#and how they just stare at each other like That before going in for the kiss

[sooniebby]

First Drabble after a month or so… Anyway, reader is a bisexual man, deal with it. Kinks are: voyeurism, spanking, dubcon, cucking, manhandling, praise, lite feminization. Brief mention of m/f sex but reader is a bottom and is mentioned to have a cock. BDSM relationship. Tw. Girlfriend is a bit abusive so skip this if bad doms bother you 🫶🏼 no set character, but I gave him a name! A little long tbh, not even a Drabble anymore

The things you do to make your girlfriend.

“Ohhh! Gimme more, Mark.”

You roll your eyes, checking your phone as your girlfriend gets her pussy fucked by your “friend” Mark. They were too busy having the time of their life to notice you stopped paying attention to them.

Your girlfriend, Lizzy, just loved this whole cuck fantasy shit. Whatever made her happy. You tried many other times to tell you that you didn’t necessarily like it but she always somehow made you the bad guy.

It was your first relationship dealing with BDSM, she was more than likely right since she had loads of relationships before you.

Right? She wouldn’t use your naivety to her advantage… right?

Hah.

Anyway, she loved making you watch other guys fuck her. Especially if their dick was bigger than yours. Though you didn’t like her saying your four inches was small.

Some guys had two inches, you were perfectly fine.

She began moaning something about how big he was, you didn’t really care at this point. You didn’t even know if you liked this whole BDSM thing. Sure, being the submissive was cool at first but now it just felt… eh?

You certainly hated her way of being a sadist. You hated being a masochist. It wasn’t fun.

But, whatever makes her happy. She’s freaking Lizzy Powers, the hot girl from your university. Every guys falls for her.

There was particularly high pitched yelp that caused you to look up in concern but it seemed Mark had just manhandled her into another position. You huffed and just went back to watching TikTok thirst traps.

The few times you looked at them to pretend you actually cared, Mark seemed set at staring right at you. His thrusts would always get faster each time. Weirdo.

Mark was popular, just like Lizzy. Loved by many girls (and guys). He was supposedly good natured and kinda but you kinda found him creepy, especially right now.

Was there something on your face???

“Ooh, (Name)~!” Lizzy whined, “he’s so much better than you… Just look at how well he fucks my pussy.”

She looked over at you—you quickly forced a frown. She loved seeing you “upset” about the other guy fucking her. Something about getting you to try harder when you fucked her the next day.

It worked the first time, but after that, you stopped caring. You kinda stopped caring to fuck her as well. It wasn’t even that she was fucking all these other guys. Something just kept bothering you.

Maybe the fact she didn’t go on regular dates with you and there didn’t seem to be an end to the dominate actions she had.

A shrill voice filled the room, Lizzy was cumming. You used to always love seeing this part—just seeing your gorgeous girl coming undone.

Eh, you’ve seen it before. These days, you found yourself watching the guy fucking her instead of her. Which was bad, that was cheating, or at least that’s what Lizzy had told you.

So you made sure to not look at Mark as much. Mark pulled out and rolled off his condom, tossing it into the trash bin next to the bed. The loud sound of music was still ringing downstairs from the party.

You would’ve thought this dumb party would’ve been done by now. “Was that it?” You asked, standing up. “I have a test tomorrow so I need to get back to my dorm.”

There was a moment of silence as Lizzy and Mark stared at you. Mark simply nodded and moved to put his jacket and shoes back on. Lizzy however, looked furious. She stood up abruptly, putting on her dress and stormed over to you.

Oh no.

You knew that look. She was about to “discipline”you. Her punishments were so humiliating—you hated it so much. 

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Her anger radiated off her face. Though she only stood to your chest, she managed to make your heart drop. There was no fun in this. But isn’t this what these relationships involve?

This was just how it was.

Her harsh words began spilling out, probably promising a punishment once you reached your dorm. Or possibly even when Mark left. But knowing her, she’d get a kick out of him watching.

Maybe you should’ve gotten a different girlfriend. This one doesn’t exactly make you happy. The thought couldn’t go any further though when Mark cleared his throat, ending Lizzy’s tyranny with ease.

“Your submissive isn’t exactly listening to you. I don’t mean to pry,” though the smirk on his lips tells you otherwise. “He looks legitimately scared. No sense of pleasure in him.”

Lizzy scoffed. “And you can do better? He’s just new to this, but it seems to be taking forever for him to listen to me.” She said, harshly poking at your chest with her finger. You try not to show any emotion from the slight pain.

“I can. But that’s if you want your submissive to get a taste of what’s better.”

A pin could be dropped and it would’ve made more noise. You watch in awe as Lizzy practically turned pink in the face. Wow, you’d never seen her this anger. There was silent rage in her eyes before she pulled a quick smile.

“Sure. He’s all yours.”

But Mark looked over at you. He stood up and took off his jacket, walking over to you with a look of determination. “Do you want it?”

“W..wha..?” You whispered, feeling dwarfed against his tall height. Jesus, does he play volleyball or basketball??

“Do you…” his hand slowly reached up, gently grabbing your chin before forcing you to look up at him. Oh. “…want me to touch you? Show you real pleasure.”

“….yes…”

His lips pulled into a slight smirk. “Good boy.”

So here you are, pants less. Mark was kinda enough to let you keep your sweater on. Lizzy was sitting at the desk chair you once were. You felt bad for whoever’s frat brother’s room you guys were in. Poor guy.

“Do you know why you’re being punished?” Mark suddenly said, sitting on the bed as he patted his lap.

You huffed and moved over to where he was. “Attitude probably.” You muttered, looking down at the bed sheets. Ooh, sport cars.

A tug at your sweater caused you to yelp as you were forced to look Mark in the eye. “Look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me.” With little force, he pulled you to drape over his thighs. They were quite muscular. Hm, maybe soccer?

You could feel Lizzy’s harsh glare on your body. It was just reminding you that she was so pissed over you having a slight attitude. Gosh, we doms all like this? You were seriously considering if you wanted to stay in this type of relationship.

Mark’s hand gently gripped your butt, softly massaging it. “I don’t think you deserve a punishment, but I’m going off what your dom wants. This can be really easy, (Name). Just count, okay? I’ll only go to ten.”

“Just ten?” Lizzy cut in.

“Ten is enough. He didn’t do anything terrible.” Mark countered. “Was I even speaking to you?”

You didn’t want to know the look Lizzy gave him. His hand gripped your ass before he released it, gently tapping it.

“(Name), what’s your safe word?”

You blinked, “what’s that?”

There was a tense silence. You tried to look up but Mark quickly pushed your head back down.

“Just whenever you want to stop. In case it’s too much.”

“Oh uhm. Stop should work fine, no?”

“Alright. You can always say red as well. Yellow would be if you just want a breather, okay?”

“Oh… would green be for keep going?”

Mark hummed, gently massaging your butt. “Mhm. Aren’t you smart?”

You blushed slightly. Oh, that was nice. When was the last time Lizzy complimented you?

“Starting now.”

You prepared for the worst. Whenever Lizzy spanked you, it was torture. Just hit after hit with no room to breathe. Didn’t help she would use those whips. It took you awhile to convince her to just use her hand.

Sometimes the damn thing would just start hitting your thighs or back. It was like she was purposefully missing your ass.

Smack!

Oh. What were you supposed to do? You could’ve sworn you were supposed to say something. That felt so weird, but you felt your toes practically curl as a gasp left your lips. He must’ve had experience doing this…

He gently rubbed the slight curve of your hip. “C’mon, count for me.”

Oh right. Counting…

“O..One.”

It went on, each time you momentarily went blank in the head. This wasn’t anything like Lizzy’s spankings. Mark was spanking you hard, definitely, but there still was a slight softness to it.

Hmm, you could probably revisit spanking.

“Ten…” You muttered, sighing in slight relief that it was over. You gently got up from Mark’s lap, ready to pull your pants back up but he pulled your back down.

“What are you doing?” He asked, rubbing your sore cheeks. You heard the sound of a container being opened before a cooling substance was rubbing onto your skin. It was pure relief. A relaxed hum left your throat.

Lizzy coughed, breaking the moment. You almost forgot she was there. “Are you done with my boyfriend?”

“Hm, no. His moans were cute, I want to hear how he sounds cumming on my cock.” He said bluntly, causing you to blush in pure embarrassment. His cock?! He was going to fuck you?!

Lizzy sputtered as she stood up. “What?! That’ll be cheating!”

“It’s just cucking. A man can cuck a woman.”

“But—”

“—It’s only fair (Name) can cuck you too.”

It was wrong. But his words made you grin. Cucking her back? Oh that sounded fun. Finally, she could feel how you felt.

“Okay.” You suddenly said, removing yourself off Mark’s lap. “You can fuck me.” You weren’t scared about anything going into your butt. Lizzy has fucked you with a strap before, those were the few times you had the most fun during sex with her.

Shame she never wanted to do after the two times.

You grabbed the lube that was left on the nightstand from Lizzy and Mark’s previous fuck and drizzled a decent amount onto your fingers. Sitting down on the bed, you began to stretch your ass open.

It was pretty easy, you did masturbate this morning with a dildo. The entire time, Mark just stared at you with hunger, his eyes watching your hole swallow your fingers with ease. He was probably expecting some type of resistance.

“I’m ready.” You muttered, moving to get into a doggy position but Mark grabbed your hand. A shriek left you as he picked you up with ease and plopped you down into his lap.

This position… was embarrassing to say the least. Your legs were wide open, your cock hard against your tummy. Lizzy was literally right across from you, seeing everything. You squirmed, wondering why Mark was so set in humiliating you.

His lips suddenly pressed against your ear, his chin resting on your shoulder. The sound of his zipper and slight shuffling filled your ears as his cock slipped out. Holy shit. He was definitely huge… maybe 7 inches??

“I want…” his hand reached up and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look Lizzy straight in the eye. “Miss Powers here to see you cum on my cock, seeing you become my pretty little slut.”

Your cock twitched. His cock pressed against your ass, gently teasing your hole. Slowly, he lowered you down, letting the stretch become comfortable.

He was definitely huge. You didn’t understand how Lizzy took this thing without crying out in pain? Once he was fully in, you let out a shaky breath, gripping his hand that held your hip.

“Good boy. You’re taking me well.” He whispered, pressing a kiss on your neck. “Now move.��

“What?”

“Ride me.” Mark simply said, gently patting your thighs.

Holy fucking shit. You were supposed to ride this guy while your girlfriend watches? Jesus. You moved slightly, gripping his thighs as a way to hold yourself help as you began bouncing up and down.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, your soft moans right behind it. This was better than any strap. You could feel him inside you—his heat. A shudder left you when his cock pressed against your prostate. You quickly tried to keep that position, gasping at the constant pressure.

You practically forgot Lizzy was even there. All you cared about was getting off.

No, all you cared about was making sure Mark was enjoying it.

That was a first.

You glanced down, wanting to see if Mark was enjoying himself. The sight caused your hips to stutter. He was staring right at you, a smirk on his face. His free hand was gripping at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart slightly.

He broke eye contact to look down at your hole, laughing slightly. “It’s so cute. Hey, I’m your first real one huh?”

“Y..Yeah..”

“Good. I’ll be your only too.” He said, delivering a harsh spank on your ass. A scream escaped your lips as you stopped for a moment, trying to process everything that was happening.

First and only? What?!

“Hey, why’d you stop?” His hands suddenly had your waist in its grasp as he pulled you back. You were once again looking at Lizzy, seeing her pure anger. Gosh, you were really betraying your girlfriend.

“Why are you treating him so gently?” Lizzy suddenly commented.

Mark hummed. “It’s his first time. You always gotta treat beginners like glass. Once he’s properly trained… I’ll fuck him like the whore he is.”

“Whore..?” You muttered, but before you could ask why he kept calling you stuff like that, he was suddenly making you bounce up and down on his cock. It was so sudden, so fast and made your previous movement seem like nothing.

If this is him treating you like glass, you wondered just how mean he got…

Your back arched as you cried out, resting your head on his back as the pleasure began to take over. It was so much. But you wanted more. You just knew he could do more.

You wanted it so bad.

You were too lost in the pleasure to even notice that Lizzy left until the sound of a door slamming caught your attention. “Hng…? Why’d she..?”

“Fucking finally.” Mark muttered, pulling you off his cock. You whimpered, feeling your cock leak dejectedly with pre-cum. He plopped you down on the bed and pushed your legs up, putting you in a mating press.

His cock easily slid back inside as he leaned down, grinning. “Now that she’s out of the way, I have you all to myself.” He whispered, his hips moving upwards in harsh staccato type motion. Each slap caused a struggled gasp to leave you in tandem.

“Been hearing all about how you were just her little cuck. Using you because you knew nothing about how these type of relationships work..” he mumbled, a groan leaving his lips when you clenched around his cock.

You couldn’t even care about what he was talking about. You just wanted to cum already. This position was so odd, you didn’t even know your body could fold this far.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore, baby. I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself as mine.”

“Y..yours..? What..? Ngh, did you..”

“Fuck her to get to you?” He laughed, leaning down to kiss your lips. You blushed, shocked that the kiss was so sweet compared to the sinful thrusting. “Yeah, anything for you.”

Anything for you…? You didn’t get to truly understand just how deranged that sounded when he began to roughly fuck you. He managed to push your legs even further as he draped himself over your body, ravaging you like a cheap slut.

Your screams and his grunts mixed together as you gripped at the sheets beneath you for type of stability. If that stupid loud music from downstairs wasn’t still playing you were sure everyone would be able to tell you were getting your stomach rearranged.

“(Name)…”

You let out a strangled hum.

“Your pussy is tighter than hers.”

Yaaaay… first post back! Feel really proud of this one, though I didn’t mean to make it longer than a usual Drabble, felt like I had to add a lot of stuff before the porn… lmao.

@the-ultimate-librarian @mello-life25 @chill-guy-but-cooler @kiiyoooo @iwishtobeacrow @star-3214 @smellwell @ofclyde @flurrina @tehyunnie @remdayz @love-kha1 @mooncarvers-world @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

[railingsofsorrow]

don't walk out

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 

navi

masterpost

cm masterlist

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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  

lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  

it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 

“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  

“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 

“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 

it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  

“I'm gonna drive.” 

“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 

“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  

he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  

“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 

his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 

but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 

“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 

“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  

he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 

“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 

“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  

“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 

and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 

but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 

we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 

“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  

“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  

spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 

you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  

and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  

“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 

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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 

[hysteria-things]

DRUNK IN LOVE

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your boyfriend has never been so in love. he has to prove it to you somehow.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, swearing, jealousy, oral (female receiving), spanking if you squint, overstimulation, dumbification, passing out

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 756

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: day FIVE (🤫) of nate week!

WE ARE SO BACK…

genuinely, you don’t know how much more you can take, but god it feels so good. your legs are propped over nate’s shoulders, still shaking from your two previous orgasms.

juices coat his mouth and the sheets below, your fingertips massaging his hair. he hasn’t come up for air once, and it’s quite shocking to you.

your twitching lower half grinds into his face, chest heaving as you pant uncontrollably. your parents aren’t home, so you two need to take advantage of that.

the funny thing is, he’s not doing this because you guys got bored. he’s doing this because he saw you and this one kid talking at his lacrosse match… he didn’t like that.

the two of you are a well-known couple around school, so it didn’t take long for everyone to know you’re off limits. guess that one junior didn’t get the memo whatsoever.

before the other team gets to the school and while the stands slowly fill, they warm up as much as they can on the field. a glimpse of you catches nate’s eye, but you’re not alone.

nate stops in his tracks, staring intently at the way whoever that fucking kid is is talking to you. from where he is he can’t hear, but he can tell by the boy’s body language.

you’re too much of a people pleaser to notice, but your boyfriend can notice from a mile away that he’s flirting with you. his hand touches your shoulder while you’re laughing at something he said.

eyes like daggers, nate breathes heavily from anger the more he watches this go down. “nate, man, you good?” one of his teammates asks, jogging in front of him to block his view.

“yeah. i’m fine.”

it’s just the fact that he loves you so much he can’t help himself as he worships your pussy. his pussy, and he’s letting you know that it belongs to him and nobody else.

his tongue licks fast strands up your slit, high-pitched mewls leaving your mouth. “nate.” you sob, hot tears trickling down your face. “nathan.” you repeat, gripping tighter onto his brown locks and arching your back.

usually, he would praise you, but he’s so pussy drunk that he can’t pull away. your mind isn’t the only thing that’s not thinking straight. his isn’t either.

other than your cries and moans, the squelching noises your pussy makes are his favorite sound. he hums hungrily into your cunt, and you exhale when your third release of the night paints his lips that have to be swollen by now.

the view at nate’s eye level is fucking filthy. your poor comforter is drenched, practically ruined at this point. the inside of your thighs glistening with your folds fluttering the rest of your orgasm out onto his chin. this isn’t enough. he needs more.

his muscle enters your sopping hole, all red and used from continuous stimulation. gasping, you close your legs tight around his head and keep them there. this hits a new angle, making him dig deeper… and deeper.

you’re wrecked at this point, absolutely helpless and out of control. “stop it.” you whimper, breathing through your sobs.

with that, his hands grip your calves and spread your legs wider than they were before. “s-stop.” you cry out again.

you desperately try to push his head away, but of course, he doesn’t listen. in fact, he pulls you closer to the point where his nose grazes you clit with each stroke and slaps the outside of your thigh.

screaming, you accept your fate and lay there. he’s eating as if he’s never eaten a meal in his life. your whole body loosens, brain dead, and laying there to take it like you were supposed to do. your lower half is so numb that you don’t feel the other orgasm rip through you.

this time, he takes his lips and sucks at your pussy along with your clit. poor you, so useless and crying with your eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. then, your vision goes black; the rest of you becoming limp.

he kisses your puffy cunt before slowly stopping to catch his breath. a string of saliva mixed with your cum connects from his lips before he breaks it by pulling away.

getting up, he wipes his mouth and makes his way to where your face is. he rubs the tears from your cheeks and kisses the corner of your lips softly, whining before he thrusts into the mattress while cumming in his sweats. again.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2 @sturnsjtop @luverboychris @yapperchris @imaslutforoldermen @madisonlovesyouu @poetatorturadaa @chr1sgirl4life @hiimolivia @jo-777 @sturnskiss @st4rgrlll @mattyblover07 @sm-ec @mattluvsmarni @knowingnothingnoel

[inmaki]

gojo making fun of your other fwb

( smut, a little smthn while i work on my nanami fic <3 ) .

"just put it in, for fucks sake."

gojo chuckles, running his mushroom-shaped tip up and down your folds. every time he reaches your hole, he pushes his cock in just enough to breach your entrance, before pulling out and continuing his ministrations. like a fucking idiot.

"aw, y’want my dick that bad? 'need me to fill you up?" what about matsukawa?"

your expression sours, sending him an annoyed look. this was by far the first time he’s brought up his displeasure for your other friend, especially in bed.

“are you trying to make me dry?" you bark, trying to close your legs - which he immediately stops with a large hand. "if you wanna fuck, stop talking about him and hurry."

gojo rolls his eyes, despising the way you're practically defending the fucker. sure, he's just a friend too - but you were clearly his; you've always been addicted his lips against yours, his hands on your body, his cock against your cervix. now this other shithead thinks he can come and take that away?

he doesn't know how to handle it besides-

"is this how he fucks you?" suddenly, he forces only an inch or two inside you, barely thrusting in and out with a mischievous smile. a hum leaves his lips as your insides squeeze him firmly, but he's stubborn enough to hold back the urge to fill you up properly. "probably can’t reach anything, i bet even my fingers are bigger."

the audacity and immaturity of the man in front of you has you baffled. here you are, ready to be fucked into the mattress by him - and all he can do is joke about some other guy's dick length? you desperately want to scold him, tell him to fuck off - but as expected - the feeling of his fat cock not reaching where you need has your mind going blank in desperation.

"please.. just fuck me, toru."

he smirks, and without giving you any time to adjust, he's mercilessly slamming in the rest of his length so the tip presses right up against your womb. his balls smack against you from below, and you shiver at the feeling of his white pubic hair grazing your pelvis. "so i'm right? hah, what a fuckin' loser. 'course he has a small dick."

you're too busy catching your breath to hear him, and gojo smoothly takes that opportunity to throw your legs over his shoulders and press them against your chest, ensuring his cock hits your g-spot at the perfect angle. just how you like it.

the white-haired bastard can't help but smile, licking his lips at your rolled back eyes and the harmonious ah, ah, ah's that escape your throat with each brutal slam of his hips. "becoming my brainless cocksleeve as usual, so damn cute. only i can rearrange these guts, right?" he demands, bending you even further while getting right in your face.

"say it. say who owns this sloppy," thrust, "fucking," thrust, "pussy," thrust.

“you, only you!” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

“who?” he grinds right against your cervix, nearly pressing the tip of his nose against yours.

“sa- satoru!”

he rewards you by lowering a thumb to play with your clit, cerulean eyes staring into your very soul. “damn right. scream it louder.”

suddenly, a quiet ding! comes from your bedside table. gojo glances down to your blissed-out face, cautiously peering over to see a message from none other than the man of of the hour.

matsu: wyd? can i come over?

gojo smiles. typing in a response with one hand while the other keeps your thigh firmly against your chest.

you: yea, be quick daddy ;)

you would definitely kill him after this.

( reblogs & comments r appreciated if u enjoy! had this idea at 2am sorry if it’s bad <\3)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[charlottemorningstarsdarling]

𝕱𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓

Part three of this, but can be read individually:)

Pairing: Alastor x Doe!fem reader

Summary: It’s basically a bunch of snippets of Reader being pregnant (if you would like to read more about it, more scenarios and details, feel free to request!)

Warning: talks of pregnancy(like, a lot), smut, breeding, possessiveness, lactation kink, mentions of birth, etc…

Alastor wasn’t too surprised when a few months after their first mating, her body started changing.

I mean, they were really worked up, all the time. After their first time they stayed in her room and nest for two weeks, barely coming out. Alastor was the one who sent his shadow down to bring them food, a lot of food. He tried to feed her as much as possible.

“You need to eat as much as you can, doe.” He had her favorite pasta, like… a lot of it and he insisted on feeding her himself. So there he was, holding a spoon that was packed with pasta, however she shook her head and pulled away.

“Alastor, I am afraid to gain too much.” Her ears flattened on her head in shame. “What if you won’t find me beautiful? And you won’t want me as your mate anymore…?” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. He gathered her face in his palms, that were as big as her head, he gave her a long kiss on her forehead.

“My darling doe, how could I not find you the most beautiful creature in this world? You’re mine, my mate and my everything. And you are doing the most beautiful things one could do, you’re giving me a little fawn. You’re about to go through pain and discomfort just so we can hold our own in our arms. How could you worry about some extra weight on you?” He knew what calmed her down always, he put her on his lap and leaned her head into his neck, so she could feel his scent more strongly. “You need to nourish your body so you could nourish our baby, your body needs nutrients to produce milk and keep the baby warm.” He rocked her from side to side. That did it. After that, she ate the bigger portions that he gave her.

But, after a bit, it was evident that her weight gain wasn’t due to her eating habits. It was due to the little fawn that was growing inside of her.

Alastor was worried about her, she was not quite herself. She never threw up, but felt nauseous from nearly everything. She also slept whenever and wherever she could. She went to sleep early, woke up late, and still somehow found time to take naps. Husk was actually the one who told Alastor that there could be something up with Y/N. One early afternoon, Husk was cleaning glasses when he saw her out of the corner of his eye, she sat down on the couch with her notebook in hand. He turned away for a second to put the glass back into it’s place, and when he turned back, Y/N was already deeply asleep on the couch.

Alastor was terrified on the inside at first, they finally find each other, only so he could lose her? What if she was sick? He couldn’t bear to see his mate fading away before his very eyes.

All of his worries went away when Y/N got an even bigger appetite for sex than before, they already fucked like rabbits. But now? It didn’t matter where they were or what time it was or what were they doing. No. If his darling wanted to fuck, he would fuck. Luckily, Alastor disliked not having her around the hotel, it was still dangerous for her out there. So, he fucked her on every solid surface in the hotel, with zero shame.

One thing about mates is that after they did their mating, the doe would start picking up certain characteristics from the buck. They noticed the first time when Vaggie pointed it out. Alastor and Charlie were working out plans for the hotel, and of course their partners had to be there for moral support, Vaggie and Y/N were sitting on the cushion in her’s and Charlie’s room, the one that is in front of the huge window. Y/N was staring out the window, completely lost in thought, the other woman snapped her out of her thoughts by gently wrapping her index finger in one of Y/N’s locks.

“This is new, I didn’t know you wanted to dye it, but it suits you.” She smiled, but Y/N looked at her with evident confusion.

“What do you mean?” She tilted her head.

“Your hair?”

“What about it?”

Vaggie only chuckled and led her to Charlie’s vanity, where she held up one strand of Y/N hair, which was… red and with a slight blackish tint at the bottom, along with quite a few locks of her hair.

To the movement, both Alastor and Charlie went to the vanity too.

“Oh. My. GOD!” Charlie shrieked in joy.

“Why, what a pleasant surprise!” He said before noticing that the tip of her ears were also developing a crimson color. He leaned down and started running his finger up and down her ear, causing her to lean into the gentle touch and flatten her ears against her hair.

Weeks went by and the changes became noticeable, Angel Dust immediately planned a brand new wardrobe for her to match the colors of her hair and ears. Even when Alastor had to go into town for business, he always made sure that his Y/N wasn’t alone, it was mostly Angel and Husk who kept her company. It was the situation now, Alastor had to leave for an Overlord meeting, and Y/N was in Angel’s room. He thought it would be a fun activity to have the doe try on his slutty clothes, but she liked it, she felt sexy.

She felt the physical aspects of her change of appearance lately, but she couldn’t make sure.

“Angie, I cannot zip this up! I would hate to ruin it.” She was laughing at herself, she was twirling like a fool, trying to reach for the skirt’s zipper herself, and failing miserably.

Angel pushed himself up from the bed, with a big smile on his face. “Here, let me, that one always gets stuck and I have four arms for a reason!” He tried to make it happen, but something was just in the way. He made her turn around to kneel in front of her, trying to see what was stopping the tiny zipper.

And that is when he saw it…

“HOLY SHIT!” His concentrated eyes changed immediately to surprised ones.

She looked down at him in panic, feeling a sudden pang of guilt, and tears. “What? I ripped it?! I am so so so sor—“

He just stood up laughing and put her in front of the mirror, so she could see herself from the side. She was still feeling sorry about the non existent rip that she didn’t even notice what he was trying to do.

His soft hand came up to her chin, so she could look into his eyes and then he guided her gaze to the mirror. “Y/N, look! There is a reason that the skirt didn’t want to zip up.” His fingers grabbed the bottom of the skirt to pull it lower, revealing her stomach.

Before she even had time to register what was happening, his lower set of arms came up to cup the lower part of her belly, which was slightly swollen.

She was shocked to say the least, but in a happy way. She was still staring at it from the mirror when Angel’s upper arms came to envelop her into a hug.

“Oh, Y/N… You are going to be the best mama, I know it.” After they broke apart from the hug, he lifted one eyebrow. “Sooo… Creepy face fucks good…?”

“…Fuck yeah.” They both started laughing, until Y/N was hit by her pregnancy hormones. One moment she was laughing, she was sobbing the next. Thankfully , Angel stayed with her until Alastor arrived back home. He held her and cried tears of joy with her. He tucked her in with his softest blanket, poor thing needed a nap after shedding so many tears. Fat Nuggets was curled up at her belly, and Angel slept close to her, too. Feeling protective over his best friend who was cooking up something beautiful inside of her.

That explained a lot. Her emotions, her sudden waves of horniness, her constant nausea and tiredness. No wonder all these things were happening to her.

She was expecting a little fawn, her and Alastor’s little fawn. A tiny fruit of their mating.

When Alastor arrived back, he knocked on Angel’s door and the sleepy spider opened it up. He let him in and they both looked at Y/N, who was asleep and cuddling with Fat Nuggets.

“I might just get jealous.” Alastor spoke in a hushed tone, then made her way to her side. He reached under her and gathered her in his arms in bridal style.

After saying farewell to Angel, he took his mate back to their room. He put her in their soft bed and laid beside her, snuggling her into his arms. She woke up when she felt his skin warming hers, this was the perfect opportunity.

“Alastor…?” She whispered, he was looking down at her, admiring his love.

“Hello there, my dear. Had fun with Angel?” He caressed her hair. But she leaned up on her elbows and towered over his side. Her silk nightgown was bigger on her form, so her tiny belly bump wasn’t visible.

“I have something for you…” she smiled, a genuine smile. He chuckled and pushed her strands of hair out of her face, those particular strands were just like his own. It made his primal and possessive self go mad, it was obvious to everyone that she belonged to the radio demon.

He kept looking at her with a love-dazed expression, waiting for her to continue. She pushed the straps of her lacy gown down her shoulders and she started to pull it over her head. “Well, this is certainly a beautiful sight.” His eyes were glued to her boobs.

“I have something better…” She straddled him and kissed him deeply. After a few seconds they were still lost in each other's lips. “I” kiss. “Cannot” kiss. “Wait” kiss. “To fee—“ She pushed her swollen belly into his lower ribs, not harshly, but enough to make him notice. “What is..?” He pulled away and checked her lower stomach, and that was when he saw it.

“My doe…I—“ He palmed her skin, it felt firm, but oh so very soft. His eyes softened and went glassy. His hands could feel the little life inside of her, where their little fawn was nestled into her womb.

He suddenly wrapped her up in his arms and attacked her bump with big smooches. “We did it! You’re carrying our baby, we will have our own baby!”

I think we all know that after Alastor was aware of his doe being pregnant, he practically became her shadow. He followed her everywhere. Helped her with everything, actually… He didn’t help her, he did everything for her.

His protectiveness got on a whole new level. There wasn’t a second of the day when his eyes weren’t on her, or his hands anywhere else but on her skin.

Angel kept his mouth shut, and waited for the two deers to tell everyone the big news, which was a few days after her bump’s appearance. What? They had their own celebrating rounds, multiple of them actually, like… multiple rounds every few hours. They needed each other in their bed and in their arms.

Charlie couldn’t stop crying at the news, she was so happy, she instantly started ordering a shit ton of books about babies. Vaggie was better at hiding her emotions, but she could not stop the smile that etched itself onto her lips, she instantly occupied herself by sharpening her spear. No fawn will ever be harmed on her watch!

As time went by and the bump was clearly evident, Y/N noticed how much others lingered in her presence. Vaggie was looking out for any danger. Charlie always talked to the baby and touched Y/N’s stomach. Angel couldn’t help but buy everything baby-related that he found cute. “What? It is my duty as Uncle Dust to make sure the fawn is a fashion icon from day one.” He said one day when he knocked on the deers shared room, with all of his hands full with shopping bags. Sir Pentious and Cherri were always lingering with Vaggie, their main priorities were protection. Pentious also made his egg bois baby-proof every surface.

They went to Cannibal town to pay a visit to one of Alastor’s dearest friends, Rosie. Y/N was wearing a dress that was tight around her boobs, but flowy at her belly. They made their way to her shop and it was so heartwarming to see the cannibal woman’s smile light up at the sight of them. She instantly ushered the crowd away to take a closer look.

“Oh Alastor! I don’t see you for a few weeks and you bring such a beautiful young lady to me?” Rosie caressed the doe’s cheeks with her manicured fingers. “I’m Rosie, and, oh… My, my. What a beauty you are! I see you two have grown quite accustomed to each other.” She noticed their similar features. Rosie suddenly opened her arms to envelop Y/N in a hug. “Come, come, darl—“ Of course, there was the bump. Her mouth dropped open and her fingers shot up to her lips. (Imagine her facial expressions in the Overlord meeting scenes here haha) “Oh, my darling. Congratulations!” Her hands were immediately all over her tummy. She ushered the pair to sit down., especially Y/N. “Sit down, dearie, you must be exhausted. Carrying that belly all the time.”

They talked and talked. Then Alastor revealed the reason for their visit.

“Rosie, me and my darling talked. And we decided that we would be honored if you could help Y/N deliver our fawn.” Rosie had helped many women through births, so Alastor knew that Y/N and the baby would be in the best possible hands. Who would have guessed that a cannibal could be the perfect midwife?

“I would be the one honored. Of course, I’ll help!” She wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to cup her tummy, while leaning closer to her. “We will get that baby out in no time!” After Rosie explaining everything she could about bringing a baby into the world.

If Alastor really couldn’t be around, it was Husk who was around Y/N. One time, Alastor had to discuss business with Carmilla and at the same time a very pregnant Y/N demanded a walk. So, Husk went with her, but not before he made her a sugary non-alcoholic drink that could keep up her energy. On the walk, Husk had one of his wings around her, shielding her and the precious belly from any harm. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement, especially when he felt a little kick against his wing at her belly, it made him get more attached to that little hellspawn. Of course he had a pocket full of his weapon like cards. You know, just in case.

Alastor knew that he was truly in love with his sweet mate, who was carrying his baby under her heart wherever she went. His favorite part of everyday was the hours before they went to sleep. They went back to their room every late afternoon, which consisted of her getting fluffed into the best silky pillows he could find, and him laying his head on her belly. Nothing calmed him down more than feeling his doe’s skin on his cheek and hearing the little movements of his baby.

Y/N was excited and nervous as fuck at the same time. Alastor noticed it, of course. When they went to sleep, his ears perked up to the sound of her constant tossing and turning. He gathered her face into his hands. “What’s wrong, little doe? Anything hurt? Is the fawn kicking up a storm again?” He smiled gently at her.

“What if something happens during the birth?”

He kissed her face, there wasn’t an inch of her skin that his lips haven’t touched..

“Everything will be okay, my doe. You are strong, I know that you are. You will push through it, and you will recover.” She pulled away and sat up on her knees.

“You don’t understand, Alastor. I don’t care about myself. The baby is who I’m worried about, it is all I can think about.” She was getting herself worked up, while Alastor started to bite back a smirk. She didn’t notice the change of her form. “But one thing I know… I would f̸͔̘͚͉̀͗̍̾́͜u̷͇̞̦̻̮͆̈́͐͛̓c̷̮̥̙͇͗̋̃͘͠ͅḱ̷̟͍͎͔̖͗͋̐́ǐ̵̡̙̼̼̻̈́̍͝n̵̜͖̠̰͎̊͋͊̋͛g̴̦̥̜̜͍͂͂̀̀̔ ̷̤̖͕̬̹͆̈́̐̏d̷̡̧̺̦͕̾̓̃́̅ì̵̙̼̖̯̈͒͐̽ͅé̴̱͎͇̫̝̂́̈́͊ ̴͉̩̜̼̞̏́̽̍͝f̷̭͓̬̘̠̓̔͗́̀ǫ̵̖̤̬̭̾́̀̒͝r̷͎̤̬̦̞̎́̓͆̚ ̸̹͍̭̖͚̄̄̈́̏̄ȍ̷̱͔͉̠̲̆͛̀̿ȗ̸̡͍̮͍̞̀̋̈͂r̶̛̘͍̟̜̮͒̎̑̈́ ̶̜͕̼̝̓̾͊͛͘ͅf̴̨̤͙̰͇͋̓̿̐̕ȁ̸͔̹̯̲̗̅̉͂̽ẘ̸̥͙͔̠͎̊͗̓̚n̵̡̯͎̝͓̽͊̒̉̀.̸̱͓̺͍̔̑̑̿̏ͅ”

Her voice went static, like his does. Her limbs became longer and her eyes went red. Even with her demonic form, her belly still poked out. He sat up and grabbed her face, suddenly pulling her into a passionate kiss. She instantly went back to her proper form, kissing him with nearly twice as much passion. She straddled his lap, already grinding against his hard on, while his claws ripped her nightgown. “God, you make me fucking crazy.” He said while she grabbed a hold of his pajama button up and ripped it apart, sending buttons to fly everywhere. By the time his mind had acknowledged it, she was already taking out his leaking hard cock out of his underwear.

His sharp teeth kept on nibbling all around her neck. “Not a bad form, my doe, becoming too much like your mate?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t think it really bothers you, does it?” Her hands wrapped around his erection, feeling how hard he got from the sight of her, and lining it up with her entrance.

“Oh—How could it bother me? My mate, forming into a demon before my eyes, with a big belly. Don’t worry, you looked so very sexy… I just want to…” He grabbed a hold of her wider hips and pulled her down onto his cock. “Fuck you so hard that I knock you up again.. You look so amazing, I can finally grip you properly.” His nails nearly broke the skin on her hips.

She was riding him as if her life was depending on it, swirling her hips and bouncing up and down. He started pounding up into her, meeting her thrusts, feeling the deepest parts of her. He noticed her nipples beginning to lactate, so he latched his lips onto her, sucking harshly. She was surprised when he did that, but moaned with a deep voice. It was so intimate, it also made him fuck up into her way harder than before.

“You’re so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He felt her orgasming around him, so he filled her up with his seed. She fell against his chest, heaving and tired.

He started caressing her back. “Good girl. You’re so good to me… Taking care of me so nicely, while holding our fawn within your womb.” He leaned his head on the top of hers, enjoying the way her soft ears made his skin tingle.

“You’re going to be the best mother, my love.”

Still no fawn! Don’t worry, there will be more, I just went overboard and I felt like Reader giving birth in this would have made it too long:)

Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee @littlekacchan @sugurubabe @captainfia @alastorssimp @iheartalastor @speedycoffeedelight @1o-o

[pomefioredove]

Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.

Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.

ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk

summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts

If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.

Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.

"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.

"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.

You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"

Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"And our winner is..."

First Year's Ending

"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."

The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.

Everyone else is staring daggers at them.

Vil is the first to speak. "How?"

"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.

"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."

Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"

The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:

"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.

"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."

Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"

"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."

The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.

"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"

Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"

Riddle's Ending

"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.

It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.

Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.

And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.

"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"

"Nervous," you admit.

Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"

You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.

"Is he?"

"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."

You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"

"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"

Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.

For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.

Ruggie's Ending

"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."

Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.

"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"

The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.

"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"

"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."

Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"

Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.

"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"

"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"

Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"

"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."

"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"

---

Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.

Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.

Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"

Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.

"So... what's wrong?"

"Hm?"

"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."

"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."

The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.

"Well, I hope not,"

He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"

"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."

A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"

Octotrio's Ending

"Azul Ashengrotto!"

Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.

Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.

"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.

"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."

Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.

---

Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.

Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.

"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.

"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"

The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"

"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"

Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.

Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"

"Thank you,"

"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.

Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"

"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"

"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"

You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"

Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"

You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"

Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.

"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.

Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"

Floyd and Azul groan in unison.

Jamil's Kalim's Ending

"Kalim al-Asim!"

Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.

"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"

Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.

Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.

Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.

"Wh-"

The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.

"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"

Your eyes widen. "You- you-"

You breathe a sigh of relief.

Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.

Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.

Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.

"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"

He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.

"Grim!" You whisper-shout.

"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.

Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"

You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.

"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."

"It could be worse,"

"Much worse," he agrees.

A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.

"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."

You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.

"...Thank you, Jamil,"

Vil's Ending

"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."

Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.

Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.

After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.

"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."

Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.

"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"

"You really don't have to..."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"

A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.

He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.

"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.

"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"

Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.

The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.

Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.

"Come here. I need to have a look,"

You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"

He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.

Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"

Good Ending

"And our winner is... M-"

"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.

"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"

"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"

"Well I- I-"

"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."

Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"

"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"

The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.

Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"

"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."

"But-"

"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."

---

A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.

Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.

"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."

Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"

"No- wait, canceled?"

"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."

Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"

[021reid]

Please ? | Spencer Reid

summary: reader wants spencer to take her virginity.

CW: inexperienced!reader , shy-ish reader , reader gets came on , 18+ (if i’m missing anything lmk)

word count: 860 words

you and spencer have been dating for 4 months now. the last four months have been filled with date nights every sunday (when he wasn’t away) and endless flirting and teasing no matter what was happening around you guys.

but you were craving more.

you and spencer have had heated makeouts and even a little dry humping every now and then but nothing ever came out of it.

so now here you were sitting on spencer’s bed with a nervous look on your face.

“spence..can we talk?” you start regretting your words when you see him sit up with a look of concern and fear on his face.

“did i do something wrong honey?” it’s almost as if you can hear the gears shifting in his mind and you quickly shake your head to make them shut up.

“no i just…why won’t you have sex with me?” you notice the deep breath he takes and relief in his eyes.

“are you ready for sex?” it was no secret to spencer that you were inexperienced and you probably would run away if he even tried to unbutton your pants.

“i think? i don’t know i’m just really horny and i can’t keep cumming from just your thighs.” a smile appears on his face and he grabs your waist sitting you on his lap and whispering in your ear.

“well how about we fix that then baby?” you hold back a whimper and pull him in for a kiss, slowly moving back and fourth on his lap.

“can i take these off?” he puts a finger on the waistband of your shorts and you nod your head. he unbuttons your pants and slides them off you with a little of your help.

he can’t tear his eyes away from your white lacy panties with small bows on the sides.

“you’re so beautiful baby” he rubs your cunt through your panties and you swear you could cum from just that alone.

“fuck..spence i need more.” you kiss him again this time tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. you move down to his pants and unbutton them, pausing when you feel his print.

spencer slides down his pants more and takes out his cock.

your jaw dropped.

he had to be atleast 8 and a half inches and you were even debating that.

“can that fit in me?” you say still shocked and stunned by his size.

“we can make it fit honey.” he tugs at your shirt and you shake your head. your not ready to be fully naked yet and he understands.

“lay down for me baby.” you move to the other side of his bed and rest your head on the nearest pillow. he kisses your thighs and makes his way up to your cunt, kissing all around it only making you grow wetter and wetter.

“please spence i can’t wait anymore.” he laughs at your eagerness and pulls down your panties. he stares at you in awe which makes you close your legs and push him slightly.

“stop staring at me like that..” he kisses your cheek and pulls your panties off.

“you’re so pretty sweetheart. every part of you.” he rubs your heat and you moan with every movement. he inserts his pointer finger and curls it which causes you to moan and arch your back.

“fuck..put another one in please.” he inserts his middle finger and waits for you to calm down before he starts moving them both at a slow pace. you’re a moaning mess and you’ve never wanted to come so bad.

“fuck if you keep doing that i’m gonna cum.” he laughs and takes out his fingers which causes you to pout.

“i don’t want you to come yet baby” he reaches over for a condom and puts it on.

“tell me if you wanna stop okay baby?” you nod and moan when you feel him rub his tip over your heat.

“fuck please just put it in.” he slowly inserts every inch into you moaning between each inch just from how warm your heat is. all that fills the room is your heavy breathing.

once he bottoms out he starts to move slowly. you moan with every thrust and your hands find their way to his long curly hair slightly tugging at it.

“go faster please, i can handle it.” his movements speed up and you can feel your orgasm approaching. the sounds of his quiet whimpers and your skin slapping against eachother becomes louder with every thrust.

“i’m so close y/n” his legs start to shake under you and his movements get faster causing you to let out a loud moan and your back to arch off the bed as your orgasm hits you.

not long after you feel spencer’s cock twitch inside you and his movements start to slow.

you both sit there for about 10 minutes trying to catch your breath.

“that was really good” you say, slurring your words. he smiles and pulls out of you slowly, handing you a bottle of water from the nightstand.

“i love you so much y/n.” he pampers your face in kisses and you both giggle until you both fall asleep, happy and inlove.

i’m not good at writing smut so tell me how it is 🌚 don’t forget to check out my masterlist !

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you ever plan on continuing the Adoptive Son Au?

This wasn't just a mission anymore.

Dick lays perfectly still, staring up at Crowne's bedroom ceiling. Besides him, Crowne is found asleep, and his soft puffs of breath are the only sound to be heard in the room. As always, the other man is curled up facing the wall, one fist under his cheek and the other clutched to the warm set of blankets.

It's something Dick noticed the first night he slept over.

Awake Crowene took up so much space with his commanding aura, steadily leading his team into the future like a king upon a throne—as if he were larger than life.

Asleep, Crowne seemed to grow smaller, a shocking reminder that for all he's accomplished, he too was only eighteen like Dick.

His face softened, and the invisible weight that seemed to be resting on Crowne's shoulders vanished once he slumbered. It surprised Dick, the first time he watched him sleep, to see how gentle the man could be. How innocent he appeared.

It was a reminder of how inexperienced Crowne was regarding relationships.

The mission had gone on longer than he'd ever planned it to. Dick was worried about how far he was going to go with the honey pot aspect, even with his suggestive comments and more daring flirtations. None of his other missions have gotten so far, always stopping at a few cuddles and kisses.

Thankfully, Crowne hesitated to go further. He had agreed to the hotel room, leaving Drake with Nancy for the night, and as Dick was desperately trying to think of an escape as they climbed up to the room, Crowne had grown more and more angsty.

They had kissed against the door and stumbled their way to the bed with heated breaths and whispered moans, but when they actually landed on the hotel bed, Crowne had sprung away. He had burst into tears, shamefully admitting he wasn't ready.

Dick had been so grateful for the out as he gathered Crowne into his arms and promised to wait till the time was right. He would wait until the CEO was ready, wiping away tears and kissing his cheeks dry.

He gave himself more time by admitting he also didn't feel comfortable moving forward yet, and Crowne looked at him with such tenderness Dick forgot about the mission for only a minute.

Instead, the two somehow ended up chatting the night away, lying side by side, whispering to each other against the pillows. None of what they spoke about was useful for the mission, and yet he found himself holding the little facts about Crowne close to his heart anyway.

He learned about Crowne's insecurities, some of the bullying he endured as a kid, the loving parents he missed, and the sister he lost. He even spoke about his fear of failing Drake or the rest of the people at his company who depended on him, how sometimes that fear of failure would creep in and freeze him in place.

In turn, Dick found himself talking of the circus, whispering what he missed and what life was like before his parent's death.

He shared his role as team leader—though not what the team was—and how sometimes he felt like he was still attempting to find his place in everyone's lives. Shockingly, he even admitted that he feared Bruce would never see him as soon, hiding his tears in Crowne's neck as he pushed out the words.

He never opened up to anyone like that, which terrified him of how far he may have lost himself within the lie.

They fell asleep together that night, curling around each other fully clothed, and it was far more intimate than anything he had ever done with anyone else.

The following day Dick had been able to spot love in Crowne's eyes whenever he looked at him. It made him sick. He tried to not make too much eye contact following this, for they had yet to find the missing children, and he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the devotion of a man he was playing for information.

Now, four months after they agreed to go slow, he slept on the right side of Crowne's bed, which had become his side, watching the snow gently fall outside the window of the new house Crowne had purchased. The mission had far surpassed the expected wait time, as Christmas was quickly approaching, and Crowne had made comments of spending it at Wayne mannor.

He had seen a shopping list with Bruce, Jason, Damian, and even Alfred's names on Crowne's desk, and a couple of gift ideas were written next to them. Because he knew that to Dick, they were his family, and he wanted to make a good impression on them.

The mission had begun in spring, but Dick couldn't find a way to untangle himself from Crowne. He had been heavily involved in the gym Crowne was setting up with Drake, seeing that he adored possibly being a gymnastics teacher more than he ever planned.

Bruce occasionally commented that he shouldn't let himself be swept away by the lie.

He knew the truth.

This domestic bliss he was spending with Crowne was an illusion. It was bound to burst the day they found what they were looking for, but by the gods, Dick honestly thought they were wrong.

They had to be.

Crowne's mysterious rise to power, extortionary science, brilliant business mind, and unexplained funds all pointed to darker, evil intentions.

But Danny? The man's eyes soften by children's laughter. He made silly puns when he wanted to cheer up Dick. He curled around Dick, holding him through nightmares and never asking what they were about.

Danny stepped up for Tim Drake and gave him a home when all signs clearly pointed to the Drakes neglecting their son. Danny was the one who anonymously paid off medical debt, asking nothing in return, not even acknowledgment. Danny was the one who could name all the stars in the sky, yet looked sad when staring upwards.

Danny was the one Dick was in love with, but Danny was also Crowne, and the Bats were gunning to lock him up for the rest of his life.

It tore him to pieces, but Dick pushed himself out of the warm bed. He patted his way to the boxes that still needed to be unpacked. He was the one to convince Danny to buy a house outside the city, knowing the man wouldn't bother to pack appropriately.

This meant he would likely carelessly throw evidence into random boxes—the evidence he needed to finally put him away.

He looked over his shoulder to ensure the other was still sleeping before going through the items. He went through the first five without finding anything, angry at himself for feeling relief until he came across the last box.

Inside were notebooks.

Some date back to the first year Danny was adopted by the Crownes. There were systematic experiments and notes on the portal making, but the worst of all were the files.

Files of the street kids he had moved. With each page turned, Dick found profiles of the kids, where they were found, what they were going through, how they were taken, and where they were placed. There were even several phone numbers of social workers who helped him move the kids about.

A leger of the trafficking ring. All were written in Danny's handwriting. It was a lie, Dick knew, but it was still devastating to realize how evil the darkness within Crowne indeed was.

The very last thing in the box was an engraved ring with Richard Grason on the inside, sitting inside an elegant ring box.

Dick felt sick as he reached up to his earpiece pressing it three times. Bruce picked up with a soft greeting that quickly turned to worry when Dicked choked out through his tears.

"We got him."

[kafkasmuses]

KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons. 

tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader) 

a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs

thirty minutes ago. 

art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you. 

art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time. 

“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.” 

ahem. 

you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression. 

you blink at him, once, twice. 

a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.” 

it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him. 

and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better. 

you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“  

“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.

he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint. 

your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement. 

maybe silence will earn points back from your coach. 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

silence did not earn anything. 

art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up. 

the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.” 

“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it. 

if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first. 

he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?” 

“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.” 

art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing. 

to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.” 

you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back. 

smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.” 

he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?” 

ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him. 

and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

art said he forgave you, right? 

ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.” 

“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you. 

“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind. 

“whatever helps,” you remark. 

“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle. 

once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.” 

eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable. 

“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?” 

you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.” 

“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.” 

“with tennis?” 

“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.” 

𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾

you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you. 

“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds. 

yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really. 

“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet. 

he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors. 

“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before. 

“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually. 

“like your wife?” 

“like you.” 

art corrected you. 

he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well. 

the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe. 

at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose. 

“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty? 

gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy. 

“what?” you frown, confused. 

“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing. 

“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple. 

“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?” 

“what do you mean?” 

art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“ 

“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours. 

“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..” 

“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.” 

“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now. 

“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?” 

you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you. 

when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying. 

he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.” 

“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin. 

he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.” 

“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to. 

“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath. 

“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness. 

“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?” 

“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part. 

“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.” 

he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks. 

soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him. 

he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. 

“ready?” he hushes out. 

“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already. 

“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more. 

his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well. 

sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas. 

“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches. 

in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm. 

he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.” 

[dottedsilktie]

Spring cleaning

Nanami Kento is the perfect man. At least, he would be if he wasn't so hellbent on dragging you into his maddening cleaning routine. Luckily, he knows just how to get you on board. cw : tooth-rotting fluff ! a little suggestive if you squint

You used to be partial to spring, looking forward to the last days of March when the prospect of warmer days thawed the chilly remnants of winter. Then you met Kento, and spring was no longer associated with flowers in bloom and sunny days ahead. Ever since you moved in together, you started dreading the last two weeks of March. 

Kento had a peculiar way of welcoming the new season and it involved a day of thorough and almost debilitating spring cleaning. The first time he told you about it, you waved off his detailed plan for the day as a joke. Now, years later, you still cower at the thought of the back-breaking, mind-numbing and, quite frankly, infuriating cleaning programme he puts together every year to test your patience.

You've tried everything to get out of it - faking an illness, 'inadvertently' scheduling a conflicting business trip, crying and grovelling at his feet - but nothing worked. So you've come to accept your fate and gave up on throwing a tantrum first thing in the morning when your alarm rang at 6 AM sharp on that dreaded day. Kento was already out of bed, probably gearing up for a long day of power raking the yard and getting off on it. You were almost tempted to snooze it but you knew he would just slither in your room and snatch you out of bed himself. So you steeled yourself to get up, get ready and get cleaning. Kento was waiting for you in the kitchen, brows furrowed and deep in thought as he went over the printed plan he'd stuck on the fridge. He barely acknowledges you when you croak out a hoarse 'good morning' and kiss his cheek, only humming and squeezing your waist in passing. A glance at the plan he perused was enough to send shivers down your spine : it involved raking, watering, trimming everything in the garden, followed by never-ending laundry and finally channelling Kento’s Marie Kondo obsession to sort through your closets and get rid of enough junk to appease his vendetta against unworn clothes.

Once you settle on your high chair in front of the marble countertop,  Kento pushes a cup of coffee towards you, and when you wrinkle your nose at the uncharacteristically potent smell, he explains with a small smile, “Blond roast ristretto - you’re going to need it, darling ” before kissing your forehead and standing up to his full height in front of you. 

You just stare at each other for a while - you sipping the sewer water he called a coffee, and him shooting you a sharp scrutinising glare that’d have you squirming the right way any other day. “You are usually quicker than this, almost feels like you’re stalling for time”, he observes with the slightest amused upwards twitch of his mouth. God why must a man this handsome be so insufferable. “Just savouring the exquisite coffee my darling husband made for me, is that wrong ?”, you retort, tone dripping with sarcasm that only makes his smile wider.  You think you might just be able to charm and laugh your way out of this but he’s quick to pinch your nose to distract you and snatch your mug from your hands, fine blond brows quirked and rosy lips stretched in boyish mirth. He doesn’t have to reprimand you, you’re already raising your hands in defeat, mumbling in a tone nothing short of dejected, “Okay, okay – no need to get handsy,  it’s not easy giving up on my freedom”. To drive your point home, you make a show out of slowly sliding off your high chair, hissing and groaning as you stretch your arms over your head and crack your knuckles right under Kento’s nose. “I’m not fit for these things, Kento - every time I move I feel my body cracking and all, I’m not made for physical labour”.

He listens intently, amusement shifting into mild concern as his hangdog gaze dart between your cup that he rinses off and the pathetic stretching routine you’re performing. Kento moves to dry his hands on a kitchen towel before cupping your cheeks. His amber eyes are so soft and he looks at you with a fondness so genuine, so poignant you’re sure he’s going to let you off the hook. You inch even closer to victory when he bends down to brush the tip of his nose against yours and ghost chaste kisses along your cheeks, your jaw, then your temples. He stays like that for a while, one hand at your nape brushing the delicate hair there, the other cradling your face and rubbing soothing circles against your heated skin.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers right into your ear, his voice smooth and comforting, then he’s back to peppering your temple and cheek with small pecks that make you melt against him. “It’s fine, I know you wouldn’t want to put me through that now that you see just how bad it’d be for me to — " “I’m sorry that you thought this would be a convincing performance”, he cuts you off, biting down on your earlobe, making you gasp at the unexpected nip of his sharp teeth against your sensitive skin.

He pulls back to appreciate how your pretty face contorts in fluster, then surprise, before twisting in an angry pout. You’re gnawing at your bottom lip, arms crossed over your chest, truly defeated this time and the shame of being played only adds to your growing irritation. “My petulant little thespian is at her wits’ end”, he taunts you in a singsong voice, his usually inflectionless baritone voice sounding uncharacteristically chipper. You stare at your feet with the vexed mortification of a child caught red-handed and Kento has to hook a finger under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“Do a good job cleaning today and I might just help you work out those aches that make you ‘unfit’, mmh ?”, he offers, the swift flicker of his gaze between your eyes and your lips sullying the apparent innocence of his offer. He doesn’t give you time to answer as he brushes past you, a smug smile playing on his lips, and you all but scurry out of the kitchen, hot on his heels and bursting with energy. Needless to say, the house is spotless by the end of the day, your assigned chores crossed off at record speed.

can you tell i love domestic kento

[letsquestjess]

One, Two, Throw (Hunter x F!Reader)

Summary: You look incredible throwing Hunter's knives, and he decides to show you just how irresistible you are.

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: Smut! 18+! MDNI! Fingering. It's Hunter-is-horny hour!

A/N: This is my first time writing smut and I'm a little torn between feeling proud and wanting to hide in a corner. Anyways, if people enjoy it, I'm down for writing some more.

-- -- -- -- --

“There you go,” Hunter encouraged, his touch on your waist warm and reassuring. His breath ghosted your nape as he leaned close to your ear. “Concentrate on the target and visualise it landing where you want to hit. Feel the weight of the knife, the way it balances in your hand.”

“If there was an enemy in front of me, they’d have got me by now,” you chuckled, glancing over your shoulder to offer him a mischievous smirk. “I know what to do, we’ve been doing this for hours.” 

With an amused glimmer in the flinty brown of his eyes, he stepped back and signalled for you to proceed. He had to admit there was a certain charm to witnessing your determination. You had a particular look in your eyes, a fire that didn’t burn or destroy, but kindled the very core of who you were, and it brought him an indescribable joy.

You returned to the target as you shuffled your feet in the grit and lifted the weapon. Your stare lingered on the silhouette framed by the shrubbery of the back garden. Scratches and dints marred the pale outline, hitting almost every place other than the one you wanted. You’d even managed to land a strike on the groin, which had earned you an instinctive wince from the sergeant. 

“Don’t strangle the knife,” Hunter cautioned as you were about to make your shot. “It needs to move.” 

Coughing pointedly, you rolled your shoulders. Hilt over blade, it rotated and revolved until lodging itself into the wood inches from your intended destination with a deliberate twang. You let out an irritated huff. 

“Keep trying,” Hunter said. “You’re getting better.”

“Seems like I’m getting worse.”

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

As you recovered the knife, you granted him a firm nod and a warm grin.

Again and again you tried, each attempt glancing off the edge or striking a non-fatal spot. It felt as though you would never take it down. Despite any doubts, Hunter’s constant reassurances kept your confidence from faltering. 

He asked a couple of times if you wanted to stop, but you adamantly refused. After all, you had suggested this to experience his world before he chose to settle down, and you were starting to understand him more. 

He rarely spoke about the hardships he and his brothers faced during the war or the difficulties he encountered after Order 66. As curious as you were, you didn’t want to pry. Although you had been dating for over a year, you understood that lightly encouraging him to talk was more effective than poking at his past. 

Hunter observed you with the intensity of a hawk, studying your posture, your fortitude, your concentration. By the stars, you looked amazing with a vibroblade in your grasp, staring down that wooden silhouette. Every time you squared your stance and locked onto your target, a flood of adrenaline travelled up his spine and exploded with anticipation as you unleashed your shot. In his ravenous gaze, you were magnificent. 

Sneaking closer, he inched his hands over your waist as you readied yourself for your next attempt. His lips swept behind your ear, planting a trail of kisses on your exposed skin. 

“Want to offer more tips?” you asked. 

He shook his head against your neck and continued his ministrations.

“I see, you’re trying to throw me off,” you figured. 

“In dangerous situations, there will always be distractions,” Hunter reasoned, his hips pressing into your rear and his enjoyment of the situation immediately becoming apparent. “You need to be able to block them out.” 

“Oh, so the enemy will be getting up close and personal.” You gave him a tantalising, raised eyebrow, almost bordering on mean, the sultry lilt in your tone even more so. “Is that what you meant, sergeant?” 

As if in a blur, he swiftly disarmed you, snatching the knife from your grasp and launching it. The vibroblade quivered in the chest of the wooden target.

Before you could catch your breath, he twirled you round and lifted you up, balancing you in his arms and latching his lips onto yours as he strode with purpose back into the cottage.  

Your hands found purchase in his hair as he nudged open the bedroom door and lay you down on the bed.

“Such a tease,” he murmured, breaths intermingling between kisses.

His mouth moved slow and deep, savouring the scent of you and your mounting arousal as his tongue explored your lower lip and slid inside. Tasting him like this had you tilting your hips, and he let out a low chuckle as he guided them back onto the fluffy bedspread.

“Hunter,” you groaned. 

“Do you have any idea how good you look with a knife in your hands? Never seen anything so tempting.” 

When you searched his eyes, you found nothing but pure devotion in them, an unyielding desire to be by your side for as long as time allowed. 

“You never gave up,” he continued, undressing you languidly and lavishing any stretch of skin he exposed. “I’m proud of you. You stood there, determined. Fucking incredible.” 

His kisses grew hungry as he finished unclothing you and discarded his own clothes, throwing them behind him with reckless abandon. He’d clean them up later. For now, all he craved was you. 

You smoothed his dark waves from in front of his face as he climbed back up to your lips. He slid his fingers between your breasts, massaging and playing with each in turn before he trailed lower. To say he was skilled with his hands would be an understatement; his caresses were gentle yet firm, creating masterpieces of bliss on your skin. With every inch of contact, your breath caught in your throat, a soldier’s hands but a loving touch, and a silent ‘I love you’ lingering within. 

Need gripped you and your nails dragged down the ridges of his chest and abdomen, lifting your hips to get him to explore the one place that ached for his talents. This time, he skipped the teasing and dipped a finger into the wetness between your legs, finding his way to your clit. With each circle he traced, he delighted in the enticing sounds you made, grinning mischievously as you pulled away to gasp, your head pressed against the pillows. 

When he gently slipped a finger inside you, your whimpers became moans. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold back from begging him for more, but you did your best. You knew how he loved making you feel good and working you up for him, and you wanted to let him have this. 

Hunter soothed the dip of your brow with a tender press of his lips, gazing at you as though you provided him with the air he breathed. He’d never tire of seeing you like this, sweat dappling your skin, body lifting and falling with each wave of pleasure. He craved to etch this view behind his eyelids to look at whenever he closed his eyes. “That’s it,” he whispered, spurring your rising bliss with another finger. 

“I need…” You swallowed and released a purposeful breath. 

“Tell me, sweetest,” Hunter cooed. “What do you need?” 

His fingers worked their way in and out while his thumb circled your clit. Your core lit up and your hips chased the motion. You couldn’t stop it, even if you tried, and this time, he didn’t ease you back down with a steady hand. He let you grind against him, hunting that sensation only he provided as his hard desire pressed against your abdomen. 

“Need you,” you whined. You brought him down for another kiss, determined for him to devour every single one of your senses. 

“All in good time.” He curled his fingers and brushed that particular spot that had you panting and squeezing your eyes shut while his other hand prowled up and down your body in slow, deliberate caresses. His kisses turned feverish before his teeth nibbled at your throat and a rumble purred in his own. 

He could smell you, you realised, the scent of your pleasure only heightening his own desire to sink into you. 

The hunger within you built as he quickened his pace and your climax thundered ever closer. “Hunter, I…” you breathed. “I’m so…”

“Can feel it,” he practically growled into your neck as your pussy clutched onto him, the tip of his nose brushing yours with every thrust of his fingers. “Let go. I’ve got you.” 

That was all you needed, those three words spoken with such security and tenderness, and the tightening coil in your core snapped. White hot seared through your veins and covered your body in pure bliss as he coaxed you through your high. As your pleasure reached its highest point, you gave a soft groan, your nails digging into his shoulders to ground you. 

Hunter kept you afloat, his movements inside you slowing. He hushed your whimpers and kissed the corner of your lips as you panted. “That’s my girl. You good?”

“Better than good,” you managed to get out. “Maybe I should practice knife throwing more often.” 

You smirked at the muffled vibration in Hunter’s throat as his eyes fluttered shut, and you could almost see the image of yourself wielding his knives imprinting on his mind. 

“Later,” he assured you. “We’re nowhere near done here yet.” 

I'm going to start a separate NSFW taglist since I know that it's not for everyone. If you would like to be added, feel free to send me a message.

[notyetjae]

Pregnancy headcanons <3

an | this is a bit old lol

Price

You were restless throughout your entire 3rd trimester. John thought it was nesting.. but it didn’t stop.

At first he let it excused it, even helped you endlessly rearrange furniture and clean the places you couldn’t.

It was when he caught you near midnight cleaning past exhaustion that he had to put a stop to it.

He cooked you favorite meals, brewed some tea and adjusted it exactly to your liking, then he caught you at dawn, before you could get even crawl out of bed.

And when you waddled back to the kitchen with dishes in hand? He let out an loving (annoyed) sigh and grabbed the soap and sponge from your reach, you were ready to snatch it from his when—

“Fuck.”

Liquid trickled down your leg and while a part of you wished it was pee, you knew it was go time.

He jumped right into action, faster than you could process, suddenly you were sitting on your kitchen island as he put your crocs on for you.

John contemplated carrying you to the car, but he wanted to save himself the ear full.

He tries to hide his nervousness, he’s uttering praises the whole time, his hands almost never leave you,

“You’re alright, love” “Deep breathes, just copy me, okay?” “I’m right here.”

So by the time you’re in the hospital, your not sure if you want to yell at him or melt into arms. He’s there the whole way, he’s the first to hold your sweet baby girl and he looks at her as if he holds the universe itself in his hands.

Soap

He is PUMPED.

I think he’s more excited than you.

You will have to drag him from the baby isle of stores.

Dad jokes increase ten fold.

You had a fairly normal pregnancy, but you know how some fathers mirror their partners symptoms when they’re pregnant? That’s him.

He cries with you- like a lot. Your back hurts? So does his, he’ll give you a massage and you return the favor.

Craving something? Ordered it 10 minutes ago.

When your heightened smell picks up on something you both turn and stare at each other with a disgusted expression.

The day you gave birth he was.. off. Like he wasn’t in sync with you.

You we’re doing some last minute changes in the nurse, atop a step ladder as you shifted a painting. Suddenly, your foot slips but your able to catch your balance.

You swear your heart stopped for moment, so you take it as a sign to your ass down. Just as you climb down you realize your standing in a puddle of water?

“Johnny!” You shout, he basically crashes into the room, his eyes widened as he scans you for anything out of the ordinary.

The definition of organized chaos.

He’s running around the house grabbing last minute shit he think you might need, and after fighting with your shoes for 5 minutes he just tosses them into the backpack and scoops you up.

He is so patient with you and the nurses, despite the adrenaline flooding his veins he’s calm and entirely focused on you.

The nurses try to hand your son to him first but he ushers them to pass him over to you instead, he bathes in the warmth your smile emits.

[hottestvirgin]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 | 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍

what started with matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder lead to countless weekend nights of sneaking into his bedroom.

warnings(17+). mentions of anton and sex.

it wasn’t supposed to happen. you had tried to convince yourself that a million times til’ it started sounding like a broken record. matching with your best friend’s older brother on tinder wasn’t supposed to happen, and it was not coincidental.

you had created a tinder account just to see what type of men you’d realistically be able to pull and after a few swipes, left and right, you and wonbin have liked each other.

you and him were a match. your stomach churned when realization hit, staring at his profile in shock.

well.. it was him. his name printed brightly on your screen with his age next to it. that same fine, blonde-haired man in the pictures who had a few of his interests listed down below. shopping, guitar, dancing.

you had wondered if his thumb hovered over the send a message icon like yours had that night. you’ve always found wonbin attractive, physically and his personality.

but a part of you felt guilty every time anton came into mind when you’d think about your feelings for wonbin. how would you even be able to explain that you matched with his brother on tinder.. or that you were on tinder in the first place.

but that lingering thought didn’t seem to go far because you both ended up clicking the button and began chatting, bonding over the mere coincidence of you both finding each other on a dating app.

and ever since that night, you’ve been hooking up with him. it was hard going to the brothers’ shared apartment just for wonbin, so you had made a routine.

weekly hangouts. meaning you and anton would watch movies or play games every weekend until he fell asleep, and you’d sneak into wonbin’s bedroom.

you felt the couch dip next to you, “don’t eat up all the popcorn.” anton told you, sitting criss-crossed as he playfully snatched the bowl of popcorn from your arms.

“then pee faster next time.” you told him, clicking play on the horror movie you both had started earlier.

it was getting late and as time continued to pass, you could sense anton’s tiredness. he would doze off next to you, head falling back occasionally.

you’d wait for the right opportunity to help him lie down and pull the blanket you shared with him onto his body entirely. you wouldn’t need it anyway because you were already heading down the hallway to wonbin’s door.

you could hear faint music playing, probably playing from his late night playlist. you twist the doorknob slowly, walking into his room.

wonbin’s on his bed, putting stickers on his guitar when he met your eyes, a small smile immediately creeping onto his lips.

without saying anything, you watched as he peeled back a sticker, sticking it onto his electric guitar. something about the image of him with the guitar had turned you on even more.

you remembered all the times where he would sit you down and play his guitar for you, showing you different songs he learned how to play.

“you need something?” wonbin asked, applying pressure to the sticker once more before giving you his full attention. he had that stupid smile on his face and it took everything in you not to kiss it off of him.

“nope. just wanted to say goodnight.” you shrugged your shoulders and turned on your heels to leave but he cleared his throat.

“i was just playing,” wonbin chuckled again, pushing his guitar from his lap, “c’mere.” your stomach churned at his words and you immediately hauled at him, taking a seat on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“i missed you.” you admitted. and it was almost instant how he pulled you into a kiss. your lips were soft against his, pillowy as his fingers lingered on your waist.

you missed him; his smell, his touch, his scent, his voice, everything.

warmth blossomed in your chest again, and again. and when he pulled away to look at you, the warmth consumed your entire body. “show me how much you missed me.” he told you.

and you did. because in an instant, you were on top of him, gripping onto his shoulders as you rode his cock as if it would be the last time you’d ever see him.

he was soooo deep in you, hitting spots you’d never imagine. you could feel him in your stomach and each movement of your hips had wonbin whimpering underneath you, fingers digging into your waist with hitched breaths.

your mind is so fuzzy that all you can think about is how much he’s stretching your dripping cunt and getting filled to the brim with his cum. wonbin’s mouth is agape, silent moans falling past his lips that’s glistening with his drool.

“bounce.. make me cum.” he mewled, biting back his bottom lip, eyes never leaving your squinted ones. planting your feet into the mattress, you comply with his request, clenching around him hard, bouncing on his cock and earning more whimpers from him.

he looked so pretty— collarbones more prominent from his heavy breathing, cheeks red with some of his blonde bangs sticking onto his forehead. it was so hard to stay quiet knowing that your best friend was sleeping just down the hallways but how could you stay quiet when he’s filling you so deliciously?

“feels so good.. sososo good.” you groaned quietly, and wonbin nuzzled his face into your sweaty neck, that familiar knot in his stomach struggling not to snap. “k-keep using me. fuck, keep fucking me.” he moaned, sucking pretty little marks onto your neck.

the desperation in his voice was enough to push you over the edge. “wonbin.. m’ cumming..” you moaned, you’re hips stuttered as your walls spasmed around him, body shaking as you cream all over his cock.

it felt as if the earth shattered on its axis from how hard your orgasm hit you, and your body goes numb while you catch your breath. wonbin pulled your body into his arms, thrusting into your limp body to chase his own orgasm.

drinking in your trembling form, body shaking with small whines, wonbin couldn’t hold back anymore. “s’good, f-fuck, i’m close..” he whined, body stilling. and he spills his load into your aching cunt.

both of you stayed like that for a while. and you couldn’t help but thank tinder for getting you the best dick in your life.

a/n. very short very simple.. yeah

[disneyprincemuke]

sick little games * op81

neither you nor oscar can believe the predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

pairings: oscar piastri x female!reader

word count: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (series masterlist)

(prev)

you’d left the restaurant immediately after the newscaster finished talking. you’d lost your appetite after finding out that the man you’d hit on was possibly a ghost. you simply ordered a sandwich to go — frankly because you’re honestly still quite hungry — paid and then left to head back to your apartment.

oscar trailed behind you all the way back, not another word uttered between you.

on your way back, it started to make sense for you. when you first bumped into him, the confused stares weren’t from you stopping in the middle of the crowd, but from the fact that you were talking to yourself. and even then, the waitress’s hostility and confusion should have been the nail in the coffin.

you hadn’t even questioned the way that she only brought you 1 glass of water instead of 2.

you open the door to your apartment and turn around after stepping in, oscar still standing in the hallway with his hands clasped in front of him. you raise your eyebrows. “what are you doing? come in.”

“really?” oscar asks in shock. “i mean, you don’t have to invite me inside… like, i’m a stranger.”

“what?” you scowl in disbelief. “you’re a literal ghost — what are you going to do, murder me?”

he blinks at you. “too soon.”

“just come in so nobody else thinks i’m going insane talking to myself,” you scoff, beckoning him inside. “stop the whining.”

you close the door when he steps into your apartment. you almost want to giggle at yourself for holding the door open for a ghost and waiting for him to walk in. but you swallow the giggle you feel bubbling because you can only imagine how difficult it is especially for oscar.

oscar lingers next to you as you take off your shoes, looking down at his feet. “do you think i can take my shoes off?”

“i don’t know,” you glance over your shoulder and watch him seriously ponder at the thought, “you’re the ghost — try it.”

he blinks, “you don’t think i’d dirty your apartment floor if i keep them on, right?”

you tilt your head and sigh. you stand up straighter and turn to face him. “but didn’t we bump into each other? means if i reach out right now,” you hold your arm out and hover it over oscar’s shoulder, “i would hit you.”

“i guess?” oscar scrunches his face and looks down at your hand. “hit me.”

you hesitate for a moment. can he even feel pain? so you reach forward with all intentions of hitting him and even wound your arm back slightly to do some damage.

a soft shriek emits from you when you stumble forward and your fingertips jab into the wall supposedly behind him. “what?” you squeak, quickly stabilising yourself in disbelief. “i swear i bumped into you when we met!”

“you did!” oscar says with a sigh, throwing his head back. “i don’t get it!” he darts his hand out to grab your wrist, eyes widening when his hand passes through you. he gasps, “why does it do that? i swear i bumped into you earlier!”

“i don’t know! you’re the ghost!” you shriek, now walking further into your apartment. “you’re asking me like i’ve got a degree in parapsychology!”

oscar tilts his head as follows you in. “para-what?”

“study of paranormal activity!” you sigh. “my sister used to be obsessed with this type of stuff before our parents got separated and moved to different ends of the country. she’s a very investigative person.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t… i’m sorry about your parents,” oscar shrugs, frowning slightly. he watches you take a seat on your couch and throw your sandwich next to you. “and your sister. i’ve got 3 of my own back in australia and i grew up in the uk.”

you suck in a deep breath and sink into the couch. you realise you’re not entirely in the position to be freaking out as much as you are. you have to give it to oscar for staying calm in the past hour. you know that if you were in his position, you would not have taken it as well. in fact, you think you might even go crazy if you woke up one day with little to no recollection of events as a ghost.

and to find out from some random news clip to a restaurant with someone you've never met?

“i’m sorry. that must’ve been really hard on you,” you sigh, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “how do you feel? about everything?” you turn your head and realise that he is still standing and hovering by your couch. “why don’t you sit down?”

“it’s not my house — i don’t want to feel too at home as a guest,” oscar shrugs simply. he points at the empty spot next to you for permission. you nod and move the paper bag to the ground by your feet and he laughs as he takes a seat. “i doubt i’d deform your sandwich if i sat on it, by the way.”

“it’s on and off again. this sandwich is my overdue lunch and i’m not taking any chances,” you snort with a small grin. “this must be a little overwhelming for you.”

he shrugs and leans back. “it is. i don’t even remember waking up today, i’d just regained consciousness walking down the street before i bumped into you. it was like a video game — spawned out of nowhere.”

“this game is not going to be fun, by the looks of it,” you mutter, earning yourself a soft chuckle from oscar. “you can stay here until…”

“i’m not a ghost anymore?” he prompts.

“technically not a ghost 'cause you’re not…” you’re trying to choose your words carefully. you don’t want to trigger anything if you don’t know him that well just yet. “you know.”

“dead,” he points out firmly with a finger pointed at you. “let’s be realistic — i could be a ghost. i don’t even know how critical my condition is.”

you press your lips together and drop your gaze to the ground. you mirror his position on the couch and lean back with a sigh. “we should really stop talking about it, don’t you think?” you whisper hopefully.

he shakes his head. “i need to know what happened to me and who did this to me,” he sighs, shaking his head slightly. “maybe they got it wrong. maybe it was a driver error that caused my crash.”

“oscar…”

insistent, he continues to shake his head. “they wouldn’t do this to me,” he says softly with a frown, “i refuse to believe it. there’s no reason to!” oscar turns his head and meets your eyes. he sighs. “what do you think?”

you shrug. “i don’t know any of these people you’re talking about,” you say softly with a smile. “but i’ll help you, i promise.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @happy-nico @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @namgification @c-losur3

taglist: @lipringlrh @mess-is-my-aesthetic @vicurious28 @imsiriuslyreal @fionaschicken @pastryboyyy @spookystitchery @topgunmav1df1 @nixisracing @honethatty12 @bloodyymaryyy

[inuiiwonderland]

Stupid teenager in love

Ace seems to be in deep denial about his feelings for the prefect. Everyone can tell the heartslabyul first year has feelings for the prefect of ramshackle but he’s still denying it! So, the rest of the first year gang take it upon themselves to help Ace come to terms with his feelings.

Ace trappola x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff (shocker), the first year gang smacking some sense into Ace, Ace getting jealous, and um that’s it🤍

-

A loud cackle can be heard in the lounge as some people nearby glanced at their booth and some even gave them weird looks. The first year gang side eye ace. They were all trying to have a serious conversation with the red head but he couldn’t even take the situation seriously!

“Me? In love with the prefect? HAHA! Please as if!”

“We never said that you were in love with them”

“Oh” His face heats up before he quickly looks away.

“But you guys are making it seem like I am!” He says as he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, but we wouldn’t be surprised if you were” It was Jack who spoke as he sighs and shakes his head. Ace just groans as he slumps further down onto the chair.

“Jeez why do you guys even think I like the prefect anyway?” Everyone looked at him in utter disbelief as he continued to talk.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Yer so dumb it’s actually making my head hurt!”

“I know you’re dumb, but I didn’t know you were this dumb”

“Hey!”

“It’s a shame your parents have you as their child!”

“Okay that's so not cool!” He glares at them before getting up from his seat and grabbing his bag.

“I don’t know how many more times I have to say this but I’m only going to say it once. I don’t like the prefect!”

And he stomps off.

The rest of the group give each other a knowing look.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep”

“Uh huh”

“Unfortunately”

“He’s a stupid teenager in love”

“Agree” they all say in unison”

-

Giggles can be heard in the gym as Ace glowing glare is directed towards his upperclassman. The water bottle in his hand is crushed by how tightly he’s holding it.

“Jamil! You did really well in today's game!” You say as you hand him a water bottle. Jamil smiles and takes it from your hands. Thanking you before the two of you continue to talk.

“Oooo what’s got crabby so mad?” Ace was so busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t notice Floyd sneaking up behind him.

“Fuck off Floyd!”

“Eh? What did you just say?”

Shit

“Just leave me alone and go bother someone else”

“Mmm don’t wanna!~”

Ace just decides to ignore him as he continues to watch you and Jamil interact.

Why do you look so happy? And why are you being all touchy touchy towards Jamil?! Do you like him or something?

As ace continues to list off all the different possibilities about why you were so close to Jamil, that he didn’t notice the ball that was heading towards him at a ridiculously fast pace.

“Ace!”

“Ace look out!!”

He snaps out of his thoughts and his eyes turn to look at you.

“Huh?”

SMACK!!

The loud sound of a ball hitting something was heard in the gym as gasps echoed across the whole room.

Ace felt his whole face burn as he hisses at the impact of the ball hitting him. He groaned as he felt liquid fall from his nose.

“Ace!” He slowly opened his eyes to be met with your worried face.

He could feel his whole face flush

“Ace! Oh my sevens are you okay?”

“Floyd, why'd you do that?!”

“He was ignoring me and being rude!” Jamil just sighs as he massages his temple and sucks in a deep breath.

“Prefect, You don’t mind taking him to the infirmary do you?”

“Of course not! Ace c’mon I’m taking you to the nurses office!”

“Ughh”

“Floyd”

“Aww you guys are so boring and mean! It was funny!”

-

The trip to the nurse’s office was quick. You sat next to Ace as he held the ice pack near his injury. He was mumbling stuff under his breath as he stared into space.

“Ace”

Nothing

“Acee”

Still nothing

“Ace!”

“Huh” He hisses and holds his head as a massive headache forms. You quickly pass him a water and make- well more like force him to lay on your lap.

“What’d you do to make Floyd throw a basketball at you?” He scoffs as he rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything!” He winces when he feels the headache come back again.

“Well you must’ve done something! He said you were ignoring him and being rude”

“What?!” He regrets it once his head starts hurting again.

“You should stop moving and shouting too much! That’s why your headache keeps coming back to get your ass!”

“Whatever”

“Anyways, what did you do?”

“I already told you, I didn’t do anything” he mumbles. Enjoying being able to lay down on your lap.

Wait what?

No he’s not enjoying it! He’s just trying to get comfortable!

“Mm that’s not what Mr mood swings said”

“Ugh I don’t-“ He stops his sentence once he remembers.

Right

He was to busy glaring daggers at Jamil that he didn’t bother paying attention to Floyd

“Fuck my life” He says as he closes his eyes.

You tilt your head in confusion before continuing to comb your hands through his hair.

It was silent. Neither of you were talking and the two of you didn’t mind that. It was rather a comfortable silence.

That is until the doors to the infirmary were slammed open.

“What happened?”

“Ha you dummy! What ya do to make Floyd throw a ball at you?” Epel laughs as ace glares at him.

“Shut up you dwarf!”

“Eh?! Oh you little-“

“That’s enough” You thank Jack as he just nods at you before looking down at Ace who was currently laying on your lap. He raises a brow before looking at the others.

Deuce, epel, and sebek give each other a knowing look before deuce smirks.

“I see you're doing okay now. Do you feel comfortable ace?” You can hear the slight tease in his voice as you only chuckle.

The red head only looks at him confused until he realizes that he’s laying on your lap. He quickly shoots up but later regretting it as the headache from earlier quickly rushes to him.

“Shut up!” He quickly gets up before stumbling out of the nurse’s office.

“What’s up with him?” You ask. The others just shrugged.

If only you knew

-

It’s been a constant battle with ace and the first years. They have been trying for the last couple of weeks to help Ace come to terms with his feelings towards you. But he’s just too stubborn!

He doesn’t believe he likes you that way!

You’re his friend! He’s the first friend you made when you first got here!

The two of you only see each other as friends!

Nothing more, nothing less.

Just friends

That’s what he likes to believe

He was still bitter at the way you were being all warm and cozy with Jamil BUT that’s because he doesn’t want you to replace him!

He definitely wasn’t jealous

Nope nada nu uh

Definitely not because of that

The walk to the mirror chambers felt longer than usual. He was busy scrolling through twsttok that he didn’t hear his name being called from behind him.

“Ace, don't make me throw something at you!”

Now that got his attention

He quickly turns around to only see you

You

“Mm? What do you want?”

“Ouch. You don’t want me around or something?” You joke and he just rolls his eyes.

“I was just teasing”

“Yeah I know” You walked beside him as he continued scrolling down the app.

“Where’s grim?”

“With the rest of the first years” He frowns. Weird, you never go anywhere without that furball.

“So why were you looking for me?”

“Hey I just wanted to spend some time with you” He felt his face flush.

Shit! Say something!

“Am I that charming that you couldn’t resist being away from me for too long?” He teases. He was trying so hard to not make it look like your words held so much power over him.

“Yeah you’re so charming that I can’t spend a second away from you”

His eyes widen

Okay he definitely didn’t expect that

You laugh as you smacked his shoulder

“What? You expected me to just stand there and say nothing back?”

“I well duh!” You rolled your eyes.

“No but seriously. I do want to spend some time with you”

“Well I can’t blame ya. I’m just toooo irresistible!”

“More like irritating”

The both of you laughed as you made your way to the mirror chamber.

Sevens, when was the last time Ace felt like taking someone out on a date and having the urge to kiss them?

His last relationship didn’t end all too well but with you. He just feels more…well alive.

But there’s no way in all of twisted wonderland that you won’t feel some sort of way for him.

“Y’know…I notice how weird you have been acting lately”

“Eh? Weird? Ugh, the weird one is you!”

“Shut up pea brain!” You smacked him as he only laughs.

You look cute when you’re all riled up.

“Anyways as I was saying! I noticed you have been acting rather strangely these couple of months”

“How?”

“Well for starters, you’ve been awfully clingy around me, you got ten times more protective, and you literally scare away every guy who tries to talk to me. Why’s that?” Ace's grip on his bag tightens as he tries to not look at you.

“Don’t know what your talking about”

“Oh c'mon you know exactly what I’m talking about”

“Nope. Not a single clue” You sigh as you stop walking completely.

“Ace” He stops walking and turns around to face you.

“What?”

“Why do you keep denying it?”

What

“What?” His brows furrowed as he frowned.

“Why do you keep denying that you like me?”

It’s almost like time stops completely. The two of you just stood there. Not saying a single word.

Until you spoke up

“Am I that bad or embarrassing for you to admit-“

“No!” You flinch at his tone and he immediately shuts up.

“No it’s not that! It’s just-“

“Then what is it? I've been waiting for a confession for ages yet you still haven’t told me anything!”

“Just tell me the truth. Do you like me or not?”

He just stood there. Shocked.

A flash of hurt was seen in your features before you sighed and turned around.

“Wait!”

You stopped and turned around to see Ace right in front of you.

Fuck it

“I do like you! I always have! I just never came to terms with my feelings because I knew you never saw me as something else but a friend!”

Fuck

Fuck

Fuck

He did it

He actually did it

And he could feel himself cringe at the cheesy words but he didn’t care.

He wants you to know that he likes you. More than just a friend.

You stared at him before you broke into a fit of giggles.

“Huh? What’s so funny?”

“I know”

“What” you smiled at him before booping his nose.

“I said I know. I always knew you liked me. I was just waiting for you to finally say something”

WHAT?!

“HUH?!” You giggle before kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay because I also like you too!”

Ace just stood there frozen.

“Finally!”

“Sevens you were going to give me an aneurysm with how long you took to confess”

“Congratulations trappola! You finally gathered the courage to confess to the prefect!”

“Congrats dummy”

“Yuck! All this lovey dovey stuff is making me sick!” Grim complains as he sticks out his tongue. You only giggle before looking back at Ace who was still lost.

“You okay?”

“Yeah I am….why didn’t you ever say you liked me back?”

“Because I wanted you to say it first. It took some pushing but you still told me first nonetheless” He just shakes his head before smiling.

“But I guess it wasn’t a lie when I said that I was irresistible”

“Ugh fuck off”

Now it was his turn to laugh

They were right

He’s just a stupid teenager in love

-

My very first fluff fic??😱 (I think… idk I forgot😭)

Anyways I just wanted to write something sweet and cute so I hope you guys like!🤍🤍🤍

[littlestarconch]

Sense of Longing

Pairing : Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel x Reader

→ Hurt/Comfort ; Headcanon form ; Separate ; Established Relationship

🪄 :: Cruel 😭 , Now I feel guilty for even thinking about leaving.

Xavier

Literally turning the world upside down trying to find you.

Sleeping away his desires.

Sometimes he would even hallucinate that you're in front of him.

There are days where he dreamt about you, but then he woke up— making him felt even more lonelier than before.

Fighting wanderers even more aggressively due to his mind is only filled with you, who did not respond to his texts, nor read them!

It left him devastated, though he may not show them physically.

But his actions are getting more and more reckless each day that passes without you.

There are also times where he got injured because of this recklessness.

And you know what he did? He left it as it is, just letting it heal by 'itself'.

Your return— feels unreal for him

It feels like it's a dream, he was sleeping like usual, but hearing your voice woke him up.

It took him a good minute to realize he's not dreaming.

He would talk to you like how he usually is in his dreams, that is until he felt your warmth on his skin.

He stared at you, his hand unconsciously reached out to your arms.

When he' sure enough that it's actually you— be prepared because he will pull you into his arms.

Heavens! He will refuse to let go even! You have to push him away if you want to breathe.

But I believe y'all won't push him away.

Ever since your return, your first week is filled with Xavier just clinging onto you everywhere you go.

Not quite literally, but you get me.

Sleeping, with you in his arms, is a must.

If not, he will not be able to go to sleep.

Also please comfort him, he had been sleep deprived ever since the day you left without saying anything </3

He longed to be comforted in your arms, feeling your fingers running through his hairlocks.

He longed for listening to your heartbeat, listening to your voice.

He missed them, too much that it hurts.

He didn't realize how much he missed you until you appeared again in front of him.

Zayne

Working.

Doing his thing like usual, though, he will unconsciously look over his phone to see the long waited notification from a certain someone.

When he did not see anything, he, felt quite, weird at first.

Is it worry? Is it sadness? What is it??

At first he will simply shook the feeling away.

But he will no longer able to ignore them after a week have passed.

A week without any news from you left him confused and worried.

He will also not show this feeling, he is literally so stoic no one would be able to figure out he's actually missing you.

Even he, himself, didn't realize he missed you.

He buried himself in his work, staying up late. Even went as far as pulling an all nighter.

There are days where he accidentally fell asleep in his office due to the lack of sleep he gets.

He will still, unconsciously look over his phone to see if there's anything news coming from you despite him burying himself in work.

Other doctors and nurses is definitely worried about him, he had not left the hospital for a long time.

They literally had to send him home to make him go take a proper rest.

Since your disappearance, he would try do things that you usually do.

But everytime he did so, his mind wander off to the memory of being together with you.

Your smile, your voice, your touch.

He missed them.

A lot.

And he is well aware of how much he needed to see your smile, to hear your voice, to feel your touch once more.

Your return— made him want to immediately pull you into his arms and never let you go.

Upon seeing you in front of him, he wanted to just engulf you into his hold, and just stay like that till he let go and probably will be more than 30 minutes.

But he kept the feeling down by checking if you have any injuries while you were gone.

If you confirm there are no injuries, he will let out his desperation.

Of how much he missed you, slowly approaching you.

His hand on your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand brushed against the lines of your cheek.

Do the same to him, holding his face with both of your hands.

You will see how he just melt into your hold, kissing your palm as he pulled you even closer to him.

Soon he finally engulfed you into his arms, burying his face to the crook of your neck.

Whispering how much he missed you.

Make sure you spare some time for him now, because he will not let you go.

Rafayel

Good God.

He is very worried. Like literally. But on the first week, he would be quite grumpy of how you're not even reading his messages.

But after 2 weeks of no news from his favorite bodyguard turned his angry thoughts to worry.

He had stopped painting after a week have passed without any texts coming from your side.

His mind could not think of any inspiration, all he could think about is just,

Where are you? Are you hurt?

So many thoughts coming through his mind, but he tried to push them off by telling himself that you can handle yourself without any help from him.

But even so, that did not calm his mind at all.

There are days where he went to the beach at late night.

Watching the seas as his mind wanders off thinking about you.

The studio felt so cramped despite the large size, is it because of the messiness in it?

He refuses to clean up the mess, since he thought that no one will come to visit anyway.

You are literally just, disappeared without a trace, and not even saying a single word to him.

It left him devastated.

He is not aware how much he missed you, he thought that he can handle by being himself like how he used to be.

But you proofed him wrong.

Your return— made him realize how much he missed you.

He couldn't even get angry at you because of how much he longed to see you.

Hearing your voice alone washes the worry away and replaced them with relief.

If you ever ask about him being angry, he will immediately say he's not.

He couldn't.

Not when this feeling of longing overtakes him.

He wants to hold you, and will ask if he can hold you.

Once he gets a yes, he will pull you into his arms.

And let out a shaky breath, feeling you in his arms felt surreal for him.

Hearing your voice, feeling your warmth engulfed his figure.

He realized how much he needed this.

The world no longer colored in grey, the colors have returned, along with his inspiration.

Everything has gone back to it's place, because his muse have returned into his arms.

©littlestarconch

🪄 :: This is messed up bro 😔