#he can get so unhinged when pushed to the edge and i love it

[merakiui]

Ooooh now I'm imagining all sorts of Danganronpa style drama for Azul's trial. So many false leads and tricks!

Someone strong (like Leona) is found dead and weighted underwater, so everyone immediately suspects the 3 merfolk. Some unintentionally specist comments get thrown around. But that's too obvious, right? There's evidence that excludes them, and the arguments go elsewhere. Who is capable of overpowering the victim, etc.? He has injuries that indicate a struggle.

Some eventual evidence indicates the cause of death was drowning. Suspicion returns to the mers. Did they work together to keep him underwater while he fought? He's so strong, it's still hard to believe. Would two of them actually be willing to die while the other wins? There are scary rumors about the Leeches. Was Azul even involved? The Leech twins start playing up their sketchiness (they're angry by this point). But there can only be one killer.

To Azul's horror, someone ignorantly mentions there were circular imprints on the victim's arm (with a picture). He was extremely cautious! There is NO WAY he left sucker marks; he even checked afterward. If they were familiar with octomers, they'd know the marks aren't even the right shape!! He's flipping out now and messes up his words. Nervous chatter has always been a trait of his. The jury ends up deciding the three of them worked together, but Azul is the killer since he had to be the one holding the victim, causing his drowning.

Azul IS the killer, but he's so upset they got all the details wrong. He did everything himself. He meticulously planned everything, accounting for the victim's UM, and krakened him. But he did not leave any of the evidence mentioned and those sucker imprints are fake 😨😡💀!! Now he's going to die looking like a fool where he wasn't.

Before Azul's punishment, Jade reveals that he figured out it was Azul before the trial. He knows him too well. He planted the main evidence because, while he cares for Azul, he has no intention of letting himself and Floyd die for him.

I like the idea that the twins remain super sketchy and intentionally misleading for all the other trials, without actually ever being the killers. They're very angry, and its their way of grieving Azul.

YES YES YES!!!! This is the vision in its entirety!!!! orz the twins continuing to be suspicious menaces even after his execution is perfect.

Azul spends the majority of the game being annoyingly kind and helpful, if only to spread goodwill and reduce the risk of being targeted. He may cut a strikingly scary figure when he's with the twins, but the truth is that he's an animal of prey at heart and he'll do whatever it takes to survive. So as nice as he seems, it's all an act to keep himself safe and on everyone's good sides. He keeps his ears to the ground, always wanting to know as much as possible, and he is genuinely helpful in the trials, if not a little pompous.

But he's so anxious. The killing game is wearing on and he desperately wants to get out of here. How is he going to keep up with the lounge if he's stuck here? This is horrible! He's losing so much business with every passing second! On the surface, Azul keeps himself composed, but beneath perfect smiles and his obnoxious flair for theatrics he's cracking.

I imagine the trial is filled with twists and turns and it's so very convoluted. It couldn't possibly be one of the merfolk, right? Anyone with enough strength could have drowned the victim. It's very possible. Azul keeps his composure up until the moment when everyone starts to suspect and turn against him. His own logic is falling apart and though he's used to quick-paced arguments and discussions in business this is different. They can't be serious. Do they all really think he's the one at fault here? Honestly, he wouldn't revert to his true form to commit murder. Come on! That's foolish.

With all eyes on him, Azul starts to break. It's suffocating to be under such intense scrutiny. Everyone's accusing him of such a monstrous thing. They're all bullies! >:( it's not fair! He's only ever been good and helpful and obedient! Sure, he may have seemed suspicious when he was with the twins, but that's just how they are as a group! It's all just an act to look intimidating, to look strong, to look untouchable. He's not a killer. He's a businessman.

He snaps when the twins don't take his side. So they're just going to bully him, too? Is that it? And from there, everyone sees the real Azul. Foul-mouthed and impolite, he's pointing and yelling, insisting that it can't be him; it could never! Why would he throw his future away just to commit a crime? Why would he make such a risk?! He's a businessman! His eyes are blown wide with delirium. He's definitely breaking into a laughing fit during the trial like how he did during his overblot. >_< he's crazed... it's haunting to see. The twins would feel bad, but he chose this. You make your mistake and you pay for it. Isn't that what Azul always says when debtors refuse to pay what they owe?

He's hysterical until he isn't. Until he can no longer be. After the vote comes in and he's declared the blackened, he gets this far-off look to him. Maybe he's reflecting. Maybe he's not. Maybe he isn't even thinking at all. No one can tell.

It's strange to see the twins without Azul. Their terrifying trio is forever down a member.

[jamminvroomvroom]

second time around.

ln x fem!reader

in which he’s quite desperate to have a second kid.

staying in my active era! there is honestly no excuse for this one, i just simply couldn’t help myself. it’s porn, yes, there is plot, but it’s just. porn.

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! where do i even begin? smut, more smut, breeding kink (kinda the whole point), choking, overstimulation, general sex acts, public sex, car sex, shower sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of the kid they already have, lando being a little shit, sex somewhere unhinged in the mtc, a brief moment of angst, dom!lando, rough sex? yeah.

3.9k words

take: 1

the season is coming to an end.

somewhere between italy and singapore lando decides he wants another kid.

it’s a warm day in the middle of september when he proposes the idea to you. you’re watching your daughter toddle around the garden, soaking up the last remnants of sunlight before the darkness of autumn encapsulates the warm beams until march.

she giggles, pushing her toys around in the grass. you let her play, lost in her own little world of wonder. lando turns to you, scanning your side profile, watching you watch the little girl. he’s awestruck, enamoured totally by the family he’s created, by the woman he loves. he doesn’t think, he just opens his mouth and let’s loose his big idea.

“want another one?” he cooes, sliding closer across the bench, until he’s nosing at your cheek. kisses are pressed to your puffy face. it’s still early.

at first you think he’s offering you another coffee, so you hold out your almost empty mug to him. you’d been nursing the drink, letting it go cold in the naturally cooler air. he laughs at you, and that’s when you clock what he’s actually asking.

you turn to him, facing each other now. lando looks excited. you wonder if you can find a way to mirror his expression.

“lando…” you start. his face drops at your tone, letting him down easy. “it’s not that i don’t want to, it’s just-“

“i’ll be home more. i’ve worked it all out. if we get to work now, baby will be here around the summer break.”

you mull over his words.

your first baby was a shock to you both, and you didn’t fancy doing that again. you loved lando with every fibre of your being, just as you did your daughter, but being away from him so much in the lead up to her arrival shot every one of your nerves to pieces.

but another baby would be on the agenda eventually - you both desperately wanted to add to your beautiful family - and you supposed that if he’d done the math…

“by get to work now, you mean…?” you cock an eyebrow at him. he lights up like the christmas tree you’d be putting up in a few months.

“she’s going down for her nap soon.” lando smirks, voice edged with that excitement once again.

-

his head is between your legs mere moments after he shuts your bedroom door.

you’d been waiting for him, stripped bare in anticipation. your baby girl would be down for a good few hours, more than enough time for him to draw out everything you had to offer and fill you back up.

his tongue runs over your flesh; he’s messy with it. you’re choking out whimpers as he licks and laps and tugs with his teeth. your pussy clenches around nothing and he notices, sliding his fingers all over where you ache. they’re quickly wet enough to slide inside of you, and he grinds them deep, luring traces of an orgasm into the pit of your belly. it’s familiar, the way he winds you up, and you want him like this every minute of the day.

“getting you ready, honey. gonna get you so fucking ready.” lando is slurring words into your cunt, letting them get lost to your sodden folds. you hear every word perfectly. they make you shake and shake until you’re undone.

when he looks up at you, his mouth is glistening. his fingers are, too. he hates wasting a drop of you, so he laps up the mess you’ve made while he shuffles up the bed. when he’s finally hovering over you, he’s desperate, but you’re worse. you could cry from the urge.

something carnal is taking place; he’s staring into your soul, finishing up the remnants of your taste, and you’re begging with your eyes, hands slinking all over your own body. you must be dripping by now. your body is restless and you raise your hips, inviting him close, deep.

when he thrusts into you, he’s pinning you down into your shared mattress. you’re completely at his mercy and he fucking loves it. you love it more. you go slack underneath him, and he starts a slow grind. he’s not thrusting, not yet, he’s just rolling into you, deeper, deeper, deeper. you feel the first tears threatening to fall. he feels so good, it’s unbearable.

he nudges at your most sensitive spot, over and over and over. you whine carnally and he swallows it, licking into your mouth. his curls tickle your forehead, you’re pressed so close together. he sees the pools in your eyes and then he looses it completely.

hand on your neck for leverage, he starts thrusting, harder and harder, faster than you can ever recall. he knows you can take it, knows how bad you want it, and that thought alone spurs him on. you have the same goals, the same shared instincts. you feel nothing but pure fucking bliss everywhere.

“you want me to fill you up? you want my baby, honey? want me buried nice and deep?” you hear him grunt, but he sounds so far away.

you are lost to the void when you come. you can’t even try and resist, not when you can hear how wet you are, not when you can hear the quiet whimpers he tries to fight at the way your pussy convulses around him. you cannot see anything but the stars in his eyes.

you go limp and he spills, fucking it even further into you. his eyes are trained on where you’re still joined, and where he’s still fucking you. you’d be screaming if not for the hand wrapped around your throat. the most delicious piece of jewellery you own.

lando needs to know he’s gone as deep as he can, that you’ve come as hard as he can make you. he feels unhinged when his fingers find your clit, switching between short spasms of his finger on the nub, and grinding down on it with his palm. you’re both overstimulated, soaked with sweat and other things. you’re gripping his cock so fucking tight that he can’t stop the rush of moans, your name mumbled like a prayer between expletives.

but still, he needs to know it’s deep enough.

an hour later, you can finally move, and you sink deep into the bath.

your head is on his chest, he washes you gently. you wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl.

-

date night

almost a month passes. no sign of baby number two.

it’s fine, you tell yourself. you tell lando, too. all the more reason to keep practicing.

every opportunity he gets to bury himself to the hilt inside of you is a win in both of your books. he grabs every single one of those opportunities with both hands.

you’re dressed up nice for dinner, little black dress hugging you well. you watch the scenery flick past you. lando’s in the drivers seat, making small talk, his left hand heavy on your bare thigh. you’ve just dropped your daughter off with her grandparents, your mother hugging lando tight. he’d been gone a while.

fingers skim higher up your thigh. you want to let him carry on but this car is new, untainted by his adventurous personality and your willingness to comply. your legs snap shut and you watch him smirk out the corner of your eye.

“later.” you whisper.

his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“i know. don’t you worry, honey.” he doesn’t sound convincing, no, he sounds like a man with a plan and you dread to think of what he has in store.

the restaurant is tiny. a hole in the wall. it’s intimate, exclusive, slightly extortionate, but lando likes to treat you. you order, and he behaves. you sip wine, and he behaves. you drag your heel up his leg, and still, he behaves. you know something is brewing behind those stormy eyes.

he launches his attack during dessert.

vanilla ice cream hits your tongue when he strikes, leaning back in his chair. his thick neck captures your attention, the dim light accentuating him just right.

“would your prefer we take this to the car or the bathroom? it’s pretty spacious back there, you know.”

lando speaks so casually, and slightly too loudly. your cheeks are aflame.

“lando!” you hiss in warning. you’re sputtering over his boldness, catching some ice cream with your tongue. he watches the way it moves over your lips intently.

“actually, as tempting as the bathroom is, we still need to break in the new car.” lando sounds like he’s talking about the weather, or a shopping list, not the location of your next sexcapade. you swear you see the old lady at the next table over wink at you. “your choice, honey.”

you’re staring daggers at him. he leans in closer, elbows resting on the table and a shit eating grin contorting his pretty face.

“i’ve been gone too long, i need to remember what that pussy feels like.” his voice has dropped an octave but it’s still too loud. you inadvertently grind against the chair. the candle on the table flickers from the force of the shaky breath your expel.

“if you shut up now, you can have me anywhere you want me.” you mumble, bringing your napkin to your lips. the ice cream is melting and you have more important things on your mind.

“i’ll have you anyway, honey. because no matter what happens, we’re gonna go back to the car and you’re gonna crawl into my lap, aren’t you? you’re not gonna be able to help it.” he keeps going and you want the ground to swallow you up. maybe you want to crawl over the table and jump on his lap right here. you fight every natural instinct.

“lando.” you try to scold him again but it comes out breathier, a feeble attempt at shutting him up. it’s hard to be convincing when you want nothing more than for him to bend you over in the middle of this restaurant.

“and after i’ve had you shaking on my lap, i’m gonna fill you up, yeah? you’ve been waiting for weeks, poor thing.”

you usher over the waiter, and ask for the bill.

-

he’s got you home in one piece and all the way up to the shower.

you’re still delirious from the car. he’s still dripping out of you.

he pushes you against the shower screen, your cheek resting on the fogged up plastic. the combination of yours and his first orgasm is enough to slick him up and he slides right back inside of you, as if he’d never left.

your head is spinning, car lights and nail prints in leather seats flashing through your mind.

he’d been right in the restaurant. you’d crawled straight into his lap and he’d been waiting, seat pushed back, cock slapping up against his tanned belly. he’d swiped his fingers through your folds, determining that you were wet enough already, and then you’d sunk straight down on him.

at first he’d just watched you lose control, bouncing and grinding and whining on his lap. you were growing tired when he stepped in, pushing you back against the steering wheel, the angle change making your eyes roll back. you came twice with his fingers on your clit and his other hand holding you down so he could grind up into you. he’d released deep into you, all you could do was shudder, collapsing into his chest.

now, he’s taking you again, the hot water cascading over you both. you’re almost limp, caught between the cold screen and his hot, restless body. this it was three weeks apart does to him, and the urge to claim every part of you is at the forefront of his mind.

you’re writhing. there’s no room to move; he’s pressed so tight against you, breathy moans sounding straight into your ear and you want him impossibly closer. you always missed him so much it hurt, but that pain had increased tenfold lately.

you try to roll your hips back into him, needing him deeper, somehow. you’re so wet and tight around him, and your attempt at moving on him has you clamping down on him.

lando whimpers when he lets go, marking you as his.

he washes your hair and you fall asleep together naked.

-

the fear

lando is due back from qatar.

any minute now, he’ll be walking through the door.

he’s taken a podium, so you are expecting somewhat high spirits, despite the slight issue that had been the sprint race.

a podium is a podium, you’d tried to tell him on the phone late on saturday night. you knew that a podium was never just a podium.

you’re cleaning the kitchen up, your sweet daughter tucked up tight in her bed upstairs. a random playlist is sounding from the speakers and you flit around in just his hoodie. it hits mid thigh and it’s keeping you shielded from the biting october air.

you hear keys in the lock somewhere in the distance. you grin stupidly. god, you always fucking miss him. you turn to face the doorway, eagerly anticipating his face, longing for one of his speciality hugs.

instead, a storm enters your kitchen in the form of your boyfriend.

you raise and eyebrow.

“lando?” you question.

your hips are in his hands before he can answer. he’s walking you backwards until the granite of the counter is digging into your lower back.

“turn around.” his voice is gravelly, commanding. you do as you’re told.

the hoodie is bunched around your waist, your panties are tugged to the side. you can hear the rustle of fabric, assuming he’s getting himself ready. two fingers gloss through your folds while he pushes you down, bending you over for him. he’s rubbing circles into your clit and you’re keening into his touch.

“you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” you manage to choke out. he grunts in response.

“just need to get inside you.” is all he replies. well, okay then.

lando rearranges you, hiking one of your knees up so that’s it’s resting on the countertop. your other foot barely touches the floor when he fucks into you, ruthless. you cry out, reaching blindly behind you for him. you graze his hip and he shivers, pushing into you even harder.

he’s frantic, messy with it, thumbing at your clit. there’s hardly any room to move his hand, so he’s grinding the pad of his thumb as best he can. the pressure builds in your belly embarrassingly fast. you love when he gets like this, but you will pry what’s wrong out of him later when he curls up into his chest.

“gonna give you another one. s’all i can think about. fucking you full.” he mutters. your back arches into him.

“please.” you whimper, slurred. it’s all you can think about too.

your plea ushers along his orgasm, and he drops his head against your back. you’re shaking when you finish; he stays buried deep for a moment, silence washing over you.

when he helps you stand up, he kisses you deep. he brushes the hair from your face, says hello properly.

“wanna go see her.” he mumbles.

-

when you finally manage to climb the stairs, you see straight into your daughters room.

lando is stood over her crib, watching her sleep in the lamp lit room. he’s cooing something to her that you can’t make out. your knees are weak at the sight. you want to fill this house with children that look like him and laugh the way he does.

he catches you watching, sending you a wink, a promise that he’ll meet you in bed. when he finally does, drawing back the sheets and dropping into bed beside you, he wraps himself around you instantly.

“talk to me.” you command, toying with his hair in a way that you know turns him into mush in your hands.

“can’t win a race, can’t give you another baby. just- fuck.” he sighs, voice so small. you tear up but you push that aside for now.

“stop, lando. don’t do this to yourself.” you try to sound firm, attentive.

“just- am i good to you? am i good to her?” he needs to hear you say it, that’s the only thing that will talk him down from this spiral. he’s exhausted, and this is often a consequence.

“sometimes i think you hung the stars in the sky.” you hum, kissing his forehead.

gentle snores lull you to sleep.

-

quickie

you go with him to austin.

it seemed logical, after the events of qatar. your daughter has been stolen away by lando’s dad, who is showing her the paddock and introducing her to mechanics. you watch on, momentarily, because then lando is stealing you away.

“haven’t you got fp3 in a minute?” you ask, coy smile on your face. he’s pulling your jeans down and kicking them away.

“this won’t take long.” he smirks.

you crave the upper hand for a change. his race suit is already undone, so you make your move. you tug down his fireproofs, taking his cock in your hands. he’s hard already, glistening for you. he groans, but doesn’t make you stop.

you’re watching him through your eyelashes, his head tipping back in pleasure. you work your hand around him, up and down, applying pressure at the base and around the tip. it’s flushed red, wet in your hand and he looks too pretty to stop. he can have you later, in your hotel room, you think. right now, you’re having him.

lando is panting, thrusting into your hand when he comes for you. you’re soaked through, and he can probably see the damp patch on the panties. his release hits your stomach, painting your flushed skin white. your eyes scan the room for something to clean yourself with, but he beats you to it.

thick fingers swipe through the mess he’s made. your panties are tugged to the side and then he’s fucking you with said fingers. you cannot produce a thought, mouth gaping open in the shape of an ‘o’. the sight before you has you gushing, and he uses that leverage to speed up.

“you think i’m gonna let it go go waste, honey? silly girl. pretty, pretty girl.” he mutters.

your hips are bucking into his hand when he pulls out of you, collecting more of him from your belly, and then he’s thrusting them in again. you tear up from the pleasure coursing through you, white hot. he’s crazy, you think, but he’s so fucking beautiful, teasing glint in his eye as he curls his fingers deeper.

“want it so bad, don’t you? gotta keep you full for me, don’t i?”

you’re sure you can be heard from the garage when your orgasm hits.

-

office party

a burnt orange dress clings to your hips and a curly haired man clings to your hand.

the mtc is lit up for another gala that you and lando have to attend. the season is over and they’ve had a great run, so a toast must be made to celebrate that.

you watch him get passed around the room between sponsors and other important people, proud of what he’s achieved. you hate sharing him, but it’s a necessary evil, so you drink champagne with oscar’s girlfriend, lily, and natalie pinkham.

when lando comes back to you, his PR smile is dropped and that genuine, boyish grin returns that you have so missed in his momentary absence. he introduces you to some people, proudly showing you off, sinking drinks as he does.

it’s nearing 10pm when his actions become questionable. his hand stays on your ass, his words whispered in your ear are filthy and his sly kisses on your neck stop being quite so sly.

you remove him from the main event, just for a moment, just to try and get him to compose himself before you jump him against one of the vintage racing cars. he sees this as an invitation, however, and then everything goes awry.

he’s dragging you into the lift, kissing you against the closed doors. when you stumble out a floor up, you can still hear the function in full swing. he’s pulling you down a hallway and into what you assume is an office. when he has you sat on a desk, you realise where you are.

“is this zak’s office?” your eyes pop out of your head, bewildered.

“maybe.” he shrugs. he’s smirking like a bastard.

“you’re insane.” you shake your head, standing from the desk, but his lips ghost your ear and you’re putty in his hands.

“you’re driving me insane. coming here in this tight fucking dress. can’t stop looking at you, thinking about this.” his hand rubs over your lower belly as he speaks, and then you’re back on the desk.

lando’s on his knees, peeling the silky material over your thighs until your barely there panties are in his face. he mouths over them briefly, and then they’re gone and his tongue is buried to the hilt in your cunt.

it doesn’t take him long to get you off, the alcohol and the thrill of being in the one place you should never have sex pushing you quickly towards your orgasm.

the glass wall of windows is too inviting for lando to pass up, so on shaky legs, you’re pressed up against them, looking out over the pond and the fairy lights when he pushes into you.

he’s kissing over your shoulder, your neck, holding your down on him while he thrusts up into you. you turn your head to kiss him, to let him swallow up your noises that could give you away.

“you’re so fucking good for me, honey. letting me have you here like this just so i can give you a baby.” he slurs against your lips, pussy drunk and ravenous.

he finds your clit, fast fingers making small swipes against it and you want to cry.

“gonna make this time count, yeah, honey? gonna keep it all inside of you until we get home?”

you try to nod, try to say something but you’re choking on air and dripping all over him. a couple more thrusts and you’re the perfect vessel for him to release into, throbbing and hot around his cock.

“beg for it, honey, come on. tell me how much you want it.” lando mumbles right in your ear.

“lando, please. please, please, please.” you whimper. “come for me, baby, need it inside of me.”

you leave the office a lot more composed than when you entered it. well, aside from the remnants of him that are running down your inner thighs.

-

a month later, lando’s laughing. he’s actually laughing, while you cringe, burying your blushing face in his chest.

you’re holding a pregnancy test in your hands, finally a positive one.

when you do the maths, you realise where baby norris was conceived, and you try and make him promise never to tell anyone that it was in his boss’s office.

“it’s a funny story.” he tells you. there are tears in his eyes.

“you’re so lucky i love you.” you roll your eyes. you are also dangerously close to crying.

but truthfully, you’re the lucky one. he carries you to bed that night, claiming that now you had a baby on board, you had to be careful!

you dream of him, that night. the man that hung the stars in the sky.

-

once again, idk what came over me i’m sorry lmfao

-

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[cherryblossombankai]

HIIII

I love youuu

Could you maybe Write headcanons about how Hawks, Dabi, All Might, Enji, Shigaraki, Present Mic and Eraser Head eat pussy? It would be amazing!

You rock my world, baby girl!

Warnings: oral (f receiving), mentions of somnophilia, quirks used for kinky stuff

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network (message me to be added to my taglist!)

Hawks

Hawks is playful at first. He likes teasing you, making you get all flustered for him. This will be achieved by blowing on your pussy or sucking gently on your folds.

Once he really gets into it though, his demeanor changes completely. He almost seems to relax from going down on you. His body goes a little slack and his eyes flutter closed. 

Every so often when you whine his name, he’ll look up at you lazily, his eyes just rolling open to meet yours before closing again. 

He could honestly just stay there with his head between your thighs, suckling and licking at you all night. 

You’ll have to push him away to avoid being overstimulated. 

Dabi 

You have to beg him to go down on you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he loves hearing you beg. 

This becomes even more apparent when he has you spread open for him. His tongue is lapping at nearly every part of your pussy EXCEPT where you need him most. 

He’ll have your thighs shaking and you’re whining by the time his tongue finally touches your clit.

He’ll spend ages edging you, only to turn right back around and overstimulate you. 

It’s safe to say Dabi decides when you’re done cumming. 

All Might 

His experience with women is pretty limited, so be prepared to spend time having to teach him how to lick pussy. 

One thing about Toshinori though, he is very eager to learn and even more eager to put what he learns to good use to please the special lady in his life.

He’s very gentle at first, but it doesn’t take much for him to get a little too excited. 

As he laps up your nectar, he’ll let out little groans and growls. He gets very into it.

 If he’s lying on the bed, he’ll be grinding against the mattress the whole time. It’s not uncommon for him to accidentally make himself cum this way.

Endeavor

Enji is a very busy man, and he can’t always take the time to indulge with you. So, when he indulges in your body he makes the most of it. 

He’ll get a little nasty about it because he just has to be the best, and nothing gets him harder than hearing you scream his name. 

Any position works for him, even eating you out from behind. He’s particularly fond of having you sit on his face. His hands will be full of your ass, guiding you to ride his face. 

He makes a little bit of noise, mostly growling. 

Sometimes when he gets a bit too worked up he’ll start smoking from his quirk getting activated. He’s even sparked a little before, which of course didn’t go well. 

Shigaraki

He wants to go unhinged. The desire to spread you open and devour your pussy like it’s the nectar of a goddess is unbearable. But because of his quirk, he has to be so careful. 

Having to use so much care and caution whenever he touches you, drives him insane. He can never truly lose himself in you the way he desires. 

So instead, he expresses himself through grunting and growling against your pussy. He may not be able to touch you with all of his fingers but the ones he can use are digging into the meat of your thighs. 

“Tastes so good,” he groans between lapping at your pussy. 

He loves making you feel good. The way you praise him so sweetly and swear he’s the only one who can make you feel this way, it gives him purpose. 

Present Mic 

Let’s just get this out of the way: he’s basically a sex god. 

Present Mic is adventurous and fearless in his pursuit of bringing you pleasure. 

One of his go to moves is to hum against your pussy, using his quirk to make the vibrations intense. His mouth basically becomes a vibrator, and he’ll do this while sucking on your little clit. 

He’s really down to eat you out anytime and anywhere. Kitchen counter, classroom, even in the bathroom stall of  your favorite club. 

His skills are unmatched. Once he’s gone down on you, you’ll never be the same. 

Eraser Head

Aizawa loves eating you out just as much as you love getting eaten out. 

It’s sort of how he unwinds at the end of a day. After going through the domestic dinner routine with you, he drags you to bed. 

He can and will go down on your until he falls asleep suckling on your clit. 

Then he wakes up in the middle of the night, his head on your thigh, and starts all over again. 

He enjoys waking you up with oral, watching your sleepy face contort with pleasure. 

[daydreams-after-dark]

Sub Reader x Bratty Han (plus Doms Lino, Chan and features ot8). Established poly ot8 relationship.

Synopsis: Bratty Han convinces you to let him go down on you without permission from Chan and Lino. They punish you both when they get home.

Word count: 2.9k approx.

Unhinged level: 🤡🤡🤡🤡

CW below the cut.

⚠️⚠️⚠️Warnings: NSFW // 18+ content // MDNI // coercion //dom chan and lino // sub reader // oral sex (f and m rec.) // creampies // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // butt plugs // spanking with a belt // restraints // sex in front of a group // everyone cums all over reader // name calling // disrespecting reader (but it’s consensual punishment) // let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Han. The fucking brat. He loves to rile up the doms and soft doms, pushing their buttons, making them snap. He likes to coerce the subs into messy situations in the hopes of getting into trouble off the doms Chan and Lino.

Han loves to get you into trouble, and for some reason you can’t resist his bratty, suggestive energy. He makes you lose the fear of consequences, or maybe it’s that he makes you forget about consequences entirely? Until, of course you are being thrown face down on the bed, your panties pulled down around your thighs as you get spanked by Chan while Lino fucks your face (although you love that kind of punishment).

You think every idea Han has is a good one. There’s just something about him that makes you want to please him. You want to please him as much as you need to please Chan and Lino. You’d honestly let him do anything he wants to you.

That’s how you ended up here. On the couch in the living room.

“Come on baby.” He whispers, kissing your neck. Your shirt is already off and he’s cupping your breast, under your bra, with one hand, and is three fingers deep inside your cunt.

He knows you are pliable right now. You’ll agree to anything. “Let me taste your sweet pussy.” He thrusts his fingers in hard making you squeal. “So fucking wet. I know you want more than just my fingers, right?”

You shake your head. “Sungie, no. We don’t have permission. What if they find out?” you say timidly.

“No one’s gonna know. Just think about how it’s gonna feel with my hot… wet…mouth,” he kisses you sloppily. “Against your…aching…dripping…pussy?” He breaks away only to lean his forehead against yours. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” he asks with a serious tone. You nod. You are. “So… can I?” he pushes.

“Yes.” You whisper. He is right. Your cunt really was aching for him. His fingers had almost taken you over the edge, but you know his skilled and quick mouth will have you seeing stars in no time.

“You’re my favourite, you know that, right? Always up for anything. Such a good girl.” He says as he makes his way down between your legs. “Spread them wider for me. Let me take a good look at you.” He pushes your legs open and bites his lip hungrily as he inspects your most intimate parts.

“Such a pretty, tight, little hole.” He watches your pussy clench around nothing as he removes his digits. He spreads your lips apart and licks a stripe up from your vagina to your clit. You cry out. Why does it always feel so good? You throw your head back and squeeze you eyes closed as Han laps up all of your arousal that’s dripping from you. Your back arches off the couch when he slips his tongue into your cunt.

“Fuck, Ji!” you cry. “I’m so close.”

And then you hear it. Your phone ringing. You know the ringtone. Han knows the ringtone. Lino is calling.

“Answer it, baby. You don’t want to get in trouble for missing a call from the boss.” Han pauses his movements.

“I… I can’t-”

“Answer it.” Han repeats himself.

And of course you do as he says.

With a shaky hand and a fuzzy brain, you answer the call. “H-hello?” you say softly.

“What the fuck took you so long, kitten?” Lino is angry. Fuck. “Um… I’m sorry, I was just…ahhhh.” You feel Han’s mouth latch onto your clit.

“You were just what? What is so important that it took you more than three rings for to answer the phone?” Lino growls.

You can barely find the words you need. Han is bringing you so close to climax that you can feel a sheen of sweat forming on your chest, and you know your heavy breathing must sound suspicious. You try with everything you have to ignore Han and to focus on Lino.

“I was just….working out… yes…running.” You manage.

And then you feel Han’s fingers in your pussy again, pumping in and out of you whilst he slurps loudly against your clit. The wet, obscene sounds becoming so loud that it threatens to give you away.

“Kitten?” Lino’s voice tries to cut through the overwhelming feeling of pleasure that has taken over your body. It is so hard to concentrate on Lino. Han is too intoxicating. Han feels too good. Han is your whole world. Han is the only person that matters. Han making you come is the only thing you need right now. You would surely die without it.

“Hannie-” you choke and the tension inside you snaps, sending pulsating pleasure through your veins and your legs shaking around Han’s head.

“You have to be fucking joking.” Lino does not sound happy. “Chan and I will be home in one hour. You and Han better be ready. You are going to be so fucking sorry.” And with that Lino is gone.

You lean up on your elbows and look down at the man that just took you to the stars. He is already looking up you with the most smug look on his face. You can’t tell if he is feeling pleased with himself because he convinced you (yet again) to let him have unauthorised access to your body, or that he has managed to get the you two caught?

It is a rather odd dynamic, between you and Han. Han is a bratty little shit, but he is not the boss. Not by a long shot. He just loves stirring up trouble and making life challenging for Chan and Lino. Han thinks it’s fucking hilarious to get himself, and any of the other subs, into trouble. Why? Because punishment is always fun. What he finds the most fun of all is the bemused expressions on Chan and Lino’s face when, as always, you have gone along with some devious idea of his.

You don’t even know why you always go along with whatever Han wants. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.

Even when it leads to this situation right now.

One hour later you and Han sitting side by side on the end of the bed, awaiting punishment.

The bedroom door bursts open and Chan and Lino enter the room - followed by the rest of the members. This was different. Punishment had never involved an audience before.

It makes you wet, and you were sure it is making Han hard.

They look pissed. Lino speaks first. “Everyone take a seat, stand against the wall. Make yourself comfortable.”

Seungmin and Changbin stand against the wall, and Felix, Innie and Hyunjin take places on the bed behind you.

Chan disappears out of the room momentarily, returning with two dining chairs and placing them in front of you and Han. Chan sits himself down on one and Lino drags the other a little further away to the right side of the room.

“Han,” starts Chan, “strip, then sit on that chair.” He nods to the empty dining chair.

Han immediately removes his clothes and takes a seat as instructed. You are right, he is hard. You hear Seungmin snicker to your left. How fucking humiliating.

“Everyone listen up.” Chan addresses the room. “Lino and I have called you all in here today because there are some of you who do not know how to follow rules.” Silence and anticipation fills the room and you start to become nervous.

“Han, in particular, doesn’t think he needs permission to play with our kitten here.” Lino says as he stands in front of you, grasping your chin forcing it so you’re looking into his dark, angry eyes. “Take off your top and bra and go lay over Chan’s lap so you can receive your punishment.”

You do as he says, nervously removing your garments and walking to were Chan sits.

“Lay over me, ass away from Han.” He pulls you over his lap and slaps your ass. Your head dangles by his shoe and you can’t see any of the men in the room. Chan pulls your shorts and panties down exposing your bare pussy and ass to everyone and pulls your cheeks apart. “Look at that boys… Han thinks this is his.” He snarls and roughly prods your pussy with his fingers. You gasp. You are so vulnerable, and so turned on. “Lino, come look at her pretty little holes.”

Lino kneels down next you, and the pair start finger fucking you at the same time. They plunge two fingers each into your cunt, stretching you, opening you up, showing everyone how much of a little whore you are. You begin to moan with pleasure, which apparently is against the rules. “Felix. Come pull the rest of her clothes off.” Chan instructs. “That’s it, Felix. Now shove her panties in her mouth to shut her up.”

Felix comes around and stuffs your mouth with your panties to muffle your whimpers, and then he’s gone again.

From where Han sits, all he can see is all the other men’s reactions to what is happening to you. He is turned on as fuck, but also jealous. He wants to see what was happening to your pussy. He can hear it though. The sopping, sloppy noises of your wetness. His dick is leaking. He knows there’s a good chance he’s going to come untouched. His hand automatically grips his cock.

"Hey, he’s touching his dick!” Innie exclaims, pointing to Han.

“Hyunjin, tie him up.” Chan growls. “This is meant to be a punishment.”

Hyunjin swiftly ties Han’s hands together and someone decides it’s a good idea to tie yours together too. “Let’s tie here’s behind her back.”

All you can do is lay there and take whatever punishment you are given.

“Everyone. This is what’s gonna happen.” Lino addresses the waiting men. “Our little darling here is going to choke on Chan’s cock, while I fuck her greedy little cunt. Your job, boys, is to jerk off while you watch. When you need to cum, you will come up, ask for permission, and choose where you want to cum on her.”

Seungmin, another dom, pipes up. “Hey why do I need to ask permission? And I don’t want to cum on her - I wanna cum in her.”

Lino rolls his eyes. “Don’t forget who's in charge here! But yeah, anyone can cum anywhere on or in her. Except Han. He’s not allowed to cum at all.”

Your pussy clenches at the thought of having everyone’s cum all over you.

“Everyone, get your cocks out.” You hear zippers and belt buckles as they free their dicks. Chan and Lino continue to finger your pussy. They jiggle your ass cheeks, make noises of approval at how wet you are. You feel Lino spit on your asshole and spread it around the rim, then plunge a finger deep into your hole. You tense and clench, making the pair chuckle to themselves. “Innie, give me the butt plug.” You brace yourself as Lino presses the rather large plug into your ass. He is careful as he presses it in. He doesn't actually want to hurt you. In fact, everyone knows everyone else's limits, hard no's, safe words and gestures. Even though you're tied up and your mouth is stuffed with panties, everyone knows if you shake your head rapidly, that means you want to stop.

“Pass me your belt, Changbin.” Says Lino standing up, leaving your hole clenching around the plug.

“We must set an example, mustn’t we Chan?” And without warning you feel the belt hit your ass cheek. You can’t cry out, or grab hold of anything. Chan holds you still. The belt comes down again. A little harder. Your skin stings. Again. Tears well up in your eyes. Another smack with the belt. You squeeze your eyes tight and the tears slip out. The next hit with the belt is on your pussy. It’s not as hard, but the sting is harsh. You hear gasps from some of the onlookers.

“Ummm,” you hear a timid voice next to you. “Can I please cum?” Felix.

“Already?” Chuckles Chan. “Sure. Where you going to put it?”

“The base of her spine please.” Always so polite. The spanking pauses, and you feel ropes of hot cum land on your lower back and hear the sweet noises Felix makes when he cums.

“Good boy.” Lino says proudly. “You did so good.” Chan concurs. “You may leave if you want. Or stay and watch. What do you want to do?”

Felix hesitates. “I’d like to stay and watch.” He says quietly.

“That’s our boy.” Seungmin claps his hands.

You are repositioned so that you are kneeling on the carpet in front of Chan. He lifts up slightly so he can shimmy his sweatpants down, freeing his enormous cock. Chan has the biggest cock out of everyone, and you know you are about to gag and choke very soon. He removes the panties that were in your mouth and fists a handful of hair on the back of your head and shoves your mouth down over his cock without care, forcing you take as much as possible. Then he pushes you down even more. You splutter, gag, and make a whole host of humiliating sounds as Chan pulls your mouth up and down on his cock, hard, fast and rough. You can get out of his grasp if you really want to. But you don't. You love this.

Meanwhile, Lino positions himself behind you, lifting you up enough to push his cock into your sopping cunt. The fullness feels incredible. Lino fucks you rough from the get go, leaving you no time to adjust. With your hands tied behind your back you are 'helpless'. And it’s driving you, and the men wild.

One by one, they come up seeking permission to cum on you.

You’re pulled up off Chan’s cock so Binnie can cum on your tits. You sneak a glance at Han to who looks so fucked out, his dick red and angry. Fuck you want to relieve him of that.

Innie wants to cum in your mouth. “Swallow it, kitten.” Lino instructs. You swallow it all and then continue to suck Chan off. Hyunjin wants to cum on your stomach, so again you’re lifted upright so he can mark you. Felix comes back again, this time wanting to cum in your mouth.

Finally Seungmin is ready to give you his load. “I’m going to cum in her cunt.” He announces. Lino grumbles and pulls out of you, and you feel Seungmin at your entrance. He thrusts into you hard making you gag on Chan’s cock. He digs his fingers into the side of your body and snaps his hips three times and you feel him release himself deep inside you.

“I’m not sticking my cock back in there after you. I don’t wanna feel your jizz on my dick.” Lino sounds irritated. Seungmin laughs and leaves the room.

“You’ll have to fuck her ass then, mate.” Chan says between clenched teeth. He was close to cumming.

“Hmm, you’re right.” Lino pulls the plug from your ass and pushes his thick cock into you, grasping your neck for both leverage and to feel you choking around Chan’s cock. Your pathetic cry is too much for Chan and he cums down your throat. “Swallow it.” Lino says from behind you, pounding his cock into your ass with an unimaginable force. You swallow and open your mouth, showing Chan your empty mouth.

You can feel Seungmin’s cum dribbling down your inner thigh, Felix’s cum dried on your back, and your breast and stomach are sticky. You are a mess as Lino fucks into you, holding you up by your tied arms. He pulls you against his chest, his mouth close to your ear. “Look at him,” Lino hisses, referring to Han. “I don’t know why the fuck you let him get you into this mess. Maybe you forgot who owns your pussy, hmm? Maybe you forgot I own your ass.” He growls. He reaches a hand down to your clit. “Now cum for me.” He demands.

You’re close but you can’t quite get there. You look at Han again. His cock. Yes, you love that cock so much. Closer. His trim waist and defined torso. Yes, you love to have your legs wrapped around it. Almost there. You look up to his face. His eyes. They are locked on yours. Encouraging you to cum. Fuck!!!! You clench around Lino’s cock and he pumps into you a few more times before you feel him paint your walls.

Lino pulls out and plugs you back up. “I own your ass. Don’t forget it.” He says and stands up. He and Chan pull their pants back on. You look around the room. It’s only now you realise that the rest of the men have left.

You see that Han has cum untouched, cum plastered on his abdomen, but he is still hard as stone. Chan unties him. “Now you clean her up - with your mouth… and then fuck Seungmin and Lino’s cum back into her holes.”

You and Han are alone again. He’s at your side untying you, immediately licking the cum off your tits, then kisses you. “That was so worth getting you into trouble.” He smirks and picks you up to lay you on the bed.

He hovers over you and gazes at you tenderly. “You are my baby, aren’t you?” He whispers.

You nod.

“Then… will you let me?”

“Let you what? They’ve given you permission to fuck me.” You say.

He shakes his head. “Will you let me make love to you? Slowly?”

Typical, bratty Han, still not wanting to follow instructions.

You nod. “Yes.”

A/N: I kinda wanted to end this on a sweet note, and make Hannie still unable to follow rules, like if he’s told to fuck her, then he wants to go slow and tender. But… he is a sneaky little shit getting her into so much trouble.

@kangnina @noellllslut @channieandhisgoonsquad @weareapackofstrays @wolfennracha @3rachasdomesticbanana

[rene-darling]

TAKING- advantage of the strongest

He's been having a hard time lately, he's lost Suguru, his one and only, of course- you on the other hand are overjoyed at that fact.

It's annoying, after all, you've done for him, he calls out his name instead of yours, it's time you taught him a permanent lesson on manners.

P.s I TOLD YOU ITS NEVER GOJOVERRR RAHHH- [credits- __3aem on insta]

Also, follow my insta r3xni3 n text me, let's talk, im bored!!

...gojo Satoru...

Seeing Gojo with his head in his hands sitting at the edge of the school stairs wasn't a new sight for you, in fact for the past week you've been seeing him sitting there.

Crying, sobbing, or simply sitting in misery. He's always thinking of that damned suguru. Honestly, it was hard to get him to show you any affection with suguru around, and now that he's gone it's gotten even harder!

It's not that you hate suguru, you just love gojo, and seeing your gojo in pain annoys you, but. It also makes for the perfect opportunity to shove yourself in his life, when he's most vulnerable and make him rely on you

"what up 'toru?" Sitting down next to him gently touching his shoulder, you can't be too forward now. "..mhm, it's nothing." Hmm, well you knew it wouldn't be that easy, of course he wouldn't open up to you just yet! So you'll just keep trying- "come on satoru, this isn't like you, you're the strongest-"

"Can you leave? I'm not in the mood y/n." Running his hands through his hair he groaned as he hid his face. You got up without a word, it's fine, if he pushes you away you have many more ways to push back harder.

The continuing weeks during classes you would always make small talk, distracting his mind from geto. Then you'd buy him sweets saying that there was some buy one get one free offer, which is why you had brought one over for him there wasn't

You occupied him on the missions he'd usually go to alone, keeping him from feeling lonely. No matter how hard they were and no matter how much strain they put your body through you'd reassure him, you're fine!

He'd notice how you'd push yourself for him, it made him- feel. Feel something other than the constant sorrow due to Geto's absence.

He started reciprocating your 'kindness'. he would let you rest your head on his lap after a stressful mission and sometimes..he'd rests his own head on yours.

Shoving yourself in his life to replace the sorrows he felt didn't only include platonic relations. Every once in a while, whenever the feelings of loss came back too harshly, all he wanted was to forget. Get lost in pleasure, in anything, just- just please make him forget.

His tears which usually stained his face due to sorrow, now stained his face due to mind-numbing pleasure, his body was yours for the destroying, just please, please make him forget. Even if just for tonight!

" 'toru, use your words now, tell me what you want, hm?" You moved your hand ever so slowly, it hurt. "Just- just please, touch me, ruin me, do whatever you want. I'm yours, yours all yours- Suguru please.

Hah- fuck. He's so lucky he's Gojo Satoru. your gojo Satoru. You can feel yourself growing numb as you let out an unhinged chuckle "Sure Satoru." You try pronouncing his name with that same softness, to replicate that tone of pure love and kindness geto had, but alas, you never truly get it right.

Still, it's close enough for him. as he whines, bucking into your hand. You have half the mind to leave him like this, writhing on the bed, but you never do. This isn't the first time, and certainly isn't the last. You're sure every single fucking time you've seen satoru he's called out his name,

But, as you gaze down at him and as he stares up at you with his pretty blue eyes which spill with tears by the second, you can't help it. Perhaps you pity him, or perhaps you simply don't care if he's using you as a means to an end, since in return, you get to be the one fucking him dumb. And not Suguru, 'cause he's dead. But that's beside the point.

Rocking his world as his vision blanks, eyes rolling back as sweat covers him. You don't mind the pain of when he bites into your shoulder, you don't mind the fact that Suguru's name slips out of him more than your (can be fake) cock

But, for some reason you just can't take it today. Something takes over you, you swear, as you grab harshly onto his neck, gasps leave his throat as he huffs for air. "Wh- Ah pl- EAse- hah."

"say my name." "Wha- AHh-" pressing your hand down harder you're sure it'll leave marks. "Y/n. Fucking say it you dumb bitch." Tears fall down from his cheeks and onto your hand but it only seems to egg you on "Ah- mhm y-y/n please?" As you let go gits of his coughs fill the air as his pink chest rises up and down for air

Suddenly he gasps once more as you push against his prostate, you're far too pleased with him saying your name to let him rest, even to catch his breath.

His cries ring in your ear as his hands scratch onto your skin, leaving deep bloody marks in their wake he stares up at you with his tear stained eyes, mumbling only your name for the rest of the night.

You hope he's learned his lesson, and if not. You wouldn't mind teaching him another one.

[dwaekkicidal]

Thoughts on daddy Jeongin?

wait why have i never thought about this…

warnings: gn!reader, exhibitionism, mean dom + brat taming on the last few paragraphs

posting this because the Changbin worship is taking me a little longer than I thought..

so im a firm believer that jeongin is STILL a menace to this day. like we all know he was a little shithead growing up, but i think the way skz spoils him just made that side of him come back out. especially with the video of him literally choking seungmin and nobody batting an eye (also him stopping the SECOND he saw the camera pointed at them??? yeah keep trying to put up that 'innocent' mask. i see through ur lies mfer), I genuinely don't think he's as innocent as they make him out to be lol

anywhooooo back to Daddy Jeongin..

I think in general Daddy Jeongin is sickly sweet with you even in public. He doesn’t hesitate to buy you items he sees you looking at for longer than a few seconds at a store or just random things he thinks you would like. He takes you out on dates when you least expect it and always has a little gift prepared for you for these dates. I also think he would LOVE to dress you up/pick out your outfits every day if you'd let him, and even more so for dates so you two can match.

"Today we're going to [insert restaurant]! I bought you a new outfit for it and everything~"

I think he's one to keep PDA to a minimum (besides hand holding). UNLESS you ask nicely or there is a person who is very obviously interested in you and is 'unaware' of your relationship. Then, Daddy Jeongin is going a liiiiittle unhinged. They want to play dumb? He'll play absolutely brainless. I'm talking straight up shoving a hand into your pants or up your shirt, grabbing a handful and making you squirm as the person watches. Will not hesitate to walk up to you and interrupt your conversation with that person just to shove his tongue down your throat <3

"I don't give a fuck if it made them uncomfortable. You're mine."

I think in bed Daddy Jeongin would be super inexperienced at first if you're his first lover. Shaky hands hesitantly trailing along your body along your body and soft but hungry hip thrusts for the first few times. But!!!! I'm a firm believer in Fast Learner!Skz so it won't take him long to learn your body and what you do or don't like. So much so that once he proves himself right time and time again, he starts to be a cocky little shit about it.

"I know it 's good. Daddy just knows you too well, baby. And I know *this* feels good too, right? Haha"

Daddy Jeongin definitely invites one (or more hehe) of his hyungs to fuck you open >< Allowing them to fuck any and all of your holes all while he controls the scene, the pace, and where they cum. I think the ego this would give him would be nuts… It would hover in the air around him for weeks, ESPECIALLY if it’s one of the guys that he respects/looks up to the most (I’m thinking Chris, Min, and maybe Seungmin).

"You're doing so good for us baby, you're taking Min so well. He's gonna keep fucking you nice and roughly and if you keep it up and maybe you'll get both of us."

I think he loves a brat (obviously at the right times) so he has an excuse to prove why he's the dominant one. I think he'd have 2 very similar ways of dealing with brats, I won't make a separate post about it like I did with Chris but I'll still explain some of it. The default way Daddy Jeongin deals with one is by being a huge brat back and matching your energy. You push his buttons, he pushes your buttons. You test his boundaries, he’ll test yours. Has a whole stubborn ass "anything you can do, I can do better" attitude and won't stop until you give up and submit first. Not afraid to edge both of your for hours if that's what it takes for you to fold.

"You ready to say sorry? Mmm that's too bad. I was looking forward to letting you cum tonight."

2nd way Daddy Jeongin deals with a brat is full Mean dom. You push the right wrong buttons at the right wrong times and he won't show any mercy. How can he when he learned how to be a mean dom from the best! (Seungmin) So when you talk back, have too much attitude, and/or any other way you manage to piss him off; you are getting a big hand wrapped tightly around your neck or long fingers shoved down your throat to shut you up. Edges both of you here too but will end up cumming inside you before you get to finish and threatens to leave you like that if you don't say sorry. OR will overstimulate you until you're actually sobbing and squirming so much that he threatens to tie you down.

"Maybe if you didn't act like a bitch I would be more willing to give you a break. Now shut up and take it." >.<

Daddy Jeongin who isn’t afraid to punish or discipline you in front of his hyungs. If you piss him off at practice he WILL make you kneel right then and there, in front of all the members and any staff, and will make you apologize. Tangles a hand in your hair, maybe even shoving a few fingers down your throat, and makes you grovel. Also I think if you catch him at the wrong time, he'll threaten to fuck you right then and there (and will actually go through with it depending on who is there and if he's actually mad enough).

“Aw.. you’re embarrassed they’re watching? Good, maybe you’ll learn your fucking lesson this time. Now apologize or I'll edge you on my dick for the next week.”

Continuing a little on that last paragraph, I think he would enjoy bringing in Seungmin (AND) or Minho to 'help' him tame you when you're a brat. It's definitely something that would have to be talked about with all parties, but if everyone agrees to it then you're in for some insane sessions. If you piss him off in the practice room and the people in there just so happen to be Seungmin and Minho, just know you're fucked <3

[nrdmssgs]

CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

[threepandas]

Bad End, Hidden Heir: Part 2

Prev <-

A pounding headache and cave air, that's what I woke up too. The air was being choked, though, by familiar scents. All trying desperately to make the cold, wet, and softly echoing quiet, hospitable. It was nauseating in my current state. Weak and... drugged? Had I been drugged? I certainly hadn't been drunk.

So why did my head hurt so much?

Why did every motion, make my stomach want to rebel?

My limbs felt so WEAK. Heavy and useless. Barely budging when I try to lift them. To rub my head? Adjust the blanket? Sit up? I can't tell. Thinking... thinking is so hard past... the pounding in my head. The fog. I struggle to concentrate. God, that SMELL.

Like a perfume store combined with... with... ugh. Everything!

I could pick out individual scents I knew I liked, on their own, added to the nauseating chaos. My favorite potpourri was there. But so was the one I like for winter? Fall? That one I liked as a kid until I found Mrs. Tianna's blend...

And perfumes! Colognes! The clean products and scents I preferred the maids used. God it... it blended together like a trash heap. As though someone drove a carriage through a perfume shop at speed. Cloying and musk and spice and fruity and-!

I sucked air through my teeth, trying not to smell it, hoping to god I wouldn't TASTE it.

Finally I managed to pry my eyes open. Either hunger or thirst giving my the strength to push past the nauseating pain. I NEEDED to move. Find out what was happening. Survive.

My gaze... met the most elaborate embroidery I had ever seen. Tapestries had less art. Almost to the point of gaudiness. Possibly past it. It was...

It was everything I had ever said I liked.

Too anyone.

Puppies and flowers, history and art, books scenes and more. It kept GOING! Hideous and magnificent. Chaos. Unhinged. Flowing down from above me, along the rest of the curtains, for the canopy bed upon which I rest. So I would be surrounded by it all. Even the blanket... it was a sea of my favorite flowers, made eternal through string.

This wasn't something people just DID. Could just FIND. I could feel my panic under the muting pain and exhaustion. This was the work of YEARS. Obsessive, continuous, YEARS. Some of these threads cost more then certain house hold make in WEEKS! And for what? A secret canopy bed?!

I struggled, body barely able to obey me but trying desperately to assist. The blankets were heavy. The curtain around the bed equally so, thanks to all the embroidery. I.. I manage to roll. Squirm. Wriggle my way, undignified, to the edge. Flop over it and out from under the blanket. Too freedom.

The air is cold.

The scents WORSE out here. Now, I can see why.

It is a museum to all that I am. Every like carefully gathered in one place, every preference. Stacked and shoved together, with no regard for if they fit. Hoarded like a collection.

I can not even tell... if I am sitting, flopped down, on my favorite winter bedside carpet or just an exact copy. My entire life is shoved together and suddenly... suddenly I do not like any of these things at all. They feel dirty. Dangerous. Like they have betrayed me. I want to cry.

But I am nauseous. Hurting. Tired and thirsty. So very hungry dispite it all. I just... I just need to know what's going ON! This isn't... this isn't how the Game goes! Not for Protag-chan. Not for me! I know I changed my "character's" behavior... but...

I... I don't understand...

Try not to cry. It's... it's really hard.

I was right. I'm pretty sure this is the Caves of Spring in the northwest of the Duchy. The offical Heir has an estate near them. The stone looks like the cliffs I'd seen in passing.

Crawling is hard. My legs keep getting tangled in my fucking nightgown. My... my f.. favorite.. nightgown! I'm not gonna cry. Damn it. I'm NOT GONNA CRY. How dare he? How DARE he ruin even that? What did he DO to me!? When I was... was...

No, don't think about it!

Move.

A decanter. Needlessly pretty. I probably loved it as a girl, fresh into this world. Everything was so FANCY and I wasn't used to having money yet. Hadn't developed any real class or taste. It looks so fucking gaudy to me now. But God, it has water. Please... PLEASE let that be water!

I drag myself up on badly shaking limbs. Nothing wants to hold. Wrists buckling, knees giving, legs shaking like a new born lamb. My arms are so weak. But thirst... oh thirst is a powerful motivator.

I force myself to move.

The water is not enough. It is everything. Cold and perfect, I force myself to go slow. To not spill a single drop, as I collapse against the dresser it was placed upon. Letting my eyes explore my cage in the way my poor abused body can not.

There are thick bars buried deep into the bedrock, separating the "room" I'm in from the hall that leads away from it. And it IS a "room". Made in cruel mockery to resemble the luxury of the dukes estate. Perhaps even more aggressively decadent in certain aspects, though that isn't a good thing. It makes it border on a storage room, for how crowded with luxury it has become.

It is the reflection of an unwell mind.

And staring up at the portraits of myself I KNOW I never sat for? The countless sketches pinned up beyond the bars? I am in trouble. I... I should have run. Not sent Creep away. I should have been the one to run. Before it was too late.

I think... I think it might be too late.

Footsteps.

I want to escape. But where can I run? I am caged. I feel close and far away. My head hurts. My body hurts. Everything stinks and I am cold. Why? Why did you do this? The foot steps are calm and commanding. Even. They do not break stride.

I do not bother to watch my hunter approach me. The monster I can not escape.

I close my eyes to spare myself the pounding in my head. Drink more water.

He makes a softly dismayed sound, as though he was not the one to drug me, to leave me here. The door to my cage opens. Closes. Ah... such a heavy lock. Should I be flattered?

Crisp steps, the rustle of fabric.

"My lady, the floor is so dirty! You shouldn't be out of bed yet. I was just about to make you tea."

The AUDACITY.

Tea? TEA! Ha ha! After DRUGGING my tea? He actually expects me to accept a cup from him again?! He truely IS insane, isn't he?

I am scooped up without my consent, unable to so much a truely struggle. Placed gently on a plush chair, a tea table moved in front of me. A familiar cup. My favorite blend. Pretty little snacks laid out deftly on lovely little plates. I grit my teeth. Slowly tip my head up to glare.

He pauses when our eye meet... then shudders, some terrible look of pleasure dancing across his face.

"That's right... look at me~" he whispers, leaning entirely too close. "I'm all that you have now. So you'll HAVE too now! No more others. No more distractions. No more sending me away! People trying to get between us. Trying to take you away. I'm all that you need, My Lady. All you'll EVER need."

"Just look at ME, your loyal dog. And I'll take such good care of you. I promise~♡"

[rosezza]

࿐ Cocaine and Roses

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

-r

warnings: dark!rafe, choking, age gap! reader is 19 and rafe is 28, strong language, use of drugs, violence, force

"get off me." Rafe sneered as he pushed you away from him. dipping his head back down to the table. sniffing up the remains of white substance he had even tho you didnt want him to, your opinion didnt matter to him when it came to his cocaine use.

"Rafe please– i dont like you doing that when im around.." you mumbled quietly, careful not to get on his nerves. "dont care." he sniffled as he wiped his nose, grabbing the small bag filled with white substance, ready to sniff more.

but before he could, you stepped in the way. snatching the bag from his hand and taking a step back, probably not the best idea at all. but you didnt wanna stand there and watch when your unhinged boyfriend kept sniffing coke up his nose.

Rafe immediately popped up from his chair, his big veiny hands clasping the edge of the table to get him up faster. "y/n." his eyes narrowed as he glared at you. he stepped closer, getting up in your face. the air tense.

you swallowed "yea?.." you said quietly, acting calm. he scoffed and bit the inside of his cheek "easy or hard way?" he said firmly, his voice deep as he got closer.

"im not giving it back to you" you shook your head. he didnt answer as his hand moved to your throat, his cold fingers gently caressing your skin as he pushed you up against the table behind you. "actin so fuckin smart, huh?" he tilted his head slightly as his fingers tightened slightly around your throat. causing your lips to part.

you swallowed your own spit, letting go of the coke. he noticed, but he didnt let go. "Rafe.." you said quietly "i gave it back" you added. but instead of letting you go, he only increased the pressure around your throat, slightly cutting off your airways. your lips parted more, your breathing started to be heard.

"i like seeing you squirm." Rafe said calmly as he held you in place. his eyes searching yours, noticing the fear in them. he enjoyed it, a wave of pleasure went through his body as his own hand kept you from breathing normally. it felt good to hurt you. he was sick. but you still loved him, in hopes of one day fixing him. even tho deep down you knew that wasnt possible. not at all

"R-Rafe-.." you gasped for air. your hands moved to his veiny ones. trying to peel him off your throat. but he was too strong. his grip only tightened. he kept you pushed against the table, his other hand on the table beside you, keeping you in place as he continued choking you.

he snapped back to reality when he noticed tears welling up in your eyes, he immediately pulled his hand back. you took a deep breath as he let go, your breathing shaky. a tear ran down your cheek. he sighed and snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you against him gently. "im sorry." he cleared his throat as he held you close to him, he felt guilty. he hated that he lost control sometimes. especially to those he loved. you stayed quiet, but tears kept slowly running down your face as you hid your face in his shoulder, your tears staining his shirt. but he didnt mind. he caused this anyways.

he kissed your neck softly, his warm lips touching your skin before picking you up, your legs wrapping around him, he made sure to be gentle with you. "how about we go get something to drink and then we can watch a movie or something princess, hm?" Rafe said softly as he brought you out of the room. carrying you in his arms

you knew he was nowhere near good. he was the devil, he just didnt have a red tail and horns. but you couldnt help but love him. atleast he treated you well after hurting you. most people called you crazy for dating him, but who cares? you loved him anyways. and he wouldnt let you stop loving him either

౨ৎ

taglist: @necroflame @rafeownsriley

[rush-the-stars]

AFFECTION'S EDGE: PART III

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|| alpha!suguru getou x omega!afab reader || E/18+ || wc: 6.8k || ao3 || <- part ii || masterlist ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

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“You’ve got it all wrong,” he murmurs, “but what am I to expect from a stray like you? You’ve lived off scraps and abuse your whole life; of course you don’t know what to do now that I’ve given you food and shelter.” Suguru’s fingers ease up towards your neck as he continues, “a warm bed to lie in. Toys to play with. A collar—so you’ll never be lost again. No one’s ever given you this before, hm?”

***

Suguru tries to tame you.

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✧ SPRING FEVER collab ✧

cw: omegaverse, brat taming, mind games, toxic behavior, yandere suguru getou, yandere reader, biting, blood, marking, one slap from the reader to suguru and he sorta likes it, fainting, fainting from lack of food, reader refuses to eat because she doesn't want getou to feed her, getou does not let reader eat unless he feeds them; forced feeding. forced bathing, smut; masturbation, dirty talk, voyeurism, a blurring of boundaries, consent as punishment?

a/n: happy mother's day to alpha suguru getou <3 this is the third and final part of this lil series for @lorelune 's spring fever collab! pls mind the warnings, i added some! i will be honest this part feels like a fever dream to myself lol...,.not beta read..,.i barely read it back bc im terrified of my own smut JFDKLSK enjoy LMAO but on a real note, thank you to everyone who has reached out and been so kind ab this fic! i hope you enjoy this last part! let me know your thoughts <33

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When Suguru first offers you food from his own hand, you push it away. He cooked it for you and you refuse it, turn your nose up at him and shut your mouth resolutely, feel your lips cage your teeth like a muzzle

“I’ll do it myself.” You tell him firmly. 

But then he holds the food away from you. 

You go nearly a day and a half, feverish and woozy, without eating. 

You do not plan on conceding, but end up fainting not long after. Your body is under too much stress; you need sustenance. You need food and water. 

So he begins to feed you as your lashes flutter and you are too weak to deny him this time. 

It’s easier, when you can hardly keep your eyes open. His hands are impossibly gentle. You feel his fingers against your lips, careful, and loving. 

When you’re feeling better, you glower at him. 

He is rather pleased, though. 

The next time he tries to feed you by hand, you turn and bite his hand, sink your teeth into the meat of it. 

He laughs warmly, fondly. 

“Feel better to get that out of your system?” He asks, when you finally pull away. 

You don’t respond to him.

He grabs your face swiftly then, big hand fitting around your jaw and bearing down. This time, he holds you steady, and brings the slice of orange to your mouth. 

You squirm, but he says, “I will not have you fainting again.” 

“Let me feed myself then.” You manage to get out, but he holds you tighter, presses at your jaw to get it to unhinge. 

The orange pops into your mouth. 

“You’re insufferable.” You say around it, cheek puffed with the fruit. 

Unfortunately, it’s good. Sweet. A little cool. Refreshing. You do want more. 

“This doesn’t have to be so difficult.” He responds evenly, peeling away the next piece of the orange. It looks so small in his hands. 

You swallow the piece in your mouth. 

“You’re right,” you respond stubbornly, “it doesn’t.” You reach for the next piece but he holds it away from you. 

Frustration overcomes you, chokes you like thorny vines strangling out the softer plants around them. Heat hits your face again and you have to wonder if you’ll ever get over it all. If he’ll ever stop making you feel this way.

Tears prick your eyes again. 

You turn your face away from him. He sighs. 

“It isn’t so bad,” he says softly, “if you’d just give in.” 

You sniff. “I could say the same of you.” 

“I’m trying to take care of you,” he says, “and at every turn, you are still trying to refuse it.” 

“I don’t need—”

“But don’t you want it?” He asks gently, hand reaching out slowly, knuckles first, so they skim your cheek. “It’s okay to want.” 

Stubbornly, you remain silent. 

“You’ve been so alone, for so long, my little stray. It’s okay to be taken care of.” He consoles softly, voice just a rumble that warms to your ears. 

“I’ll not think you any less strong, if you let me feed you now.” He promises, “if you let me care for you this week.” 

You don’t know why, but a tear slips down your cheek. There’s a lump in your throat, hard and aching, and threatening your resolve. 

He catches your tear with a thumb. “Poor thing, so torn up.” 

You sniff hard, trying to hold everything in. It’s trembling and tender, though, your heart. The ache in your chest.

You don’t think you’ll win this one—

Your head is foggy and throbbing. You don’t even know what you’re winning or losing. Or what you’re fighting for, when he puts it that way. 

You feel silly for denying him.

Perhaps worse for agreeing.

Finally, in a voice smaller than intended? you ask, “can I have another piece?” 

Suguru studies you for a moment. 

He lifts the curved bend of the orange up to your lips, testing. Waiting. It's a half moon curve, ripe and tempting.

You give in and part your lips, accept the crescent into your mouth like holding the moon on your tongue for him. 

He presses it inside, on your tongue, and you accept the crescent like holding a soft, tangerine moon in your mouth for him. His fingers skim your teeth, placing a world there, on your tongue.

“Good girl,” he says, pleased and warm, when you close around the slice. 

And then you obediently swallow it down—worldeater that you are, hungry dog that you are. 

Another tear slips free as you chew it slowly. It’s tangy and sweet and lovely. You feel the well of emotions inside you open up, threatening to drag you down into its depths—you think if you start to cry now, you won’t ever stop.

Suguru dutifully peels off another piece of orange, making sure it’s free of rind or unwanted seeds. 

When he lifts it to your mouth, you open readily for it now. Close your lips around his fingers gently, around the sweet orange.

With tears in your eyes, you look up at him, through wet lashes. 

His scent has darkened, pungent and spicier. It lingers in the back of your mouth. It’s—it makes your head spin.

And there's a strange look in his eyes now. 

Almost hungry himself, if you didn’t know better. 

A cramp rolls through you, hips and lower back churning, and you whimper, reaching for him. 

He takes hold of you easily. 

“Hurts?” He muses softly.

You nod, tense and quick. 

“Breathe,” he urges, shifting between your knees from where you’re sitting perched on his counter. 

Instinctively, you cling to him.

You let yourself pull him closer, fit himself to you—

“Breathe,” he says again gently.

But you can feel him between your legs, you can feel his own desire, and it strikes you like a bolt of lightning. Like crashing to earth.

He’s hard and heat sweeps through you in a whirlwind, so fast it makes you feel dizzy. Your head spins as you sink your nails deep into him, bear down with your strength like a bad dog, like you could get him to stay. 

Distantly, you think he’s such a strange, awful man. 

Is he so turned on from feeding you? Or from the fight? 

“Suguru,” you mewl, clinging to him desperately. And he holds you, keeps you close, until your hips twitch. 

You seek friction and he denies you. 

Frustratingly, tears spring to your eyes again. 

“You’re so—“ you try to get out, “why are you also denying yourself?” 

“Because I made you a promise.” Suguru responds evenly. He pauses, eyes flickering over you, a lightning flash of violet, “and, perhaps,” he squeezes your waist, “to teach you a lesson.” 

A noise of frustration works its way out of you, a little growl or whine, somewhere in the back of your throat. 

“Won’t you do anything to help me?” You get out, pawing at his shoulders, his chest. 

“I’m feeding you,” he says, “I’m caring for you.” 

And then he draws away, back to the orange, and your fingers grip the edge of the counter until pain presses into them. You have to force air into your lungs, try and make your head stop spinning. 

The wooziness and the aching is perhaps the worst part. You feel out of your mind, wish you could crawl out of your body. 

When Suguru returns, he has another piece of orange between his fingers. 

You glare up at him with glassy eyes. 

“Open,” he says, warm and low.

Pleased.

Turned on. 

Your lips part and you accept the fruit and his fingers into your mouth. You let yourself close around them, feel his knuckles on the inside of your warm, wet cheek. 

You’re slow about it, or maybe he is. 

You hold his gaze furiously. 

Maybe it was time you taught him a lesson, too. You bite down hard into the orange. It bursts in your mouth. 

***

The third day is perhaps the worst.

You’re so hot and somehow both overstimulated and undertouched. Your skin crawls until Suguru touches you. You ache in a way that makes you fear for your own health; several times you start to cry—not just cry, but bawl—from the pain. From the frustration.

At one point, you beg Suguru to take you to the hospital. To help you. To save you. 

You babble that you’re going to split apart. You’re going to lose your mind.

Like a colicky baby, you can’t calm down. 

And this time, he can’t quite seem to soothe you, either.

You twist and turn and pull at your clothes and your hair. You dig your nails into your own skin and drag them down in vicious, curving marks. 

You press and scratch at inflamed, painful scent glands. 

Your jaw hurts strangely in the joints. 

(You realize you want something in your mouth. Maybe you want it between your teeth.) 

Suguru tries to hold your hands away from yourself, tries to keep you from tearing into your own skin, but it only worsens you. It only makes you fight harder and cry harder. You lash out more, using more force with yourself, with him. 

When he snaps finally, pinning you roughly and with a flash of his sharper, greater canines, something inside of you howls. 

All you can do is beg and plead and cry. Press up against him desperately. Sink your face into his throat and inhale and—

Bite.

Your teeth close around the skin of his throat and bear down harshly.

He inhales sharply, spine going rigid with the pain for a moment.

You taste his blood on your tongue and feel your eyes roll blissfully to the back of your head. Darkness as your lashes flutter shut. You whimper into his throat—

“Is that what you needed?” He hisses, slipping his hand behind you to cradle your head to him, to keep you at his throat, “you just needed to get your teeth into me?” 

As if in response, you twine yourself around him, hitching your legs around his waist. Your arms winding around his broad shoulders, as if you could absorb him into your very body, your very soul. 

“Too bad it won’t take, hm?” Suguru muses, unmoving, allowing himself to melt into your vice grip on him. 

You make a soft noise; one that would be embarrassing if you didn’t—if you weren’t so—

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To Mark me properly?” He continues, voice bedroom soft, “you want to scar me with your own teeth?” 

As if in response, you try and fasten your mouth down harder, grinder your teeth into his flesh until he groans. The sound reverberates through you, rattles around inside your head until you’re mindless with it. 

When you finally manage to unlatch your teeth, he hisses and pulls away to grab your jaw. 

“What a little beast,” he sneers at you, “with my blood all over your mouth.” 

Something inside of you snaps. 

Unintentionally, you shudder into your cursed form—teeth elongating, nails sharpening. Strength rips through your otherwise feeble, heat-laddled body. In a sudden move of power, you shove him hard, and throw him off you. 

In an instant, you are back atop him. 

This time, when your teeth sink into the juncture of his other shoulder, they are far longer. 

He actually cries out in pain. 

The sound sparks beneath your skin, roars to life like a sudden fire and when he tries to grab your jaw and pry you off him, your claws sink into his wrist. 

You struggle with each other, using your cursed energy, using all the strength you have. 

Blood drips down his chest, dampening the collar of his shirt. 

He barks out a pained laugh, “you really are a curse.”

And then he is forcing you off of him, wrenching your teeth out of his skin in a brutal drag, shoving you away from him. 

You hiss, baring your dripping fangs at him and he growls back. The sound low and primal. Warning bells ping around your head, but you lunge for him again. 

This time, he isn’t so ill-prepared. 

He grapples with you on the bed, shoving you down into it with his forearm bearing down hard into your chest. 

You make a noise of pain but he doesn’t let up.

He’s panting and bleeding, his long hair slipping from its usual half-up appearance. 

Something inside of you is quite pleased at the image of him. 

Not so pristine. 

Perhaps unsure, for once in all the time you’ve known him. 

“Calm down.” He says low and soft. Part growl, part purr. “Your aggression is misguided.” 

Your teeth are bared in a snarl, “you are my tormentor.” 

“I am only respecting your wishes.” Suguru says and there is a horrible, smug lift to the corner of his lips. Maybe it’s more a threat of his teeth, which gleam in the lowlight. “I made you a promise and I’m keeping it.” 

“Let me up,” you snap. 

“Will you be good?” Suguru asks. 

Your fever spikes, tears pricking again at your eyes, and you finally lose your transformation. It melts from you, until you are fangless and drained once more. 

So drained, in fact, that your eyes gutter.

Suguru is off you in an instant. Air rushes into your lungs, the pressure from your chest lifting and he lets you heave for breath rough and hard. 

You don’t catch him move, but suddenly a glass of water is brought to your lips. When you can breathe, you drink. You let him guide it to your lips. And this time, when you try to pull away, he stops you. 

His hand cradles the back of your head, keeping your mouth to the glass.

“More,” he presses, “you’re weaker than you know.” 

And for once, you don’t fight him. 

You gulp down the rest of it, some of it slipping from your mouth, down your chin, rolling down your working throat. It’s cool but barely a balm to the oppressive heat inside of you. 

When you finish, Suguru pulls the glass away. He sets it down and studies you.

He tsks softly, “you’re a mess.” 

You take him in, though your eyes are growing heavy, all of that fighting took a lot out of you. It’s catching up with you quickly now. 

But your eyes land on the bite marks you’ve littered him with. The one, specifically, that is still ringed and bleeding, dripping down his chest. 

“So are you.” You reply, words slurring. 

You don’t catch what he says next, muffled, as you fade from consciousness. Darkness sweeps in to cradle you, much the way Suguru is now, and you fall into a restless sleep. 

***

Suguru wakes you at some point. 

It’s pitch black outside the window; there is very little light in the room at all, which adds to your confusion. Your head is throbbing. 

You whimper. 

“Sit up for me,” his voice is a hush, “can you do that?” 

“Let me sleep,” you reply, pushing weakly at him as he forces you up. Everything swims. Your head lolls like a doll and he catches it so you don’t give yourself whiplash. 

“You’re burning up,” he replies, “I need to get the fever down.” 

You don’t have the wherewithal to understand this. 

For a moment, you hope that he means—

“I’m going to give you a bath.” 

You make another noise, this one in disagreement. Fussy. 

He tuts softly at you, the way mothers do at bad children, and then he disappears, allowing you to fall back against the bed once more. 

You’re not sure for how long, but you doze off again, unable to keep your eyes open. You only awake when Suguru lifts you clear from the bed and into his arms. Again, you make a noise of protest, pushing weakly at him, but he pays you no mind. 

You open your eyes and wince against the bathroom light. 

The bath is running, filling with water. You frown and squirm in his hold, just as he gently sets you on the floor beside the tub. 

“Let’s get you out of these clothes,” he murmurs and you push his hands away.

“No,” you snap, “leave.” 

He sighs, “you can hardly sit up right now. I don’t trust you in the bath alone.” 

“I’m not a child,” you protest.

“No, but you’re experiencing a compounded Heat, after years of not having one and you don’t have a knot to soothe you.” Suguru’s voice is cool. His eyes are, too. 

You level him with the best glare you can manage, “and whose fault is that?” 

“I’m only keeping my promise.” He almost sings. 

You swat at him but he catches your wrist easily and pulls you up further as you begin to slouch further and further down against the edge of the tub. “Come,” he says, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

This time, when he reaches to remove your shirt, you only grumble in protest. He peels it from you carefully, revealing bare skin. Despite how hot you are, you shiver hard. 

You ache. 

This is the worst fever you’ve ever had. Perhaps, this is one of the worst you’ve felt ever. 

You can hardly move enough to allow Suguru to slip your bottoms off and you feel so miserable that you can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed or frustrated or angry. 

Tears bead at your eyes again but it’s purely because you are in so much pain. 

Suguru lifts you into the bath. 

It’s lukewarm. Tufts of bubbles smell like lavender. The water is milky and gentle. 

You don’t realize it, but you’ve started to cry again, reaching out for Suguru. You realize he’s cleaned and bandaged his bite mark. He also coos to you, rolling up his sleeves to reach you in the water, stroking at your throat, your cheek.

And then he takes a wash cloth in hand and begins to do the same. He bathes you with a strange gentleness. A gentleness you have not given him. Your tears continue, tracking down your face, which he dutifully washes, too. He wipes away your tears, any sweat and grime, until you feel shining and new.

Eventually, you rest your arms on the lip of the bathtub, folded, and lay your cheek against them. You’re exhausted and still hurting, but at least quiet for now. At least you are cleaned and—

Suguru strokes at your cheek, traces the curve and folds of your ear, gently strokes through your hair. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru murmurs, knuckles drawing across your jaw, down your throat. When he passes along your scent gland, you shiver, you wince a little. 

“Hurts,” you get out and he coos more to you.

Babying you.

And you don’t have the strength to deny him any longer, so you let yourself be babied. You whimper at him and let him try to soothe you, you let him quiet and pet you. 

You’re looking at each other rather frankly, through the haze of your Heat, through all the lust or aggression or fear. In a rare moment of peace, you gaze up at his face and he looks down into yours. 

“Do you hate me?” You ask and your voice is rather raw from all the crying, “is that why you’ve led me here?” 

A strangely fond smile touches his lips, “on the contrary,” Suguru replies, fingers careful along your cheek, “I adore you.” 

“You have such a strange way of showing it.” You tell him. 

“I’m only keeping my promise,” he says again and all you have in you is a deep, dejected sigh. 

“I’m going to make you pay for this, Suguru.” And though your tone is docile, even sleepy, it is a promise. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll try.” He agrees, touch growing stronger, bolder, as he pets down your throat, your shoulder. You lean into the touch like a cat, too exhausted to deny it. “And I’ll still be here after—your ire or punishment will not scare me away.” 

You look at him for a moment, long and hard, and only find the truth there. Something strangely raw.

After a moment, you say, “I know.” 

He hums softly, leaning forward to give your burning forehead a rare and gentle kiss, “do your worst, then.” 

You pick your head up barely, tilt your face to his and catch him in a sudden, burning kiss. 

You pull away as quickly as you’d done it. 

You can tell you’ve surprised him only momentarily, it passes over his features like a bird flickering through the sky, there and gone. 

And you say, “no,” soft, and against his lips, “I’ll do my best this time.” 

He pulls away, creating carefully controlled distance. “Come,” he says, urging you up and out of the bath, “let’s get you to bed.” 

“Carry me?” You ask as he bundles you into a soft towel. “Let me wear your shirt?” 

His eyes glint violet, dark and quick, but he says, “of course.” And indulges you.

He even holds you all night and lets you sleep in late. 

The fever only worsens. 

And you can’t tell if your resolve crumbles or strengthens; but either way, you’re born anew with the sun the next day. 

*** 

Suguru woke up before you. He let you sleep in. But now you're awake and waiting for him. When Suguru returns to wake you in the early afternoon, instead of sleeping, you are half-lidded and sun-warmed, laying in his sheets still. The fever has reached a pitch inside you. You’re sure it’s done irreparable damage to your mind and psyche because of how you find yourself.

Because of how Suguru finds you. 

The shirt of his you’d worn to bed is pushed up to your chin, revealing your bare chest, your stomach, flexing and twitching, with your legs spread. Your fingers between them, working messily against yourself, against where you’ve needed since your Heat began. 

For once, you have shocked Suguru. 

Enough that his lips part. 

Just a flash, a ripple of his features, before he smooths them out quickly. Effortlessly. But it is enough to spur you on regardless, to feel just slightly triumphant. 

You keen softly, arching your back, pushing your fingers gently through silken folds. 

“Suguru,” you mewl his name, all soft and broken, arching your hips into your own touch desperately. Beyond your desire for revenge, is simply your desire, the need to feel full, to feel pleasure like this. And you reasoned with yourself, all night, and all morning, that you’d win regardless; either you’d wrestle his tightly held control from his grasp, and get what you so desperately want from him, or you’d still get to touch yourself and find some brief moment of reprieve. 

Beyond either of those two things, you could not think. They ran around your mind like wild, starved dogs hunting down the possibility of a rabbit. 

(Or are you the rabbit? Running around and around your mind, trying to escape the bite? Or are you looking for it?) 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asks and for a moment, he doesn’t dare step closer to you or the bed. 

You push a finger inside yourself, it goes in easy—so slick and easy—that the next pass, you add a second and gasp. 

What are you doing? You feel half out of your mind. 

“Can’t help it—” you get out, “it hurts so bad. It’s—I’m so—” 

You watch a muscle in his jaw feather and tick. His scent is—

It hits you like a blow to the chest, the way he smells. It’s dark and spiced with warmth; tobacco and the oud in his scent has become heavier. You can almost taste it in the air.

“Suguru—“ you mewl again, pleading and cloying. You tilt your hips up towards your hand, towards him. You’re trying to entice him. 

You can nearly hear the way his teeth grind together. 

“You’re a brat,” he hisses but you can sense the way his control has slipped and thinned. You can nearly feel it fraying in his voice alone.

You practically purr, fingers pushing desperately inside yourself. 

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” you simper, “I’ve been so good letting you feed me and bathe me—I’m wearing the shirt you put me in, too.” 

For a moment, you watch as his eyes slowly dip down the length of your body, to where your fingers are. You watch his expression flicker, the tilt of his eyebrows, the slight parting of his lips. You whimper, knowing he’s watching, and try to curl your fingers. 

But they don’t reach as deep as his might—not thick enough, either, and the ache inside you grows monstrously. 

Perhaps only soothed by the way, for once, you’ve rendered Suguru Getou rather speechless. You toss your head back and moan at the thought. 

“Suguru—won’t you help me? Even a little?” You arch off the bed and catch his gaze when his eyes fly back up to your face. 

“No,” he snaps quickly, “I promised you—“

“Then tell me what to do—talk to me.” You beg, “it hurts so bad, Suguru—“

The muscle in his jaw feathers again. But this time, he wades carefully into the room, stepping closer to the edge of the bed.

The moment he’s there, you adjust so he can see you better, move so your foot is just nearly touching his thigh at the end of the bed. And even that small potential for touch has you crying out again. 

“I’m not sure I should, after the way you’ve been acting.” He says and though he’s trying for casualness, you can sense the tension lurking underneath.

“Touch yourself then,” you breathe, your own eyes drifting down to his sweatpants—to the noticeable bulge—

In a bold move, you place your foot on his lower abdomen, looking up at him through your lashes as your fingers gently push in and out, walls fluttering desperately around them.

He catches your ankle before you can move another inch. The way he squeezes you makes a thrill run through you, race up your spine, pool somewhere low and hot in the depths of you. 

“Is this your way of trying to make me suffer?” He asks and despite everything, a hint of a smile flickers across your heated, panting face.

“Is it working?” You ask. 

All he does is hum, thumb stroking along the bone of your ankle.

Even that is enough for pleasure to skitter and flare beneath your skin. 

“Wanna see you,” you get out, breathy and soft, “wanna see what I’m missing.”

Suguru curses and you laugh, delirious and soft.

Pleasure blushes and surges beneath your skin. 

“No,” he says again but he has to grind the word out, pull it and wrestle it from his own mouth. “You won’t get the better of me here.” 

“Don’t you get tired of your tightly wound control?” You get out, twisting a little so that you might free your ankle from his grasp, but he holds firm.

“I should be asking the same of you—but clearly,” his eyes flicker again, “you do.” 

“Need you so bad—“ you get out, almost pouting. 

You can nearly hear his teeth grind together. He inhales sharply, as if to try and steady himself, but you can tell it only worsens him. Your scent must be thick in the air, sweetened and cloying.

Your fingers slip messily, desperately, over your clit, down inside of yourself and back out. You whine, a little frustrated, trying again and again to satiate the ache inside of you. But anything you do, isn’t enough. 

It almost feels as if it’s made it worse. 

“Poor thing,” Suguru finally says and you realize, he’s regained some of his composure, “look what you’ve done to yourself.” 

You curse this time. 

But you press on, unwilling to give up your win yet, “you’ve also done this—because you wanted the upper hand so bad.” You press inside yourself, hips lifting towards your fingers, “you didn’t have to take the suppressants.” 

His brow flickers up, “I did it for you.” 

“Did you?” You gasp, adding a second finger. 

He swallows, eyes falling to the apex of your thighs, watching, as you fitfully try to pleasure yourself. 

“You didn’t have to—you could’ve let me trigger your Rut. Then we both would’ve been like this—” your voice hitches, “then you would’ve gotten what you wanted sooner and you could’ve feigned innocence.” 

“You didn’t want that,” he says, watching you carefully, “who's to say you won’t come out of this Heat and resist me again?”  

“I won’t,” you breathe, “I did—” you mewl, hips arching and falling, trying so hard, working yourself up so horribly. 

You bite off a groan. 

Suguru clicks his tongue, makes a soft, disapproving noise. “And now look at you,” his hand slides along your calf, so large, and—

“Don’t even know how to properly touch yourself.” 

“Suguru—” 

Suddenly, he tugs you gently, so you’re down at the edge of the bed, your legs on either side of his thighs as he stands above you. 

He leans down slightly and you sit up, towards him, hoping, desperate—

“Such a terrible, little Omega. Do you need me to teach you this, too? Do you need me to help you?” 

You cry out, kitten soft, as needy and tender as a child. 

“Please,” you beg, “please, I need you—”

His hand traces up the outside of your calf, up to your thigh and you squirm, hope fluttering, heart racing—

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, “or I won’t help you.” 

“Suguru,” you growl in frustration. 

“Ah, ah, I thought you were being good?” 

Your head spins—you have no idea how he managed to flip it on you so sharply, but suddenly he has, and suddenly you're nearly underneath him, and he’s leaning over you and watching so intensely—so— 

You try to go still for him. Your chest is heaving. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs and his hand slowly arcs over the bend of your hip, and towards your stomach. Your hips twitch and he stills, “careful—” he warns. 

You force yourself to freeze, still panting. 

And then he lays the broadness of his hand on your lower stomach, his thumb just barely brushing your mound. 

“This is as far as I’ll go,” he says and with the way you almost fall into a frustrated groan, he seizes your chin with his other hand, “I’ll not touch you sexually. This is all I’ll give you—be grateful for even this.” 

You sneer at him and he takes his hand away. 

Instantly, you miss the warmth, the pressure, the—

“Be good, or I’ll leave the room now and let you suffer even worse than before—see what you’ve done to yourself? Worked yourself up so horribly, and all for what?”  Suguru’s voice is soft and smooth and so, horribly in control again. When did he get it back? When did he take it from you? 

“My attention? The hopes that I’d give in?” He asks. 

When you don’t respond, he squeezes your face, prompting you, “answer me, pet.” 

“Yes—I want your attention. I want—” the words break over you like a wave, the realization like a blow. You want. 

You desire. 

You want him. You want an Alpha and not just any Alpha but Suguru, despite everything, maybe because of everything. Maybe because you made him chase, and he did. Maybe because you have run your whole life from this—this attention and this desire and this intimacy—and you have finally found someone willing to hunt you down like a fox, and in the face of your gnashing teeth and growling and yipping, to treat you gently. Like you’re a beloved house pet and not a snarling, wild beast. 

“I want you,” you say honestly and his hold slackens on your cheeks to let you speak, “I hate you and I want you and—there’s no one but you—it’s only you and you’re awful but I am, too, and I need—” 

It cracks out of you, voice raw, a half-sob. 

Your tears make him smile. 

He hushes you gently, “oh, sweet girl,” he soothes, and his other hand slowly returns to its place on your trembling, lower stomach, “you’re so torn up about this. How much grief have you given yourself? Hm? Just for wanting?” 

You heave, unable to respond, suddenly reaching with your free hand for him, pulling on his shirt, closer to you. 

He gives in and goes, lets you claw at his back and bury your face in his shoulder. He finally lets go of your face, in favor of letting you fall to pieces beneath him. His knee dips on the mattress. But he holds himself above you still.

“I’ll guide you now,” he murmurs and his voice is by your ear. He turns his nose to nudge against your temple, inhaling slowly. 

You can feel the rumble of a groan through him that he holds back, a soft growl. 

And then, “look at me.” 

You sniffle and with a great deal of reluctance, you pull your face away from the safety of his shoulder to find his gaze. Midnight violet. Depthless. 

“Hate me all you want,” he says, “but I adore you—no matter how you are. Willing and pliant, or vicious and biting. I’ll always adore you. And I’ll always do what’s best for you.” 

Something inside of you cleaves open. Fractures in a way that is irreparable. 

You want to say something but you don’t know what, you have something so tremendous and terrifying inside of you, because of him—all you can get out is a soft cry. 

“Now,” he continues, eyes flickering over your body, and his thumb gently strokes over your lower stomach. “You feel empty, don’t you?” 

A whimper eeks out of you. You nod slowly. Empty and torn apart and open and aching. 

“Use three fingers, not two.” He commands gently, “you want something bigger, hm? I’m sure it hurts so badly—you’re so wet.” 

Without thinking, you obey him. 

You press three fingers carefully inside of you and it’s the first stretch you’ve gotten, the first spark of relief. 

You cry out, clinging to him. 

“That’s it,” he encourages, “in and out for me.” 

You tilt your hips up into his hand, towards your fingers, and he doesn’t scold you. The pressure on your lower stomach makes pleasure bloom and strengthen there. For a moment, it’s just the soft, slick noises of yourself, and it’s so—

Embarrassing. So horrible. 

You must look out of your depth, you must look lost or terrified, because he finally speaks again, “curl your fingers for me, darling.” 

You do just that and moan the moment you press deeper inside yourself. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “does that feel better? Answer me.” 

“Yes—yeah.” You get out, crooking your fingers inside yourself. “I still want—” 

“More?” He murmurs, pressing his hand gently against your lower stomach, “this time, you have to make do with just this.” 

You bite back your whine or complaint, head hazy—fingers moving desperately. But you don’t complain, you don’t fuss. 

He smiles when he realizes how you’ve caught yourself, “oh, look at that,” he purrs, “you can be tamed after all.” 

And before you can ruin it for yourself, Suguru sweeps his thumb just barely over your mound again, and says, “rock your hips now, gentle.” 

The moment you do, the friction against your palm makes you moan, head falling back, baring your throat. 

Perhaps without thinking, he dips forward, nose tracing over the cure of your neck, following instinct. You make another soft noise, and in your haze, wish desperately that he would just bite down—

All you get is the brief skim of his warm, soft lips. No teeth and you miss them, achingly. 

He presses his hand down just a little more and—

Pleasure bursts beneath your skin with enough force that your back bows off the bed, mouth parted. 

You sob. 

You feel your walls flutter uselessly around your fingers, feel your body desperate for something you can’t have this time, and fall apart.

Suguru is there to catch you. 

He coos to you, soft and easy, and even kisses at your damp, tear-struck cheeks. He lets you arch and twist and chase your pleasure, lets you be wanton and shameless and desperate. He lets you claw him and bite him and cry into his shoulder. 

And when you begin to quiet, he suddenly hitches your legs around his waist and lifts you clear from the bed. You lope your arms weakly around his neck and bury your face into his throat. 

You don’t protest or fight him, you are grateful and eager for all the places you touch, feeling incredibly fragile in his broad arms.  

You don’t bother to look where he’s taking you—can’t find it in yourself to care, if you can feel him against your center, feel where he’s hard and aching himself, even with the suppressants—

But between one breath and the next, you’re in the bathtub again, and the water from the shower blasts on from above. 

Ice cold water pours on you. 

You shriek and Suguru has the nerve to laugh, which makes you lunge for him, yanking him towards the spray of water. 

It soaks his shirt, his hair, as he holds himself over you, before stepping carefully into the tub to join you. 

He sits with you, beneath the cold water, and pushes his hair out of his face as you clamber into his lap. 

You pull at his wet shirt and he lets you take it off of him, throw it over the side of the tub in a heap. 

He reaches to do the same to you, ridding you of the only article of clothing you’d had on. 

You grit your teeth, “does it have to be so cold?” You ask, feeling the spray now rain against your back, your shoulders. You lean away from it, into his arms. 

“You needed this.” He says fondly. And then, as he strokes your wet hair, “I did, too.” 

“You’re an awful man,” you curse him, shivering.

“I know,” he agrees with a soft, fond smile. 

You look at him, hair inky and dark, lashes damp against his cheek, and the pleased way he smiles. Like an insufferable, giant cat. You’re aching and furious and freezing and so—so tender. 

“I hate you,” you tell him but it sounds more like a confession, soft around the edges. 

He kisses your temple, lingers there, and you can feel the curve of his smile. You can hear it color his voice;

“I know.” 

***

Something shifts between the two of you after that. And the following day, your Heat finally begins to wane slightly. 

You try to touch yourself again and Suguru forbids it this time. You fight and snarl with him, but you let him hold you and lull you to sleep. You let him feed you. And bathe you. You sleep bare against his naked chest and are soothed by it the way a fussy baby is calmed by the bare skin of their mother. 

You feel infinitely closer to him. 

You lounge with him in bed, in his living room, hanging off him all that you can. 

He indulges this behavior, encourages it, even. 

And on the eighth day, your Heat finally breaks. 

When you wake, still curled on his chest, with his hands stroking tenderly over your bare back, he asks, “how do you feel?” 

“Sane, I think.” You murmur it into his chest. 

“Your Heat broke in the night.” He says and touches your head, your forehead, like he’s taking your temperature. “You’re still a little warmer, but it’s over now, I think.” 

Slowly, you pick yourself up to look at him. To hover over him. 

He looks up at you, too, uncertain. Waiting. You’re sure he’s waiting to see if you’ll return to your usual self, if you’ll snap or snarl or chew him out—will you storm out? Or seethe? Will you fight him still, after everything, even as he holds you in his arms now? 

“Thank you for respecting my wishes,” you say instead and lean down to suddenly press your lips to his. 

You feel his surprise, the way his lips part, the way he freezes and you sink down into it. For a moment, you worry he won’t reciprocate again. 

But then, his hand comes up to cradle your face, and he nudges into the kiss. Hungry. Deep. 

You give into him, you encourage him, coaxing him with soft tongue and eager mouth. 

When you pull away, you grab his face this time, the way he always grabs yours, squeezing his lips into a little pout, “but if you ever make me suffer like that again through a Heat,” your nails dig into his cheek, “I’ll fucking kill you.” 

He laughs, canines flashing, and surges forward to kiss you again. Harder. Meaner. 

It’s all teeth and heat, a little vicious, the way you are. He wrestles you beneath him, kisses you into the mattress. And when he pulls away, he says;

“If you ever make me suffer like that again, you’ll wish you’d killed me first.” 

You feel your own smile against his neck, against one of the ridges of your own bite mark, and with all the satisfaction in the world, you sink your teeth down into it again. 

It’s like a key coming up against a lock, fitting snugly to their own indents, and finding their own, well-worn place. 

It’s like finally coming home. 

[conchcronch]

Every Kiss with You - Part 2

Sanji x You

Sanji told you to wait, but it’s never been something you’re good at. But he takes pity on you and makes up for neglecting your needs for far too long.

Part 1 if you haven’t already read it.

NSFW Below the cut.

You pull yourself out of the kitchen, blanket dragging behind you as you step out onto the deck. The sky is golden kissed with light red and orange tones, the sun peaking over the horizon casting a romantic glow over the whole boat.

You try to get back to your quarters as quickly as possible, the throbbing between your legs becoming overly distracting as is the slick that’s made its way to your inner thighs. You’re briefly stopped by Robin who is surprised to see you up and about so early, but you assure her you were just helping Sanji with his morning prep since he seems especially tired this morning. She waves you off to bed, assuring you she’ll convince the crew to help clean up the dishes so he’s able to get some more rest. You’re about 60% sure she saw right through your lie but you couldn’t care less as you beeline to your room.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back against it as you mentally try to figure out how much time you have left. You deduce about 10 minutes but you know you can’t realistically hold him to such a tight timeline. You throw yourself on the bed, laying on Sanji’s side with your face pressed into his pillow loving the smell he left behind. You can’t help but wiggle your hand between your body and the mattress, pressing against your neglected clit, a whine caught in your throat as you feel how tacky the inside of your thighs are. You struggle to contain your voice as you rut against your own hand, wishing it were his. You can hear the crew stir in their quarters, Zoro staggering into the shared wall as he forces Luffy to get up, his groggy voice clear as though he’s in the same room as you. Normally being reminded of the thin walls would have forced your hand away from your wet folds or at the very least cover your mouth with your free hand, but not this morning. You bite your bottom lip in hopes it stifles your sounds but your fingers only pick up their pace against your sensitive nub.

Your hips are raised off the bed, your hand working your clit as you chase after your orgasm, the 15 minute countdown long forgotten. You’re so close, the smell of his pillow paired with your hand that’s almost cramping from the unhinged pace has you right on the edge. “What did I say?” His voice catches you entirely off guard, you had been so caught up in chasing your own pleasure you hadn’t even heard him come in. You felt a warm hand on your ass, shoving you over so you were on your side, staring up at him through teary eyes. His curled eyebrow is raised as he loosens his tie. “Well?” You blink your eyes a few times, trying to swallow but your mouth is so dry it almost hurts.

“I-I didn-” He reaches out to grab your chin, his grip is tight enough to lead you but not enough to leave any marks. He pulls you gently as you push yourself up on your knees as he guides you as high as you can without standing.

“What did I say?” His eyes scan over your form, eating up the way your stolen shirt is off center so your shoulder is exposed, your hair still mussed from sleep. “How many times am I going to have to ask?”

“You said to w-wait.” You hadn’t thought that’s what he had meant, you thought it was more like he wanted you to be there when he returned. But really you should have known Sanji never liked you to indulge in your own pleasure without him, something you had never taken seriously but also never admitted to.

“And what didn’t you do?” Another rough swallow that was loud enough for him to hear, making him smile.

“I didn’t wait.”

“You definitely didn’t.” He lets go of your chin, your body naturally slouching from the extended position he had been holding you in. “Imagine my surprise when I come down the hall and hear you moaning.” Your face burns “Moaning for everyone to hear.” With a knee on the bed he starts to unbutton his dress shirt, leaving it open as he pulls his tie over his head and hanging it off the headboard. “It’s like you want someone else to hear.” You want him to touch you, you want him to throw you back on the mattress and do anything he wants. But he does everything he can not to give you what you want. He carefully unbuttons the few buttons holding the shirt you stole together, taking great care to let the tips of his fingers ghost over your exposed skin every time he separates the button from the fabric.

“I couldn’t help myself.” It’s all you can manage to say, you have no excuse and he knows it.

“Well if you want it so bad,” He pushes the shirt off your shoulders, leaving you entirely bare before him. You can tell he’s restraining himself, he wants to run his hands along your chest, wants to pepper every inch of your skin with his lips but it’s not often he gets you in such a vulnerable position and he was going to enjoy this. He leans forward, bringing his lips to yours for the first time since entering the bedroom but stopping a hair away. “What do you want to do first, mon cœur?” He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours, tongue sliding along your bottom lip, begging to let him in, and who were you to deny such a request? He slowly crawls onto the bed as you find yourself being pushed back, one hand cupping his cheek the other running along his bare chest. The kiss could have gone on for hours, but when he finally pulls back there’s a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours. He tries to lean back in to continue the kiss but your words give him pause.

“I want to…” Your voice faded, and you hoped he got the message as your eyes darted downward, lingering on the tent in his slacks. Even if he did get the message though, he wanted to hear you say it.

”Want to what, my Princess?” His lips curved up at the edges, confirming he did, in fact, know what you meant. You decided to show him rather then tell him, knowing he enjoys when you take charge. You begin to sit up, a hand on his chest pushing him back slowly. When you’re both sitting up you ungracefully scoot around him and off the bed, he turns himself around so his legs are dangling off the bed just how you want him. Your hands make quick work of his slacks, pulling them open and tugging at them to signal you wanted them off. He laughs a bit at your determined expression, lifting his hips for you to guide his pants and boxers off his hips and down his legs until you could toss them behind you. You normally would have enjoyed having him at your will but the white hot iron that was turning in your loins was too much to ignore.

You were quick to wrap your hand around his cock, loving the fact that his tip was already slick with precum. Despite the high bed, his long legs were planted firmly on the ground, allowing him to thrust into your mouth with ease if he so chose. You ran your hand down his muscular thigh and calf as you lowered yourself to the ground, coming face to face with his thin but above average member. You hazard a glance up at him, his eyes glued to you almost unblinking as you licked a long strip from the base of his cock to his head, tongue circling his tip before engulfing it with your mouth. Your name was hot on his tongue, slipping out the same way breath does. You’re quick to take more of him in your mouth, expecting your skills to be rusty but thankfully the nights spent fantasizing about this very moment come in handy. It isn’t long before your nose is nestled against his groomed blonde hair at the base of his cock, your gag reflex ignored as long as you can before you force yourself to pull off for a gasp of air.

His hand grabbed your hair, pulling it back as though it were tied up in a ponytail. His grip only really affecting your rhythm when he wanted you to pull off. “T-to think” You could tell he was struggling to get the thought out, taking his time to pause and let out a shaky breath every few words. “I n-neglect-ted y-you so long-g” His head was lolled back, his eyes scrunched closed in concentration. You finally released his cock from your mouth, your jaw only aching a little bit as you messily lap at his head, loving the way his whole body all but vibrates. You slowly stand up, hands running up his thighs until you can press kisses to his chest, pushing his open shirt off his shoulders.

“I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me.” You said against his neck, unable to resist sucking hickies as you trailed up to his face.

“I want to taste you.” Words you never got sick of hearing.

“I suppose it’s the least you can do.” You say before kissing up to his lips, his tongue greedily exploring your mouth once again. His hands find their way to your ass, picking you up like you weigh nothing and moving so he could lay you on the bed. Slowly you watched him lay back against the mattress, he looked at you with a love drunk expression.

“Ride my face” you knew your face was bright red from how it burned. “Please” he reached a hand out to you, reaching right between your thighs to rub his thumb against your clit. You knew your apprehension wasn’t long for this world the moment his hand slid between your legs but something deep inside you fought against his request.

“What if…what if I weigh too much, what if I suffocate you?” You couldn’t even make it through the sentence without both a sigh and a laugh, realizing how ridiculous your concerns were even once they left your mouth.

“Then that’s the way I want to go.” With the hand that wasn’t between your legs he led your hand to his lips, peppering it with reassuring kisses. “Ma puce, you have nothing to worry about.” He watched as your hesitation melted away, giving way to pleasure. “Please my sweet” your brows knit together before finally you nod. He guides you from where he laid you on the bed to straddling his face.

He could tell even though you agreed you were still unsure so his hands moved along your skin slowly, making sure to ease you into things barely able to restrain himself from tasting you. As he felt you ease into his hands more, your core lowering to be within tongue’s reach. He lapped a long strip along your lips, both of you morning in unison. You glanced over your shoulder and watched his cock jump, his precum making a small puddle just above his belly button. With every movement of his tongue he would moan wantonly into you, his sounds getting progressively more pornographic.

“S-Sanji you’re be-ing so loud” you stuttered out, barely able to string words together to piece together a sentence that made any sense. His grip only tightened on your thighs, tugging you down further so you were fully sat on him. The feeling of his facial hair against your ass as you grind down on his mouth was something you never expected to feel nearly as good as it so clearly does. His nose nudges at your clit every time he laps a long strip along your core, his face sure to be covered in your slick. You feel the twitch of an approaching orgasm right behind your navel, as you rut against his mouth his needy moans pushing you over that edge, a slew of incoherent words spilled from your mouth.

Your hands supported you as you fell forward, your vision blurred and the sting of overstimulation bit at your clit but Sanji didn’t stop. His tongue still ran over your core, teasing your hole every time. Each time his nose grazed over your clit your whole body tensed but despite all of that, you felt yourself ushering towards another orgasm. You could feel how wet your thighs were, you knew he was bound to be drenched but from between your legs he coaxed you. “You can give me another one” He managed between his greedy lap, his voice muffled by your cunt.

“S-Sanji” His name seemed to be the only word you remembered in this moment, your brain cells long since gone only to be replaced with his name. With each breath you exhaled, his name was on your tongue. You found it in yourself to hump against his face, your arms shaking the more weight you put on them, your muscles felt like jelly but the need for another orgasm outweighed everything else.

“Cum for me, please, I need it” You could feel his breath on your cunt, his lips moving against your folds as he spoke. And yet, what sent you over the edge again was the way he moaned greedily into you, as though his desire for you to cum was a need more then anything else. And when you finally felt the earth shattering orgasm take your body you couldn’t control the volume at which the moans fell from your lips, you knew everyone on the boat could hear you but in that moment nothing mattered.

Your body slumped, your arms barely able to hold your body up as he lightly licked between your folds, unable to resist your taste despite the pitiful pleading whimpers that slipped from your lips. Eventually he forced himself to stop, his hands very gently guiding your hips to the side, your whole body rolling until you were laying down facing him. He sat up slowly, his entire chin slick with you, his facial hair was shiny and his tongue was licking his lips repeatedly. “A-are you okay, my love?” His hand touched your cheek, his form moving so he was crouched neck to you, the smell of his arousal and your’s filling your nose.

“Fuck” Was all you could manage, your eyes falling closed as he held your face with one hand, moving your hair from your eyes with the other.

“I should have stopped” He said quietly, it was unclear if it was intended to be heard by you or kept to himself. You stayed quiet for a few minutes, enjoying when he laid down next to you, pulling you to rest your head on his chest.

When you reached down and grabbed his neglected cock, you’re sure he was half asleep and you startled him awake, earning yourself a surprised moan. “Did you think I was just going to ignore this?” Your words were quieter than normal, maybe trying to make up for just how loud you had been earlier. “This is what I’ve been waiting for, fantasizing about '' You slowly slid your hand along his shaft, loving the way he leaned his head against yours as he breathed heavily. “Sanji '' He hummed as you ran your thumb over his hole, gathering the bead of pre cum and working it down the rest of his cock. “Sanji, I need you to do something for me.”

“A-Anything for you, ma petite.” His hips bucked to meet your strokes, “I’ll do anything for you.” His tone was whiny, his lips covered yours, the position was awkward and you knew if you stayed like this much longer you would have a kink in your neck. A kink that you’d be sure to mention in passing so Sanji could help you get rid of it later.

“I want you to fill me to the brim until I can’t take anymore.” You spoke into his mouth, his affirming hum returned into yours.

“You want my cock that bad?” You shook your head, feeling his lips pull away, opening your eyes to see his staring back at you a few inches from your face. Confusion painted across his expression. Without another words you cleared the distance, your hands wandering down his lean form as you moaned into his mouth.

“No Sanji,” You breathed into him, forcing yourself to pull back because you needed to see his reaction to your next sentence. “I need you to fill me.” You knew he was trying to process every possible meaning behind the sentiment other then the true meaning you were intending.

“My love, I don’t think I understand.” You cupped his face, loving the way he leaned into your touch, moving his head so he could press a kiss to your thumb.

“Oh that’s the thing, I think you know exactly what I’m asking for.” His expression blanked, and if your gaze had been downcast towards his cock that was currently drooling pre cum onto your belly you would have been the very noticeable way he bobbed at the realization. As his brain tried to wrap itself around your words, you took advantage of it, pushing him off of you similar to what he had done to you earlier. Wasting no time getting on top of him, and rubbing your folds against the head of his cock. He scrambled to sit up, pushing you both up further on the bed so he could prop himself up against the wall, his hands grabbing your waist.

“Y-you’re sure?” You very slowly sat down on his cock, slow enough that you could feel every inch of him enter you until he was fully inside of you.

“I’m so sure.” You couldn’t help but moan out, your hips grinding against his pelvis, feeling him stretch you out.

“I won’t last long” His cheeks flushed at the words, the sensation of your heat wrapped around him with no barrier was already making it hard for him to resist, his words coming out in puffs with his breath.

“I don’t need you to.” You leaned forward, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as he guided your body off of his cock until just the head remained inside. He moved your hips around, fucking you on just his head, the sound of your slick was the loudest thing in the room, that is, before he pushed you down onto his cock with no warning evoking a surprised moan to lurch from your throat.

He clenched his jaw tight as he manipulated you on top of him, his blunt nails digging into your waist as he tried to stave off his orgasm as long as he could. You could tell he was close, anyone with eyes could see the way his brows were knit together and his hips were even beginning to buck into you. But just as you thought he was about to cum, he picked you up and all but tossed you onto the pillows to your left. His breath was short and his skin was dewy, he ran a hand across his face trying so hard to will his orgasm away. You watched as he clenched his hands into a fist, the muscles in his stomach tensing and untensing for a minute or two before he looked back at you, “I’m not done with you.”

Next thing you knew, he was on his hands and knees, grabbing your ankle and pulling you underneath him. His hands guided your legs onto his shoulders, his lips attaching themselves to your neck so you could hear every grunt, moan and breathe, “Just tell me if this is too much.” You were surprised to hear his words so steady, you half wished you could speak in such an even tone in this moment but any chance of that was gone as soon as he slipped his cock back into you. Your thighs were sandwiched between his chest and yours, the burn in your hamstrings was intense but somehow only served to enhance everything else you were feeling. Every time he thrust into you he let out a low moan, lapping at your neck between sounds.

“S-San-ji” You were repeating his name as though it were a prayer, the smacking of your skin filled the room and just when you thought you were teetering on the edge, you forced words out”’Ji I want you to c-cum” He stifled a moan in your neck as a response, swallowing hard before managing to piece together a sentence.

“You want me to c-cum…inside?” You nodded the slapping of him against you got quicker, and surely louder.

“Fuck yes, please!” You begged, the words tumbling out of your mouth so quickly you couldn’t even keep track of what you were saying. You could feel his hot breath on the side of your neck as he turned all his focus onto reaching that peak, which truthfully wasn’t going to take that much. “P-puh-lease cum inside” You dug your nails into his back, dragging them downwards so you could claw at what little of his ass you could reach. His thrusts began to lose their rhythm, until finally you felt a wave of heat fill you from the inside, his hips pressed flesh against you for a moment before he began thrusting hard into you again, fucking his seed into you as you both were unable to control your volume.

His thrusts slowed until they stilled, his head laying limp against your collarbones as his breath warmed your chest. You knew there would be a mess once he pulled out but you couldn’t help but think about how good that had felt. Your mind was blank, no thoughts, no opinions, just how this moment felt. The comforting weight of him on top of you, the way you could just barely hear the slightly hint of a whimper every time he exhaled, how good his hair smelt. You nuzzle your nose into his hair, pressing lazy kisses as he slowly returns to the land of the living, the realization of your position taking a few seconds of dawn on him before he scrambled to sit up. The sudden movement caused his flaccid cock to shift inside of you, causing both of you to moan almost painfully as he carefully helped your legs off of his shoulders. His gaze flipped between your expression as he pulled out and watched his cum slowly drip out of your hole once he was fully out.

If he hadn’t already drawn 3 orgasms out of you, he would have been extremely tempted to clean up the mess he made between your thighs but he resisted. Opting to grab a towel that was hanging to the back of the door and carefully wipe at his seed before it began to dry into a crusty mess. When he felt he had cleaned up the majority of his cum that was working its way out of you, he crawled back onto the bed next to you, pulling a forgotten blanket from the bottom of the bed over both of you. You were quick to readjust yourself so your head was on his chest, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat as you felt yourself being lulled to sleep.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had both fallen asleep at the same time, the last time he had carded his fingers through your hair as you dozed off. You heard his voice, heavy with sleep whisper something to you, but your mind was still too fuzzy to be able to piece his foreign words together

“Je te choisirais plutôt que tout le reste.”

[slickchickchocolatier]

okay so I went to the zoo today and it was so hot and sunny and I wore a sundress that was long but everytime I sat down or propped my legs up it kept riding up my legs. Can I get a small Drabble on how heelead would react had he been there with me? Just a small one? Pleeeeeeease???

Sure. I have time to draft a small something for you. Apologize for it being rushed by I’m at least semi-proofreading as I go. If it’s all good with you, this one will be a heethan Drabble. Seems appropriate.

Warnings: Heethan is a bit unhinged (triggered by you wearing a dress), dominant yandere, yandere love, some non/dubcon acts, sexual acts in public, some cursing…think that’s it. Just the usual.

“Hey. Hey!” Your yelps catches his eye as the wind rushes in between your legs, scooping and flaring the hem of your skirt to ride up your thighs. You ball up the loose material in hand, pushing it down to fall at its rightful length. Heeseung stands there with an aloof, but stern expression. His eyes darken, becoming glossy as he refuses the urge to blink. His jaw is clenched, and his teeth grind while his tongue pokes at the inner cheek.

Initially he didn’t care for the dress—it was too long and far more conservative than what he would have liked. It would have been nice had you opted for something that didn’t necessarily reveal your derrière, but perhaps a little leg wouldn’t have been so bad. When you stood firm about your choice in attire, he figured for the sake of time—and yourself, that he’d make you pay for it all later, once he had time to calm down from the minor frustration of seeing nearly the entire length of your beautiful legs covered. On such a warm, glowing day nonetheless.

But when the wind caught the edge of your skirt and its lining just right, and raising it, there was something so fine and delectable in the manner of how the bulk of material coiled around your upper thighs. Just below your panty line.

The way your hand desperately attempted to smooth it down, but the wind remained as the victor, and continued to lavish you with strong gusts. It was sexy.

The way the skirt kept slinking upwards as you shifted in your seat. Your expression grows frustrated from fighting against it, while his transfers to the look of a feral beast, watching as raw meat dangled in front of his curled snout. A deep instinctive urge rises from deep inside his chest as he watches the skirt go higher, briefly showing off the fabric of said panties—lace. Fuck yeah.

Whether you wore it because you knew it was his favorite, or if it was simply a matter of selected choice at random, it didn’t matter. In you, lace looked just as fitting as frosting on cake. He loved it. What he loved more was that you having it on, proved that you were not only just a doll—his one and only babygirl, but you were also a good doll.

His good girl.

The proof was in what was underneath that skirt. Without even realizing, he took back the harsh gesture in his earlier non-verbals, all expressing distaste for the skirts length. He never knew that the act of coverage slowly unveiling the prize was so appealing. That urge was beginning to coil up in his gut, causing a tingling rage that began to pulsate his member. It started to throb, as if it was breathing on its own. He wasn’t going to be able to wait any longer. Especially not with you blushing, gripping and pulling your skirt, holding it in place, on the verge of tearing up. Oh yeah.

“Come here.” He quietly tells you while raising his hand. You slightly pout as you took hold of it, and let him lead you to an obscured area. You assumed that he noticed the humiliation painted on your face, and was merely taking you to a private spot to fix yourself. Little did you know, he was about to do all the fixing for you.

“Stand here.” His tone continued to be calm and quiet, a bit elusive as he glares down at you through heavy lids. “Strip.”

You looked up, slightly gasping and rather appalled by his sudden demand. His tone went from gentle to firm; a bit demeaning actually. “W-what?”

“I said strip.”

He was serious. His expression and tone remained unaltered. Was he actually going to make you strip in public? Despite being in a secluded zone, away from open view, he couldn’t possibly think this was a suitable spot to do what those dangerous, bedroom eyes entailed. Tucking in our chin, eyeballs shifting to the side, you jerked the skirt up, when he stops you. “Slowly…”

You looked up and watched as he crossed his arms, stirring a look of slight annoyance as if you were purposely defying him. “Drop it.” His voice was still so stark calm. You did as he bids, and let the material fall back down to rest against your ankles. “Now, grab it and slowly drag it up.”

Perhaps he knew you all too well, because the way his dangerous eyes peered down at you, he could already tell that you were beginning to soak through those lace panties. He could smell it. And believe him, it was the sweetest scent that made his mouth water.

Your breath hitches as you watched him glare at you. The firmness in eye contact never breaks as he starts to lean his head back, and those black beady eyes glow from the shadow underneath the bill of his cap. You gush at the sight of that forceful, yet intimidating feature. What a man.

You drag the lace lining slowly, letting it subtly graze against your skin as it rises higher, and higher. You let out a breath, shaken and unsteady, as it slowly seeps beyond those small, pursed lips. Of course, you had on that favorite red color he liked—cherry red. All the better.

Your fingers and thighs begin to tremble, while your chest heaves. Watching as you attempt to force each breath to come out steady, but failing, he feels himself breaching a snapping point, when suddenly he hears you shakily spill out in such a chiming, bell-like tone…

“daddy?”

Snapped.

Without so much as a predatory command or heads up, he dives down and immediately grabs hold of your hips. Swooping a hand underneath, he loops your thigh up and over his shoulder, making you inherit the position for what was coming. Ripping those delicate lace panties, he’s shreds them as he forces his fingers to tear through the soft mesh pattern. Reaching up, he harshly grips the button front resting against your cleaver, and tears it apart. Buttons snap and fly off to the side as his cool hands warm themselves on your breasts. Huh…no bra. Good girl.

Squeezing and digging his fingers into the softness of those fleshy mounds, he reaches down and slips a finger in between your folds, avoiding direct penetration. Not yet.

His tongue swirls, licks, and drags up towards your clit. He coils his oral muscle around it, flickering the tip as his nose digs in. Tasting you, he inhales and releases a deep moan as he suspends your weight higher, causing you to lose footing with the one that remained touching ground. Your ankle dangles against his back shoulder as he forces his hold on you. He digs his fingers into your thigh whenever you jerked from the heightened sense of stimulation, causing you to have a moment of relapse and removing your leg off his shoulder. But he won’t let you off the hook so easily, especially when you’re spewing out moans that carried a hybrid tone of his name and gasps for air.

With tender kisses against the inner flesh of your leg, just underneath where those juicy, plush lips laid nestled, he takes a moment to show you his softer side in appreciating your skin. But it only lasts for just a few seconds, then he dives back in like a hungry wolf. Starved for your moans, he wants to hear more. Wants to hear you call out his name.

“Open.” He mumbles as he extends a hand upward, able to reach your throat and grab on while demanding you to open your legs back up. The sensation was too great, you kept clenching your thighs together, trying to restrict his access. But you knew better.

With your dragging against the planked wall, your body shifts up and down as you absorb the momentum of his act. The way he dove in, pushing his nose and lips against you, his tongue deeper inside you, your body hand no choice but to take in everything he was willing to give. And he gave a lot.

You choked out your moans, gasped for air, and breathlessly call out his name. Your stomach trembles, and your chest extends towards the sky, leaving your head to lay restlessly aback while you swallow nothing but the warm air. Your body is chaotic—not knowing whether to breathe or scream as you come undone, feeling him slurp and clean you entirely too well.

When all was said and done, he stands and places small, petal kisses on your lips, while his grip on your neck remains—and even tightens. Amidst receiving those petal kisses, you watch as he takes his free hand and dives it down. The sound of his belt unbuckling snd jeans unzipping causes your chest to panic as you grow both dreadful—and delighted, in what he was about to do. “Did you cum for daddy?” He asks laconically while placing another soft kiss to your lips. You nods with your brows slightly furrowed in despair, but also yearning for it.

“Good.” He calmly spits out. He makes you stare into those beady eyes as he swipes the tip up and down in between your folds, pushing it against your clit. “My turn.” For a moment, you watched as those eyes widened rather psychotically as his level of possessiveness grew. He was going to claim you in the way he does best…by making you scream. Whether anyone hears you is all entirely up to how good you could keep yourself quiet. Like a good girl, right?

“Say ‘please, daddy, please.’ And I might let you cum one more time.”

You nod as you bit down on your lower lip. Eyes watery, and cheeks flushed. He smirks and releases a dark chuckle. That damn smirk of his. It does something to you, every time.

“Ready?”

You watched his smirk grow wider as you felt the tip of his throbbing member begin to enter.

“Ready or not, here I come.” >:)

[opal-orchard]

warmth & respite

18+ mdni!!! • fluff, smut (oral/face-sitting receiver!Ellie)

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Ellie’s had a difficult day, only you can give her what she needs.

1.5k words

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a/n: hi i’m nai! please accept this as my offering to the tlou community. i’m not new to writing or tumblr but this is my first tlou work and my first time writing a full smut so pls be nice lol. if there’s anything you want to see me write my ask box is open :)

i hope you enjoy it and if you do pls reblog and follow, i rlly want to make moots on this side of tumblr, you all are so unhinged and gay (my kind of people!)

The door to your shared studio slams shut, you don’t need to guess who it is —you could tell by the sound of her footsteps approaching the door. But you look up anyways and watch a disgruntled Ellie throw her dripping backpack onto the ground, her face twisted into a scowl.

“Patrols have been fucking insufferable lately,” she groans bitterly to no one in particular, removing her gear from her backpack and thigh holster.

You set your novel down and prop yourself up on your elbow, watching her intently. You know when she’s like this all she needs is you to listen.

She’s soaking wet, making her muscular arms glisten, and her tight black jeans and tank top press against her body. You salivate looking at how the fabric of her jeans hug every curve.

“I keep getting assigned to train Evan,” she continues, still fixed on putting away her gear, “He thinks he knows Every. Fucking. Thing!” She slams her drawer shut with a groan.

“And he’s so fucking annoying. Keeps trying to ask me stupid questions cause I like girls, and of course we had to take the river trail today, so that dick had to make sure I got all fucking wet!”

She glances over at you for the first time, and her demeanor softens. “Hey you,” she exhales.

“Hey. Sorry about your day,” you respond back.

“I need a shower, I’ll be back,” she says, heading towards her bathroom, peeling off her top as she walks, making you revel in the sight of her wet back muscles.

——

She emerges from her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her body, her short hair damp and a little messy. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she softly rubs her hand along your leg, as if to remind herself you’re tangible and alive.

“Hey babe,” she says with all the gentleness she can muster, a soft smile on her face. Your eyes meet hers, and time stills. You’ll never grow used to her calling you that, no matter how many times she does. Warmth spreads through your stomach anytime her voice is this soft and raspy.

“Sorry I was …like that earlier. Just had a bad day.”

Wordlessly, you crawl behind her and wrap your arms around her bare shoulders, pressing soft kisses along her neck and cheek. Her skin is soft with a tinge of lemongrass from her soap.

“No need to apologize, my love,” you say, pressing your face against the curve of her neck, “I’m just happy you’re home safe.”

“Me too,” Ellie whispers, planting a kiss on your arm.

You two revel in this moment—in the relationship you’ve built, full of warmth and respite from the violent, cruel world you live in. You think of all the ways you want to make Ellie feel good.

You turn her face towards yours and press your lips against hers. Ellie’s lips are soft and she opens her mouth to let you take the lead for a little before she kisses you back with intensity. It makes you moan into her mouth and she takes that opportunity to plant open mouth kisses against your jaw and neck.

The sensation leaves you breathless but you gently push her back before you’re too far gone. “Wait— Ellie, I— I wanna— can I eat you out?”

She bites her lip, and a playful smile forms, “Can you?” before returning to your neck. A challenge. You make your lips meet hers again for a sloppy kiss and undo her towel; Ellie gasps into your mouth at the sensation of the cool air hitting her exposed skin. A string of saliva connects your mouths when you pull away and she’s flushed, the skin under her freckles a dusty rose.

You wrap your arms around her back and press your clothed chest against her bare breasts, it’s your turn to leave her breathless with open mouth kisses. “Mmmm you feel good, babe,” she purrs, her head tilted sideways from bliss. Ellie grips your shoulder and presses your head deeper in the crook of her neck.

Growing needier, Ellie rubs her chest against yours. The sensation of her bare nipples against the fabric of your top making her breaths more erratic. You lean down to take one in your mouth and she whines, gripping you tighter. “Ooh shit!”

Kissing the space between her breasts, you let your hands roam her body and her skin is hot to the touch. Liquid pools on the tips of your fingers when you reach down to touch her pussy, her swollen lips spreading with so much ease. She’s soaking wet and scorching hot, and the contact makes her jolt with pleasure.

Ellie watches, transfixed as you put those fingers in your mouth with unwavering eye contact. “Shit,” she grits, in this moment, something snaps— and you both know what’s about to happen.

Ellie shuffles off the bed and stands in front of your face. She loves being above you when you eat her out. You pause and marvel at her curves from her chiseled shoulders down to her hips, how her figure widens and narrows, then widens again. How her taut stomach leads to her most intimate spot that’s hovering right before your mouth. You scoot to the edge of the bed and Ellie props her leg on it to give you access.

Bound by the urge to be more intimate, you wrap your arm around Ellie’s thigh and pull your bodies closer. Looking up to meet her affectionate eyes you’re overwhelmed with a desire to savor her, to pleasure her. No one else has ever made you feel desire and warmth as searing and intense as she has.

Dragging your fingers from her belly button to her labia, you use your index and middle finger to open her lips, and a swollen sappy clit greets you. You take it into your mouth to suck—your lips between her lips and moan at the sensation that runs through your body.

Ellie’s mouth falls agape and her eyebrows contort in bliss, “Oh you good girl, oh fu— just like that!” She cradles the back of your head and rubs your scalp affectionately.

You grip the flesh of her ass and thighs tighter and swirl your tongue around her clit and suck on her folds. “Ugh just like that,” she rasps, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, her hand gripping your hair a little tighter. You lick laps from her clit to her entrance and she bucks against your face.

She can get a little bossy when you fuck, you love when she tells you what to do, “Put your tongue inside,” she commands her voice raspy and breathy, she spreads her leg a little farther and pushes your face deeper in her pussy. You oblige, swirling your tongue around her swollen entrance before pushing inside. Ellie tilts her head back and releases a loud, guttural moan, so unfiltered and unafraid. You’re french kissing her pussy now, your lips pressing against and sucking her entrance to get your tongue as far inside.

Her juices are all over your lips and nose and cheeks, some beginning to drip down your jaw and chin.

“F-fuck, I need more,” Ellie gasps and with a swift motion she pushes you flat on the bed. She’s positioning her pussy on your face before you can ask questions, and she continues grinding into your mouth and nose. Your arms are awkwardly suspended in the air before you settle them on her waist.

You’re transfixed by her taste, her scent, her lascivious sounds filling the room, the sight of her head tilted back in bliss and her stomach flexing as she gyrates on your mouth. “Oh babe—oh babe!,” she moans, her face contorted and eyes completely glossy with pleasure.

She’s practically using your mouth and nose as she sloppily grinds her folds over them. Your mouth is growing sore but all you care about is getting her there, you stick your tongue back inside her, and she’s gone.

You grab her hips to help her ride through her orgasm. She releases a lascivious moan and bucks her hips one last time before she melts, her body limp and her chest heaving, her pussy sopping wet and throbbing. Creamy white sap oozes onto your lips and you lick it, savoring her taste.

You watch her stomach muscles flex as she lifts her leg to dismount you, and in this moment you realize just how dazed and aroused and transfixed you are. But content more than anything, that you could give the girl you love so much pleasure.

She collapses beside you and grabs your jaw, kissing you with tongue. “I needed that babe. I love you… so much” she says softly and licks her lips. She languidly wipes her thumb along your cheeks and puts it in her mouth.

You watch her and you both lay there motionless, placid from bliss, but it’s getting harder to see her clearly with the room growing darker. You peek out the window and the sun is setting in the summer sky, “Ugh, it’s getting late, I should head to Tipsy Bison and get you something to eat befor-“

Ellie grabs your arm and firmly pulls you back onto the bed in one graceful, effortless motion. She’s still laying there blissed out and it reminds you just how easily she can overpower you if she desires.

“I’d rather skip to dessert.”

———

a/n: in retrospect i don’t think this position would work unless ellie’s bed is really short…

i’ve read this over so many times i’m starting to hate it, so if there’s a mistake i apologize lmao. my goal is to not be so hard on myself and just write more lmao

[another-lost-mc]

Wait a minute now hold on! Vampire Asmo makes the most sense to me out of everyone. He's the avatar of lust and what's most commonly known about vampires? Their bloodlust is usually the first thing one would think of. Like I already love to see the demons with the more "monstrous" attributes but this event? Flawless. This is purely me having an absolute thirst for demons being possessive and wanting to mark/scent their person up. 🤭

You're right—Asmodeus as the Avatar of Bloodlust is amazing. A little scary, though.

Vampire!ASMODEUS x gn!Reader, 1.1k words, nsfw, dark themes if you squint.

Content warnings: canon-typical vampire behaviour: possessiveness/jealousy, obsessive/unhinged thoughts, implied violence/murder, spicy towards the end.

more from the vampire!au

Vampire!Asmodeus whose aura is more alluring now, and it's stronger and more seductive than the strongest charm magic. He hopes he never has to use it on you.

Vampire!Asmodeus who falls even more in love with you because there's nothing more romantic than you willingly giving him your blood. He cries the first time he feeds from you because he loves you so much and you're so precious to him, and you taste so good...

Vampire!Asmodeus who is more sensitive to smell now than ever before. He loves your scent, but smelling others on you triggers possessive fury deep inside him. You should only smell like him.

Vampire!Asmodeus who is extremely clingy when you’re in public or around other vampires and demons. He’s not shy about being affectionate with you where others can see. He wants them to see how much he loves you. He isn’t shy about warning others to stay away from you if they get too close. His aura crackles with power and he growls, deep and menacing in his chest, at anyone that tries to touch you. It’s the only warning they’ll get.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who always knows if someone dared to approach you when he wasn’t around to scare them off. Your scent is tainted, and he gently coaxes the truth from you—you might not mention it if he doesn’t bring it up first. You shrug it off as silliness because everyone knows you’re together, and he hides his rage with fake smiles and gentle teasing. He waits until later, when you’re sated and fast asleep in his bed, before he goes hunting for vermin that should know their place.)

Vampire!Asmodeus who secretly likes taking you to public places where he can show off to everyone else that you’re his. When possessiveness simmers deep inside him, his emotions—his love for you, his lust for your body and your blood—amplifies tenfold. He's desperate for everything you can give him. Feeding from you and fucking you is so much sweeter when he’s overwhelmed with passion.

Vampire!Asmodeus who takes you to places like The Fall when he wants to indulge in a night of bloodlust and depravity with you. His hands roam your body and linger on your pulse points so he can feel your heartbeat beneath his fingertips. The heat of the dance floor causes your blood to pump faster and it enhances your delicious scent and taste even more.

Vampire!Asmodeus whose rumbling purr builds to a growl in his chest as crushes your lips together. He licks into your mouth and his fingernails dig into your hips when your tongue brushes against one of his fangs. His eyes blaze bright with possessive rage when he glares over your shoulder at the others watching nearby. He knows they're staring at you like a piece of meat, but they can’t have you because you’re his.

Vampire!Asmodeus who grinds his cock against you in search of friction because he wants you to know exactly how much you affect him. Bloodlust tinges the edge of his vision with red when you reach between your bodies and squeeze the hardened length against your hip.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who momentarily thinks about wiping that teasing smirk from your face by pushing you to your knees so he can choke you on his cock and paint your lips with his cum.)

Vampire!Asmodeus who can barely resist the urge to bite you now. He leads you off the dancefloor towards the private room he keeps on reserve for his use—he wants you so badly, he can hardly stand it—

Once you're alone, Vampire!Asmodeus rips your clothes to tatters as he backs you towards the bed and covers your naked body with his own. Your skin is so warm and glistens with sweat, and the sweet aroma of your blood and your arousal nearly makes him drool as he stares down at you.

Vampire!Asmodeus who is stunned by the love and lust reflected in your own eyes, and he wants you so badly but he won’t risk hurting you by rushing things. He murmurs his love and praise against your neck as his fingers tease between your legs and prepare you for his cock. He's so desperate for your blood on his tongue and your body clenching around his, but above all else, he needs to hear you say you love him too.

“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” he whines between open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. “You’re so beautiful and so perfect, I love you so much.”

His eyes meet yours when you cup his cheek so softly with your palm. “I love you too,” you say, trailing off into a high-pitched moan as his fingers scissor inside you and stretch you even more. You arch your back against his chest and roll your hips to try and fuck yourself on his fingers, but it’s not enough. “Please, I’m ready, I want you so badly—” 

Vampire!Asmodeus who finally sinks his fangs into your neck at the same time he buries his cock deep inside you. His hips move in sync with the greedy, slurping pulls of blood he coaxes from your veins. He groans when you come first, your body tightening around his cock like the sweetest vice until he comes too. 

Vampire!Asmodeus who licks the wounds on your neck to expedite their healing. His mouth is smeared with crimson and his eyes are glossy and unfocused. He groans when you pull him to your mouth for a sloppy, desperate kiss as pleasure surges through you.

(Vampire!Asmodeus who wonders if you like tasting your blood on his tongue after he's fed from you. Part of him wants to offer you his blood too—do you think about it sometimes, like he does?)

Vampire!Asmodeus who slides down your body because he’s still hungry for you. He bites into the soft, plush skin of your thighs and drinks while your hands tangle in his hair. He chases the taste of your blood with the cum and slick that coats your skin. He alternates drinking from your thighs and making you come with his mouth over and over until your voice is hoarse from screaming his name. 

Vampire!Asmodeus who gathers you in his arms and curls around you protectively when you're ready to sleep. He licks his lips and hums happily at the delicious taste of your blood and cum that still coats his tongue. He traces the lingering bite marks on your neck and thighs as you drift off to sleep, the neat lines of puncture wounds arranged in shapes of the letter ‘A’.

Vampire!Asmodeus who loves you more than anything or anyone else, including himself. 

Obey Me! Masterlist

[xythlia]

𓏲 ࣪₊ warnings: toxic dynamics, mind games, possessiveness, jealousy, piv, use of clit/pussy/cunt, cervix fucking, mating press, choking, semi hate fucking (?), blood mention

feedback \ rbs are appreciated ♡

eep I hope I did unhinged asmo justice @jeschalynn

Asmo adores the fact that your love for him is double edged, expressed in a way that to an outside observer may not seem quite like love at all.

He doesn't want a different kind of love though, on the contrary he can't help but feed it, drowning you in displays of affection only to slyly shift his focus to another just to watch your teeth flash and your eyes narrow. To him, this is love. Every time he smells arousal dancing across your skin afterwards he can't help the yawning ache that opens inside, the one that calls to crack you apart and hold your heart in his hands and taste blood on your lips because after all isn't the point of love to consume?

And god does he want to consume you. You, so cute beneath him with your bruised, swollen lips and glassy eyes. With your mouth hung open he has a full display of those human canines, wondering if the pain of them piercing would be perfectly balanced with the pleasure of it coming from you. When you're so riled up you let him fill you to the brim with his cock, as much as he wants and he loves you for it.

But it's when you spurn him ever so slightly that has his cock throbbing, the sudden sharpness of your previously unfocused gaze as you purposely refrain from touching him.

"Oh, still feeling jealous are we?" He sneered, lips pressing against your cheeks with every turn of your head.

"If you want a kiss go ask your groupies," you murmur as your head tips back, tongue peeking out in a voiceless moan as his skilled fingers draw teasing circles around your clit.

It was funny, in a way only you could pull off, to still cling to jealous resentment with your legs on his shoulders while his balls slap against your ass. Asmo bit his lip to keep from giggling, that might piss you off a little too much and he didn't want you leaving. Especially not now. But it does little to hide the delighted smirk on his face.

He's loved that you love the same way he does from the moment he first observed it, you're the pool of water to his Narcissus.

"It's funny to you?" You bite back between gasps as he pushes your legs up towards your face, body braced above yours now. "You know how I feel but you still-"

Your voice trails off in a high pitched groan as he shifts the pace to slow but deep, cock nearly kissing your cervix with each movement. Asmo puts both hands against the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks and making your skin boil in white hot embarrassment as the squelching sound of your cunt fills the room.

"How do you feel, hmm?" He sing songs.

"Screwed up! You piss me off," your eyes are squeezed shut and you can barely force the words out against how good he feels, "your fans make you act crazy-"

In response every roll and push of his hips was skillful and the hand come to wrap around your throat and press on your carotid carried both tenderness and a warning. Through your fluttering eyelids you noticed his horns. Satisfaction, sticky and sick, welled up alongside your cresting orgasm making your thighs shake.

H fucks you like he's batshit crazy, eyes shining with something you don't have the capacity to identify right now, and pressed so close to you it's almost like you're one form. Calling him that always makes something crack inside him, and you stick your fingers inside the hornets nest every time.

Indents from your nails carve an angry red track around his forearm, but he's too focused on keeping that fucked out look etched on your face. Crazy, it's the only ugly word to fall from your lips and he knows you do it on purpose, knows you like what comes after and honestly so does he. Hearing your thin, strained whimpers doesn't make him loosen his grip on you.

That sharpness is back on your features.

"Don't get mad now," he purrs, shushing you.

The obscene noises of your slick cunt sucking him back in seem to grow louder and louder. Your eyes roll back as his pace finally becomes frantic, desperate to fill you up. "Besides, it sure doesn't sound like you're mad."

You squeak and slap his forearm which makes him relax his hold as you start sucking in air with broken hitches and blubbers of his name, for him to shut up, how much you love him, how much you want more.

He likes that you're the same, wired the same and with all the same buttons to push.

[floralcyanide]

Hii, how are you? I was wondering if I could order Joe Rantz's smut? with the prompt marathon session. Thank you so much!!

PS: I love your writing. 💘

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!

find this prompt and more, here!

Joe Rantz x Fem!Reader

prompt: marathon session (they just fucking keep going, babyyyy)

a/n: thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy my work (:

If there’s anything you love about your boyfriend Joe, it’s his strive to keep going and persevere despite whatever comes his way. So you waste no time saving to go to the Olympics in Berlin when Joe and his rowing team secure their spot there. You reach your monetary goal and go along with the boys, enjoying every moment. When the team wins the gold medal, everyone is extremely proud, especially you. And you want nothing more than to celebrate with Joe. You don’t expect what Joe has in mind for celebrating, though.

He is beyond hyper from the adrenaline of the win, riding it all day long until he can finally get a moment alone with you. Joe asks if he can stay in your hotel with you instead of the athlete quarters, and you agree, of course. You and Joe have had sex a few times here and there when you’re able to (when he isn’t busy training or practicing.) However, you aren’t expecting how the night is going to unfold with Joe’s sexual appetite. 

The first round is mind-blowing, and you cum quickly. You ask Joe for another round, and he obliges, still pent up with energy. He flips you over into a different position, taking you from behind this time. And God, you could do this all night. Joe is like a feral, unhinged animal with the way he’s snapping his hips forward against your ass as he pounds into you. He reaches his peak, filling you up with his hot seed. You’ve yet to finish, so Joe keeps going despite the overstimulation. The feeling of your wetness and his cum around his cock makes him turned on again, making it easier for him to fuck into you without restraint. You both orgasm together this time, and you’re nearly seeing stars with how powerful the waves of pleasure are. 

But you’re still not done.

When Joe pulls out of you, you immediately shove him onto the bed where you were once positioned and hover over him.

“Time for the Olympic gold medalist to get the ride of his life,” you smirk, running your hands along his chest as you sit on his thighs.

“God, you’re gonna kill me,” Joe runs a hand through his now slightly sweaty hair, a grin on his face.

You hum in response as you slowly sink down onto him, fully seating yourself and remaining still as Joe adjusts to the feeling of you pulsing around his sensitive length. He grips your hips harshly, hissing when you move just slightly.

“Can you take it?” you ask, making sure you aren’t hurting Joe or pushing his limits too much.

“Keep going, baby,” he slides his hands from your hips up to your breasts, palming your sensitive nipples, “I can take it.”

You test the waters by slowly raising yourself off of Joe before slamming back down in a quick motion, and Joe lets out a guttural moan at the feeling of his tip brushing your cervix. You gasp, deciding you want to feel it again, so you repeat the action. Now, you’re freely bouncing on Joe’s cock, not being subtle about how good it feels. Joe drinks in your moans, growing harder inside you. A few more pumps, and you’re shaking as your arousal slips down your thighs. The feeling of you tightening around him sends Joe over the edge, filling you with his cum again. You both decide this is the last round and clean up before settling into sleep. 

Joe may have won the best competition there is today, but he scored the absolute most when you came into his life.