled and picked up his controller again, turning back to his game. But his reactions were off, now. His character moved jerkily around the screen, doubling back and taking wrong turns on the 8-bit map as Levi's mood roiled with the strangeness of the conversation.

You continued eating your chips slowly, savoring the taste of the limited edition novelty flavor that Levi had generously acquired for you. He'd tried to pass it as a coincidence, but he didn't really know anyone else who unironically enjoyed the taste of cream and devilradish chips.

Not even half an hour passed before there was a knock on the door. Levi asked for the password on reflex. Surprisingly, from the other side of the door came a sigh, and then Asmo's melodious voice reciting the string of nerd trivia that Levi had set as a password for him ever since they became unlikely allies for the Bloody Moon competition.

"Come in, I guess," Levi replied, giving you a long look. Your D.D.D. was still on the edge of the bathtub, untouched as you sat there elbow-deep in greasy chips. You couldn't have called anyone over. And yet, was this what you expected to happen?

"Give it forty more minutes now," you said low.

Asmo fluttered into the room, like a passing breeze bringing in the smell of perfume. 

"Oh, there you are, darling, I was wondering where you were," he said, face lit up as he saw you.

He sat uninvited next to you in the beanbag, and you scooted over to make space for him. Levi would have complained, except moving to make room for Asmo meant you shuffled closer to Levi instead, so he ended up biting his tongue.

"What do you want?" Levi grit out.

"Must I want something?" Asmo asked, "Is it not enough that I give my adorable brother the opportunity to entertain me?"

"He's bored," you translated.

"I'm soooo bored," Asmo whined, his shoulders rolling in a full-body sigh. But he perked up as he leaned forward to look at both you and Levi. "But what about all this? Mind if I join the fun~?"

"Let's find a game Asmo can play," you suggested. 

"If you'd like," Asmo acquiesced with a shrug, indicating he'd had some other kind of fun in mind.

Levi gave you another sidelong glance, full of suspicion, but his head was out of the game he was playing anyway, so he exited and pulled up his game library instead. Deciding which game to choose was the trickier part, because Asmo had terrible reflexes, and an attention span worse than Mammon's when it came to playing anything. This ruled out anything requiring twitch reflexes or understanding complicated rules. 

Asmo, meanwhile, scrunched his nose at your chips.

"All that grease and salt is going to be awful for your complexion, darling," he said, clearly disapproving.

"I'm not rubbing it on my face," you said, and defiantly sucked crumbs off your thumb. Levi nearly choked at the sound, which was borderline obscene. The little sound Asmo made in response did nothing to contradict this impression. Levi managed to swallow back the wave of envy before it came undammed by concentrating on the list of games on the screen. He still had to make a selection.

A farming sim seemed like a safe enough choice; something bright and frivolous. Just like Asmo.

Levi passed the controller as the title screen came up, and Asmo, to his credit, managed to choose the 'New Game' option without messing anything up. Yet. When the screen went dark as the game loaded, Asmo couldn't resist looking at his reflection and primping his hair a bit. Levi did resist snorting and rolling his eyes, but it was a close thing.

The character creation screen popped up with its myriad of options, and Asmo gasped in delight.

"Oh! This is a good start! Much better than getting shoved into some ugly gray metal suit at the beginning," Asmo remarked cheerfully. He cycled through the hair and clothing options with the speed and deftness of a veteran player. 

"Hey, beginner armor in RPGs can be colorful too," Levi protested.

"But not fashionable, apparently," Asmo sniffed.

Asmo had only just barely settled on a hairstyle and color combination he thought was adequately cute, and was scrunching his nose at the shirt options, when another knock came at the door.

"Come in," you called out, before Levi could demand a password.

Mammon's head popped through the door, and he pulled a face when he saw you there, just like he always did when you were in somebody else's company and not his.

"Eh? What're you doing here?" Mammon asked, closing the door behind him and sidling up to the three of you. 

He craned his neck and squinted at the screen, like he was verifying that whatever you were doing, it passed his requirements for propriety. Between knowing the kinds of games Levi had in his collection, and seeing Asmo there, maybe he was not completely unjustified in some suspicion, but it still made you want to roll your eyes.

"We're watching Asmo create his character," you explained.

Mammon guffawed. "Betcha been watching him do that for a while!"

"Fifteen minutes, more or less," you said. "But to be fair, Levi takes way longer to create characters."

"It's an important step!" Levi sputtered.

"Especially with the quality of the options," Asmo added. "Look at this. A purple T-shirt with a pink butt on it?"

"That's a peach!" Levi protested, his face turning red.

"I know what a butt looks like, Levi," Asmo replied tartly.

"Wait, wait, Asmo, that black one with the gold design ain't half bad! Go back an' pick that one." 

"That gaudy thing! Absolutely not!"

"Mammon, why are you even here?" Levi asked, now completely exasperated with his brothers.

"I was just seein' if we were still on for Devil Kart against those Purgatory Hall guys. We need ta win back our honor, ya know."

"Do we?" Levi asked suspiciously, "or are you running a betting pool again?"

Mammon made a good show of appearing indignant at the very suggestion, but he'd hit you up earlier today about whether you'd be willing to take a dive in the second half of Candy Mountain in exchange for a lump grimm sum, so you knew too much about the subject to defend Mammon without exposing him.

"Can't I be showin' an interest without ya gettin' all suspicious a' me? What makes me so weird, huh? Asmo here doesn't even play games, and I don't see ya hasslin' him!"

"I do too play games," Asmo protested.

"Really? 'Cause only thing I ever saw you play was that stupid matching thing with the gems, and I ain't seen much of even that lately."

You knew which game Mammon meant, because it was the only game app you'd ever seen on Asmo's phone. You'd watch him play in moments of boredom, swiping his screen with a completely blank look of concentration as he matched the colors of the gems in rows and columns, and they burst into sparkles. 

"Ugh, of course you haven't seen me play, I finished it. I have to wait until they add new levels."

"Didn't that game have like ten thousand levels already?" you asked. "You mean you passed all of them?"

"Eleven thousand and sixty five," Asmo corrected primly. "And yes, I did them all. I have to wait until they add more now. I asked."

The room fell into shocked silence at this. Even Levi looked mildly dyspeptic at the thought of completing eleven thousand levels of a match-3 game. You'd played it yourself for a while, and past the two hundredth level, the number of complicated mechanics the game introduced had completely broken you.

"Anyway," Mammon said after a few more beats of silence. He gestured to the screen, where Asmo was flicking between two shirt options. "This thing got co-op or somethin'?"

You finished your chips, and folded away the empty bag. When you picked up your D.D.D., fifty five minutes had passed.

"Still five minutes left," you muttered to Levi while Asmo and Mammon bickered over the choice of pants. "Wanna play the long odds and see if the twins show up too?"

"Okay, okay, you've made your point," Levi grumbled. "I let way too many people waltz in here. I'll have to tighten security."

But Levi's heart wasn't really in it, and when he turned to watch Mammon try to swipe Asmo's controller while the latter loudly protested, there was almost a smile threatening to spread over Levi's face.

[herstarburststories]

Home in a Motel Pool

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Dean and you have some fun in the motel's pool.

A/N: This one took a little longer than I thought, but here it's! Wet Dean in motel pool for us. So canon compliant of me, I know I know. This piece is my submission for @deanwanddamons 's 1st Blogiversary and 2K follower celebration with the prompt in bold. Congrats again, honey! And it's also my part for @anaelsbrunette 's YAS’S POC READER CHALLENGE with the song Home by Depeche Mode. Thanks for the extra time and the marvelous challenge!

Warnings: sex in the pool, p in v, dirty talk

Hunting was brutal. Even when the hunters won, it was a victory with no triumph-- there would be someone dead, always a corpse and loved one weeping as a reminder that you and the Winchesters couldn’t save everyone. You’d come around the town, tell the folks what they wanted to hear to get some information, kill the thing, and luckily save a person or two. It was a page from the emptiest stage, a show for a crowd of three: you, Sam, and Dean. Their own critics and praisers, doctors and patients, sinners and saints.

And if your hands were melted and molded into killing machines, you better pray for your heart to be made of anything but gold. That job didn't leave space or time for tenderness. In order to hunt the prey, you must become ferocious. Attack anything on sight, sing to the loneliest sound that’s the gunshot in the dark, pretend that you’ll make amends only to end up befriending the glorious end of the line that often came too soon.

Thing is, it wasn’t just about that. It would be easier if it was all about perfect soldiers and ultimate killers. A black and white world stained with crimson red would be the ideal, but there were always more colors.

Certainly, it wasn’t the most illustrious job one could get. If anything, it was unfair and underpaid and the seed of violence. Every hunter happened to do things they never could speak about, and all the blood got so normalized to the point red is just the color that pointed you were doing it right. like a good grade or a father’s head pat. Where was the seat on the table for any gentless to sit down in the chaos? In the thankful hugs from the mothers of the rescued children, in the pranks the boys came up with against each other for no other reason but childish nostalgia, in the nights where the three of you stopped and sat on Baby’s hood to watch the stars in silence, in the way Dean’s tough hands touched your cheek so lovingly, in the smell of the Impala’s wheels burning against the streets. Summarizing, when saving people wasn’t reasoning enough, kindness appeared glistening in the middle of the pandemonium, as a paragon of something good in cruelty.

Just like this moment.

‘’My body aches in places I didn’t even know that could hurt.’’ You groaned as you got out of the classic black car, hand on the back of your neck to apply some pressure. Even being thrown against a wall by some demon hurt less than sleeping in the backseat-- sweet mundane problems.

Sam scoffed before adding insult to injury, ‘’At least you were sleeping and didn’t have to hear the same cassette three times.’’

‘’Quit whining, you two. I was the one driving through two states.’’ Dean said in a huff, swirling the keys as the three of you walked towards Bonita Motel’s entrance. He placed an arm around your waist, his own way of showing affection in quietude. Your hand slipped inside his leather jacket’s pocket. ‘’Sides’, Baby’s backseat is comfortable and Zeppelin is awesome.’’

The youngest Winchester refrained his response to an eye roll and a mumble among the lines not when played three times in a row. You, though, turned your head to the side and offered your stubborn boyfriend a cynical smile.

‘’I prefer a bed.’’

He aimed at you with his signature lopsided grin, the one he knew that you loved, while you passed through the main door of the establishment. ‘’That’s not what you said last week.’’

‘’Guys, limits.’’ Sam pleaded, shaking his head at Dean’s comment before turning around. He made a chatter that quickly got old with the woman behind the counter, gaining two keys. The long haired hunter tossed one at his brother, who quickly grabbed it with his free hand.

‘’This is a good motel…’’ You commented as the three walked upstairs, the gleaming blue sight caughting your brown eyes. Your whole body shone as if it was really a beach and not only a cheap motel’s pool. Dean and Sam had never gone to the beach, but you grew up with salt aired weekends, a collection of swimsuits, and a loud family on the sand. You missed the sensation of being held by the ocean so dearly. It wouldn’t be the same, nothing was after you jumped in Dean’s Impala in New York; hustling for some other life, a better one like your parents when they came to the United States. Yet, a pool could be diverting and cozy. Pulling away from your man’s hold, you approached the small chlorine miracle. 

‘’There’s a pool!’’ You pointed out, as excited as a kid in a carnival. ‘’We should take a swim.’’

‘’You guys go. I have some research to do.’’ Sam nodded at the pool with his head, denying the request with a sleight of hand as he opened the lock of the room 209. ‘’Have fun, kids.’’

The green eyed man clicked his tongue when his brother disappeared with the craike of a door. He wasn’t exactly against the idea of jumping in the pool - apart from the germes, but his paranoia wouldn’t mind that much, not after trying endless motel’s bathtubs. The drive here had just been too long. Besides, if that crap motel had a well-cleaned pool, it probably had vibrating beds. He could use a massage. ‘’I think I’ll get crash in bed.’’

You arched an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t you say that Baby’s backseat was comfortable to sleep?’’

‘’How taller than you I am, sweetheart?’’ He smirked as you walked back to him like you always did, your own north star in shape of a magnetic force of a man,

‘’Shush.’’ You slapped his chest playfully, wrapping your arms around Dean’s neck. ‘’Come on. Most motels we go to barely have a door, much less a pool. I miss going swimming. It’s a sunny day…’’ The childish joy in your tone metamorphosed into a newfound malice. ‘’You’ll get to see me in a bikini.’’

The Winchester wiggled his messy brows at your statement, suddenly reinvigorated as he placed his arms around your waist to bring you closer. Forget the body ache and all that, that was a way better reason to be sore in the bones later. ‘’You made some good points.’’

‘’I always do.’’ You kept the adamant tone, even when you could feel his breath on your cheek, those green eyes so livid when looking at you. God, you had to put a period here before things escalated and you two ended up getting to right in the middle of the hall. You attempt to make a joke: ‘’Darling it’s better, down where it’s wetter.’’

He knew it was a prompt from The Little Mermaid-- you two had watched two days ago in Tupelo, in a vintage television after killing a Ghoul, while Sam got some junk food. Yet, the kind of smile that brought to his face held anything but purity. A simple conversation became double-edged with Dean Winchester. You two often ended up breathless, either from fighting or from doing more entertaining dances. You should’ve seen that one coming.

‘’I know another wet spot.’’ He’d say, unholy significance trapped in each word as his right hand started to motion over your skin, guiding his greedy finger under your skirt. Your mouth was set in a grim line, a surprisingly determinate attempt to hold back a moan. You and Dean could do it in the pool, unite the good infant memories with the tent-like emotions of adulthood to make a grand deal.

‘’You’ll get all of me wet.’’ You kissed the corner of his lips, smoothly pulling away with a wink. So much self control. ‘’Hurry up, cowboy.’’

You grabbed your bag and rushed to room 208 to change your clothes, leaving an astonished, mildly turned on Winchester behind. Getting in the bathroom, which didn't stink for once, you swiftly changed into the bikini. A jade green one, directly from Brazil’s brand Cia Maritma. If you squint your eyelids hard enough, you could still put a name to each face that was with you when you wore it for the first time in the calmer days. All the long gone friends and the daily sunbath in your caramel skin.

Decided to leave the past well enough alone, you just smiled in melancholy and turned around, facing your reflex in the mirror. You looked hot. Dean surely would agree about that, especially with the way the top brought up your breast.

Arriving in the room to your boyfriend ready for the swim, you couldn’t help checking him out. You were attracted to the way the righteous man’s body was built since the first glance, addicted since the first touch. His shoulder, the freckles on his nose, and the way he wasn’t all defined, yet had the muscles right in the certain spots. You took off your hairpin, hair falling on your shoulder into a brown sea, like the waves crashing against the ocean rocks. The smell of your sweat and orange monopolizing the edges of everywhere, mainly Dean’s senses. He relished on how soft your skin was compared to his, how your accent tingled his insides, and the way you swing your hips while walking. Your boobs almost jumping at his face because of the tiny bikini only aroused him more.

The place had to get some credit. For a dive motel, it was more than they’d picture. Manageable bathrooms and safe locks, the pool glimmering blue with a small tree by the right side. It was gorgeous.

A dazzling breeze whispered through your bodies, causing you to shiver slightly and Dean to get sweet smelling sheets clinging to his knees and feet. Fucking tree. You could taste the friction swallowing the atmosphere, a report of what was near.

Before you could say anything, Dean grumbled as he pokes a leaf away. ‘’It’s gonna rain.’’

‘’It will.’’ You agreed, holding his hand to pull him closer, well-aware that your body would scare away any linger of adorable grumpiness. ‘’But who cares about raining when you’re in a pool?’’

It's the kind of question that doesn't need an answer, it briefly exists to make Dean distracted in wonder just now, a pause between seconds as you jump in the pool first. The water splashing around with a brutal sound. Your body seems to recall an old memory, how you made a lark of anything with your siblings in the sea,  how you used to feel like the beaches were a peculiar way of God to show the living how his touch would feel like. Every fiber of your body missed this.

Dean went in too, emerging to the marvelous sound of your laugh. He glanced at you, now less of a hunter and more of a man. The drops on your face could easily be confused with tears, yet the way you grinned and threw water at him couldn’t leave space for any other world but happiness. The Winchester often noticed your longing for cultural things that you no longer had in the palm of your hand. It was stupid, he even felt somehow resposible for taking you away of everything you ever knew only to coaxe you through the road not taken— full of bumps and blood and undecked halls. Then you’d smile, you’d wrap your arms around him like you were doing in that exact moment, and he would see that the drops all over your face are flickering with your chortle.

What other choice would Dean have, what other option could he ever make himself pick, if not to place his hands on your hips? So it goes. He put his rough hand on your, each tender touch seeming to make the bruises there clear up.

The hunter was leaning in to kiss you as a wave of water met his face.

‘’Ops!’’

He narrowed his eyes, spilling out the water. ‘’You are gonna pay for this.’’

‘’I’d like to see you try, Kansas boy.’’

Yeah, you once were raised in the water, such an important part of your identity which you didn't wish to lose, yet slowly slipped beyond your reaches. But you had Dean, you had adventure, and you had the motel’s shitty pool. If you could find contentment in that, you should know that who you were wasn’t lost. You were still the five years old who played in the plastic pool, the seventeen girl who grabbed your cellphone’s lantern and went looking for what was making a noise at 3am, the twenty years old who jumped in a car with two hunters and a craving for finding her true home. You were all of them at once. 

Heaven sent the only true friend you could call yours and you’re under his lips. Dean’s crashing his mouth with yours, hungry like an animal after your playful war. You two are soaked, and so is your pussy. He pressed your against the border of the pool, your back to the wall of it. The water rushes in and you couldn’t care less. When did a bikini start to look like too much clothing?

Breaking the kiss, the Winchester glanced at you. The green of all the wild gardens localized in his orbs, dappled with stars and desire. Waiting for his touches, enjoying when he took his time with you was always worthwhile. Today, though, you needed him fast and dirty and raw.

There was nothing you'd rather than spread your legs, so you did it. Dean’s smart fingers quickly ripping your panties and brushing against your heat. He let out an annoyed huff, missing the satisfaction of your wetness around his digitals, how he knew you were a mess for him and him only. The pool’s water didn’t let it much evident, he’d have to fuck you even harder, make sure you were still needy for his cock.

You whined, clinging to his touch with a swing of hips. His hand covering your pussy as Dean applied some pressure, savoring the way your body winced and your eyes shut close, a beautiful moan leaving your lips. He couldn’t wait to eat you out later after he made you come in this stupid pool. Hedonism made his blood thicker-- like he was a calm sea before you, and now his waters were violent and hungry for destruction. 

He pulled his hand away. ‘’Dean…’’

‘’Don’t worry, sweetheart.’’ His throbbing cock entered you, voice even deeper as he spoke. ‘’Gonna give you what you want.’’

You placed your legs around his waist and he held your thighs underwater, the sky spilling out its own water above. It didn’t stop two. Your hand on his shoulders, nails sinking in seemed to be a combustible for Dean to go harder inside of your. His hips attacking yours as his mouth kissed your neck with bites.

‘’Dean, please.’’ You pleaded, warm walls squeezing his long dick. ‘’More.’’

‘’All my cock is for you, honey. You get all of it, fucking you, scratching you open.’’ The eldest Winchester said, his voice so low and sensual. You could come only from his talking. ‘’That’s what you want, huh? You want me to fuck that pretty cunt, mark you up inside this shitty pool.’’ His digital reached your clint and you growled. Dean kept his dick inside you, unable to pull away from the heavenly sensation of being inside you. ‘’Wanna know something? I can’t wait to come inside that tight pussy right here.’’

He increased the rhythm, pounding you even faster and rougher as you tried to keep up, the lack of synchrony causing his cock to reach and pull inimaginable pleasures inside you, all turning more brutal and necessary. The pool had its own waves, your and Dean’s movements causing a chaos ocean chaos in it.

The heat and the sickliest, you were drowning in pleasure with each thrust to a desperate beat that his heart echoed. All your pretty noises tangled with his breathless howls. The rain’s drops becoming one water with the pool as you and him became one with your intertwined bodies, only to grow apart again and come back in need for more.

Your and your lover’s figures distorted on the reflex of the pool water, washing away any piece left of purity as you moved in a hurry when you finally reached your orgasm. Your cunt tightening around his hardness was too much to bear, making Dean come after you.

He rested his forehead against yours, breathless faces with closed eyelids darting together. The heat calmed down by the water. Dean dared to look at you, but not to pull away. His cock remained inside your tight cunt and he caressed your cheek gently. That woman pounded from within and is pinning him down to earth, like you are his own gravity, the glimpse of relief, the lover’s photographe that gives the soldier’s battle a meaning.

‘’There’s a saying in my country.’’ You said suddenly, opening your brown eyes as he lifted his head to greet yours with his forest ones.

Dean captured your small nose, your desirable lips, your big eyes, your gorgeous tan skin, the signals he had map of on his lips. His thumb still stroked your face as his cock took its time to weaken inside your pussy. ‘’Yeah? What’s it?’’

‘’Quem está na chuva é pra se molhar.’’ He arched his eyebrows, a silent request for an english version. The Winchester knew around ten words in your mothertongue. Half pet names, half cussing. You pecked his plump lips. ‘’There's no literal translation, some things just lose their core if you try to put them to another language. It would be like if you are in the rain you want to get wet. It would be another way to say if you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.’’

‘’I gotta say, you look pretty hot when you say those things.’’ You smirked. You rolled your eyes playfully, fingernails tenderly fondling the back of Dean’s neck under his haircut. ‘’Do you miss it?’’

‘’My country?’’

‘’Yeah. Not just your country but your language, your friends, your life there.’’ He shrugged, secretly scared of the answer. ‘’It’s not like we go to the same places you used to go to. I see how many bikinis you carry around.’’

Which was the main reason he booked that motel. You didn’t need to know that. The childish joy you had with the surprise was enough for his credit.

‘’No. Well, I still speak my language when I’m mad at you.’’ Dean chuckled. Whenever you two got in a heated argument, your inner latina would come out and jump at him in both languages at once. It was supposed to be serious, but mostly got him all hot and bothered. Your accent was just too sexy, especially when you were angry. ‘’But no, not really. I miss situations and people, but not how it was. It was a good life, but it wasn’t the one I was supposed to have.’’ You pulled him to you by his neck. ‘’I thank you, you know? For bringing me here. For showing me home, Even for the tears and the fear. I finally I’ve found where I belong.’’

Tranquility engulfed the atmosphere momentarily as comfortable as a silent sleeper, the rain no longer coming, giving stage to a sunny sky. You and Dean, twisted together like that was all serenity you could relish on. You both quiet in the afterglow, his cock no longer hard but neither wanted to pull away. He laid his head on your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck. He certainly would bring you to a beach as soon as he could, maybe pop the pretty question on his knees there. For now, thought, he could enjoy thar simple moment.

‘’After my house was burned to the ground, I didn’t think I’d have another one. I was always rolling around the country, never really stayed in a place for too long. I didn’t want to call some random walls my home and have it destroyed in my face again.’’ Dean said, his thumbs caressing your thighs underwater. Since his first breath near you, he knew he was a goner. Even better, he knew he wasn’t a goner, a nomad, or a lonely wolf anymore. Dean Winchester once swore he would never come back home after what happened in there, and then you appeared. The hot latina who kept up with his stupidity and didn’t think twice before calling him out on his bullshit, and was always there for him and actually loved him-- not besides the job, but with all the things being a hunter included, all the ugly acts he had to go through. You believed he was good and worthy. His house burned, but you gave him a home. For the first time in so long, Dean felt warm and happy and loved. ‘’But you gave me a home. Without the apple pie life and all that. You, me, and Sammy-- fighting the good fight, just the three of us. This is my home.’’

To be a hunter was to be gauge of the deadliest trap ever laid, always carrying the heaviest cross ever made like a soldier’s duty that wouldn’t end with a couple years of trocious war. This treacherous slope was forevermore. A hunter life, all the fraunds and the paid phone calls and the running away with laughs empty of joy, the song from the wrong side of town. But fuck, all the saving and the excitment and the hustled love made a dance for the melody and suddenly it was worth it. All the tender parts, the new restaurants every week, the jokes in the car, the hidden chortles in the dark places. Sam. Dean. Dean and all this am out of love and loyalty he gave to you.

Everything was worth it to be in his arms.

He brought you back home.

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[silkentragedies]

A boyfriend sounds good, but…

Non idol! Jung Wooyoung x fem! Reader

3.1k words, Highly suggestive at best, making out, FLUFF, E2L vibes, College AU

Warnings: Mentions of STDs, making out. ( This is so self-indulgent it’s horrible lmao- also, not explicit at all.)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions of the real-life Jung Wooyoung. Not meant for minors. 

College was supposed to be late night parties and hurried submissions, overdosing on caffeine and woefully unedited essay compilations. College was supposed to be hellish hangovers and greasy weekend brunches in bed, helter-skelter running to part-time jobs and missing classes with snoozed alarms.

You got all of that, of course, but you also got one thing you didn’t ask for, in fact, wished beyond wishes that it wouldn’t happen but of course, your guardian angel was up to some mischief: You got yourself an archenemy.

Jung fucking Wooyoung.

It all started off small, of course; bumping into each other rather violently in the hallways on orientation day ended with your coffee on the floor. Minor detail- his phone had also dropped on the floor.

You apologized profusely- he seemed like an upperclassman with his leather jacket, slim but solid build, a head of double-toned hair and oh were those tattoos peeking out of his collar- no point in causing a ruckus on the first day. You even offered to pay for the damage. 

And then he opened his mouth. 

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

The sheer annoyance in his tone rubbed you the wrong way- obviously you had to respond, you weren’t the only one at fault- 

“Sorry, but you weren’t watching where you were going either. So don’t tout the blame to me-”

“Oh, whatever, just keep your money. I can get it fixed myself.”

The audacity of this bi-

“Good for you then, because my offer is off the table now, pretty boy.” 

A smirk curled up his lip- “You think I’m pretty?”

“About as pretty as a skunk, especially with that hair.”

You had to tamp down the urge to childishly stick your tongue out at his bemused, mildly annoyed expression before walking past him.

 Lamenting the loss of your morning coffee, you hurried your way to the orientation venue. At Least he was an upperclassman. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to deal with him-

“Did you see that hot guy in the leather jacket and that black-blonde hair ?”

Fuck’s sake. 

“His name’s Jung Wooyoung and apparently all the upperclassmen already have an eye on him. He’s in our major so we really lucked out, hot guys-wise.”

Fuck’s sake.

Surely you could just avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist?

But no.

Jung fucking Wooyoung turned out to be the apple of the campus’ eye in a matter of 2 weeks. He was as new to the university as the rest of you and yet, managed to look more put together, cooler than the rest of you still struggling to figure out class numbers and professor names.

He was the upperclassmen darling- people drooled over him, wanted to befriend him, and invite him to all the big parties…

and fuck- even the teachers were already wrapped around his infuriating pinky finger. They allowed him to waltz into class 25 minutes late, smile his infuriating innocent smile and chill in the back row, scot fucking free.

A month in, he’d gotten into the Dance Club too-  cementing his legendary status in the university. It was unheard of, after all, for a freshman to get into the unattainable Dance Club in his first attempt. 

You happened to visit one of the club’s performances one weekend and even you couldn’t ignore the sheer talent he radiated. It only infuriated you more to watch Wooyoung hog the stage’s spotlight with almost no effort- all perfect lines, sharp and clean movements…

It’s fine, you could still ignore his existence

But no.

Another thing about Jung Wooyoung- he found sick pleasure in annoying the living daylights out of you. 

It was so juvenile, so high-school, so immature of him- sticking gum in your hair, snapping your bra strap, kicking the back of your chair, striking up nonsense debates with you in class…

And then he had the nerve to laugh in your face when you glared at him with hellfire in your eyes because you were too polite to lash out in front of a professor.

Of course, you exhibited no such restraint outside the classroom.

“You vs Woo” was a commonplace explanation for the commotions that blazed up in the campus courtyard every other day. You were like wolves, the way you snarled at each other, not hesitating to slash at each other with as many cutting words as you could find. 

This went on for months, an entire semester marred by an enmity that seemed to stem from nothing- until one day, mister Jung Wooyoung really fucked up.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? FACE ME, YOU COWARDLY WORM!” Your angry yelling and thudding on the door had Wooyoung’s roommates Yeosang and… Choi San? running to open the door to their shared dorm room. 

You barged into Wooyoung’s room, unplugging the game he was playing. “What the fuck-”

“You dirty fucking bastard. You shameless shitstain of a fucking human being-” 

Slap. Wooyoung reeled back. In all this time, you’d never actually hit out at him physically. It had always been words. Maybe this time he crossed a line?

“You told Changbin I had a fucking STD. THE GALL OF YOU-” You lashed out at him with every few words, pushing Wooyoung further back against the back wall of his room. 

“How fucking dare you make assumptions about me like that. you lowlife scumbag.” You snarled in his face, now having him trapped between you and the wall.

You were smaller than him by quite a bit- it was almost amusing to see Wooyoung cowering in front of you, lowkey terrified of what you’d throw at him next. 

“Okay okay, fuck, I’m sorry!” He burst out finally, cutting you right across your angry rant. “I didn’t mean it like that!! I swear, I didn’t even know you were the one he was talking about. And I only told him to be safe from STDs, not that anybody had one.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you, Jung,” You screeched. “You’ve always been a dick in general to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that and lie to my face about it.”

You back away, almost disgusted at being so close to him, “Seriously, dude. Get fucked.” Flipping him off before leaving, you turn around to look at him still standing where you’d backed him up to, an evil glint in your eye.

“It will be so fucking unfortunate if somebody told the campus gossip blog you had erectile dysfunction and your hookups were all fake.”

\

Safe to say, Wooyoung never made digs at your sexual activity again.

Neither did he have much sexual activity of his own for a while. Not that there was much sexual activity in your case either.

Maybe it was that exact…starvation that led Wooyoung to behave the way he did.

What was juvenile teasing became more… flirtatious?

Oh gods, what the fucking fuck is going on-

Suddenly, it wasn’t gum in your hair, it was soft whispers against your ear, breath warm against your cheek

It wasn’t kicking the back of your chair, it was leaning in front of you to fistbump Lee Felix on the other side of you until you could smell his intoxicating chocolate-honey-sweat scent.

He’d taken to taking his leather jacket off and sitting through classes (he still turned up late for) in a muscle t shirt that showed off his toned arms- 

All of his movements now seemed to be designed to tease the crawling under your skin you hadn’t been able to quench recently-

Not that you were a serial hookup kinda person, but you’d been fairly sexually active until semester exams and Wooyoung’s rumors had brought around quite a dry spell for you.

It was like every action of his sparked something wildfire hot in your head, tension stringing your senses into overdrive- were you imagining it?

Wooyoung was having some troubles with said crawling under-skin himself. 

Since when did you wear skinny jeans like that to class? Did you always have such a pretty neck, just waiting to get marked up? Did you always have that sway to your hips when you walked out of class?

The forced abstinence was doing bad things to him. 

It did rather amuse him, however, when he could see your breath catch a little from his murmurings in your ear, or squirm in your seat when he spoke to Felix before the professor arrived. It was the little things, truly. 

You still fought like a cat and dog though- there was no way the two of you would ever let on that your scope of noticing each other had gone beyond annoyance and rivalry a while ago. 

//

“Fuck no. I’m not doing this fucking project with you. It’s worth half the fucking grade and you’re a numbskull when it comes to this subject.”

“Like I want to deal with you anymore than I have to, sweetheart. You’re pretentious enough in class as it is.” 

Fate really loved playing the cliche card with you- of course you got paired up with Wooyoung for one of your semester projects. 

No, it definitely wasn’t the teacher that saw you two glaring more at each other more than the whiteboard and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of fucking course the teacher refused to allow switching of partners or individual grading- it had to be a team effort or you’d both fail the subject. As a team. Yippee-ki fucking yay.

So you two ended up in the library at 11 p.m, two nights before your first check point review, having procrastinated the fuck out of working together until the last possible minute.

Amidst cursing at each other and cups of ramen and iced americano, the two of you found yourself stuck with each other and attempting to build the basis of an acceptable report to present. 

Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to the subject. He actually made sizable contributions to the report. He even got you some coffee on his break, despite the jibes and taunts you threw at him about going soft- you were the type to hold a grudge.

You were both wandering down the shelves in the library, looking for more references when Wooyoung decided to open his big mouth again.

“You do realize that shitty rumor you put out didn’t really mess with my prospects, right?” Wooyoung was so full of shit. “If anything, I’d be worried about you, sweetheart.”

There it was again. Sweetheart. Another of those taunting things that just riled you up in all the wrong(right) ways. It was like he knew everything you would go weak for and then shamelessly exploited them all.

“Unlike you, Wooyoung, I don’t need people to stroke my ego…or anything else. I can get myself going just fine.”

“If you did know how to stroke anybody’s anything, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have trouble getting some.”

Ohhh, so he wants to play some games!!! Okay then-

You reached out to flick at his ponytail, ever-so slightly enamoured by how well he pulled off the double-toned look.

“Like you know anything about how to please in bed, babe.” 

It was unfair how much that nickname falling from your lips affected Wooyoung. Some…not very appropriate thoughts had already taken root in his brain and you running your mouth was not helping at all. 

“Good enough for them to beg, sweetheart.” 

A soft crow of laughter escaped you as you turned to fully face him, the both of you standing between the Greek Architecture and Geography sections.

“You sure you weren’t the one doing the begging?” 

“Oh, really now?”

You really should’ve thought through what was leaving your mouth 

Because now you were wedged between the shelves and Wooyoung’s (unfairly) toned body, his arms caging you in with that signature shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned closer to you- 

The tension was almost atrocious now, suffocating you when it had only previously nudged at you. You could feel it settle under your skin, in your veins, fingers itching to reach out and pull him closer 

But you kept your hands braced against the shelves- you would not give him the satisfaction of making the first move yourself…right? 

Fuck, you really wanted to though- 

It had be the late hour leaving you with lesser inhibitions than normal or possibly the pent up horny in your system or maybe the questionable direction your conversation was headed in

There was no other plausible reason for your arch nemesis’ lips to look that inviting

It must’ve been the way your attention flitted from his eyes to his lips that gave you away, a momentary lapse of self-control before you looked away, off to some point behind his shoulders-

And he smirk only widens

“You know, nobody really visits this corner of the library.”

“Your point?”

Both your voices were whispers now, your bodies close enough to touch but not quite, Wooyoung’s face a few inches away from yours and holding your gaze 

(He had honey flecks in those dark eyes, 7 on one side and 4 on the other, like gold leaf in coffee)

“We could easily find out who begs for who…”

He still hadn’t touched you yet, his hands placed on the shelf on either side of you- you could move out from the space if you so wished-

Despite the tension between the both of you, it seemed like… like he was waiting for you to make the first move, voice your consent, act on it 

How considerate, you thought to yourself as you let your sight wander to either side, checking for people 

Surprising you found Jung Wooyoung’s one possible redeeming quality like this, mind hazy and barely restraining yourself from kissing the living daylights out of him- 

Oh well, fuck it

A soft sound left Wooyoung as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours, lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss

How dare he be a good kisser too?

One hand reached up to cup your cheek and you instinctively tilted your head into the warmth of his palm as the kiss deepened

Unfair that he could take your breath away so effortlessly

There was nothing hesitant about the way Jung wooyoung kissed you back

Lips pressing more persistently against yours, teeth grazing your lower lip and pulling slightly before diving in again, hand now curled around the back of your neck

His other hand caressed your side and gripped your hips as he pressed you gently against the shelves, your arm slipping down to clutch at the front of his shirt as his body molded all too perfectly against yours

You could feel him everywhere

Everywhere 

From the way his lips had begun to land messy kisses against your jaw and neck, the hand on your hip tightening and slipping under your shirt to clutch at soft skin, hips flush against yours 

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from Wooyoung, your head spinning at the intoxicating feeling he brought with him 

The sensation of his mouth against your neck was almost euphoric, your head lolling back against the books and leaving you to pull your lower lip between your teeth, an almost futile feeling bid to keep silent, you’re still in public

Somehow your hands wound up in his hair, pulling the double-toned strands as his head dipped lower, a quiet groan from Wooyoung your only pointer that he liked it

So this is why he was so sure of himself, your mind temporarily blanking when Wooyoung’s teeth pulled against the sensitive skin, biting and sucking gently

A choked, uneven sound escaped your mouth when he pushed you harder against the shelves, hand reaching lower to squeeze your butt-

A smirk lit up his eyes as he straightened up to look at the line of red- blue blooming across your neck, then at you, cheeks warm and still biting your lip, looking resolutely away from his gaze

“Weren’t we supposed to be working on the project?” 

This little buzzkill.

//

You didn’t work on the project that night

You spent it in Wooyoung’s bedroom, getting railed within an inch of your life.

Not without the lack of the both of you being absolutely unable to keep your hands off each other on the way there 

Between the library and his dorm, you pulled or got pulled into shady alleys and corners for ‘another taste’ 

“Never again.” You warned him when he dropped you off at your dorm, you looking windswept from the wind of course and his hoodie up because of the cold not because his neck was more purple than tan-

Lies.

Your daytime dynamic remained the same 

But now with added benefits- 

He got to corner you after class, feel you up until you were gasping his name and then leave you hanging 

You got to make brazen moves under the table in the library whenever he got too snarky for his own good

He could ask nicely, you learnt. Broken groans and choked-up sounds would escape him when you ran your nails over his skin, soft and sharp and wanting and unyielding as you kissed your way down his body

Down his neck, over his chest, the hard planes of his stomach 

He would plead for more when you sucked him off, bucking his hips closer to you everytime you slowed down or stopped

Find him at the right time, though and he could just as easily return the favour

He would tease you relentlessly, hands ghosting everywhere dangerous and then pulling away just to watch you squirm and make grabby hands at him, a frown marring your kiss- swollen lips 

Leave conspicuous marks too high up on your neck for you to cover, dark enough for a day or two that even makeup left shadows

Spending a long, long time between your legs only to get up and start dressing, claiming to be late for class

Quickies were your religion at this point 

Janitors closets locked and hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans before a dance competition, empty bedrooms in frat parties with one of you getting pushed onto the bed

It was an infernal coupon from hell : Find one archrival, get a fuck buddy free of cost!

Of course, there were side effects

“Did you just walk out of that empty classroom with Jung Wooyoung? After class hours?” “We were studying for the midterms!!”

“Uh.. Wooyoung, who was that leaving the dorm building? at 1 in the morning?” “uh yEAH WE WERE DOING THE PROJECT YEAH.”

Yeah, a boyfriend sounds nice but an archenemy you can make out with in secret sounds ravishingly pleasing-

When the boy in question is a certain young man with double toned hair with a penchant for leather jackets and out-of-line snark, you couldn’t agree more.

Yes, this is a revamp and repost from my main account xD. Like I said, this was self indulgence to the peak 😩 I'm a tad whipped for snarky boy Jung Wooyoung 😀

Do lemme know what you think ^_^. xoxo, A💕

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu​ @whiteprincessofnohr​

(drop me an ask to be added or removed! )