#because its too precious and delicate

[raisinchallah]

bad tv is so much easier to watch than good tv like good tv its like im some kind of extremely particular fish you get the ph wrong in my tank and i die because it wasnt all perfect for watching this beloved incredible tv show time has to be right even better if you have a nice little meal gotta be in the right mindset so u can savor it literally catastrophic if u dont get this stuff right i start getting scale rot or something fish metaphor whatever but bad tv its like i become mosquito larvae i can live in any environment no matter how toxic and sludgy it is i will just slam thru that thing like nothing else

[sukunasweetheart]

oh, to fit him like a glove...

WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM

based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune

word count; 3k

imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.

and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.

he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.

he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.

"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.

outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.

"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.

his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.

...not yet.

he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.

his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.

"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.

"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.

"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"

he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.

"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."

the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.

however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.

one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.

"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.

sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.

the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.

the temptation is too great.

not. yet.

this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.

if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.

the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.

" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.

"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.

rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.

"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.

his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.

"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.

"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.

sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.

you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.

he suddenly spreads your legs.

at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.

a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.

the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.

it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.

once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.

he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.

when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.

ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.

your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.

he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.

sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...

"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.

"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.

"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"

"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.

"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.

veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.

sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.

few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.

"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.

"are you trying to test my patience right now?"

you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.

" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.

his gaze softens.

"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"

and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.

you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.

you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.

sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.

"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"

you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.

he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.

"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.

you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.

such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...

his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...

sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.

" 'm cumming-"

his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.

his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.

sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.

your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.

suddenly, he stills.

it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.

when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.

"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.

"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."

not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.

your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.

"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.

his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.

you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.

sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.

cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.

"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.

his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.

"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.

all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.

he breaks away from your lips.

"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.

you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.

his thrusts slowly start back up again.

"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.

"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."

your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.

... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.

you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.

sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.

once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.

"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.

you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.

"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.

"sukuna... too full..."

he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.

"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."

he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?

Masterlist

[shotmrmiller]

ps!ghost's twitter feed used to be of him at conventions. his car. him in a pool. the gym. arm around johnny in his backyard. sprawled on his couch next to kyle. basic stuff. the occasional obligatory promo of the video he shoots.

then it's one faceless pic of you for your OF. pretty thing, puffy pussy visible through your sodden knickers. thighs spread wide, feet on each side of the slim mirror. retweets it with a water emoji.

now, it's him with a cup of steaming black coffee in his hands, a sleek macbook before him on the marble-top kitchen island (hand covering the lower half of his face because it's too damn early for the mask. kinda looks like he's yawning. cute.)

johnny throwing up two fingers, thick wrist adorned with a bracelet, sunlight glinting off of its jewels. vacation, it looks like. cobblestone street beneath his loafers. panna cotta gelato in his other hand.

it's him with his hands in his pockets, neck craned back to look at the masterpiece that hangs on the wall— brushstrokes of genius on canvas. he's got a healthy glow to him, sun-kissed gold. warm, unlike the clinical white of the museum walls.

then it's you again. this time you've got two small (in comparison to his very long ones) fingers stuffed into your greedy hole, glistening with slick. heart eyes emoji.

and again. a vibrant pink vibrator in your cunt, one arm reaching for the camera, remote control in hand. put it as intense as you like. i can handle it. two heart eyes and water emoji.

and again, 3 consecutive pictures. your face is covered by a big red heart, but everything else is visible. like the creamy white fluffy rabbit ears on your head, a collar around your neck, tiny carrot charm delicately dangling from it, white cottonball tail on your arse. small, black triangles on your head: cat ears. silky collar with a tinkling silver bell. long, furry plume-like tail, obsidian black with a precious white bow at the base. last is a puppy mask. buttery faux-leather, sleek and smooth. padded fist mitts, rosy, pink paws. whip-like tail. a thick collar around your neck, chain links glimmering with the camera's flash. handle on the floor, beckoning to be picked up, to lead you about. i'd be a good pet, don't you think?

(simon spam retweeted this 6 times. kyle sent him a message about it, telling him his twitter is freaking out. it was most assuredly not a mistake.) lowered his joggers enough to take himself out and fisted his cock until he covered that pretty arse of yours with his seed. was not fun cleaning up his phone after but so worth.

(he'll never admit that heat blooms in his cheeks when fans ask if you're his lover. how lucky you are. must be seeing nameless gods beneath him, touching the sky with your fingertips when he uses his mouth. seeing the universe behind your eyelids when he makes you come around his cock.)

he wishes, lol.

[dilfsfordinner]

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

—————————————————————————

Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

——————————————————————————

[mirohlayo]

GIRLY GIRL : A LANDO'S

PERFECT MORNING

( In which your boyfriend needs to follow your his 3 step morning routine, which is undoubtedly your favorite time of the day. )

warning : none just pure fluff, lando being the SWEETEST boyfriend ever

note : I didn't plan on writing this much but it doesn't matter cuz I'm glad I did because it makes it even cuter

word count : 2.5k

9:30 - skincare time

“Just 5 more minutes, please, baby”. Lando snuggles up closer to you, his face hidden in the crook of your neck. If there is one thing that Lando hates above all else, it is having to get out of bed and at the same time abandon you when he only wants one very specific thing, and that is to cuddle you all the day, and sprinkle your face with thousands of kisses.

And he hated leaving bed even more during lazy mornings.

"Lan, I love lazy mornings too but I need to get up and prepare myself for the day". You move slightly so that you can have a view on him. “Why should you get ready when we’re going to spend the day at the apartment?” His hoarse morning voice is only a reflection of the long but pleasant sleep he spent last night.

“Because I want to feel clean, fresh and pretty.” You place a light kiss on his hair. “But you look stunning all the time, how could you be even prettier?” A shy smile takes its place on your morning face, while a slight chuckle emanates from your body.

"Come on Lan, please. It's time for your favorite part of the day." At this sentence, you feel your boyfriend's body slumped on top of you suddenly straighten up, his face just inches from yours. A most adorable smile appears on his lips as he places a light kiss on the tip of your nose.

"That's right. Let's get you prepared, pretty girl." A gaping smile creeps onto your face as you feel the thick white blanket of your bed slide, revealing your bare legs to the cool morning air. Lando helps you out of bed, gently and lightly taking your hand, as you disappear into the bathroom.

“Skincare time, love”. You place your few skincare products on the edge of the sink, in a certain order so that your boyfriend doesn't make a mistake in the steps of your skincare. Lando pats the small padded stool stored next to the sink, so that you can sit on it comfortably.

Sitting down, you carelessly tie your hair into a ponytail, ready to receive your daily morning skincare. “Should I start with this?” Lando’s soft voice tickles your ears as he stands close in front of you. His blue-green eyes peer curiously at the product in his hands.

The way he cares about the product is just adorable, and you can't help but crack a smile. “Yes, I always start with the toner.” With a nod, your boyfriend unscrews the cap of the product and generously pours the liquid into the palm of his hand.

"Are you ready ?". Lando asks you carefully, to make sure you're comfortable enough. This thought, the fact that he is always so caring and attentive to making you comfortable, for fear of doing something wrong or hurting you, warms your heart because there is nothing more adorable than this subtle but yet important gesture.

You nod your head quickly, and while Lando lets a most precious smile appear on his face, he very delicately applies the product to your cheeks, your forehead, your chin. He is very careful, and caresses your face with a frail delicacy, which leaves you overwhelmed by a wave of comforting warmth.

His touch is soft, delicate, as if he was afraid to touch you, or at least as if he was afraid of the idea of damaging you. “Your skin is really beautiful.” He didn't hesitate to say these few words to you, without really thinking about what was coming out of his mouth. You crack a big smile as you giggle adorably.

This sweet laugh, this sweet sound that reaches Lando's ears makes him miss a few heartbeats. How can a sound be so sweet? It's probably the one and only thing he could die for.

“Oh, I know this product. It’s your serum, right?” The enthusiastic intonation of his voice and the glint of excitement in his eyes gives you the effect of a wave of admiration. Your gaze becomes softer, as you stare at him intensely, with hearts in your eyes. “That’s it, baby.” The smile of victory and pride he displays when he has just realized that he is gradually learning to know your skincare by heart consumes you so pleasantly.

Because you know how much your boyfriend literally loves doing your skincare for you. He likes taking care of you, being able to touch and caress your skin delicately. See your being relax under his delicate touch, while he takes the time to perfectly apply the products to your skin. It's something that will never leave him indifferent, always obsessed with the way his heart savors every moment spent with you.

9:50 - hairstyle time

Your skin has finally finished absorbing all your skincare products, and after storing the products in the small cabinet hanging on the wall, you come and grab your hairbrush. “Hey, it’s my job to get you ready, I want to do your hair too, princess.” Lando takes the comb from your hands as he places his hands on your shoulders so you can look at yourself in the mirror in front of you.

The desire is too much, so he comes without further delay to place a kiss on the top of your head, inhaling the delicious smell of your shampoo from the day before. Then, with fluid and delicate movements, he begins to gently brush your hair. Combing slowly so as not to hurt yourself and to avoid big knots in your hair.

You close your eyes, lightly enjoying the moment, and allow yourself to be sensitive to your boyfriend's touch. It always manages to give you a relaxing, even comforting feeling. As if ultimately, he was the solution to your worries, the ultimate solution to your happiness.

“What hairstyle do you want today, gorgeous?” He asks you this simple question, still with this look of concentration planted on his face. You thought vaguely, taking a quick look at the hairstyles you could wear. “Just a simple braid, please.” Lando nods slowly, muttering a low "mm'kay", indicating the fact that he is focused.

He places the brush back on the sink, as he separates your hair into three equal parts. Then, he begins to braid the strands together, crossing them one after the other to obtain a pretty long braid. He braids your hair with absolute delicacy, and it's as if you feel transported to paradise. Everything is perfect.

“I love styling your hair y’know. It’s relaxing. Especially when I see that it also relaxes you a lot.” He offers you a most daring and mocking smirk, while you feel yourself blushing profusely. Your eyes meet in the mirror and you have to look away, too embarrassed.

“You’re cute, baby.” You don't react to his comment, since your body is already taking care of it by coloring your cheeks even more a pretty pink. And Lando loves that he has such an effect on you. Since usually you're the one who makes him completely feral.

Your soft hair that slipped under his fingers is now braided, and Lando comes to tie it using the elastic around his wrist. The rubber band he never takes off, in case you need it when you complain that you lost them all. It has become a real bracelet for him now.

“I’m proud of myself.” Lando smiles to himself as he gazes at your hairstyle, savoring the beauty of your hair. You stand up and turn around to place a quick kiss on his lips. "You did a great job. It's pretty". He grins at you, as his arms wrap around your waist, squeezing it softly.

“Not as pretty as you.” He gives you that cute smile back as you roll your eyes in amusement. “You have improved your flirting skills since we met.” You points out. His eyes fall to your lips, eagerly waiting to kiss them. “I knew I had to improve to be able to pull a girl as beautiful and amazing as you.”

You let out a laugh as he smiles goofily at your behavior, taking the time to readjust your braid as your body presses against his chest. It's in these moments, these innocent moments, that Lando finds comfort, that he feels his heart beating a little harder for you.

10:10 - outfit time

You stop in front of the large dressing room that you share with Lando. His clothes are stacked in a haphazard and very disorganized way, it's simply untidy. You take a look at your clothes, waiting for Lando to choose your outfit of the day.

You feel his hands place on your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck. “What should I wear today, baby?” Your question makes him move again, and taking a few steps forward, he begins to examine the different pieces of clothing you own.

"Something sexy. Hot and sexy. You'll look so good in that". He tries to show you a very tight top but you stop him by hitting his arm teasingly. “No, today I want to feel comfortable.” You protest, placing your hands on your hips. “You’ll feel comfortable when I take it off you.” He protests, offering you a smirk.

You poke his ribs and he contains a little scream. He ends up giggling, amused by the situation and the fact that he embarrassed you so easily. You sigh, looking at the mountain of clothes overflowing from the closet. “What color should I wear?”

"Pink. I think pink suits you really well." He takes out a pink hoodie from the closet, from Daniel Ricciardo's "enchanté" merch collection. His eyebrows furrow as he holds the item of clothing with his index finger and thumb, displaying a look of disgust.

"Eww. I didn't know you had a Daniel brand hoodie. It's horrible." You scoff dramatically as you snatch the sweater from his hands. "Excuse me ? I love it, it's so comfy." You hold it against you, glaring at your boyfriend. He raises his eyebrows, surprised.

"Ain't no way you'll wear that... awful thing." He approaches you, grabbing the hoodie from your hands and throwing it behind him. "You're all mine, you can only wear my hoodies or those of my brand. No Daniel or other drivers." His arms come to wrap around you as he presses you against him. He leaves soft kisses on your neck.

“Huh, much jealous.” You kiss his cheek as he snuggles closer to you. "Of course I'm jealous. You're my girl, not his." His voice is muffled, but quite noticeable. You giggle weakly as you play with his curls. "I only have eyes for you, baby. Don't need to worry."

He pulls back to smile at you like a child, a silly smile but so adorable. “Well, that still didn’t help me find my outfit.” You point at the wardrobe as your boyfriend finally finds some clothes. He ends up choosing a pink lounge set, comfortable but thick enough to keep you warm. Everything you need.

You don't wait any longer before locking yourself in the bathroom to change, and returning to the room where Lando is waiting for you, dressed in your outfit chosen by him. As you enter the room, his eyes fall directly on you. And you really think you're going to melt under his gaze.

His eyes are filled with hearts as he doesn't hesitate to stare at you intensely, a gaze burning with love and affection. “Stop staring at me please.” Your voice is a low whisper as you feel more shy. You never stopped feeling special every time Lando complimented or admired you, despite the fact that he did that several times a day.

It's stupid, but he always looks at you with such passion and ardor that it was impossible not to feel that same feeling of happiness. That feeling that makes you feel so unique and precious in his eyes. Because after all it is.

"Lan, you're staring at a bit too much." You snap your fingers in front of him to snap him out of his thoughts. He comes back to his senses and stares at you as intensely as ever. "Sorry, but how could I not stare at the most beautiful woman in the world? It's unfair how gorgeous you are."

Your brain doesn't think any further before coming to kiss him passionately. His arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. As you pull back, he pecks your lips a second time. And then he admires you.

For a moment, there is silence. A deafening and noisy silence, but because it emanates words of love. Unspoken words of affection, but yet you already know them without even having to say them to yourself. Because after all, no one knows how to describe the love you have for each other better than yourself.

“Mornings like this are my favorite. I do your skincare, your hair, and choose your clothes.” You can't contain a laugh, as Lando looks at you perplexed. “You’re such a girly girl, baby.” His eyebrows furrow slightly as he tilts his head to the side.

You continue to laugh while Lando still looks at you confused. “What does girly girl mean?” He asks curious. "Basically when you're a woman, and you like to take care of yourself. I don't know how to explain it, you have to be a woman to be able to feel it." You explain to him kindly.

“Does this mean that women have superpowers?” He asks innocently, and that cute face he shows forces you to quickly kiss him on the lips. "No, not really Lando. But it's just that you give girly girl vibes, because you like to take care of me." You keep giggling.

“Is it really that bad if I love taking care of my beautiful girlfriend?” He grins at you, almost kissing you by the way. You smile with all your teeth, shaking your head. "Not at all. It's even my favorite thing in the world." He smiles even wider at your words, feeling overwhelmed by love. “Good, because I wasn’t planning on stopping.” His lips press against yours, in an eternal passionate kiss.

After all, he was right. Is it so bad to take care of the person you love most in the world? Because for Lando, it's certain, there is nothing in the world that can match the mornings where he is lucky enough to be able to be next to his favorite person, the one for whom his heart continues to beat very hard every minute, each day that passes.

It is in the tenderness of his caresses on your skin, in the gentle gestures of his hands in your hair, in the innocence of his taste for your outfits, that Lando feels free, loved and happy. That he feels at home, that he really feels in his place, alongside his girlfriend, alongside the one he will love for the rest of his life, forever, because he has known it since day that he laid eyes on you: his heart is in your hands, and it will never stop beating for you. For the girl he always dreamed of having.

For the girl he hopes will wake up next to her, every morning, for the rest of his life.

[anantaru]

— how to make them blush

including dan heng, sampo, jing yuan, blade, gepard, welt, luocha x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, blushy boys, very cute

contrary to popular belief, it doesn't require a lot of effort to make your boyfriend dan heng blush radiantly because of something you'd do— for instance, delicately ruffle his soft hair, or easily grabbing his hand while you‘re going on a leisure walk or placing a precious and thoughtful compliment on him so he doesn‘t forget how much you love him. it begins slowly, and dan heng doesn‘t take his eyes from you, yet the very reason you can see it focused, more unimpeded. the casting of soothing red evincing on his person, gently cascading over the outlines of his sharp features like rural waves and there he was, you smile triumphantly at him when you catch it— expressing and doughy, the luminous scarlet color.

in the early stages of your relationship, you never thought that the usual confident and self assured sampo actually had a pretty deep soft spot of being praised and complimented by you. he likes, no, adores, when you compliment the most arbitrary things he'd carry out— whether it was easily cooking you dinner, situating a pure smile on your lips or planning ahead an upcoming date for the both of you. by the stowing means of this, you decide to do it again and tell him how impossible cute he was and how much you valued all the effort he put forth, especially how so very special and ambrosial while your boyfriend will quickly stave his head away from you before you can see it, an exultant blush flickering a powerfully charming redness on his entire face.

a man, specifically a well renowned general, such as jing yuan himself was quite difficult to fluster in a way where he‘d end up blushing and reddening honest warmth. but, evidently, you weren‘t one to give up on such a big challenge, the thought of having the man blushing in front of you was far too delicious to refuse on. so, you massage his scalp, kiss him and show him your brightest smile, yet nothing seem to work for some reason. but then, it‘s different, out of the natural sphere, when after an entire day of trying your hardest to make him show any early signs of redness, you show gradual defeat, eyes heavy and low lidded, drenched in tiredness— to add onto that, jing yuan‘s chest was far too comfortable to get up from. well, little do you realize after a couple of minutes pass, you find yourself deeply slumbering on top of him, and the thought that you feel so safe and shielded by his side, made the sleepy general blush at last.

prior to you, your charming boyfriend blade wasn‘t used to being loved or cared for in his life by anyone at all. to say that this heart warming relationship with you now was a new one, was a clear understatement. be that as it may, you can catch him hide a blush from you quite frequently, especially in the early stages of your togetherness, he for no other reason cannot help himself and get easily emotional at the thought that he has you, you're his, greater reason that you love him just the way he was and accepted each flaw, each scar, without a single care throughout the entire universe. but, one particular motion that will make the man blush instantly, faster and the most distinguished— in its highest duration, was when you cuddled him in midst the night, without saying a word, both quietly tangled under the soft sheets, and you whisper a little "i love you" right against his ear shell.

gepard finds it immensely captivating when you listen to the little, fun stories he tends to tell you all after coming home from his hard work. suddenly, he becomes shy when he notices that he talked far too much and wordlessly fears that he might‘ve bored you to death by some of his seemingly uninteresting stories, or that's how he referred to them. at the same time, when he looks at you up closer and realizes that you were in fact, eagerly listening to each of the words he expelled from his lips, gepard can‘t help himself but shine a glittering red towards your direction— cheeks puckered and flustered scarlet and spreading onto his entire face. "so?" you say, effortlessly snapping him back to the present, "how does the story end?" and your boyfriend suddenly leans into you without warning, to place a subtle peck on your lips, words couldn't possibly describe that feeling.

welt doesn't blush, nope, that's the end, he unelaborately doesn't. the man keeps himself in tact pretty forthcoming and without an issue— besides, he doesn't think it's possible for him to blush in the first place. then there's you, moving your lips slightly to indicate a smile as you slant forward, "your hair." you point out, "let me fix it." and progress your hand into his strands to couple the lousy hair hanging carelessly on his forehead. it's a mess, both the bloody situation and welt who, for some unclear reason, couldn't stomach what just had happened and he quickly pulls his head away— taking off his glasses and act as if he had to clean them, even though he just did that five minutes ago. a keen smirk plays around the edges of your mouth when you realize what was going on, yet you do not speak, don't say anything, but make a mental note to never forget on how to make your usually sophisticated boyfriend the exact opposite.

luocha knows whenever you try to fluster him, beyond everything, he has observant eyes and effortlessly sees through all the teeny tiny schemes you tend to carry out with him. when you become more clingy and coo sweet nothings towards his direction, or when you decide that your boyfriend deserves a couple more kisses than the day before, he can see that you were attempting to play tricks on him and coax out the desired reaction. but what luocha did not see coming was that, as a matter of fact, it was beginning to work, quite powerful as well. conveniently there he was, having you wrapped around his strong arms as you do it again, sneakily kissing from his collarbones to the outline of his sharp jaw, until placing your lips on him at all. he instantly blushes, pulling his hand to the back of your head to keep you into the kiss, so you wouldn't catch him, wouldn't flash him a cheeky smile afterwards too when you'd realize that you managed to make him flustered at the very end.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[kenntolog]

𝝑𝝔 an: i liked writing this, its kinda angsty btw. i hope dear anon who requested this likes it!! sorry that it took this long heh ;)

if you had to describe geto suguru with one word it would be ethereal.

his borderline unreal appearance — long raven locks gliding on the delicate arch of his back, sharp yet inviting features of his beautiful face, his shoulders that are as broad as ocean compared to the elegant curve of his waist. his thin, blueish pink lips that are usually a little upturned, high cheekbones revealing his slightly hollow cheeks.

his gorgeous purple orbs that mixed everything else make him the most beautiful man alive.

and as you watch him talking with a unfamiliar woman from across the room; finger gripping the leg of your champagne glass tightly while your other hand’s fingers dig into the meat of your upper arm to calm down your nerves, you still can’t bring yourself to be angry at the woman.

can’t bring yourself to be angry at the way she looks up at him with hooded eyes, hand holding onto his forearm whenever she laughs exaggeratedly at something he says, the way she stands a little too close for you liking and he doesn’t seem to be minding the invasion of his personal space. can’t bring yourself to be angry at the way his eyes don’t leave her face and he looks at her and the way he leans in to hear her better.

you’ve known geto for longer than he’s known you. before you exceeded from your position as a research associate to the head research analyst, before you officially met with geto suguru, ceo gojo satoru’s head assistant(which basically made him his partner), you had the fill of the gossip going around the workplace about how geto along with gojo was the biggest player.

when you started dating geto suguru, all of the chatter you used to listen to faded into the background because not only he was beautiful, but he was also very charming. it didn’t take long for you to fall in love with him and accept that he’s fallen in love with you too. how could you not?

but the ugly roots of self-consciousness always moved further inside you whenever you remembered his past conquests or saw geto being himself with other women.

that’s the thing; that’s just the way geto is. his voice is always smooth with a playful lilt in it, his eyes are always attentive and flirtatiously droopy, he always looks down at people, literally, and that works wonders whether he wants to charm a person or disarm them. that’s part of his job, too.

geto suguru is the embodiment of perfection and you wonder why you’re even considered to be his partner, your perfection fading away as soon as you feel like you belong to suguru, but he doesn’t belong to you.

but suguru is not stupid. he knows about everything; all the rumors, all the facts, everything said about himself and what may trigger those nasty thoughts in your pretty little head. he knows he has a face that is more than likeable and knows how to use all of his assets, which he does constantly since his work requires a lot of talking. and a lot of persuading.

geto also knows — that alone isn’t enough to calm you down and push away the string of mean thoughts occurring every time, so he tries to get to you differently. break you apart slowly and then pick you back up, all by himself.

gazing at you with love laced through his narrow eyes while his arms wrap around your seemingly tiny body that always tries to avoid him whenever your intrusive thoughts take over your great mind. saying your name with a tone as sweet as honey, his touch as soft as a feather, his mind set only on making you feel loved and comforted so you forget everything and give him your precious smile.

and it works wonders because suguru may have been a different person before he met you and decided to choose you as his one and only, and some parts of him maybe stayed till this day, but he won’t hesitate to show you that his love for you is eternal while everything else is temporary over and over again, until you get it and even after that.

[miwsolovely]

—THE WEIGHT OF BLOOD.

pairing: outlaw!farmer!141 x fem!reader

series masterlist taglist (closed.) next prev

contains: pov change, graphic violence, gore, reader’s husband insults her, mentions + use of knives in this chapter, reader is called a whore, implications of kidnapping, drugs.

summary: slippery floors.

wc: 4.7k

a/n: oh…

You always felt as if you were walking on eggshells with him.

It’s how you used to feel with him. When the sun was barely shining on your life and peppering your face with light, guilty, kisses.

Now that the sun is hidden by the horizon, no longer are the kisses light and guilt ridden, but they are harsh and forceful. No more are the rays hitting your skin with a warm embrace, but its replaced with a chill so unforgiving it’s like a whip against your skin.

No longer are the eggshells digging into your skin, because glass shards are piercing into your feet, digging into the flesh and staying there so that every time your once delicate, soft feet hit the floor, a wave of pain and realization washes over you.

Every step is a reminder; you’re never going to be free of him.

You let out a shaky breath and wince at your husband’s booming voice. Pointing fingers and yelling curses.

Johnny and Simon are doing little to nothing to stop him, in fact, they seem to be holding back.

Why?

Why are they holding back when your husband, James Fitzroy, is insulting their mothers? Their sisters, brothers? Them?

“We didnae do nothin’ to ye,” Johnny starts, standing in front of Simon when James gets too close for his liking. “So back the hell off.”

James scoffs with a sick smile on his face. “You didn’t do anything to me?” He spits. “Of course not, you just came into my house, and fucked my wife, is that it? Hm? Had your fill already?” He taunts, his hair flying wild.

You always loved his hair. His golden, rich dark hair, suggestive of the precious metal, mimics the beauty and luxury of his picture perfect world; compared to you however, your soul hides what’s really behind closed doors.

You shake your head to rid your mind of those thoughts. He’s not shining gold anymore, the secrets in this house are slowly coming to light. He resembles something that seems kind, but hurts you when you actually expect it, when you know it can hurt you. Like the sun.

“We didn’t do anythin’ to your wife.” Simon defends. He steps forward so he’s now side by side next to Johnny, the kitchen looking too small for them. “We just came here to deliver the meat she ordered, is all.”

“Oh really?” James says. He shoves an accusing finger in Simons shoulder.

He’s going to hurt them. He’s going to hurt them and you’re just standing there.

Like the pliant little housewife he made you to be.

What are you doing just standing there?

When you let the heavy coat drop from your arms onto the floor and you take a singular step in their direction, you can feel the glass digging deeper into your skin.

Every step is a reminder.

As you near your husband, you shudder. His wrath is like a toxic air that’s slowly killing you from the inside out. Taking and taking until there’s nothing left of you to take.

You reach your James, scared to meet the questioning gazes of Johnny and Simon, and reach a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “James—”

He whips his body around to face you. You can see, feel, his anger as it burns everything it touches. Hungry for more. He grabs your outstretched hand and squeezes. Ignoring the whimpers of pain that fall from your lips and the tears that blur your vision and fall down to meet at your chin.

“You.” He says it with so much, loathe dripping from his voice, painting his lips, his chin, neck, black with anger.

“You fucking whore, playing around with these, little boys, getting their dicks wet while I slave away at work and provide for you?”

His face is too close. So close, you can smell the stink of alcohol on his breath, recoil as you feel the spit flying out of his mouth land on your face. You feel your tears falling fatter and faster as you see the hickeys and lipstick prints on his neck.

“You let go of ‘er—”

Your free hand feels like lead as you raise it to bring it down with such force it leaves a red mark on his face the moment your skin touches his, his face forced to the side, facing the wall.

You feel your soul getting doused in gasoline and set on fire.

You see James’s body turning rigid and stiff as his face turns a canvas of anger.

You blink away your tears.

He stiffens as if he endures the horrors you have to watch him do at night. He stiffens as if his body is constantly being clawed, dragged, down by hands that burn. He stiffens as if he has glass stuck in the soles of his feet, spilling his blood onto the floor and staining the wood, the walls, you. You, you, you.

He turns his head back to its original position to at you, but he’s stopped. Stopped by a scared hand deep his hair wrenching back so his body topples to the floor with a reverberating thud. You almost fall with him with his tight grip on your wrist, but you feel Johnny’s hand pluck yours out of his and cradle it, cradle you, to his chest.

But you can’t focus. You see your vision blurring and a ringing, your soul screaming, in your ears is blocking out the noise of Simon’s fists connecting with James’s face.

You watch with horror gleaming in your eyes as you see your husband’s face and body grow more and more unrecognizable by the second.

Why are you just standing there?

“Get—” Simon’s fist interrupts his slurred cries. “—th’ fuck off ‘f me you d’rty bast’rd . . .”

Your husband is getting beaten, and you’re standing in the arms of another? A stranger?

Simon’s eyes. They’re burnt a charcoal black and only seemed to be getting darker by each blow he landed on your husband’s face. It scares you to no end.

“You stain your wife’s skin with that mouth?” A sharp sound, a slap echos throughout the room. Right where your hand hit his face. Right where your hand can be seen on his face as a bright red gone darker by Simon’s force.

Your eyes catch a gleam in the light, a gleam of something sharp, of something used to kill.

A pocket knife.

James struggles to fully pull it out of his pocket but when he does, he grips it with a shaking hand and stabs blindly at Simon’s arm.

You suck in a breath and can only watch as silence consumes the room with Johnnys arms tightening around you.

He didn’t even flinch as the knife was forced into his skin, didn’t even react as he gripped the handle and yanked the knife out of his arm, his blood following the knife like a lost dog before splattering on the ground like abstract art.

Noises of pain and fear escape the opened mouth of your husband, noises that you’ve never heard him make. Only noises of power and rage.

Simon rises to his full height and takes a handful of James’s hair, dragging him up with him add dropping the knife on the floor

“Simon—” You beg, but it’s too late. With the grip Simon has on James’s hair, he pulls his arm back and swings it, swings James, towards the kitchen counter at full force.

His head ricochets off of the counter and he lands back on the floor, right in front of your shaking form.

He lays there sideways and still as the long gash running straight across his forehead leaks blood onto his clothes and floor at a rapid pace. You stare at it as the blood slowly runs towards you.

You’re staring at your husband’s bleeding body.

Simon grabs James’s pant leg, pants that you bought for him, and yanks his body towards him to resume what he hadn’t finished.

When the blows continue, you find yourself wincing at each one, unconsciously sinking deeper into Johnny’s warm body.

A man you just met that day is beating the life out of your husband.

You feel like cold water is raining down on your body.

“Stop—” Your cry escapes your lips broken. “stop, please! Simon please—you’re hurting him!”

You try to push Johnny off of you, try to yank your limbs out of his strong grip but that’s just it. His strong grip is like a snake that captured its prey, rolling its body around it and holding onto it until it dies, until it can’t feel anymore, until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Let me go—Johnny let me go!”

He shushes your cries and doesn’t even bat an eye when you turn to bang your fists on his chest and run your nails down his skin. He just cradles your head to his chest right where his heart is so you can hear his heartbeat and be soothed.

But how can you be soothed when—

“Simon.” You hear him say. “That’s enough.”

Like changing tides; Johnny’s voice sweeps into his mind and altered his landscape of emotions. Changing from the beast in a story to a soft bear.

A bear with blood dripping from its mouth.

Simon stops the torture that he inflicted upon your husband and keeps his back turned to you and Johnny as he stands. Blood, James’s blood, dripping from his clenched fists and escaping into the crevices in your tile floor.

He turns at the waist to you and Johnny. You, who’s still struggling to escape his arms, you whose tears are never ending on your damp cheeks, you who’s watching your husband struggle to breathe, blood exiting his mouth in bubbles, popping and splattering the red mess everywhere.

And Johnny, who watched with a satisfied smile growing on his face.

Bells were ringing in your ears, stars were dotting your vision, your hands were shaking, you can’t breathe. “James . .?” You whisper. Your voice coming out so broken that Johnny almost felt sorry.

He still has his arms around you, still feels your beating heart pound against the cage around it, against his chest, still feels the sting of the bruises and scratches you left on him, the latter leaving blood trailing down his arms, dripping and dripping until they bleed into your dress, bleed into you. He still feels, you.

“What . . . No . . . no, no!” Your wail runs deep and escapes raw from your soul. You wail and it breaks Johnny’s heart, breaks it into tiny pieces scattered all around this cruel world you all live in. This world filled with cruel people.

“You killed him! You killed him!” You struggle, and Johnny grunts out curses as you elbow his stomach, slipping in blood and failing to the floor, your dress pooling at your feet, shaking in the blood staining the floor and dying the front of your once blue dress red. You fall right in front of Simon. Right in front of your husband’s still warm body. Still bleeding. Still breathing.

You burn the part of you that feels disappointed in that fact.

“James,” You whisper, cradling his face, his broken face, his face that is broken and bleeding, in your hands. You know it will haunt you for life. “Please, please, wake up. . . wake up . . .”

Blood was everywhere.

Your cries are silent except for the horror filled gasps you let out in between breaths. Your hands shake and you feel as if the coldest of waters were dumped on you. Hoping there would want you up from this dream, this nightmare.

“Why . . ? Why did you do this . . ?”

Your face is drenched in your tears running down your face, some fleeing into your mouth, making you taste your own sweet nectar tears. A nectar that is sticky and leaves a bitter rather than sweet taste in your mouth, a nectar that clings to things that aren’t theirs and never lets go. A nectar like Simon and Johnny.

“He was hurtin’ ye lass,” Johnny says. “We couldnae let ‘im hurt ye like tha’” He walks towards you, the squelch sound coming from his boots walking on blood make you flinch and cover your mouth in terror with your shaking hands, spreading blood, your husband’s blood, all over your tear stained cheeks.

Johnny squats down next to you, his thighs brushing over yours as he watches you. Watches you process that your husband might as well be dead to you, and he’s not coming back no matter how hard you pray.

You feel Johnnys hand, his warm hand, his soft hand, his dry hand, guide your face to lock your eyes with his.

“Ye know we had to do tha’.” He says. His eyes aren’t bright anymore. Now they’re dark waves at night. Luring innocents into its waters and taking, drowning, keeping. “Right, love?”

Your eyes shift back to James’s body in your peripheral, still feeling the cold gaze of the two men on your face.

His eyes are swollen shut; but if they were open, you could imagine they’d be looking at you, piercing you with that gaze you used to love so much, The gaze you find yourself missing; back when things were good, not burnt and soaked in blood.

His skin is pale. It turns as white as the pure clouds that once blocked the heat of the sun. But now the clouds are dark, they’re dark and they obscure the warmth of the sun to let the cold chill of death sink its claws into the fertile earth.

His chest barely rises with the painful breaths he’s taking.

He’s still alive.

Your shaking eyes peel away from James and they lock with Johnnys’ again.

And you know, with a heavy and pained heart, that he can see the tiny part of you that agrees with him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes burned and your head is pounding. All you can hear is ringing. Ringing, screaming, crying, all the same to you in this moment.

You hear someone call your name, you feel a wet hand touch your shoulder, you feel something sharp sink into the fragile skin of your neck.

You feel the cold shadow of darkness embrace you.

Your body feels heavy.

Heavy with guilt, fear, and an overwhelming sadness.

Heavy with whatever drug was forced into you.

In your milky haze, your eyes open slightly and the sun burns your eyes even through the thick curtains blocking it.

You think they’re curtains. They could very well be something else; but they move with such a fluidity in them that you can’t think otherwise.

This room you’re in moves as if it’s a vehicle on a bumpy road, your ears pick up the sound of an animal trotting on the rough road.

Someone moves, blocking the shining sun with their body as they move to learn towards you.

“Sh, Bonnie lass.” A voice coos at you, brushing their—his—hand over your temple to gently move the hair that rested there. “Yer alrigh’, we’re gonnae get ye someplace safe.”

When you let out a hoarse moan in protest to his action, another hand, a bigger hand, pets your hair and plants a chaste kiss on your sweating forehead.

You let out a dry cry and try to move your head in another direction, any direction, but the poison burning your veins and warming your skin is making you a limp doll.

Your lips are cracked and your throat is raw. When you try to speak, the sentence gets lost on the way out of your mouth and only one word escapes.

“. . . home . . .”

The soft voice, the first voice, shushes you again, moving your body and placing it sideways in a laying position so your head rests on his lap and your legs dangle on something else. Someone else.

“It’s gonnae be okay hen, don’ worry that pretty head. We’ll get ye home safe with us.”

You last see the curtains move after going over a particular bump in the road, revealing dancing trees and a large sign; though you only see the last part of it before your body succumbs to sleep:

—POPULATION: TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN.

In the murky shadows of the dimly illuminated room, wisps of smoke curled and danced around the man seated amidst the gloom like a dragon.

With each inhale, the ember of the cigar flared, casting fleeting glimpses of their features into the obscurity.

The apple of his cheeks, his beard shining auburn, his eyes that reflected an angry sea.

“She sleepin’?” He asks into the shadows. His voice is rough and deep, his words escape him in a cloud of smoke as dark as his eyes.

“Yes. Brought ‘er in an hour or so ago. A ripe peach she is.” The shadow answers, stepping away from the window that covered an entire wall adjacent to the grand desk. The shadow walks the length of the room to stand in front of the desk, he picks up a random trinket from the desk and starts twirling it between his fingers repeatedly.

“And the husband? Tell me the bastards’ gone.”

The smell of smoke and ash covered the room. But nothing could cover the smell of blood coating the shadows fingers, staining the trinket, the knife, in his hand.

“He’ll never hurt her again.”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

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[justporo]

Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?

Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.

If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)

As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.

Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 

Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.

You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.

Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.

You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.

But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.

And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.

From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.

And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.

It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.

Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.

And so you took note but remained silent.

Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.

Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.

So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.

That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.

“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.

“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.

You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.

Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.

After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.

Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.

And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.

Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.

So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.

And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝒜 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 ༻

You never expected a Devil to be your savior, never expected to be cherished by him…

PRT 2 (CLICK HERE) - Fluff - Soft Raphael - Past Talk About Abuse

Gazing outside his balcony, you watched as yet another red storm began to stir throughout Avernus. The wilted trees bend to the will of the fiery winds. The overcast clouding your view of the mountains, and with a deep sigh this dreary day has brought back memories you had thought you’d forgotten. A life full of pain and restrictions… But the devil took you away from it all, and gave you a new life with new meaning.

With a subtle startled expression as you felt your hand graze one of the small buttons on your wrist, you look down with a warm smile as you continue to run your hand along the soft cotton of Raphael’s opulent dress shirt. You nearly had forgotten that on days such as this you quite enjoy stealing his shirts. They always brought you such comfort and joy, who would’ve thought… A devil bringing you such comfort. It’s laughable really. Holding your arm to your lips you can smell the scent of cherries and sulfur, it relaxes your muscles and you can’t help but to thank him aloud to yourself, “Thank you, my devil.”

“For what, pray tell little mouse of mine?”

And just like a tiny mouse, squealing wasn’t the right word for the noise you had just made… But with a tiny cute noise, you hastily turned around on his silken bed to face the devil himself, Raphael… He was always so handsome no matter the form he took, right now though he appeared human. His milk chocolate eyes watching you with interest, his hand resting on his chin. Everything about him was so grandiose and each time you looked him in the eyes your heart would skip a beat.

The Devil wasn’t perfect, he had his flaws just as everyone else did… He also had his own ambitions to rule the 9 hells… But, for whatever reason, those flaws made him even more special to you. Yes, he was the son of Mephistopheles. Yes, he is technically one of the “bad” guys, but… unlike the last villain that had captured you… Raphael was soft with you, treated you as if you were some sort of delicate flower that would break apart if not careful. He had his souls he enjoyed to flail and torture, yet with you it was different… the devil had no need to put you through such horrors. He cherished and protected you like a dragon with its hoard of treasure.

“R-Raphael- I uh-… Thank you… For…”

Just his presence alone made you flustered, it couldn’t be helped.

“It would seem that the cat has caught this little mouse’s tongue.” A small laugh emanated from his chest, “How, precious.”

You grin at his response.

Damn near everyone would disagree with you, but in your eyes, Raphael wasn’t foul, not like Astarion was… This devil you came to know throughout your adventure didn’t hold you by a leash… Didn’t force you down whenever he pleased, or gauge your neck with his teeth to prove a point- Your flushed face reducing to a pale complexion as your hand cups where Astarion left his mark on you. A chill runs down your spine remembering when Astarion the Ascended chained you for days… All because you wanted to run out into the city for some fresh brioche and to say hello to Gale.

Raphael, a devil, son of Mephistopheles… Never chained you nor held you against your will. He let you run out into the real world… Let you do as you pleased. You knew he’d make Korilla follow after you. But it wasn’t due to lack of trust, it was plainly because he wanted to keep you safe and out of the Vampires grasps.

Like a falling feather, you gracefully glide off Raphael’s bed. His shirt on you flowed at the bottom thanks to it being far too big on you making this scene before him look like it was out of a book- and into his chest you fell. Your arms wrapping around him while your cheek pressed against his arm that crossed against his chest.

“What’s better than a devil you do know?” You looked up at him questioning.

“By all means please do enlighten me.” His hand never left his face and his other arm stayed crossed over his chest as you embrace him.

“A devil thats your savior…” -You looked away from him, staring back out the balcony-, “I don’t think you’d ever find a quote like that in a book, but I’m thankful for you, Raphael. Truly. Thank you.” You press your face into him, your lashes fluttering close.

Raphael would never tell you how he waited for your hope to whittled down to the very marrow of despair- how he waited for you to whimper his name between sobs while chained to the vampires personal bed. The Devil would also never admit how it pained him to see such a treasure being handled in such ways, yet he wanted you to call out to him. He’s still a devil after all… So he waited all that year, waited for you to call out his name for help, pleading to sign whatever it is he desired…

“You didn’t belong with such filth.”- you didn’t need to look up to know he was scrunching his face, you could hear it in his voice- “Fine beauty such as yourself belongs in a much more suitable home.” He finally moved his hand from his face to the top of your head. Petting you like some adored pet.

Raphael, from the moment he laid eyes on you, knew he'd make you apart of his plan forever someday. He just didn’t expect you to vanish all of a sudden… The damn vampire had ascended and taken you… All those years you were caged like some sort of animal. Nowhere to go, forced into things you wanted no part of… Living like a rat.

A rarity had shown its face as Raphael peered down at you, you didn’t see it and Raphael could only hope for once that Haarlep didn’t see the concern on his face.

Astarion still walks among the living, and Raphael can’t be everywhere…

[meowzfordayz]

analysis (; — hashira men

Author’s Note: took this not-actually-a-prompt and got carried away heh... 😌

analysis (; — hashira men

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Iguro Obanai x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, degrading language, explicit language, Fem!Reader, oral, spit, squirting

Thirst Fulfilled: I NEED someone to settle an argument between me and a friend-

Do you think sanemi has a big [redacted]-

Because I KNOW he is packing a huge one.

Ps I’m sorry but I don’t know who else to ask 😭

~faqs~

Update as of 12 May 2023: A foreword that these headcanons are first and foremost indulgent !! 😌 They are not intended to be realistic. They’re supposed to be fun. Hot. 🥵 Within the realm of possibility, but not ~normal. 😉

Dick so big it has him blushing 🤭

—I mean, c’mon: Look at him 😳

That being said, it’s also very pretty — not monstrous or scary (besides its size heh)

A nice, rounded head that oozes precum throughout foreplay, sensitive and rosy pink as you flick your tongue across it, thick and heavy balls tightening at the breathy moan in your throat

A delicate vein curves from its base to the underside of the tip, thankfully not too pronounced, bc it’ll stretch you out enough regardless

Speaking of stretch…

Your fingers can barely wrap around its girth — it’s much easier to drool and lap at the shaft than commit to anything close to deep throating (unless your jaw stamina’s through the roof 👀)

Doesn’t exactly groom himself, but that isn’t too much of an issue since it’s not like his pubic hair’s getting in your way too often (re: dick too huge to regularly deepthroat) 

As for length, Gyomei’s in the ball park of ~reasonable (10 inches when erect), but it still requires a hell of a lot of prep before you’re fully seated on his cock, ass flush against his flexed thighs while large, sweaty hands grip your hips in a feeble attempt to restrain himself from immediately thrusting into your dimly throbbing cervix

“This okay?” he murmurs, thumbs pressing firmly into the softness of your skin, low groan caught in his chest at the suffocating heat of your pussy, your shaky, faintly pained breaths keeping his desire in check

“Take as much time as you need,” as you use his stomach to steady yourself, muscles rippling beneath your palms

“You feel wonderful,” whispered gently—patient as ever—even as he longs to raise your trembling body up and almost off of his cock, only to fuck the air out of your lungs w/ a single, smooth drop of your wanton weight, unsuspecting wail music to his ears as you convulse in orgasm at the overwhelming pressure of his cock stuffing your puffy walls

Obanai’s closer to average, but he isn’t small (at least, his dick isn’t 😆 #short king)

Def a grower, slim, veiny shaft elongating (to ~6 inches) as you stroke him w/ a practiced flick of your wrist

Not exactly related to his dick, but he also def growls during foreplay, needy and eager to melt into you and to ruin you — just depends on his mood, yanno?

His head is the kind of head that you almost wanna chomp 🤗, all squishy, bulbous, and fat, quickly reddening and weeping precum, making a mess of your fingers

Perfect lubrication for touching yourself while sucking him off, gleam in his eyes at how filthy you are

Typically can’t be bothered to trim his pubic hair, but it doesn’t get especially long anyway — more so coarse and curly

His shaft doesn’t stretch you out significantly, sliding easily into your slick heat, hovering above you as his hands keep your legs parted widely, “You like being splayed out for me, hm?” pinching lightly at your inner thigh, grinning smugly as you whimper contently, “My precious plaything.”

But it (his shaft) does have a wicked, upward curve, tip grinding firm and repetitive against the spongy bundle of nerves deep in your pussy

And its veins 🤤

What he lacks in girth, he makes up for in texture

Plus, Obanai 11/10 fucks aggressive and erratic, pubic bone flush to your clit, friction delicious and constant as he thrusts full force into your hole, sweat dripping from his brow onto your clavicle, his eyes narrowed in lust and passion, balls slapping sticky against your asshole, less concerned about hurting you since he’s aware that he isn’t ~the biggest guy on the block

Altho, if he’s tired, then he lowkey enjoys you on top, edging him w/ every slow and steady undulation of your hips, your tits pressed warm and hot to his chest as he clings to you and the squelch of your cunt

For whatever reason, my immediate thought was: Raging! Hard! On! 😂😍

Kyojuro’s absolutely packing, but still decently proportionate to his stature (177cm aka 5’10”)

—Bc, contrary to porn-pular belief, comically large dicks hurt 😒💀

8 inches erect, and a sizeable bulge when flaccid

—Never thought I’d use this term, bc (imo) it’s hot when I’m horny, but 🥴 when I’m ~sober 😆…

BREEDER BALLS

As much as Kyojuro loves worshiping your pussy, he might love when you worship his balls more 🤭

You kissing, sucking, licking his balls while he jerks himself off = 100% orgasm guarantee

Drooling on his shiny, reddening tip, your spit trickling down between his fingers, making a mess of your lips as you return to fondling his balls w/ your mouth?

110% orgasm guarantee

Prefers cumming on your tits, btw — will stave off his orgasm until you can get ~in position ☺️

Nothing like an even messier round two 😎

Bc, ofc, he is more than happy to reciprocate the pleasure 💞

W/ enough girth to warrant a gradual sinking (vs an abrupt thrust to the hilt), his shaft fills you breathless, its last couple of inches just barely fitting into your heat

“Can’t believe you’re already hard again,” you giggle delightedly, eyes hazy as he smears his cum across your nipple, throbbing head pressing deeper into your pussy, “You’re insatiable, I swear.”

A heady groan is his only response, gaze bright and attentive as always, reaching for your hand, dipping your thumb into his cum splatter, tasting himself on your skin as he maintains eye contact

“Fuck,” you gasp, pussy clenching at his nonchalance, tongue swiping subconsciously along your bottom lip

“Taste?” he offers, enthusiastic tone muted by the determined pressure of him lapping at your other nipple, his cum bitter and warm as he kisses you sloppy and needy, grip gentle on your jaw as he inhales your scent

And then you whisper Umai!

One word: brutal 😵‍💫

Not bc he’s ridiculously hung (i.e. Gyomei), but bc he’s ridiculously good (at using his dick)

—I actually headcanon Sanemi being a ~bashful virgin (sex can be intimate, and intimacy can be scary, but he loves you, so if that means being soft and scared w/ you… then he’s willing to go there 🥺🤍), buuut once he’s comfortable/well practiced?

—😈😈😈

Not much of a show-er when flaccid (and absolutely, positively shriveled when cold 😂), but an ideal 7 inches when erect w/ girth in between Gyomei and Kyojuro (slimmer than Gyo, thicker than Kyo)

His tip seems to get ~angrier the longer you tease him, going from an almost cute pink to an engorged, lustful red — def the hardest part about fitting him in your pussy, breath catching every time he finally slips into your dripping hole

Which, he has to get you dripping before attempting to penetrate, or at least use lube, bc rushed sex + his dick = not super enjoyable

Alternatively, he’ll facefuck you to get his dick wet enough for your pussy, 7 inches manageable, albeit veering on unpleasant, your nails digging into his flexed ass as he shoves himself languid and satisfied into your mouth, head twitching and leaking precum down the back of your throat whenever you gag on his length

“Watch your teeth,” he grunts lowly, tugging warningly at your hair, swallowing a moan as his cock muffles your whimper, eyes watering at his roughness, “Don’t make me gag and choke you,” calloused fingers brushing soothingly—promisingly—at your neck

In terms of pubic hair, he keeps it neatly trimmed, but not clean shaven: he likes hearing—seeing—the filthy mess of your saliva, tears, and precum as he fucks up and into your pussy

“Is this fast enough for you?” he snarls, your body balanced precariously atop his pelvis, grip nearly bruising on your hips as he smirks knowingly, “Obviously not,” pace frenzied as you moan raggedly, “If you’re still moaning like a whore, then it isn’t fast enough.”

Feet shifting beneath him in search of a different angle, grin triumphant and deadly as you shout silently, head tilted backward, tits bouncing in mesmerizing sync w/ his thrusts

“There we go,” he murmurs, balls tightening at your fucked out expression, “There’s my perfect cunt, squeezing all pathetic and hopeless around my cock,” stamina never ending, pussydrunk on the feeling of you, “Can’t wait for you to cum on my cock, gonna make this cunt so fucking sloppy.”

The prettiest dick 😭

—Ik I mentioned Gyomei’s dick being pretty too, but Giyuu takes pretty to another lvl 🥺

Aka Giyuu has the Goldilocks Cock™ 💀

Just shy of 7 inches, w/ thin veins that curl neat and yummy around his shaft — which, btw, is thick enough to have you pushing on his shoulders Slowly, p-please as the tip catches on your entrance, his eyes hooded and glassy as he ignores you in favor of thrusting in further Sorry not sorry at all You feel so g-good

A faint shudder trembles down his spine, pooling in his groin, traveling along his girth, head twitching in the viscous grip of your heat

Maintains a tidy patch of pubic hair, delicate happy trail tantalizing and subtle whenever he stretches 🥱

As for his balls… once again: Goldilocks Balls™ 🤤

Optimally sized for sucking into your mouth, hanging beautifully even, downy hairs tickling your nose as he cups the back of your head, quiet groans spilling from his cherry bitten lips as you glance toward his fluttering lashes, your vision obscured by the muscle of his tensed inner thigh

Giyuu’s fave position? 

—for these headcanons, at least 😆

Cowgirl 🤠 #yee #haw

Your pussy clings to his shaft like a greedy vice, creamy essence smearing from your swollen folds to his lower abdomen, tits presented as you arch backward, using his legs to steady yourself as you fuck yourself on his (perfect) cock

“Touch yourself,” he demands softly, spreading your asscheeks w/ surprisingly cool hands, easily supporting your weight, eyes closing at the satisfying smack of your skin bouncing against his

“Touch yourself till you cum,” his biceps hardly straining as you chase your orgasm, rhythm smooth and delectable, “I want to feel you fall apart,” murmured slick and gentle, in stark contrast to the lewd squish of his balls tapping your asshole

“C’mon sweetheart, fall apart for me, so gorgeous on my cock, love feeling you gush all over me.”

—I pondered long and hard about Tengen’s dick (both puns intended 🤗)

—Lemme organize my thoughts for a sec…

—Girth (from wide to slim): Gyomei, Tengen, Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyuu, Obanai

—Length (from long to ~short): Gyomei, Tengen, Kyojuro, Sanemi, Giyuu, Obanai

In other words, as the second tallest, Tengen also happens to be the second biggest 🙃

—I initially considered putting him behind Kyo in terms of length, but 198cm aka 6’6” vs 177cm aka 5’10”... the math just wouldn’t have mathed 😆

Erect, Tengen measures a solid 9 inches, and if Obanai’s dick is veiny, then Tengen’s dick = veins GALORE 😵

“Even my dick is flashy! 😎” “It has ✨decor✨!”

His shaft bends slightly downward (blame gravity — his dick’s so fucking heavy 😌), so certain positions can be a bit tricky, but damn if he doesn’t rearrange your insides 🤪

Def enjoys being the center of attention, fucking slow and confident into your stretched out hole, dirty talk muffled by Makio’s thighs as he maintains a steady rhythm licking her folds, Hina’s index finger slim and practiced as she stimulates your clit, Suma’s tongue gliding wet and hot against Tengen’s taint

“What was that?” Makio coos, eyes twinkling as she grinds firmly onto Tengen’s mouth, “We can’t understand you dear,” squealing when he smacks her tits, “You seem a bit preoccupied, try speaking up.”

“S-shit,” you gasp, gripping Hina’s hand, pressure building as Tengen thrusts sharply into you, “D-don’t encourage him Makio,” whining as Hina latches onto your nipple, sucking lightly

“Why not?” Makio giggles, ass wiggling playfully, “Can’t take it?” knowing all too well that, ultimately, your pussy’s paying the price for her teasing

“Hm, you’re so messy babe,” Suma sighs contently, pausing her ministrations to kiss Tengen’s thigh, lips shiny w/ spit and your essence, “Seems like you want Makio to encourage him.”

Hina nods in agreement, eyes narrowed devilishly, twisting your other nipple, “Her clit’s throbbing,” spoken w/ unbearable casualness, “I think she’s going to cum.”

“Are you going to cum?” Tengen asks conversationally, finally taking a breath from Makio’s pussy, engorged tip twitching in your cunt, “I’ve hardly ruined you, and you’re already spasming on my cock.”

“T-tengen,” you whimper, clenching at his taunting tone, falling forward, cheek smooshed into Makio’s back, “So fucking d-deep,” stuttering as the new angle forces his fat head flush to the entrance of your cervix

“Think we can get her to squirt?” Tengen hums smugly, a hypothetical question, really, as you begin convulsing, pussy gushing messily onto his stomach, Hina’s hand glistening, ignoring your meek mewls of T-too much! as she continues rubbing your clit, Suma lapping at your cum as it coats Tengen’s balls, trickling between his asscheeks

[euphoricfilter]

domestic daydreams:

[cheese sandwiches at the park tomorrow]

pairing: influencer! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || established relationship || non-idol au ||

summary: a window into the life of jeon jungkook

word count: 1.2k

tags/ warnings: just lots and lots of fluff its sickening

notes: am slightly tempted to turn this into a mini series because there's so much to talk about...

where you can find all my other stuff!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

Jungkook thinks both you and himself had always been connected by the delicate knots of the red string of fate. Possibly a constrictor knot, because it only ever seemed to grow tighter with every moment you spent together, impossible to untie as your souls start to intertwine and lives mingle into one.

His ever-growing infatuation with you, evident to his online audience.

Because he had no issue showing you off, talking about you in videos and sharing you with the wider world. He thinks it must be a tingly sort of satisfaction he gets, knowing that no matter how many faceless people love you, he will forever love you more. No matter how many people compliment you with how pretty you are, comments flooded with praise for your mere existence, he will forever appreciate you the most. Your entire being a precious little thing that he has sewn into his fragile human heart, yours forever to keep.

He knows he’s able to touch you in ways no one else can. He knows he’s able to wake up to you each morning, press soft lips to soft skin, warm under calloused hands as eye lashes tickle tender skin as the sun leaks through the curtains. Each passing moment peacefully quiet until you murmur his name, fingers pressing into his skin as you pull him closer for a kiss.

He’d started posting online only months before meeting you, a little creative outlet to get rid of that itch of not taking media, but rather choosing game design. A subject he loved dearly, though desperate to visualise his life through moving image and all the cool things that come with that.

And during the months of you talking, his presence online slowly started to take off. What had once been only a creative outlet morphing into such a huge part of his life. Something he had wanted to keep from you for so long, a little whisper in his brain worried it would send you running. With some of the comments he received, dms from both men and women alike, he wasn’t exactly sure how to bring it up to you.

And he knows in hindsight it was a silly little worry because you loved every part of him. Loved that he shared little parts of his life with so many people. Passions clipped into videos, well-loved equipment laying around his apartment, something so wholly Jungkook you found yourself beaming whenever he would get the tripod out to film himself cooking, or planning a design for an assignment, or just little clips of nature when the both of you go on walks.

Because what had once been a video diary for Jungkook had slowly become a video diary for you too, perfectly crafted memories that you find yourself watching when you’re alone. Always so hard to keep the smile off your face as you see how happy you are. Because that’s what Jungkook makes you; incredibly happy.

You watch as he tries to balance his phone against a bag of pasta neither of you had wanted to put away the night before, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you watch him struggle.

“Why don’t you get the tripod?” you murmur, catching his attention.

Jungkook turns to look at you, eyes a little wide, “Because I just want to film me making our lunch” he tells you.

“Besides—” he continues, “that would mean I have to go into the bedroom, and I don’t feel like being apart from you today” he says as he turns back to his phone, fiddling around with the settings a little so the light from the kitchen window wouldn’t look so harsh.

Your lips quirk up into a smile, toes curling into the floor.

“I would come with you” you sit up a little straighter, catching a glimpse of his face on the screen of his phone, “we could even hold hands too”

Jungkook pauses, hands pressing into the counter as he narrows his eyes at you over his shoulder, “Are you patronising me?”

Your nose scrunches up at that, “No” you start, “just so you know, I love holding your hand”

He hums, “Well then I guess you’re lucky… I like holding your hand too”

“Oh—” your eyes widen, “It’s gonna fall”

Jungkook winces when his phone tips forward, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he lifts it back up again.

You push the chair away from the table, slipping your own phone out of your pocket, laying it flat against the counter so his will stop slipping.

“Thank you, baby” he leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek, face only an inches away from yours when he decides it isn’t enough and presses a firm kiss to your lips too.

“Now,” he nods, “let’s make us lunch”

You push yourself to sit on the counter by his phone as he hits record, smiling up at you as he starts talking.

“Me and Y/n went shopping earlier and saw this new cheese I wanted to try, so I’m gonna make us sandwiches for lunch” he says, pulling the chopping board closer to himself as he pulls the drawer open to get a knife.

“Cucumber” he shows the camera, quick as he cuts it up, “and today we’re having tomatoes, but none for the pretty girl because she doesn’t like them” he explains, showing off the produce his dad had been growing in their garden, proud smile on his face as he hands you a slice of cucumber to eat while he finishes preparing lunch.

You slip off the counter when he calls you over, hesitant to step in frame and see yourself on camera. Jungkook steps a little closer to you, arms slipping out of frame to hold your hands as he looks down at you, so much adoration in his eyes.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes” he whispers, already knowing where your hesitation stems from, “always such a pretty little thing”

You glance over at the camera, video still recording, “Jungkook… your video” you murmur.

“Doesn’t matter” he shakes his head, “you know you don’t have to be in it if you don’t want to” he tells you, “Whatever you’re comfortable with, yeah?”

“We could film something tomorrow” you say, “we should go to that park again, maybe have a picnic?”

His lips quirk up into a smile, “I’d like that” he nods, “And if this cheese is any good, we can make even better sandwiches”

“Good point” you nod, “I’ll have to take you up on that offer if you make a solid lunch today” you step away from him, eyeing the finished sandwich sat on the chopping board.

“I always make the best lunches” he tells you, reaching into a cupboard for two plates.

“Our favourite girl doesn’t want to be on camera today” Jungkook mumbles, mouth half full of food as he looks at himself before glancing at you on the opposite side of the table, “But what’s the verdict, baby?”

You chew, nodding as you give him a thumbs up, Jungkook returning the gesture as his eyes curl up into a smile.

“Love you” he swallows.

“Love you too” you pucker your lips, watching as he leans over the table to press a kiss to your lips.

[severepink]

Ancient Adam! My Design and some thoughts I had about situations/his thoughts.

Kind of a ficlet!

Adam felt a deep sense of anger that bordered on resentment when Eve began crying for the small bird he'd managed to shoot with the tool an angel had instructed him to make.

Somehow, his wife just seemed lost, unable to cope with the situation they'd been forced into.

Hunger gnawed within them both, thirst was ever present, but she would waste precious waters on empathy for a singular source of food he'd managed to find and hunt to sustain her ever growing stomach.

New life. That is what the angel had told him. New life that he was expected to propagate and care fore on top of feeding and sustaining himself and his life.

This creature would hardly be enough for Eve, unless he found another creature... Unless he refined this tool given to him, a tool Eve despised, they would die.

The resentment was only held at bay, because he could not afford giving into his anger. A life alone, a life without her, wasn't one he would have any strength at all to live.

-

The smoke from the wood made him more ravenous than he thought. He'd managed to find another animal, a much, much larger animal with horns and muscle.

He'd managed to strike it perfectly, the feather's he'd added to the end of the arrow made it fly just as the bird had.

Eve was better at breaking the animals he hunted down. He enjoyed resting, after a long hunt, and watching her delicate, intricate fingers work through the flesh and sinew with the knapped rock he'd created for this purpose.

She'd come a long way. It pained him, knowing she desensitized herself, the innocent care she'd had for the animals they'd once been so like, masked and hidden as they tried to survive. While he was gone, she attempted to forage. They continued moving further and further into lands that had green, not the same kind of green as Eden had, but green enough to sustain more creatures. More water too. She'd said she watched the animals to know what could be safe, but also rubbed the flowers, bark, and roots she found on her skin just to be sure when she tasted them to find something edible.

Some of the green she found, she added to the meats he'd caught. The scent, the taste, it was all compounded. As he sat there, his mouth rested against the bow. He gnawed at it, his stomach gurgling and growling, ever persistent in its hunger, only made worse by the long and arduous task of tracking and hauling an animal back to her. The latent energy and nervousness that came from their starvation made him huff out at the same time he plucked the string of his bow. He jumped at the vibration that touched his teeth and echoed out of his mouth, his honey brown eyes widen in shock. The noise alerts Eve, who seems panicked, before he plucks experimentally again. A mischievous smile crosses his face.

-

The blood on his hands reminded him of the first time Eve gave birth. It reminded him of the wound's he'd experienced when being attacked by the lions that prowled after the same prey he needed. Sometimes he could not look away from the blood, how it reflected in his mind, that shining, gleaming apple that'd torn him from his perfect home. The same, glistening, shining red that ever reminded him that he would die. Every death of every creature he hauled back to Eve desensitized him more and more. It was beginning to become fun, hunting these creatures down. Rewarding to wrap his beautiful, perfect, precious family within the hides of these terrible, fascinating beasts. Eve looked beautiful, the leathers she stitched hugged her curves and incited the ordained directive within his loins. He wished to see her grow large. Her stomach, her hips, her thighs. There should be more meat on her bones, more children inside of her, more milk in her breasts. More, more, more.

That would require more of him. More of them both. To sustain more mouth's to feed, he couldn't do it just by his bow alone. He also couldn't do it when Cain cried loudly into the night. The sound often attracted predators, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still he staid alert, bow in hand while his boy cried and his wife fretted. Eve had found a crop of small seeds that she harvested many of and ground up into a paste to layout before the fire. She'd done this a time or two, mixing it with her herbs. It tasted delicious, especially when paired with the animal fat. His stomach roared almost as loud as a lion, but he focused on looking at his wife while she rocked and tutted his son. She hummed some soft tune, she named them Lilith-Bai's, much to his distaste, anger, and dismay. He complained plenty, but she persisted, claiming it would scare off his ex-Wife and her fiendish, fallen angel Lucifer, protecting their son. A chord of spite was struck in him, as she sang to quiet their son. Lilith-Bai. He would join Eve, cradling his bow to his mouth and plucked at the string, allowing the vibrations to fall into harmony with his wife's soft singing. The sound echoed into the night and Adam lost himself to the sensation and peace, the noise of his stomach quieting under his focus on creation of sounds. After a while, he realized his son and wife had both gone quiet and a short-lived panic coursed through his heart. "Adam, don't stop playing," His wife admonished him softly from across the fire. His small boy, his tiny son, had his mother's eyes. Those eyes were focused and aware of him. "Cain stopped crying... He likes your noisy bow... It seems it's good for more than just murder," No matter how tired he was. No matter how much he anguished mentally at the loss of his original home. No matter his loss of peace. No matter the shame and embarrassment he felt. The pride that was stoked in his heart from seeing his small family, made every sacrifice worth it. They made living a life outside of paradise worth it.

[writer-komaru]

₊˚ᜊ₍ᐢ. ̞.ᐢ₎ᜊ˚₊ Devil’s Playmate ✦.˚ ; • . ★⋆’. °࿐࿔

✧Rating: Smut (exhibitionism + tons of dirty talk + face sitting + Fem/Afab!Reader)

✧Characters: Nagito

✧Word Count: 4.3k

✧Summary: It all starts with you accepting an innocent cup of hibiscus tea from your lovely but troublesome servant Nagito, the same kind of tea you’re given every morning. As you continue about your day with him at your side, you begin to feel a bit off. This weird feeling has driven itself under the expanse of your delicate skin, leaving it heated and flustered. But a lady like you had no time to entertain silly urges like lust. Little did you know the faithful servant you always keep by your side is growing more and more concerned for you. Don’t be surprised if he decides to take matters into his own hands to relieve that desire burning oh so painfully between your thighs. As you fall into his carefully laid out trap, you realize just who’s the servant after all.

It all began on a quite unremarkable morning. You rest comfortably upon your plush velvet armchair while reading a book dressed in a faded red cover. You flip through a few of the aged manila pages before snapping the book shut, unamused at the little waiting game you’ve been forced to participate in.

“He’s late,” you remark out loud.

It was ten minutes past the eleventh hour, and he was yet to arrive with your cup of hibiscus tea, with exactly two cubes of sugar. He’s always been quite punctual. “How strange,” You make a note to speak with him about this sudden shift in behavior the moment you next see him. And as if on cue, a very hurried flurry of fuzzy white hair hurls its way into your parlor, gasping heavily.

“My mistress, my deepest apologies for my tardiness-“

“Speaking before being spoken to? Who might be because you’re clearly not my precious lapdog,” you inspect your groomed nails and flick your wrist, as if flinging a dagger right next to his head to put him in his place. He shivers at the silent threat and gets onto his knees.

“I suppose I’ve had worse servants,” she sighs and gently picks up the tempered glass teacup he set down on your side table, “But you still have quite a bit to learn.”

He offers a short nod and keeps his head low. Maybe he’s finally got his head in straight.

“Now speak, explain your attendance,” you motion for him to sit up. He does so and smiles gently at you, as if pleased just to be spoken to.

“A million apologies would not be enough to make up for my lateness, my mistress, I know. I am more than ashamed of myself. The reasoning is I unfortunately misplaced one of the key ingredients for your morning tea and spent a good deal of time retracing my steps,” he recounts.

You spare him a curt glance as you take the first sip of your tea. The flavor is just as fragrant and rich as ever with a tinge of something sweet. Did he add something to your tea without consulting you first?

“And what might this ever so important secret ingredient be?” You raise a curious eyebrow, making him sweat nervously.

“T-there’s no need to worry; it was just a mere drop of honey, my mistress. I noticed your slight distaste for the new blend of tea I’ve been brewing for you so I decided to add some sweetest. The only problem was after unpacking the new bottles yesterday, I happened to misplace them. How unfortunate…” he sighed in regret.

“I think I understand now. I’ll let it slide this time but remember to be more punctual,” you add as you continue helping yourself to your tea and your book. You would have resorted to a harsher punishment if he was anyone else but you understand these little slip ups are all caused by his curse of a luck cycle. No use punishing something out of his control. You wave him off with your foot, too consumed in your own affairs. After kneeling one more time, gently grasping your clothed foot to kiss the top, he rises and exits the room. A small amused grin is hidden behind the crimson cover of your book.

Once your morning tea has run dry, it’s time for the next objective in your long schedule: A brisk walk through the gardens to inspect the landscaper’s work, followed closely by an important meeting with an esteemed author looking to sell their rare collection of discontinued books. Then the annual check in with the servants of the house to make sure everything is in order. After that is a well deserved ride around town on horseback. Lastly, to finish off your day you have a few letters to pen before dusk. Quite a busy day you have ahead of you, but you won’t be doing this alone. As you depart your study, Nagito, your servant from before, appears at your side.

“How are you feeling after your tea break, my mistress?” He inquired with a gentle smile.

“Delightful, as usual,” you nod, not sparing him a glance.

“That’s wonderful to hear, my lady. If there’s anything you’d like to ask of me, please, I’m yours to command,” he urges.

“Nothing I can think of. Won’t you join me on my daily walk out in the gardens?” You offer.

His eyes sparkle with enthusiasm, “O-Of course, I’d be honored! How lucky am I… to go from a tardy mess to a- oh, forgive my mindless rambles, my mistress,” he chuckles apologetically and shuts his mouth tight. You two make your way out the back of the mansion and enter the lush gardens. Workers can be seen throughout the sprawling green fields preening the hedges, watering flowers, and plucking weeds. Truly a sight behind. You reside yourself strolling through the winding paths of ivy and petals, each one more radiant than the last. As your fingertips trace over the delicate buds, you feel a subtle heat spanning over your cheeks. The sensation is strange but not enough to raise any concern.

“My lady, you’re looking a bit red. May I offer this parasol as shade?” Nagito opens the parasol and holds it above your head, blocking you from the harsh rays of the sun.

“Thank you kindly,” you softly smile at him before continuing your walk. As you examine the flora, the heat of before persists. It starts to make you feel slightly dizzy, but a lady must continue her task no matter the circumstance. Your wandering eyes lock onto your servant. He’s dressed in a loose fitting, rufflely white shirt with tight black slacks, a few silver rings adorn his fingers. They are actually his prized possessions he was gifted by you on his birthday, resulting in a hurricane of thank you’s and tears. He looked rather dashing, even if the outfit was rather simple. D-did you just…? You purse your lips and snap your attention away and back to the matter at hand. A lady of your high class shouldn’t be checking out her servant in such a unbefitting way. What has gotten into you?

“My lady, are you alright? You look a touch bothered by something. Can I be of assistance?” Nagito asks compassionately with an innocent tone.

“It’s nothing, I just feel a bit off today,” you brush off the question and make your way inside with your servant following closely behind.

“A bit off? Could you elaborate a little more, my lady?” He pushes, cocking his head to the side in a curious manner. Your dart around the hallway, noticing a few maids dusting the tables and fixing the curtains. A more secluded space would be best.

As if reading your thought process word for word, he carefully leads you to one of the spare rooms reserved for guests. You gasp as he hooks a finger under your chin to examine your rosy cheeks, the proximity making this unknown heat under your skin flare up.

“Oh my… my lady, you don’t seem well. Did you have a fever? But you haven't shown any other symptoms… oh, I’ve got it! It’s most likely a sunburn from over exposure to the sun? Forgive me for not fetching a parasol sooner, my mistress. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you by alleviating any ailments you might be having. Please, rest on the bed while I gather some medicine for you, my mistress,” he bows before making a quick exit. You humor him by taking a seat at the edge of the neatly tucked bed. The gall he has to give you orders… As you wait patiently for his return, the heat from before spreads under your skin, focusing its assault on the plush region between your thighs. In no way is this some silly sunburn; It felt as though your lower area had been ignited with the fires of lust by Eros himself. Whoever was playing this cruel joke on you clearly doesn’t know who they're messing with.

“I’ve returned, my mistress! I’m sorry to make you wait for so long, I have bad news. The author is already here waiting for you in the meeting room on floor three,” he races to your side and returns to his knees as an apology. How greatly unfortunate… Maybe your servant’s poor luck was contagious.

“Fine then. Let us go; we can’t leave him waiting,” you rise swiftly to your feet and make your way to the stairs. No matter how badly her body craves attention, a true lady must always put aside her own needs to attend to her duties.

“M-my lady, you don’t look well, maybe we should-“ he tries to reach for your hand only for it to be swatted away.

“Someone clearly has problems holding their tongue. Maybe I should rip it out so it won’t give you any problems speaking out of turn again. Would you like that?” You warn with a scathing glower.

“N-no, my lady! I would like to keep my tongue i-if that’s an option,” he chuckles nervously, shuffling behind you.

“Then know your place,” you brush him off and enter the room in front of you where the author is waiting patiently. You take a seat in front of him and cross your legs and Nagito kneels down next to you by your feet. As you and the author are discussing the book series you plan on buying from them, your legs shift around uncomfortably from the aching feeling under your dress. You notice his eyes peeking down at your shifting legs every so often before immediately glancing to the floor. He was always so very caring but now was really not the time for his inappropriate stares. Even the slightest attention to your lower area made the process of hiding it more difficult than it needed to be. When the author turned around to unpack the books in his briefcase, your servant placed a gentle hand on your thigh, looking up at you with sweet puppy dog eyes like he’s pleading for something. If it’s what you think it to be he’d be in for a thorough punishment later.

“Please tell me what’s wrong, mistress…” he whispered to you, his hand stroking down the thigh. You flicked away his wandering hand and focused back on the array of books strewn out on the table. You picked up the first book of the series and began flipping through it. The text was neatly printed, its pages pearly white and free of aging. It was in excellent condition, considering it’s a much older series. As you neared the middle, a strange tickling sensation kept up your thigh from under your fluffy dress. You bite your lip and ignore it, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of someone you’re trying to make a deal with.

“I think I know what’s wrong, my lady… your body is all wound up….” His airy voice drifts out from under the tablecloth, “Don’t worry… a good servant always attends to the needs of his lady~”

Just as you’re about to yank him out from under the table, his delicate fingertips trace the area next to your lacy panties.

“Uh… if everything is alright, miss? You look a bit bewildered,” the author asks.

You clear your throat, “Forgive my rudeness, but there’s an important matter I must attend to this very second. It won’t take long, please wait for my return,” you give a short curtsy to the author and step away from the table, yanking your naughty servant out from under the table and pulling him roughly out of the room. You can only imagine the horror on that poor author's face. After a speedy jaunt to your bedroom, she pushes him onto the bed and curses his name.

“The damned whore, how dare you try something like that not only in front of such a famous author but also without permission. I should have you exiled from the mansion, if not the whole nation for that! What do you have to say for yourself?” You snarl, towering over him with a violent aura.

“My lady, please forgive my inappropriate actions, all I wish to do is to serve you,” he soothes, laying on his back and pulling you closer to him by the hips, “try as you might to hide your needs but you should know you can’t keep a secret from me~”

You try to step back from his menacing words, “what do you mean by that?”

“Would you please allow me the privilege to show you?~” he coos to you after pulling you back and onto his thighs. You groan as your clothes sex accidentally swipes over his sturdy thigh, covering your embarrassed blush with the back of your hand.

“Oh? My lady, if you’re trying to seem like you’re an abstaining, pure soul, forgive me for this, but you’re not doing that great of a job,” he smirks up at you. This devil of a man under you is clearly getting a rise from tempting your body's cravings.

“I told you, it’s nothing, now release me so I can go back t-hnngg~” an uncontrollable moan escapes your lips as he drags your hips up his body, grinding your sex over his stomach and up to his chest. The relief of touch on the throbbing location felt like pure bliss but you knew he was just messing with you. You wouldn’t dare give him the honor of another pleasured groan so you force yourself to look away.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t have any urges a servant like me could take care of? Not a single ache, bruise, or itch?~ If I’m allowed to gloat just a bit, I’m veerryy good at relieving urges~” He purred softly, pressing your plush thighs against either side of his head, your twitching sex hovering over his panting mouth. His eyes were glazed over with desire like he’s in a trance, his mouth streaming with drool, face covered in a deep blush. He looked like even more of a mess than you did.

“N-no, not in the slightest,” you stammer out.

“Are you sure?~ well, then… I don’t think you’d mind if I… just give this spot down here a check, just in case~” he bites his lip as he pulls your panties to the side, strings of drooling desire clinging to the thin fabric. He audibly moans at the sight, licking his lips.

“Oh my…. My mistress, it seems like I’ve found the source of the problem… your poor sex is crying out for some attention. Did something happen to make you so unbelievably turned on? Does it hurt… my lady?~” he murmurs to you, tracing a finger over your swollen bud. Even though the touch was faint and barely there, it still had your cunt clenching around nothing, an unsightly and almost inhuman amount of slick pooling onto his chin.

“Y-you… if my mind wasn’t so… cloudy, I’d knock some sense into you. B… but… yes, I guess… it does hurt a bit,” you hesitatingly admit, being met with a delighted moan.

“Just as I thought. There’s no need to fret, my mistress. Your servant is here to make all your problems go away…~ All this pussy needs is some good service and you’ll feel better in no time,” he chuckles with a friendly smile, a pure contrast to the sinful looks he was giving your cunt only a few seconds ago.

“You dare speak in such a vulgar way to me?!” You snarl down at him.

“Come on… I know your womanhood is craving something…” he teases, swiping his index finger along your labia.

“M-my ‘womanhood’ has no such cravings. Seize this nonsense of I-I’ll.. ah…” you let out another groan as he rubs over your puckering entrance. You honestly didn’t know if you wanted to yank him by the hair so smash his lewd mouth against your pussy or fling him straight into the dungeon and leave his incubus nature to rot there alone.

“Oh but mistress, you can deny it all you want, but your body only speaks the truth. I can tell how badly it wants my fingers stretching it out… or better yet, why not just let it sit right here on my face. You don’t even have to worry if I can breathe or not~ I won’t complain,” he grins and inches your body closer. It’s taking all your strength to hold your body up and away from the temptation nudged right between your trembling thighs.

“Just a little bit further~ the longer you try to hold yourself back, the longer you’ll be leaving the author waiting. You wouldn’t want him to come looking for you just to see you riding your poor servant's mouth like some sort of prostitute~” he teases, stroking your inner thighs some more. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Against every thought in your mind, you lower yourself fully onto his awaiting tongue.

“Tha-Ahh!~ that’s it~ there you go, mistress~ now just use my mouth in any way you want. Use me as the slutty toy I am, my horny mistress~” his voice cracks from the pure levels of pleasure racing through his body right now, digging his nails into your thighs as your body slowly begins to rock against his mouth. And damn, was he good with his mouth. You’ve never felt anything quite as pleasurable as the feeling of his tongue lapping up the slick pouring from your entrance, teasing the rim before shoving its length inside. His nose perfectly rubs against your sensitive clit, making your whole entire body shake. Your back aches as a needy moan rips from your throat, humping against his tongue like this is your first time experiencing real pleasure. You felt like nothing more than a common whore dressed in the diamonds and gowns of a privileged lady. Nagito had that effect on you.

“Why… aghhh.. how… Hahh Ahh… how am I… this turned on?” You stammer out between broken moans and grunts.

“Just a little trick I have up my sleeve~ or… more like it your tea~ heheh, but there’s need to dwell on it, just focus on using me for your pleasure~ The true role… of a servant~” he babbles to himself as the tip of his tongue nudges your g spot.

A loud moan erupts from your throat, “Hahh- Aghh!! Oh.. oh my… d.. damn you…”

“Oh?~ did my dirty touch hit a sensitive spot? What would happen if I did it again, I wonder?” He smirks up at you before thrusting his wet muscle against the sponges spot inside your walls that had you grasping his hair for dear life.

“Agh… you… damned mutt…” You continue linking together a string of curses and degrading words as you feel a worrisome sensation straining against your cunt. The more his tongue pounds into your sex, the stronger this sensation gets.

“Come on, mistress… just a little bit longer… the release you’ve been longing for for so long is almost ready to burst~” he giggles in delightful anticipation.

“I hate you so much…” she groans, knowing this whole entire problem is definitely his doing. The servant before you, the one slurping up your pussy like it’s his last fucking meal, has always such a tease. Images of all the explicit situations he’s gotten you into before flood your mind as you prepare for your final release. You hated how he tempts you into such lustful acts with knowing damn well his lower position of power in regards to you but every time he found his way in between your legs, it always made you remember the kind of servant he is. He’s not a butler, secretary, assistant, or any only formal word in the book. He was a toy, your toy to use for your pleasure, as he calls it. But it always feels like it’s the other way around. As his hot tongue fucks in and out of your tight pussy, you both can tell how close to the edge you are.

“Please my mistress, please grace my tongue with the delicious taste of your cum~” he begs in garbled words, babbling nonsense like he’s lost his mind; like he’s high off the taste of your sweet nectar.

“Aghhhh.. Hahhh.. ha- ah! O-okay… fine. But just… j-just one. Only once, got it?” You shoot him a glare.

“Yes my lady, only one~ only one, that’s all~ hehe… hahah… ahhahaaa~” his sinister cackles leave you questioning if he really means it. The quivering on your pussy gets stronger and stronger as it threatens to release sprays of steamy cum into the needy expanse of his mouth. His eyes roll back into a beautiful sight of depravity as your cum spills onto his mouth, painting his lips, nose, and entire face in a layer of thick liquid. The sight is downright appalling, enough to make anyone grimace.

You quickly recover from the euphoric blast of an orgasm he just gave you and tries to lift off his tongue, “I think I've had enough of thi- huh?”

Nagito’s face, more specifically his eyes, swirl like two dark pools of inescapable lust, dragging you in. He forces your body firmly on his tongue and continues to eat you out, “My apologies, but I think I’ve missed a spot… just one more orgasm should clear it right up~”

“Oh no, don’t you even thi- Aghh, t-think about it, you better stop or… or… nghhh hah~” your voice trembles with rage as you try to pry your shaking body off his slutty mouth.

“Please my mistress, just one more~ I can’t be a good servant unless I thoroughly relieve every desire your body clings onto. This won’t take long, I promise~” the mischievous expression on his face clearly states otherwise but the dreadfully good drag of his tongue along your cunt, giving your clit a couple playful sucks as if you're throwing any other needs out the window. The only thoughts you’re thinking right now is riding his face until he eventually lets you go.

“There you go… just like that~ use me… use me for your pleasure~ that's all I want, all I could ever want. I exist only to bring you a countless amount of orgasms~ my only use is being your sex toy~ so please, use me however you see fit! Just as long as you keep smothering me with that beautiful, beautiful pussy~” he coos almost like he’s talking to your sex itself. His tongue leaves you lost in the sea of desire, making you feel so good you wouldn’t be surprised if every servant in the mansion could hear your cries of bliss.

“What a naughty mistress… I bet everyone can hear you, clear as day. You like that though, don’t you? I think you do… you like the idea of the people who wait on your every need hearing you cry out another servant’s name… the prim and proper lady they serve turned into a whore all because of my pathetic excuse of a tongue. Maybe… maybe they’re getting horny… you like that thought?” His words and pure filth but you just can’t stop letting them consume you.

“Uhuh.. yes… oh… ohhh god yess~” you tilt her head back and release a moan.

“You like the thought of all your servants unable to control themselves while listening to you moan above me? I wonder what they could be doing… maybe they’re all touching themselves… they know they shouldn’t but they just can’t help it. They're just too horny to control themselves~ Just like you, mistress,” he snickers devilishly. All this arousal, all this teasing was really starting to get to you. Drool and tears made your makeup melt off your face, staining your angelic satin dress. If you weren’t so fucked out you’d totally punish him for a lifetime for everything he’s done: Dirtying your dress, interrupting your meeting with an important person, touching you multiple times without permission, disobeying commands… but you won’t again think of his tongue. His skilled, hot tongue rubbing against every spot in your pussy that had you on the verge of cumming was practically your weakness. He knew this fact all too well.

“Does my mistress have a secret kinky side?~ Could you be just as sinful as me?~ then come on, my lady… let us be consumed in desires together… don’t stop cumming till I suffocate against your pussy… and even then, just keep using my body. Aghh yess… to be used by you… it’s my only desire… I’ll please you… I’ll please you for days if you’d like… so please…. Give me an order~ P-please, oh please my mistress, order me!~” he cries out in desperation, his hips jumping in the air for any slight bit of friction his tight slacks can’t offer him.

“An order… I… aghhh… I order you t-to keep going… and don’t stop t-till… you fulfill your role as… my sex slave,” you finally manage out, greeted with an immediate guttural moan.

“Y-yesss oh gods yess I will, I- Ahh, I will, I will I will! For you I’ll be the best sex slave e-ever~ I’ll please you, I please you, I swear! I’ll make you cum… I’ll make you lose your mind… just watch me… watch me work my magic on your gorgeously horny body…~” he babbles between slurps and moans as his tongue shoves itself deeper into your gooey pussy. In that moment you finally realized the truth. You’re not the true mistress who uses your little slutty toy for your own pleasure, you’re the slutty toy he uses for his own pleasure. But there’s nothing that can be done to change it besides applying more and more weight to his hungry mouth. He chuckled maddenly to himself…

All according to plan~

Reblog + Comment + Like if you enjoyed and like to see more Danganronpa or Nagito specific content!~

(Sorry for that break, I needed a moment’s peace to realize why I’m writing in the first place. I’m back in action so don’t worry! Aaaaaand I’ll immediately go back to hibernation from binge writing this in only a few hours. Stay turned for my next post, love you guys!!~)

(Tags!~ 🏷️)

@nambii @carticarti

[fanaticsnail]

When We Wake

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Blissfully waking within the arms of your lover, you are both struck with the thoughts of how precious you have become to one another. Whispering confessions of adoration to one another while the other slumbers, you are both completely overcome with such deep devotion.

Themes: established relationship, sir Crocodile x reader, gn!reader - non gendered descriptors, suggested nudity, kisses, confessions of love, sir Crocodile is soft for you, romance, romantic imagery, morning kisses, lazy kisses.

Notes: @carrotsunshine wanted a lovestruck Crocodile to read when she finished work today. I had no choice, my hands were bound and I stayed up past midnight again getting it done. While Croco is not one of the regular characters to write for, I did find myself falling for him a little in this fic. @since-im-already-here suggested the song, because smol-snail is a queen. Was written on my phone.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita

Song: Until I Found You - Stephen Sanchez, Em Beihold

Falling asleep, content within the arms of a lover is a luxury Sir Crocodile never knew he could afford. Although extremely wealthy, he deemed himself unworthy of such an exuberant opulence. For all his shortcomings in his youth, clawing with his right hand while grappling with his left hook to be within the lap of comfort all Berry could buy: this small slice of the heavens he carved for himself with you was priceless.

It was not so dissimilar for you. You had never known a love as passionate, as heated, nor as deep a connection as the one you shared with Sir Crocodile. He was your world, and you were his. These few moments together, before the world drew first breath and the symphony of birdsong would sing to welcome the dawn, you lay in complete syncronancy.

Your heartbeats would thump to the same rhythm, your lungs extend as you drew breath in the same soothing inhale before softly exhaling in unison. If one of you shifted to rotate, splayed fingertips would search in yearning to find each other's warmth within the night: shifting blankets to adjust the heat for one another accordingly.

If you fell out of rhythm together, after a night of sound, blissful slumber, and one of you woke first: the other would gaze fondly at the lover they had taken.

When Sir Crocodile awoke first, his right hand would rise from its position against your hip, slowly raking his fingers delicately along your skin. His calloused hand was coarse and rough, but his fingers were always soft and gentle for you.

Finally, as his fingers reach your shoulders, he massages your shoulder tenderly before raking his forearm over your body and tucking your slumbering form firmly secured against his chest. His eyes were half-hooded, gazing with the softest flutter of his lengthy eyelashes down at you.

“You are so precious to me, my moon,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a tender kiss softly against your hair, “A bright light that guides me through such horrors within my darkened past.” You barely stir within your sleep, unaware such deep, devoted confessions were being freely gifted from the smiling lips of your lover.

“You are the blood that swells my heart,” his breath tickled your temple as his scarred cheek nuzzled against the crown of your head, “It would be too simple a thing to kill for you, as it would be to die for you.”

Unconsciously, your body began to burrow into his chest within your slumber. A soft moan expelled itself from between your lips as you reveled in the contact of your bare skin against his own. His final confession was whispered like a prayer into your ear.

“You command my very soul, my spirit is yours to do with what you will,” he smiled as he felt you stirring within his arms, “Should you toy with me, torture me, or choose to trust me: either way, I am yours, and I will live my life for you.”

Upon hearing his words, your immediate response upon waking was to press a kiss within the hollow flesh of his jugular notch. His breath hitched, his eyes fluttering shut as a rumbled groan in bliss swelled within his chest.

“As I am yours, my beautiful Crocodile.”

Should you find yourself to be the first to rise, your breath would hitch as your eyes met with his face. Within his slumber, he managed to break away from your embrace. Lying on his back, his hair splayed down over his face, you notice the deep furrow of his brows and the soft shudder of a snarl.

Softly and cautiously, you draw up your hands over his broad chest to hover over his face. The bright lightning-sheen of his healed scar illuminated within the soft light of the morning. You slowly lean over him, your chest lying flush against his as you straddle his waist.

You splay your forearms over his chest, elbows barely reaching the shoulders of the large man as you lay your ear flush against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart began to slow, a deep, sleepy inhale of his breath sucked in through his lips and departed softly through his nose.

“You are the most precious thing to me, my beautiful Crocodile,” you confessed your deep devotion into his chest, “No gold, jewels, nor Berry could ever meet you as equal.”

Sweeping your cheek away from his chest, you brushed your nose against his chest before beginning a trail of soft and lazy kisses over his pectorals. For each kiss you planted, a confession was whispered into his skin.

“You are the greatest man I have ever known,” you pressed a deep kiss against his clavicle bone, “Your fierce devotion to me is only outmatched by my own to you.”

The swell of his chest beneath your body indicated he was beginning to stir within his deepest rest. He sighed as he raised his right arm to unconsciously pull you closer into his chest. You elevated your chin to gaze up into his dark, violet eyes that had barely split apart between the curtain of his eyelashes.

“You are my closest confidant, my most ferocious protector,” you pressed a lengthy kiss against his jaw before brushing the hair that shrouded his face from full view, “You are all mine.” His eyes were sleepily gazing down at you, feeling the shift of your body flush against his own.

“As you are all mine.”

But should you find yourselves back within that perfect synchrony, on very rare occasions, your eyelashes would flutter as the world around faded into view. The world, as both of you knew it within your souls, was within the arms of one another. The only world that mattered to you both in those fleeting moments, before obligation and commitments called to you; was only, and always, each other.

As your joint eyelids rose together, your glassy orbs found their peace within each others' gaze. You were always the first to smile, where he was always the first to reach out to pull your body against his.

It was always up for debate as to who uttered those sacred words first. The three sought after and holy words that bound you together as one life, one body, one heart, and one soul. Those simple words that had the most mighty and hardened soldiers stutter and stumble over them in their fluster.

Immediately meeting with your smiling lips, Sir Crocodile swooped down and captured them beneath his own. Always slow, the angle of his jaw would alternate with his chin extending down and rotating to depict his heated passion. The bridge of his nose brushed against your own, the rumble of his moan expelled within your mouth as yours fled into his.

Parting your lips, you sought out more contact with your body pressed firmly against your passionate lover. You hooked your arms over his neck as he braced his right arm and left forearm around your waist.

He rolled you over his chest, before using the propulsion of the swinging motion of your body to pin you beneath him. You squealed into his mouth in shocked joy, his lips never breaking their deep contact against your own. With your lover now between your legs, you clawed at his shoulders to tug him closer.

The deep furrow of his brow, and sharp inhale of breath through his nose, had you enchanted by his enthusiastic welcome to commence the day. Almost begrudgingly, he finally split contact away from your lips to smile down at your position beneath him.

Taking a moment to silently acknowledge each other, you slowly laced your hands within the ink-black strands at the back of his head just as he leaned down to press his forehead against your own. Your whispers were almost inaudible, this confession being so scared you both dare not present it to undesirable ears.

This confession was just meant for only each other, your lips brushing briefly as you both relayed your devotion in perfect, unified symphony.

“I love you.”

[saetoru]

[ DEAL ] ITOSHI SAE.

sae’s strict.

his schedule’s packed and his time is precious and he doesn’t waste a second on the clock. you’re pretty sure his body doesn’t need the blaring alarm in the early hours of the morning—you’re almost certain he can wake up on his own.

and it’s dreadful, it’s downright torturous when you’re pulled from the clutches of sleep by the shrill noise of his phone—but even worse is the warmth of his chest being peeled from under you, his body slowly climbing out of bed and leaving you alone.

“no,” you whine, “sae, it’s cold.”

“there’s a blanket here for a reason,” he mumbles—and he doesn’t even sound tired, doesn’t even sound like the achingly long hours of practice and the few hours of sleep bother him in the slightest.

“it’s not the same,” you say woefully, staring up at him. to your credit, you try, you really do. you try to give him your best pout, tugging his wrist gently to convince him back into bed.

but sae’s strict—he doesn’t skip a single thing off his schedule, and he doesn’t waste a single second in the process.

“don’t be dramatic. it’ll keep you warm,” he insists. he flicks your forehead gently, pulling the covers over your body and tucking them under your chin. “good?”

“no,” you huff.

he gives you a blank stare, eyeing you before moving to leave the bed again. but you have other plans, much more important plans than the stupid morning jog he insists on every day. you’re already clinging to him before he can fully rise, face buried into his back as your arms wrap around his waist.

“sae, i’ll die. do you want me to freeze to death?”

“it’ll be silent at least,” he grumbles, pulling a gasp from you. and you don’t see it, but there’s a twitch of his lips, a small fond smile painting across his features at the way you huff at his statement.

“you’re rude,” you grumble, “just give me like…fifteen more minutes, please?”

“five,” he bargains.

“twenty.”

“that’s not how that works,” he raises a brow, making you giggle as you curl into the sheets. he stares, watches the traces of sleep linger in your eyes, watches as the sun pouring through the cracks of the curtains makes them a shade lighter, watches as you throw him that sickeningly sweet grin.

and then he’s back under the covers—and it happens before he can even register it, before he even fully understands what he’s doing. sae’s not sure why he lets you have your way, but his body’s tugged before he can even lay down properly, your cheek snuggled against his bicep as you hug his arm.

he thinks maybe he doesn’t mind it as much as he should.

and then he looks down at you, sees the way you give him that giddy smile, “i knew you’d cave. thirty more minutes, kay?”

“we agreed five,” he says flatly.

“sae, we did not.”

“okay, seven—”

“i raise you a great offer,” you cut him off, “twenty and i’ll even make breakfast.”

“it’s your turn anyway.”

“you’re a terrible business partner,” you pout, and he chuckles—in that soft, quiet way he only does around you, in that way where his eyes are crinkled and his smile is fond and his chest rumbles.

itoshi sae is beautiful like this, under the morning sun against your skin, when he lets you lace your fingers with his as his eyes soften just a little.

“ten,” he mumbles, “that’s my last offer.”

“fifteen and i’ll wash the dishes,” you plead. and you’re a cheater, he thinks, using dirty tricks as you lean up and press a delicate kiss to his cheek, trailing them along his jaw so convincingly, he closes his eyes and forgets for a moment about that strict schedule of his. he forgets about his morning run and practice and that match that’s coming up—because you’re here, and your lips are gentle and your voice is sweet as it murmurs, “i love you.”

“you’re cheating,” he mumbles, hand tightening its grip on yours. you smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead as you press a delicate kiss there too.

“‘s not cheating,” you hum, “it’s called good business tactics.” and then your lips hover over his own, and they’re so agonizingly close, so close that he can practically feel the soft press even as they don’t close the gap.

he waits for you to fill the space between you, aching for a taste of you, aching for you to press against him and complete every part that’s missing.

and almost like you know, almost like you know he’s waiting, you pull away, denying him what he craves so desperately.

there’s a grin on your face with just a hint of trouble in your eyes as you whisper, “twenty. deal?”

“you said—”

you peck the corner of his mouth, so close yet so far from where he needs you, “twenty and i promise i’ll let you leave on time tomorrow.”

“that’s a lie,” he snorts, “that was yesterday’s deal.”

“you keep agreeing,” you shrug.

“fine,” he sighs, “twenty. this is the last time,” he warns.

“kay, deal,” you nod. and it’s never really the last time—he knows you’ll tug him back into bed tomorrow too, just like today, just like yesterday, just like always.

sae’s strict, but maybe not so much with you. he’ll keep letting you have your way—he’s not entirely sure why, but maybe he understands a little when your lips finally press against his, firm and gentle at the same time, slow yet so desperately needy.

i love you, he says through extra morning cuddles and slow kisses and fond flicks to your forehead. i love you, you hear through the slow circles he rubs against the small of your back, through the blanket pulled over your shoulders and tucked under your chin, through that soft look he only has around you.

“you’re so annoying,” he grunts.

“you’re just mad because you suck at making deals,” you giggle.

“yeah? hope you have fun washing the dishes,” he smirks, and because he’s every bit of a cheater as you, he flicks your forehead as you whine, that quiet chuckle rumbling from his chest again.

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