#i love him and he WILL be happy and satisfied this is a threat

[ectoplasmer]

voicing how I get insecure over the fact that I can’t handle horror as well as the bakurae can because i’m a wimp and having a 50/50 chance of being met with a response like “oh no that’s fine!! that just means you’re more sane than me” or “you haven’t seen nor experienced nearly the amount things I have but yes you are a wimp”

[sugume]

r/ATIA for WHAT!? w/Jujutsu Kaisen  

More: Fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, dubcon, piss kink, necrophilia, manhandling, choking, coercion, teacher x student, power dynamics, blackmail, threesome, Cuck!Gojo, drinking. unedited

Featuring: Nanami Kento, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru

PART 2

r/fuckingmystudent posted by u/Nanami_Kento 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you try to recall the events that lead you to get your brains fucked by your professor. He caught you filming a video for your Onlyfans in his class. So, he took your phone and asked you to meet him in his office after class. There, he forced you to unlock your phone and show him what exactly you were recording. It was utterly humiliating and watching him, watch you, finger yourself with a pen underneath the desk. After, he’d told you that he’d tell the dean you were getting off on his voice lecturing you unless you did something for him.  Which led you ass up on his desk, trying your hardest not to make a peep as his fat cock slammed in and out of you. “Now, what I'm going to do is take out my cell,” He grunts, rolling his hips deep into you. “And record you slamming your ass onto my cock so if you decide to open that sweet mouth of yours, I'll have no choice but to send this video to mommy and daddy back at home, understand?” You nod, tears forming in your eyes from the threat or incoming orgasm, probably both. “Say ‘Yes, Professor!’ and maybe I'll send you the video so you can post it and feed yourself this week.” 

r/peeinginher posted by u/choso_Kamo 

Ankles beside your head, Choso had you folded in half as he pounded into your swollen cunt. He’d been going for what felt like hours and you were about to reach another peak when he abruptly stopped. “Choso?” you rasp, voice raw from screaming. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, staring up at him as he stares down at your glistening cunt. He just tilts his head and continues to stare. You’re about to ask again when he blinks from whatever trance he is in and starts thrusting in and out, slower this time. “Nothin’ baby, jus’ gotta piss.” “T-then stop and go, hm–” you gasp when he pushes your legs down further. “Stop and go to the bathroom Cho.” you try to pull his hands off your calves. Choso tightens his hold and grins down at you. “C-Choso?” “Why would I get up when I have a perfectly capable toilet right here.” Is all you hear before you suddenly feel a foreign warmth in your cunt followed by wetness trickling out your pussy.  

r/askinghertoplaydead posted by u/Ryomen_Sukuna 

“You wan’ me to do what?” You ask, staring up at him from your position between his legs. “I asked you to stop suckin’ my cock and hang off the bed like a drugged-up bitch on her last life.” He stares at you with a look that tells you he isn’t truly asking. “B-but ‘Kuna—” He grabs your throat. “Don’t you wanna make me happy, hm?” You grab the hand around your neck. “Mhm.” “This ‘ll make me happy, little girl,” He plants a firm kiss on your lips. “Now do as I told you, actually I’ll do it, I know you aren’t the best at following orders.” He says before pushing you back like a ragdoll. “Yes, now lay there, don’t move, don’t speak.” Sukuna reiterates, finally satisfied with your position, naked on your stomach with your head hanging off the bed. He wastes no time shoving his big cock into your cunt. You groan from the sudden intrusion “Kuna!” “Shut up, dead bitches don’t fuckin’ make sounds.”  

r/forcinga3some posted by u/Gojo_Satoru 

“Sit on his cock love,” Gojo demands, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you onto Suguru’s lap. “S-Satoru!” “’ Toru!” You and Geto screech at the same time. “C’mon guys, it’s fine I don’t mind, Loosen up!” Gojo looks at you on his best friend's lap and his cock twitching underneath his pants. He palms it. Don’t worry, we’ll have our turn. “I know you two want to fuck, c'mon! Do I really have to pull it out and shove it up your tight cunt?” Goji grits out, increasingly frustrated when the two of you stare at him like a pair of deer in headlights. “Baby, I-it was just a truth or dare question!” Your head aches and you put both of your hands on Suguru’s broad shoulders to stable yourself, trying and failing to ignore his hard under your panty-covered pussy. “Was it? So, you aren’t wet right now? And you Suguru? You aren't rock fucking hard at the thought of fucking the same pussy I cum in every night?” Gojo raises his eyebrow holding eye contact with you until you look away, face flushed. Suguru sighs, throwing his head back with murmured ‘fuck this.’ before grabbing your waist. “Yes! That’s what I thought. Ha!” Gojo laughs, watching as Suguru starts grinding you down on his bulge.  

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE ONESHOT- We Aren’t Over

VOTERS RESULT FROM MY POLL<3 XOXO ENJOY

Info: FWB gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, PIV, FWB, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Begging, Teasing, Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Good Sex

"You look so fucking sexy..."

large hands belonging to an admittedly handsome Ravenclaw student that you failed to acquire the name of gripped your hips; firmly pulling you against his tall body as his lips grazed your ear, hot whiskey breath washing over you, intoxicating you even further than you already were.

One hand slid around to your ass, gripping a palmful of the plump flesh over the fabric of your Slytherin uniform skirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as he nipped your earlobe, teeth tugging gently on your emerald earring, his voice a low reverberation down your spine.

"I'd love to rip that awful fucking uniform off of you and get a taste of what you're hiding under there..."

Your cheeks burned, warmth flooding you as you chewed on your lip, bringing your mouth toward his own ear now as the two of you could hardly hear yourselves think amidst the blaring music coming from the speakers in the out-of-control Friday night Slytherin party, green flashing lights blurring your vision further than the alcohol was as you squinted to try and get a better glimpse of his face.

In your intoxicated state, you couldn't recognize this guy for the life of you. The only thing that gave away his Ravenclaw status was his uniform.

"I'd be careful with your next words there, little Raven," you purred, your unsteady fingers finding his shoulders. "I promise you, you'll regret coming into my house and disrespecting my emblem like that..."

Gods, you were fucking hammered, but since you and your friends-with-benefits had called things off last weekend; you'd been desperate to find someone new to hopefully satisfy you just as well as he did--but admittedly, your hopes were low.

Not many boys knew your body like the back of their hand, or knew exactly how to drive you sexually insane, the way Mattheo fucking Riddle did.

"Is that so?" His grip on your body tightened, a deep groan leaving his throat as he pressed his lips to your jaw. "I'm not quite sure a poor little serpent like you is any match for a big bad raven like me..."

"You'd be surprised," you retorted, slowly threading your fingers through his thick brown hair. "It's been proven that even the most intelligent birds couldn't elude the cunning serpent's snare..." you tilted your head, smirking. "But go on, underestimate me...that'll be fun."

His eyes widened, the darkness inside his pupils boring into you, drowning you in their endless voids. Your stomach twisted as your sight locked in with his, and you took a moment to analyze his features a little better. Gods, he looked so fucking much like Mattheo.

Why was it that you could never seem to get that fucking guy out of your head?

You were convinced that you were going to die one day with his gorgeous fucking face still haunting you--those dark penetrating eyes, that devilish, seductive smirk--that messy mop of chocolate curls that sat effortlessly adorable over his forehead. Fuck, you hated him.

You hated him for fucking you so good you couldn't stop fucking thinking about him; even after the endless bickering and arguing the two of you had been going through over the last few weeks, causing a consensual end to your hookups--you hated him for occupying your mind even while you were pressed up against an undeniably sexy new guy, who clearly had a deep interest in you, who clearly wanted to fuck you until your legs gave out.

You should be happy right now, you should be overly fucking ecstatic, practically brimming with relief as the Ravenclaw guy leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and capturing your mouth in a sloppy, intoxicated kiss; his tongue slipping past your teeth as his hands gripped your ass with enough force to bruise--you should be completely fucking overjoyed as your lids fluttered shut, your mouths working over the others with a little too much desperation as you stood in the middle of the crowded common room, fervent fingers gripping onto each other as though your lives depended on it.

You should be happy, but you're not.

When you broke the kiss, the Ravenclaws brows furrowed, but before he had a chance to ask you to his dorm, and in a hopeful attempt at subtly saving yourself, you brought your lips toward his ear, trying to sound as sexy and inconspicuous as possible. "Why don't you get us some drinks?"

When he smirked, nodding in agreement, he graced your ass with one last squeeze before he spun around, making his way across the room and heading toward the bar station. You watched him as he went, and as soon as he had disappeared within the sea of inebriated bodies; you let out a long, exasperated breath; spinning on your heel to quickly make your way to the bathroom and away from that spot before he returned.

Sure, you felt bad for ditching him like that, but he was just as drunk as you were. He'd forget you even existed by the morning.

As you shoved your way through the endless amounts of drunk, sweaty bodies, you'd almost successfully broke through the crowd when a strong, firm grip wrapped around your wrist; hot breath washing over your neck as a tall body pressed against your backside--a height so towering and presence so intoxicating you already knew, without hearing his voice or seeing his face, that it could only be one fucking man.

"Where you headed, princess?" Mattheo's deep, husky drawl rolled through your eardrums like honey; a slow, thick, and admittedly fucking seductive pitch. "You're not really going to ditch that poor bastard after getting him going like that, are you?"

You turned your head, trying to glimpse him over your shoulder, fighting to hide your smirk. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Riddle."

"Ouch...one week without my cock and we're already back to second name basis, huh?" His grip tightened, his body heat enveloping you, his plush lips pressed tight against your ear. "I'm just surprised...you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Stalking me, are you?" You scoffed, trying to pry your wrist from his hold but he tightened his grip even further, other hand snaking around to your hip. "Is the big heartless Riddle boy jealous?"

He chuckled, and you could almost see the smirk on his lips. The feeling of his chest rumbling against your back did inexplicable things to your cunt. Gods, you hated how you were already fucking melting for him and you haven't even taken one single look at his face.

"Were you thinking about me?" He purred, teeth nipping at your ear, the arrogance in his tone igniting flames in your veins. "When his tongue was halfway down your fucking throat, were you wishing it was mine?"

"Give me a break, Mattheo." Your head was spinning, oxygen evaporating; but you knew you needed to play it off. "Don't fucking flatter yourself."

"You know you love the things I fucking did to you..." by this point his voice was a low growl, his tone so deep and dark in your ear it sent shudders skittering down your spine. "You know you'll search for me in every single sad sack you try to distract yourself with."

Heat flashed your face, his fingers digging into your hip with enough force to bruise. "Jealous of a Ravenclaw...must be a tough pill to swallow for the Slytherin prince-"

When his teeth sunk into your earlobe with enough force to basically tell you to shut up without actually saying it, you yelped--eyes fluttering shut as he tugged you back against him with added force.

"Keep talking, princess, and I won't hesitate to walk over there and rearrange his fucking face..." he spat the words through barred teeth, your bones shaking with the deep vibration. "Do you even know his name? Huh? Do you even know who the fuck he is?"

Gods, you were cursing yourself. As if you were about to fold for this man after he'd basically told you to fuck off and leave him alone no less than a week ago. Your brain knew, above all else, that what you were about to do was completely fucking wrong--but your cunt paid no mind to your brains protests. Your cunt wanted Mattheo Riddle.

"No, Matty, I don't..." you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to you neck. "Lots of night left, though...I'm sure I'll be quite familiar with it when I'm screaming-"

He sunk his teeth into your neck now, forcing a sharp squeal from your lips--another commanding gesture to silently warn you that if you kept talking, he was going to fucking lose it. Part of you hoped he would.

"What have I told you about saying my fucking name like that, princess..." he growled, licking a flat strip up the side of your throat. Fuck, you loved that tongue. That skilled, tentative fucking tongue. "And if you keep talking like that, the only thing you'll be screaming is for me to stop when I'm beating his fucking face into the floor..."

His words made you fucking shudder, a full body tremor against his built chest, entirely unable to control yourself now. The need between your thighs was becoming more insistent by the second, and at this point--you were at a complete loss for words; your lips involuntarily uttering the one word you knew you'd never forget how to say, regardless of how speechless you were.

His name. "Mattheo..."

"There she is..." he murmured, the praise in his tone making your breath hitch in your lungs. "Aren't you glad you met me? I know you got me stuck inside your memory..."

Long fingers slipped under the fabric of your shirt, grazing over your stomach. Bodies were everywhere, drunk students around you paying absolutely no mind to the intoxicated sins the two of you were about to commit.

"No," you uttered, so quiet you weren't even sure if he'd heard it. "I want you out of my fucking head..."

He purred in satisfaction, revelling in the fact you'd finally admitted to missing him. "Should've listened to me, princess...told you I was bad for you..."

More heat swarmed you, your thighs screaming; begging in need. "We can't keep doing this...it's so wrong, Matty..."

"But it feels so right, doesn't it?" His hand around your wrist snuck down to your hip, his other pressed against your stomach; pulling you tighter against his crotch--your breath evaporated when you felt his aggressive bulge against your ass. "Feel that, princess? That's what you fucking do to me..."

He pressed his lips to your pulse, teeth softly grazing over it, and you mewled; head falling back against his shoulder, body melting into his own--surrendering yourself to his intoxicating dominance just as you've done time and time before.

"I hate myself for letting you do this to me..." you breathed, head rolling to the side as his teeth worked purple possession marks into your skin. "I'm so stupid for you..."

"That's it, admit it, baby...admit that you missed this..." his grip tightened, tone thickened with lust. "You're my little devil, you know I'd sin for you..."

At his words, your entire body ignited into pure fucking flame, magma replacing the blood that flowed through your veins; threatening to melt your uniform and leaving you in nothing more than a pile of ash at his feet. You were done talking, you needed his fucking cock.

"Are we gonna quit the talking and do something about it then, hm?" You purred, tilting your head back to meet his eyes for the first time; your head spinning as you drowned in the dark hurricane of their desire. "Show me how you'd sin for me, Matty..."

"I'll show you, baby, I'll fucking show you..." he said, wetting his lips as he held your stare. "Your dorm or mine?"

Music to your fucking ears. "Yours."

Without another word, Mattheo gripped your wrist, his hold like a snake, slithering around you gently at first; slowly increasing its pressure until he'd cut the blood flow, threatening suffocation of your lungs and leaving you with only hungry, primal desire--eradicating all thoughts of just how horrible of an idea you knew this was. He dragged you out of the common room and toward his dorm, not sparing you a single glance as he ripped open the door and pulled you inside; slamming your back up against it as it closed, one hand snaking toward the lock and clicking it tight into place.

When he paused, two hands finding residence against the wood on either side of your head; not moving, only staring, it was as though the rest of the world faded away--and all that was left was the cunning, messy brown haired boy in front of you. His presence filled the room, suffocating you, stopping your heart mid-beat. He loomed over you, toes centimeters from your own, chest so close that you both would touch with a deep enough breath.

You scanned his body, heart pounding, palms sweating from the impending reality of your desire, and he smirked, leaning closer.

"I don't think I can allow another man to lay a fucking finger on you ever again..." he whispered. "I don't think that perfect fucking pussy can belong to anyone fucking else."

"Since when did it belong to you, Matty?" You shuddered, deciding to test him a bit. "I thought we were just casual-"

"You think anyone else could fuck you stupid like I do?" You could practically feel his fingernails digging into the wood beside your head, the anger building in his eyes. "How about your exes? How'd they fuck you, huh?"

Your throat tightened. "Mattheo-"

"Say it." He growled, leaning closer--so close your noses brushed. "You want me to make you fucking cum, princess? Say that little pussy is mine."

Gods, curse your fucking insatiable need to get fucked. At this point, you were fully cognizant of the fact that this man could make you say damned-near anything if it meant he'd get inside you. Swallowing your ego, you met his stare--as intense as it had ever felt--and licked your lips.

"It's yours, Matty..." you murmured. "It's all yours."

Mattheo Riddle smirked. "That's fucking right."

Unable to decide between indignant and patronized, you eschewed both, and instead opted to hook your fingers into his belt, pulling yourself into him while you boosted yourself on your tiptoes to meet his lips with your own. Your kiss was hungry and demanding as you sought to memorize his mouth with your tongue. Mattheo's large hands cupped your face, fingers delving into your hair while he pressed into you, forcing you back tighter against the door.

You groaned against his lips, writhing underneath him while you slid your tongue along his teeth, seeking to know every part of him, needing him to want you--to fucking need you like you needed him. Mattheo drew in a breath through his nose and pushed deeper, like he wanted to fuse you with the door, and your hands shot into his hair, a shiver running through you as you felt how soft, how luxurious it was between your fingers.

Another soft groan rumbled in your chest, and--having distant, fuzzy deja vu of the countless encounters prior--you wrapped the curly tendrils of his hair around your fingers and yanked it.

At that, a deep moan left his throat, and he pulled back, waves of harsh breath crashing over him. His blackened eyes darted across your face, switching between your lips and eyes. "Fucking naughty little thing..." he huffed, smirking.

"For you, always," you murmured, and he groaned, wetting his lips as he leaned closer.

"Fuck-that's right...I love it when you're bad...you only act this way for me, huh?" His voice was a low purr, warm breath crashing your face. "That why you didn't fuck him? That why you ran?"

Chewing your lip, you nodded, and tugged his hair again, bringing him to your mouth once more.

He smirked against you and his hands fell to your hips, roaming the swell of your curves before gripping the underside of your thighs and hiking you onto the door. Immediately, the aching length in his pants ground into your center while his tongue fought its way into your mouth. Without you having to think, your legs circled him, and your hips were grinding back, pursuing any friction and heat you could find.

You peeled away to catch a breath, hands resting in his hair, and his lips went to work on your neck, suckling and nibbling the skin there.

"Matty...please..." you murmured, already begging for something, anything. "I need you."

Snuffing a groan, Mattheos grip bruised your hips as he bucked into you, grinding you against the door.

"You want me to fuck you, slut?" he said, breath hot on your neck. "Didn't get enough of my cock last time?"

"No-fuck-I didn't," you mewled, a slight embarrassment washing over you. "It's never enough."

Mattheo growled, his grip hardening to iron, and he licked a warm, wet line along your pulse. "That's right...that's what I like to hear..."

Sinking his teeth into your neck, he pushed off the door, walking over toward his bed as he held you against his chest. You watched the door get further and further away, lust building and growing in your chest as he nipped your jawline before grazing his lips over yours again, softly and briefly as he reached the edge of his mattress and laid you back against it.

When you hit the bed, he kept his mouth on yours while his hands left your waist; fervent fingers finding the fabric of your button up blouse and untucking it from your skirt, cold hands slipping underneath and groping your tits through your bra--a deep groan leaving his chest as you bucked your hips up against his crotch; wanting him closer, needing him closer.

His hands slid back down, finding the hem of your skirt and flipping it up your stomach, wasting zero fucking time before he hooked his thumbs around the band of your thong and peeled them down your thighs. The minute you were exposed, you heard the clatter of his belt buckle hitting the floor, and your pussy throbbed.

"Matty..."

Mattheo chuckled, the weight of his stare resting on your naked pussy; wallowing in your clear desperation for him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So fucking wet." He released a long breath--he was testing his own patience, now. "This perfect body can't help but to crave me..."

You groaned as he teased your inner thigh with one hand, the other working to peel his shirt off his torso in one swift movement--exposing his hard, firm fucking abs and leaving him looming before you in just black briefs--looking as delicious and sexy as you've ever goddamn seen him.

As his long fingers ghosted over your folds, you arched, groaning when he brushed past it toward the inside of your other thigh; squirming in slight frustration, admittedly the teasing was absolutely getting to you now.

"Mattheo, I swear to-"

A firm, sharp smack to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh stopped the words in your throat; your stomach twisted as you watched Mattheo's eyes darken and lips curl sadistically.

"Is that how I taught you to ask for what you want?" He sneered, wetting his lips as he met your pleading eyes. "You know what I want to hear, princess."

You winced, swallowing your pride furthermore, until it was eroding in your stomach acid. "Please, Matty...please make me cum..."

His lips parted. "Good girl.”

His hum of approval was followed by the warm kiss of his fingertips along the sensitive lips of your pussy, feathersoft at first, and then one thick finger slipped between your folds, gliding between them, slicking itself with your wetness and grazing the swollen nub of your clit. That did it--blinded with relief, you cracked, moaning deep in your chest. Blood flushed your face, tingling your cheeks.

"You like that?" He brushed the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. "You like the way I touch you? The way that pretty pussy responds to me?"

"Yes...Gods, yes..." you replied, the sentence coming without thought.

"That's right..." his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed, fingers swirling around your clit in tight circles, and you gasped, your mouth dropping in bliss, your rapid panting filling the steamy air.

"Fuck you're so sexy, my dirty little whore in her short little uniform skirt..." a stifled groan cut through his throat, and you shot a glance at him; one hand rubbing his strained erection through his boxers. "It took everything I had not to bend you over the fucking desk in class all week...fuck you know how to test me..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Matty, fuck-please..."

"Please what?" He growled.

Gods, curse him--curse him to bloody hell. You couldn't fucking handle this anymore. You knew he was punishing you, making you fucking beg and shatter and cry for it after what you'd done; and the way his fingers stroked your clit had you spasming, jerking--so close to cumming, you just wanted him inside you.

"Please." You banished all pride and ego and fucking common sense to the perimeter of your mind. Asylum. Just this once. "Please, fuck me...please."

"Tell me I'm the only one." He hissed, slipping a finger inside your wet, throbbing core; your back arching off the mattress as his thumb increased its pace on your clit. "Tell me you'll never let another man put his fucking hands on what's mine."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. Your response was pieced together by the efforts of your need for release alone.

"Fuck-no, never, Matty...I'm yours...all fucking yours..."

He was staring at you, face blank, surveying you while you twitched and jerked underneath his ministrations. His focus switched between your pussy--desperately throbbing and melting against his touch--and your red, sweating face, jaw slack from your haze of pleasure. You chewed your lip--it was bruised by now, certainly--clenching hard, and he groaned, pulling his boxers down to let his thick, needy cock spring free.

"Cum for me, slut." He ordered. "Cum for me right fucking now."

As if controlled by a remote in his hands, a tidal wave of euphoria slammed into you, walls pulsing, body wracked with the convulsions of an aggressively pent up orgasm, vision whiting out as you threw your head back, a loud string of unintelligible curses flying from you. Mattheo hummed, hand working you to the end of your orgasm as his free one slowly stroked his cock, watching every tiny ministration of your face with an exasperated expression until he was certain you were past it.

And when he was, he wasted no fucking time before he gripped your ankles in his hands, staring down at you as he began to rock his hips; his hard, throbbing dick sliding between your slit.

"Tell me you want it," he purred. "Beg for it."

You groaned. "Please, I want it Matty…I want you so fucking bad."

With a goddamn suffocatingly arrogant and devilish grin, he braced himself as he sunk into your pussy; your wet walls swallowing his cock with ease as you let loose a long, satisfied moan--Mattheo sucked a breath in through his bared teeth as sheathed himself all the way inside your cunt, pausing there to feel you clench and adjust around him.

"So fuckin' tight..." he groaned, head bowing. "Fuck you feel so good around me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers finding Mattheo's hands until he gathered both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with just one of his, leaning over you to fuck you deep and hard as his free hand snuck down to your clit. Throttled cries of pleasure were leaking from you, your conscious slipping from reality as he pummelled your pussy like you deserved the pain.

"Fuck, yes," you practically screamed. "You fuck me so good Matty...so deep, fuck-" 

A deep snarl roared from Mattheo's chest, his grip on your wrists tightening while he fucked you deeper, harder, your body rocking from the power of his thrusts. You could feel his ragged breath on your face, knew without seeing him that he was above you, lips parted, pupils blown.

"Look at me," he growled. "Let me see those eyes as you fucking cum for me."

Groaning, you obeyed, lids fluttering open to meet his gaze. Mattheo was possessed, looking past you, through you, panting with every snap of his hips. You lost yourself in his stare, the rest of the room falling away, and his fingers moved faster over your clit, bringing you to that precipice once more. Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you imploded. Mattheo watched you, not even blinking once.

You thought you kept your eyes open, but you weren't sure, because you whited out, spasming and convulsing as your orgasm wracked your every cell, your every nerve, taking you to a height you'd never been to, never thought existed. Distantly, you were aware of your cunt drawing out Mattheo's climax as he cursed and dug his teeth into your shoulder, fucking you harder as he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You hadn't realized what had happened until your spirit returned to your body and you felt the burn of hot, wet tears streaming down your cheeks--evidence of your relief--followed by Mattheo collapsing on top of you, cock buried still inside your pussy, and both of you drank in lungfuls of air, starved for it, your brains fuzzy with the static of euphoria. You both laid there for a moment, rapt in the descent back to reality, until he pushed himself up and pulled out, holding you firmly in his stare again.

As he began to piece his clothes back together, you gathered your composure, pulling yourself up and off his bed, fixing yourself back to some form of decency. As you swallowed, watching Mattheo latch up his belt, he met your eyes again; the dark lust slowly fading, being replaced by an unspoken emotion you couldn't attempt to name.

"This isn't over." He breathed, moving back toward you. "We aren't over."

When your lungs hitched, you nodded, admitting to yourself that you already fucking knew you couldn't live without that. Without him.

"No," you whispered. "We aren't."

[dateko]

a/n: another rando drabble... twas hiding amidst the dust in my drafts... i will never get to see the four of these silly geese happy ever again and they only exist in my google docs where nothing bad ever happens to them...

“Sensei, what is Sensei to you?” Yuuji asks suddenly, causing Gojo to stop in his tracks.

“Huh? Me?”

This time, Nobara groans. “No, you blindfolded idiot! That Sensei!” 

Gojo follows his young student’s gaze as she tilts her chin towards the field where the second-years are training. 

There, standing beside the ever-adorable Panda, is you. You watch with a proud smile on your face as the second years spar with one another, calling out praises along with death threats coming from Maki. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the first years and their slender mentor watching you from the steps. Your lips fight to bite down a smile as you throw out a wave, watching Satoru lift his mask to wink at you.

“See! See! Like that!” Nobara starts again excitedly, pointing at her teacher. “What is that woman to you?”

“Eh?” Gojo raises an eyebrow before lowering his mask. “She’s… A close friend of mine.”

“Sensei, you’re being secretive.” Yuuji offers him a skeptical look, to which Nobara nods along with adamantly. “Fushiguro, what do you think?”

Megumi glances at your figure with a dragging sigh before walking in front of his classmates. “If you ask me, she’s the one.”

Thing 1 and Thing 2 erupt with rowdy exclamations, practically bouncing off their teacher. Megumi continues to walk with a somewhat satisfied expression. The boy’s known you his entire life. Especially how much you mean to his blue-eyed benefactor. 

“B-but how do you know she’s really the one?” Yuuji asks this time, fully invested in his teacher’s love life.

Gojo shrugs nonchalantly. “I have good eyes, you know.”

“Well, now I just feel sorry for her. She has to deal with you every day!” Nobara deflates immediately, unsure of how to feel knowing someone she respects is romantically affiliated with her headache-inducing instructor.

“Hey! It’s a blessing to deal with me!” 

A pair of footsteps sneak up behind the group. “Deal with who?”

With a hand on your hip, you stop to tilt your head at the pairs of wide eyes looking at you. Even beneath his mask, you can tell Satoru looks more than guilty. 

“Something on my face?” You pat a hand on your cheek, wondering why no one’s said anything to you. 

Nobara breaks the silence by walking up to you with her head down, a downcast expression on her face. “Sensei… I’m so sorry for you…”

Confused and admittedly very concerned, you shoot Gojo a look before patting Nobara���s head reassuringly. And your lover holds a sheepish expression as he holds his hands clasped behind his back, an old habit he used to do when he knew he was in the wrong. 

“Alright, I might as well just say it,” Gojo starts, fixing the collar of his jacket. “I told them about us.”

Your eye widen at his words, lips sputtering for a normal response. “You told them we’re married?”

“Wait, married?! Meeting each other with good feelings is one thing, but married… Sensei, I thought you were better than this…" Nobara shakes her head dramatically before walking off, flashing you a disapproving look before dragging Yuuji along with her.

You watch the younger student walk off with a confused brow before returning to face your lover, who is grinning wildly at you. He's clearly over feeling guilty about exposing your little secret. Your questionable silence comes to Gojo as a queue to pull you into a loving embrace, a quiet apology for blowing your cover.

Without skipping a beat, you return the hug, giving up on trying to scold him. You squeak when Gojo rocks the two of you back and forth, pressing never-ending kisses on your jaw. “Just an FYI, Megumi was the one who told them.” He mutters, nose pressing itself into the crook of your neck.

You gasp, holding his face while you step back to look at him. “He wouldn’t do such a thing!”

“He said that you were the one.”

“Isn’t that what you said?”

“Shut up.”

You let out a giggle, a sound Gojo could listen to for hours on repeat. “You used to be so corny when we dated. Still now.”

“I don't think I could ever stop being corny. Only when it comes to you.”

[fleurmiss]

ೃ⁀➷ one love, two mouths

- ,, ao’nung x fem reader

- ,, being bestfriends with aonung ever since you gained consciousness was pleasant, but comes with a side of flirting and realizations you want to be more than just friends, or bestfriends.

- ,, warnings - SUGGESTIVE! adults watch out this is a teenager ur reading abt. minors pls be careful if u dont like making out!! ao’nung is a btch but not to u, tanhì is na’vi for “star, bioluminescent freckle”, simp ao’nung yasss thats like all my characters lol gunna ignore that!!

ps : tanhì is not readers name lol, just a nickname that ao’nung gave her!!!

-‘๑’- sweater weather - the neighborhood

Ao’nung was mean, you’ve seen how quick he is to bite back and claw at any opportunity that gives him a moment of glory against his rivals, plenty of times.

Ao’nung is mean to everyone, everyone but you, and his family, and maybe Roxto.

Excluding those people, ao’nung has never tried to purposefully hurt your feelings, maybe in a moment of childish banter, he has said mean things that are fleeting, they go away as quickly as they come because he sees the look on your face, and says sorry with a heavy heart.

Some days he is not as apologetic, and delays his apologies until a day or two, you walk away with hurt, anger, and hesitation but he always comes to u, can’t bare being away from you, his girl.

You are sitting on the sand, knees up to your chest as you gaze upon the sea, muscles sore from swimming all day. You almost fall asleep as the peaceful sound of the waves lulls you but alas, your one and only makes his presence known with his loud greeting.

“My tanhì, you look a little lonely!” ao’nung chuckles and sits down beside you, right beside you. No literally, he’s so close that your arm and leg are touching his. Why’s he so close? There’s literally so much space? You’ve stopped questioning it, he’s been touchy with you since forever.

He ruffles the top of your head affectionately, the little smile on his face tells you he’s in a good mood. “hi ao’nung” you say softly and give him a sweet smile, god he almost just melted at the spot, “you seem happy today”

“i am” he replies shortly and you lay your head on his shoulder, letting out a satisfied sigh at finally seeing your favorite person.

his hand finds it’s way to your leg and he gives you a prompt squeeze on your thigh, affection came as naturally as breathing to him when it was with you.

Your eyes roam around the sea as you look at the people smiling with their ilu’s and splashing around in the water, you catch a glimpse of a group of 4 girls as you shudder with the piercing look they give you. You recognize those girls as Tsireya’s friends, remembering her telling you about her dislike for a lot of their decisions. She told you to avoid them, they’re no good.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion when you see the said girls make their way to you and ao’nung, probably only having matters that deal with ao’nung, you’re pretty sure they’ll ignore your whole existence if anything.

You being this close to The Olo’Eyktan’s only son ignites some sort of resentment in them, automatically making you their competition and viewing you as a threat.

“bruh not these chicks again” ao’nung mutters quietly in irritation and lets out a groan into your hair, hoping they’ll go away if he can’t see them. You giggle but your smile is gone as soon as the girls stop right in-front of your bestfriend. “Ao’nung!! We we’re gonna go take a swim with our ilu’s, I think you should join us! Im sure sitting here watching the ocean isn’t that interesting” the girl’s giggle thinking Ao’nung will get up and follow them without a word.

For a second you believed so too, what you were doing wasn’t that fun, but you didn’t want fun, you wanted calm.

“fuck no” you hear pure distaste in ao’nung’s voice, it makes you cringe, the second hand embarrassment of straight rejection in the face. You smile, he’s really showing no interest in these girls, you almost feel bad, but whats it to you?

“oh- well- you can- you can always come join us later or whatever, whenever y/n lets you go” you’re a bit offended, you aren’t holding ao’nung back from anything, especially these girls, any choice he makes is solely his decision.

“nah im good i prefer y/n anyways”

“whatever” the girls huff and puff and stomp off the space you guys we’re currently sitting at

“bit mean, don’t u think”

“i don’t care” you smile at his quick response

“i think a lot of people dislike our friendship ao’nung, you’re the next Olo’Eyktan and they think i’m competition. They can’t let me ruin their chances of becoming Tsahik.”

“tanhì, what are you even saying?”

“i just.. what i mean is.. you’re almost ready to find a mate, and you must choose wisely, as your choice will be the next Tsahik for our clan, she must work with you as one, and i feel like i’m holding you back from finding a good mate”

Ao’nung pays attention to you, listening to your worries with furrowed brows, he’s so good to you, always. It makes your heart squeeze when you think of him being this affectionate with any other girl, you’re selfish, you want him to yourself.

As much as this hurts, you will be open with him, but you will not open your heart to him as of now. You sigh, he grabs your hand and his thumb rubs soothing circles, telling you to continue.

“i think.. i think re’yal is a beautiful girl, her parents are talented and she takes after them-“ you are cut off.

“i couldn’t care less for re’yal” you tilt your head in confusion

“na’yi is a good healer”

“she is a good healer.”

Ah. It’s Na’yi that he’s chosen then. You look up at him, unable to stop your head from moving. He smiles. Ouch.

“i have the stupidest girl sitting in front of me right now” you hit him gently in the chest, he catches your hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.

Woah. You’ve held hands multiple times but not this way. It feels different. You’re almost about to throw up.

Your eyes quickly drop down to his lips, god, you pray to Ewya that he doesn’t notice.

He does notice, and he thinks you’re so cute he could make-out with you right now.

“she’s so stupid but she’s also the prettiest, she’s really cute too, i think she’d make a great tsahik” you’re embarrassed now, what does this mean? why’s he such a jerk?

“i don’t think Na’yi wo-“

“tanhì, i don’t care about Na’yi, i do not want her.”

“Ao’nung.. allow me to help you, you cannot delay this anymore”

“y/n you just don’t get the hint do you?”

“what?”

Ao’nung groans frustrated, he looks around to see if anyone is watching, what he’s about to do right now might cause issues, he can’t find himself to care any longer though.

Ao’nung cranes his head enough so his lips are an inch away from yours, he looks at you with lidded eyes and you’re already looking at him

“let me kiss you” he asks and you don’t wait, you nod and he smashes his soft lips against yours, desperately. You’ve been wanting to do this, been wanting to kiss your bestfriend.

He grabs the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, damn, he’s a good kisser. Not that you’ve kissed anyone else before, but he’s making you feel really good.

It’s fast, and you both are desperate, impatient, and incredibly in love. He grabs your waist to pull you closer and you whine into the kiss. Sweet. He’s never loved a sound more. His confession comes between kisses.

“y/n, i want you,” kiss. “and only you.” kiss.

you pull away and you’re breathing heavily, you look at ao’nung, pretty sure your eyes have hearts in them. “i-“ you don’t know what to say.

“I see you” you whisper, only meant for him to hear, with sincere eyes.

Ao’nung looks at you and his lips twitch into a small smile.

He goes into kiss you again and your hands find their way behind his neck, he pulls back and trails a few kisses from your jaw to your neck, you gasp softly when he finds your sensitive spot and sucks on it, sinking his teeth into your soft skin, you’re so sure this is gonna leave a bruise.

He kisses you again but this time openmouthed, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip to ask for permission, you open your mouth more to let him in. “i love you so much” he whimpers into your mouth and you realize you wanna get out of here. Your feel yourself getting embarrassed as you realize the 4 girls probably saw your full on makeout session.

“what’s wrong baby?”

“lets get out of here ao’nung” you plead, doe eyes looking up at your lover. God, you make him crazy.

He takes your hand and leads you to his marui pod, you guys pass the 4 girls on your way there and by the look they’re giving you, you know they saw it, maybe even enjoyed it a bit. (jk) The girl’s eyes travel down to your neck where your fresh hickey lies and they immediately turn their backs around, unable to watch your love bloom any longer.

You laugh loudly and that causes ao’nung to turn around, your hands still intertwined as you giggle, ao’nung gets the hint on what you’re laughing at and smirks as he watches you, amused.

“bit mean, don’t you think?” he mocks you and you slap his arm, he throws that arm over your shoulder as you guys walk , the sound of your laugh rings in ao’nungs ears and he swears he’ll never love someone like he loves you.

[yoursweetwife]

You entered my sinful life, just don’t leave

warning: female reader, soft Aventurine, Aventurine is called Kakavasha, fluff, kissing, mention of Topaz, slightly suggestive at the end. bad english

P.s I wrote this fanfic before the official art from Hoyo appeared, after that I left it in drafts, since too many stories about this started to appear. Anyway, this is just a cute story before this wonderful man's banner comes out :D

My requests are open!

Aventurine was in no hurry to open his eyes when he woke up. He continued to lie on the large bed, wrapped in soft sheets and enjoying the rays of the sun warming his pale skin.

Out of habit, his right hand ran along the now empty side of the bed. He shivered slightly because of the cold, as if this place had been empty for a long time. Aventurine frowned and gripped the sheets tightly, suddenly a wave of doubt washed over the young man. Was this a dream? However, he calmed down when he heard quiet footsteps approaching the place where he lay.

He tried to hide the smile that threatened to appear on his face when a warm palm touched his cheek. Thin fingers first ran along the skin at the base of the hair, removing yellow strands from the face, then slowly went down along the cheekbone, nose, eyelids, lips…

"I know you're awake, Kakavasha."

A soft voice brought Aventurine out of his sleepy state. Disappointment quickly gave way to a feeling of warmth in my soul. He liked it so much when you called him by his real name, it made him understand that in this terrible unfair world there is a person who cares about him.

Aventurine covered your hand with his own, not allowing you to remove it, and smiled maliciously.

"I wonder how I gave myself away?"

The quiet laugh that left your mouth blessed the player's ears. You adjusted Aventurine's shirt on your body. In his house, this is practically your only clothing, even if you have a lot of your own things here, considering that you often spend the night with him. But by the way the blond stares at you, especially after a shower, you can understand that he loves it when you do this.

"The smile on your whole face gave you away. Shouldn't a poker player be able to not show emotions?"

Aventurine chuckled cheerfully. As a person who intrigues with his incomprehensible behavior, he really cannot control himself around his lover.

“It’s hard not to smile knowing that I got this treasure.”

Aventurine ran his hand over your collarbone, a slight shiver running through your body as his cold fingers touched your soft skin. His long fingers rested on a necklace of aventurine, his birthstone. This is exactly what he gave you in the third year of friendship, it’s surprising that you kept it for so long.

"You're making me blush again. Better get up before I call Topaz."

It was funny to see how Aventurine's face turned sour at the mention of Topaz. Unfortunately, your threats were not a bluff. Angry Topaz is not the most pleasant company, especially in the morning. The blond threw his head back on the pillow and sighed offendedly.

"Okay, okay. I'll get up, but only after the kiss."

You sighed in annoyance and lightly hit his bare chest. It's so hard to say no to those puppy dog ​​eyes.

"Just one kiss."

You ignored the blonde's happy sigh and began to slowly lean towards his face. Your soft lips touched him and Aventurine could not stop the satisfied smile spreading across his face.

He gently cupped your cheek with his palm to deepen the kiss, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, Aventurine pouring all the love and passion even into such innocent kisses. You pulled away from his lips. A quiet chuckle escaped your lips as the player reached for your lips with a pitiful moan.

"Satisfied?"

"Mmm no."

Suddenly, Aventurine grabbed you by the waist and threw you onto the soft sheets. With a loud squeal, your head landed on the soft pillow, Aventurine's strong arms pinning your arms to the sides of your head, preventing you from escaping. A smug smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your red face.

"K-Kakavasha, you're a liar, I can't believe I fell for it again."

Aventurina laughed quietly and brought his face closer to yours, without looking away from your beautiful eyes.

“And you will fall into this trap more than once, sweetie. We both know that you cannot refuse me.”

His left hand moved closer to your face to brush away stray strands. Your heart beat loudly against your chest; not everyone can see his gentle expression on his face. This showed the trust that Kakavasha had in you.

You chuckled and completely relaxed your body.

"I don't think anything will happen if we're a couple of hours late."

[volttrashz]

𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

ꜱᴜʙ!ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ!ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ ʜᴀʀᴀ x ᴛᴏᴘ!ᴍᴀʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

cw: ᴘᴇʀᴠᴇʀᴛ ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ. ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ. ᴘɪʟʟᴏᴡ ʜᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ. ꜱᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ. ʙᴏxᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ. ɴꜱꜰᴡ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ(ꜱ) ᴏꜰ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ.

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴏʙꜱᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡʙɪᴇ ᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴏʙ.

Miguel didn't understand what all the hype was about. A new person to join Alchemax..so what?Everywhere he turned it seemed like somebody was talking about you. It was until he had stumbled upon you himself that he finally understood why everyone couldn't seem to keep your name out of their mouths.

"Oh sh- Sorry, I didn't see you there..let me help you."

Miguel watches you pick up his paperwork off the ground, which he dropped when you both collide with one another. He watches you calloused hands arrange the paperwork carefully. Your mouth is moving so you must be saying something but he doesn't hear a single word. He finally snaps out of his trance when you stand up.

You're attractive no doubt. He can't help but stare a little as you reach out your hand and introduce yourself. Your voice is soothing. He likes how your hand is slightly bigger than his when finally but hesitantly shakes it. When you ask for his name he tells you. Watching you test it coming out of your mouth.

"It's nice to meet you Miguel O'Hara, I'm sure we will get along just fine."

Miguel watched you walk away. Not even realizing that you had placed his once dropped papers into his hands. He scoffed. You were annoying. He didn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with you.

Or did he?

Miguel's tiny little obsession started noticing such little things about you.

How you would lick and bite your lip if you were slightly frustrated with the work you were doing. Or how clean you would keep your area no matter what it was you were doing. The certain cologne that you would wear everyday, that always seemed to be pulling him closer to you.

Why were you everywhere?! Sure you guys had the same job so seeing each other was bound to happen, but this was unusual. Were you following him? Or was he following you.

When Miguel finally began to start talking to you, he couldn't help but stutter. It wasn't his fault! He struggles talking to beautiful people such as yourself.

It took some time, but it wasn't long before Miguel was always trying to talk to you all time. Everywhere. It didn't matter where you were, he was there too. Bathroom? Oh he's just there to wash his hands too! On your lunch break? Oh he's on his too.

In fact. He was on his way too the staff cafeteria to join you, wanting to know if you wanted to go out for lunch. His smile quickly swept off his face when he sees you chatting with one of your colleagues. You look happy. Too happy. How come you don't look that happy when he's with you? You shouldn't be smiling or laughing that much. Were they telling you something funny? He wanted to laugh too.

He's pleased to see that you aren't laughing anymore when you hear about the recent passing and murder of your guy's dear coworker.

Miguel doesn't think he has a problem. Sure he "accidentally" hit someone with his car because he was a little jealous...I mean it really was an accident. It just happened to be them

Miguel doesn't think it's a problem that he started sneaking into your home just to get a sniff of your musk in your boxers..clean or dirty. He felt disgusting for doing such a thing but he couldn't help it! It always sent shiver down his spine.

Miguel doesn't think it's a problem that he will some times occasionally got into your bedroom just for the purpose of humping your pillow while he muffles his moans

"[name], oh [name] mmmgfh oh fuck."

Miguel doesn't think it's a problem that he found out your address and started stalking you through your window every night. Especially loving the nights where you would happen to be jacking off. But never seemed to be satisfied with the release you would get.

Miguel doesn't think it's a problem that everyone has been avoiding you just because of him. Scared of the anonymous threats they would get if they were getting too close to you. Why would you need anyone if you have him?

Miguel doesn't think it's a problem that he takes advantage of the fact you have nobody to comfort you. Leaving subtle touches. Whispering sweet words in your ear to tell you how he is always here for you.

Miguel begins to notice how stressed you've become while working. Noticing how little things or mistake would tic you off. Like the caring person he is he comes to comfort you. By sucking you off under your desk of course.

"Mmmm. fuck, just like that Miguel..oh god-"

And if your groans just don't go straight to his cock, feeling it throb under his pants. Lowering his hands to his hard on, rubbing himself while he moans around your thick cock. Loving how your hand went behind his head to push him further.

He just wants you all to himself. He's yours and you are his.

This was way longer than I intended. But I couldn't help my self. I didn't grammar check...maybe I will later.

[yzzart]

Could you do a piece where snow forced reader to dress more conservatively and change her hair (cut and style) compared to her normal look and clothing?

"𝐀𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞."

pairing: president!Coriolanus Snow x f!reader.

summary: Coriolanus didn't just change him but he also changed you.

warnings: mentions of unhappiness, explicit words + take a look at the masterlist!

word count: 1.024!

notes: here it is, anon! and i think it was too long 😖 but i'm satisfied with this work, enjoy it and i hope you like it!

The one in the mirror, truly you?

That question, a confused inquiry, had compromised itself in your mind; with no intention of simply disappearing and leaving you alone. — A lump of embarrassment and imposition formed in your throat.

The image of a woman wearing cautious, at one point even intimidating, and, extremely, expensive clothes was trapped in the huge mirror. — The fabric of the white pigmented dress was very well prepared and dedicated, accompanied by some divine pearls; it would be cruel to touch them. — Jewels around her neck, giving her an air of purity and elegance.

Her posture was honorable, drawing attention from discreet and daring glances; a lucky woman who everyone wanted to get their hands on. — Being the reason for fights and threats between compromised souls.

That wasn't you, but at the same time it was. — That conservative, intimidating style would never be used by you on a casual day or for your good will; your chest would never feel comfortable in such a garment. — You would never feel comfortable with that whole situation.

However, your loved one admired that change in you. — Such a drastic, sudden and radical change that Coriolanus brought to his life; which he dedicated with love and care.

Coriolanus changed everything in his chest, and perhaps even in his soul, throwing that poor, rotten carcass somewhere no one would find it. — And when he saw the chance to change you, you sweet, naive girl, Snow wouldn't let it fall through his fingers.

All the best articles of clothing in the Capital were in your hands, gifted by Coriolanus. — It didn't matter the price, if countless hands were spent producing that fabric, he wanted to see you using it; independent of all. — And you made a point of making him satisfied, happy.

Even though you hated with all your strength, which was so fragile and delicate, that image that was beginning to be built in you; thinking deeply about your old image, about how you really were. — Your chest was tearing, burning and wanting to destroy every bit of that glass that witnessed his current reflection.

But, Coriolanus loved you that way. — He was so pleased.

"Here you are!" — Upon being mentioned, mentally, Coriolanus's voice echoed through the modest and cold room; coincidentally, like him. — Making your thoughts disappear, as if they never existed and didn't bother you.

Wanting to see him, you directed your head towards the door and came across those deep, vigorous eyes, which were once dreamy, staring at you. — The expression of pride formed on Coriolanus's fascinating face; a face that you are sure was carved by blessed souls.

Coriolanus admired you, agreeing how that dress, personally chosen by him, hugged your body in an exquisite way; you were perfect. — If he had the opportunity, even though he has and could snub her, Coriolanus would keep you for his eyes only.

And that spark of thought, an idea began to sink into the head of the boy, or rather, the man Snow every day, minute and second.

"My beautiful girl." — Coriolanus directed his steps towards you, causing some noises on the floor coming from his shiny and expensive shoes; shoes worth half the lives of the Panem. — "So beautiful…"

"Thank you, Coryo." — A thank you in such a fragile voice, almost coming out as a whisper; deep down, you didn't want to thank him for that compliment because you felt like it wasn't really meant for you.

Now the presence of Coriolanus was behind you and joining the mirror; the difference in height drew so much attention, giving you butterflies in your stomach. — You couldn't justify whether it was the excitement of seeing him or the intimidating feeling he showed, but you didn't deny the happiness that grew in your chest. — He was there with you.

Well, a different reflection of the Coriolanus you knew but he was there.

Without saying anything or even sighing, Coriolanus passed his arms covered by the long-sleeved white t-shirt, which was very reminiscent of his dear father's, around your waist; his hands passed over the slightly rough but comfortable fabric of the dress. — There was nothing comfortable about that dress for you. — Distributing a simple squeeze, a sign of wanting your attention, in the region.

For a second, you held your breath, not knowing the reason for this action, and your eyes focused on the mirror. — Coriolanus' head resting on your shoulder, his lips forming a convinced and enchanted smile before you; equal to a man when building a work with perfection and a lot of dedication.

"That dress looks perfect on you." — His dangerous and arrogant lips left long kisses on your neck and areas close to your shoulder; it tickled, it didn't bother you, and it let silent grunts escape your mouth. — "Don't you agree, my dear?" — Coriolanus wanted to elicit a specifically positive and obedient response from you.

At that very moment, and for the first time that morning, Snow didn't get what he wanted. — No words came out of your mouth, just a miserable sigh; still feeling his kisses on your sensitive part of your body.

"Answer me." — He interrupted the sealing session with his authoritative voice, a tone of voice that he began to present in recent times; Coriolanus listened and watched you swallow hard. — "Or are you not satisfied with everything i have done and given you?" — He was bitter and so cruel at the same time with those words.

and God, that's not what you were thinking.

"No, Coryo!" — Was it a scream? You didn't even realize that you had let out a very loud tone of voice. — "No, no." — Shaking your head quickly and disagreeing with the fallacies your lover uttered, you tried to calm the situation. — "That dress was great, i loved it."

Now, a nervous and distressed smile formed on your beautiful and stubborn lips against Coriolanus' venomous and superb smile. — He had you in his cold, rich hands, he had you in the cage like a little bird crying for freedom. — He had you.

"You don't know how happy i'm about this, my love."

[skeletonsloverockcandy]

One thing I’m seeing on this re-read of Dracula Daily that I’m already really enjoying, it’s all the little details we didn’t catch before

When we first started we didn’t know who Jonathan Harker was and to us he was just a silly little British man who was ignoring the obvious warning signs, so there was a comedic element to the dramatic irony of him going to Castle Dracula

But now that we know who Jonathan is and we care about him, it hits much harder all the subtle horror elements we missed while focusing on this good friend telling us about his travels

From the first entry, people picking up on the dog barking under his window and being like “is that Dracula? Does it start this early?” Being skeeved out by Dracula’s overly familiar letter to Jonathan, which at first seemed perfectly reasonable except for the name attached at the end, and picking up on all the terrible foreshadowing for what will be Jonathan’s living hell over the next month in his Castle.

And people this time picking up on the bravery of the wife of the innkeeper who gave him a crucifix, begging him to stay or wait, to not go to the castle, of the terror of knowing that Dracula was in correspondence with her husband to get the letter to Jonathan and the sort of subtle threat they must be under at all times, of the significance of “for your mother’s sake” knowing what Dracula does to children. She is no longer perceived as a random background character, but an active player forced to be a bystander who is trying desperately to help this ignorant soul in any way she can even if she knows it might be useless.

I love people realizing Jonathan is skeptical and off-put, but not enough to deter his mission. He’s not oblivious, just making an effort to remain open-minded to the culture and superstitions and beliefs he is not familiar with, since he’s aware it will be wildly different from his own (to the best of his ability for being an Englishman from the 1890s) and pointedly dismissing the things that might be red flags as an attempt to rationalize because nothing truly concerning has happened yet to provoke him to leave, and he doesn’t want to be deterred by something he’s getting worked up for for no reason yet, he couldn’t do his job otherwise and people are depending on him

Idk, I just like this deeper analysis and thought now that people are already familiar and attached to his character, and now know what happens, so they can properly point out when something is foreshadowing later events or themes in the novel, and they can pick up on it quicker

Even something as simple as people noticing the other meals mentioned in the first entry because of all the focus on Paprika Hendl last year makes me happy :)

I like that they are giving our protagonist more credit now, knowing the character he turns into later in the novel (a badass)

It is satisfying :)))

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Simon is sad.

Ice King is a joke.

Winter King is a threat.

So, I kinda love how much further we explore into the differences between Simon and Ice King and all the parts in between.

With the Crown, Simon's personality gets injected with boundless, reckless, thoughtless confidence - which appears to have its roots in Evergreen or specifically, Gunter's perception of Evergreen.

However, Simon also infused the Crown's influence with his weird quirks, his desperation for love, and his immeasurable grief.

In a different post, I wrote that the root of the Crown's curse latched onto Simon's love, which in its own way is his grief as well. These powerful emotions were decentralized so that even if Ice King couldn't quite understand the source of them, he felt them hard. And moreover, these emotions clouded his capacity to function.

So aaaaaall that infinite confidence tempered and sabotaged by Simon's sorrow, making Ice King into a joke. Oh, sure he's manipulative liar like the way he lied to Finn when he was trapped in the spirit world. But he's quite incompetent.

His intentions aren't any less selfish or destructive but he's just So Bad at the follow through. Absolutely dysfunctional. That makes him easier to laugh at even when he's doing stuff like slapping tape on PB's mouth as she's sleeping because he "breaks up with her" in the next minute.

Winter King wouldn't need tape. That's the difference. Winter King is frightening because he can in fact follow through on all of his selfish and destructive impulses. When he lies, he can get away with it because he's a *good liar*. He's charming without being sad. He's confident without being annoying.

Winter King has Evergreen's strengths and Simon's charisma and wields it with deadly intent because he also lacks Simon's conscience and Simon's fixation on love and connection - true love and connection that isn't something he made in a lab. The fact that Winter King can be satisfied with hollow dolls that resemble his loved ones is TELLING.

Winter King and Ice King are fundamentally separated by their levels of lucidity and competence. And that's pretty much it. Even Winter King's memories remain frosted over and nothing like the original Simon Petrikov's

Which leads me to the original Simon Petrikov. I truly enjoyed the way Simon is differentiated from Ice King and Winter King simply by showing his compassion - which both lacked. Simon immediately plead for Bubblegum's life whereas Winter King was like Nope.

That was so good. Just emphasizing how the Simon and Ice King aren't a 1 to 1 reflection or transformation. Or in other words, that Ice King is not entirely Simon and Simon isn't entirely Ice King.

Also the subtext of Simon secretly resenting Winter King, being unsure if he wanted to be just like this weirdo who just goes around calling himself radical. This chuunibyou motherfucker. He really wants to be that? Really?

But again! Simon's vindication at learning that the Crown can't be fought! Because also fighting is such hardwork and he spent a thousand or so years trying to do it, failing to do it. The way he almost whined at the Winter King, "but it's just so hard to fight the Crown", and he's just so tired. He's just too sad.

In the same way that Fionna wanted an easy, fun, no consequences adventure - Simon wants an easy, quiet, no consequences solution to all his depression. Simon doesn't want to be happy because happiness takes hardwork. All the shit that the Winter (Willpower) King was shilling? That's a lot of elbow grease.

Simon just wants to opt out of existence. Let the Crown take the wheel. He's done driving.

But therein lies... his curse. Winter King is euphoric because it came at the cost of the compassion that defines Simon Petrikov. Love and compassion is at the root of Simon's sorrow, but it's also the thing that keeps him here. Because Simon simply can't *not* help someone - even Fionna who has been a straight up dick to him this whole time.

Simon thinks that there's a "right way" to be cursed because he's holding onto the belief that he could stop existing and not hurt or harm anyone by choosing to do so. And this will keep him on the search. This will keep him as himself for another sad and hurting day, until he can find a way to run - flee without hurting anyone.

Spoiler: It's impossible.

[bakugoushotwife]

happy birthday bakugou!! // k. bakugou x fem! reader (selfship tbh)

warnings: very self indulgent, pregnancy, reader is a woman and mother already, bakufamily hehe <3

the tug on the covers is what wakes him. he’s always been a light sleeper, trained for years to detect any threat, even when he’s supposed to be at rest. maybe he’s a little less concerned about the random noises he hears around his house nowadays; primed from years of marriage to the clumsiest woman alive–and fatherhood to the clumsiest children. another tug. though he had hoped to sleep in today of all days. he took a personal day from the agency just to relax, cuddle up to his wife, maybe have a late brunch with the kids. the perfect day of rest for a busy man like him. 

he peeps an eye open to see if you’re laying in your spot. tch, hag. he rolls his closed eyes and decides to turn over; he could probably go back to sleep. another tug. 

“daddy!” bakugou’s little daughter huffs, patience clearly run out by that inherited scowl tugging on her features. complete with a stomp and all, natsuki pulls again. he loves his kids, cherishes being a father, but please. he just wants a minute longer. is that so much to ask on his birthday?

“nats, go get yer ma or come lay down.” he grumbles in the groggy morning voice you love to hear so much. your mini me happily obliges, giggling as she scales her way up onto the bed. she’s only five, and is absolutely her father’s biggest fan. he’s especially soft for his first born, and his precious little princess–hearing her laughter sheds the grump right off of him, heart melting a little as she sneaks under a heavy arm to lay next to him. “where is yer ma anyway?” he pouts, making her poke at the deep frown. 

“shhh, can’ tell you!! i distract.” she nods. oh how she possesses your grace. that makes him snort, and he already knows you have to be scheming something for today’s ‘holiday’, as you would call it. and his son is being held captive to be an accomplice to such a crime. you know he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it. he hates that kind of attention and would much rather spend his time cuddling with his wife all day than sitting at some restaurant accepting gifts from his friends. he nearly has everything a man could ever ask for, a beautiful wife, healthy and gorgeous children–though he could tack on a few more there–the perfect home, a great and satisfying career…the list goes on. it took years to get to this place of peace. so, he really doesn’t want anything for his birthday this year. other than your ass back in bed of course. 

“oh yeah? she told ya to do that?” he blinks sleepy eyes open, meeting ones of a matching hue staring up at him. she nods. “what’s yer brother doin’?” he knows it’s a trap, but hey. you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 

“helpin’ mama make ‘cakes n bacon!” she reveals proudly, eyes growing wide when she realizes she’s betrayed her mission. she claps a hand over her mouth and huffs at him. “mama tryin’ to be nice.” 

“ain’t she? let’s go help her.” he chuckles a little bit, sliding out of bed with her on his hip. his sweatpants hang low, but he won’t take the time to change right now. his hair is tousled from sleep, but as always he’s effortlessly and ruggedly handsome in a way that will never cease to make you weak in the knees. natsuki holds onto her father’s shoulder as he softly pads down the stairs, ready to foil your surprise. he holds his finger over his lips, nodding at his little girl. she mirrors the action, swearing to be silent. he peeks around the corner, this sight bringing a gentle smile to his face. maturing and loving and having a family had simmered him down a bit, but he never lost his spark. he always knows how to balance it though, and as badly as he wants to jump around the wall and catch you—laugh that you thought you could be so sneaky; he doesn’t. you’re holding your two year old son in a similar way to his carry on natsuki, dancing around the kitchen to keep him from fussing while you plate up his favorite strawberry banana pancakes, a signature you introduced him to. you dollop out whipped cream that katsuo promptly puts his hands into, making you laugh softly and shake your head. you stick some candles into the pancakes and that’s when it really gets him. 

so much care and laborious love poured into this, he can’t rob you of such a simple gift to him. natsuki pats his shoulder, pointing to the living room as you fix up the smudged whipped cream and fix your children’s plates. he sees that you’ve turned it into a massive pillow fortress, blankets and string lights and the tv tucked under it all so you could lounge about all day. the family cat perched comfortably on one of the fluffiest blankets, and blame fatherhood, he feels the sting of emotion behind his eyes. it’s perfect. it’s a gift he wouldn’t have even picked for himself–it nearly makes him laugh. you would find a way to go and do something for him anyway–even when he swears he just wants to lay around the house all day. he says that and you go and give him domestic bliss. 

you walk around the corner with his plate in hand, katsuo in the other, prepared to creep upstairs and wake your sleeping husband up for breakfast in bed. then you’d rouse him to come downstairs to the massive movie theater pillow fort you built. but meh—it seems your plans were mere…outlines. your smile droops, but then replaces itself upon noticing just how shocked and happy katsuki really was. he loathes surprises, and no—you would not drag the man out for birthday dinners or even a private date for you two. he’d much rather cook for you and the kids anyway. you know that. you know him better than you know yourself. but you would be damned if a year went by where you didn’t celebrate him. and yeah–you shoulda sent the kid that can’t make complete sentences yet. 

“this is real nice, princess.” he hums, turning to face you and letting you glimpse at your regretful daughter. 

“sorry mama..” she pouts, making you chuckle softly. there wasn’t much of a chance to get away with this anyway–it’s not her fault. 

“aw, it’s okay baby. now we can just sing happy birthday to daddy in the fort!” you grin, nodding at him to get comfortable inside. he smiles warmly, because that’s all he feels. complete and utter warmth from head to toe. he leans forward and kisses your forehead, taking katsuo out of your arms and taking the kids to nestle comfortably in the pillow seating arrangements you crafted. it is an incredible arrangement by the way. he’s sure it took you hours. he feels that signature tightness in his chest–the overwhelming love he has for you is sometimes a physical phenomenon. katsuo crawls over the pillows to tuck himself into a fluffy corner close to his sister, clapping his hands together in anticipation of the pancakes he saw his mom whipping up earlier. you duck under the entrance sheet and grin brightly—an expression he knows and loves. you’re proud of yourself, and you should be. you drop to your knees, hitting the fluffy couch cushions and fluffy down blankets. you scoot forward on them and then sit back, displaying your beautiful pancake creations. 

you nod to the kids who join you in a beautiful–albeit choppy–rendition of the happy birthday tune, and he beams all the while. his heart may genuinely burst from his chest though.  the greatest gift he ever got was truly his wife–and you’ve given him two more. he leans up to blow out the candles, leaning up yet again to steal a kiss from you before he takes the plate from you entirely. “thank ya, lil squirt. and m’littler squirts.” he ruffles natsuki’s hair, getting into the breakfast as you double back for everything else. the love in his eyes, the intensity that he always carries—it’s a gift in itself to you. you’re gonna watch shitty tv all day with your kids, being lazy and awful as you snack around all day. you call it a taurus’ paradise. of course you sneak your final gift in too, snagging it from the counter. 

he holds his arm out for you, chewing animatedly and nodding to show you his excitement. you lean into his hold and nestle close, putting a show on for your kids. they have limited tv time please don’t even start. “happy birthday, my love.” you hum again, kissing his cheek. 

“you spoil me, gorgeous.” he smiles at you, all soft and tender to give you butterflies. he tucks his hand into the dip of your waist and starts feeding you your food like it’s your birthday. he does that a lot. you think he gets nearly uncomfortable at being spoiled–or at least wants to include you in the feeling he has. it’s adorable either way. 

“you deserve it. you work so hard, you’re such a good dad and husband for me…i want to give you everything.” you chuckle softly, laying your head on his shoulder, hugging around his bicep. 

“woman, look at those kids an’ yerself an’ say that again.” he says, the pinnacle of affection despite his way of speaking. “ya gave me everythin’.” 

“nuh uhhh,” you giggle, digging in your pocket. “not everything. got something else for ya.” you place it in his hands—the only other thing he’d ever want: a positive pregnancy test. “one step closer to—what did you call it? bakugou total world domination?”

he sets his plate to the side and pulls you into his lap, clutching you close, chuckling a bit. “yer kiddin’! he nuzzles his face into your neck and sighs happily. “i love you.” he hums softly, shaking his head, “this gotta be the best birthday ever..” he adds, and he means it wholeheartedly. gone were the days of war and daily sacrifice. every once and a while a villain will get on his nerves for a few days—but he always comes home to his (growing) family. he didn’t even have nightmares anymore, blissfully coasting in a stream of peace he never imagined he’d know. the idea of having a lifetime like this was almost too good to be true if he hadn’t known he’d do anything to protect it.

“but don’t think we won’t celebrate on our own later~” you purr in his ear. sheesh, you keep proving this day gets better and better.

[mooncrestedwaters]

Rafayel Partner/BF/Husband Headcanon's

🫧Notes; Back on my bullshit

I did some headcanons for just Rafayel on his own and decided to add some on what I think he'd be like in a relationship

Should I do some smutty ones later on? 🤔

🦪 Being Rafayel's partner means you need to be his muse in tow. Get ready for sitting still for hours on end as he paints you until he's satisfied

🦪 You will invade every aspect of his thoughts, morning, noon and night and he has to practically LEASH himself to not text or call you because "Hey y/n, I saw a flower, it's your favorite!", "hey y/n, what's your thoughts on (insert random obscure topic here)?", "Hey y/n would you still love me if I were a worm?", "hey y/n, lets mix random things in a blender and drink it!"

🦪 Despite his bubbly nature and eagerness to pester you and not give you a moments rest, he is horrifically shy around you.

🦪 One miniscule touch and he's acting like he's been deprived of water for decades and you're the prettiest oasis

🦪 He'll practically rub his cheek against your hand, one hand secured tightly around your wrist to keep it in place and the other around your waist keeping you flush up against him as he begs for you to pay him an attention

🦪 "Y/NNNNNNNNN~! COME GIVE ME ATTENTION!" x1000

🦪 Play with his hair and he becomes goo, melts into you like putty and his eyes become misty with how much he enjoys it

🦪 Likes to treat you as his personal dress-up dolly, especially adorning you in any colours that match himself or the sea he loves just as much as you

🦪 He's not stupidly possessive....but he is with you and shows it in a multitude of ways;

- Buying your perfume, he knows what scents you like and for damn sure what smells best on you

- He knows your measurements and can pick out your size perfectly to flatter you

- Gives you jewelry with his colours/initial on them

- Does your make-up and hair because he wants his personal artist touch displayed on you

🦪 Sucker for matching things, will roll his eyes about it but he has a special shelf for all your matching things and has to make sure your matching mugs are used at the same time with you (or he will get pouty, like how dare you use matching mugs no. 56 without him)

🦪 His phone background is you, he puts on his socials that he's taken with your initial and a '🔒' beside it

🦪 Gods spare the poor soul who inquires or asks about you;

First, he'll be suspicious, sussing out the other party to make sure your safety is protected and then the moment he has verified the person isn't a threat the loving gushing words come out like a dam broken and he literally cannot shut the fuck up about you

🦪 Even when you first started dating he'd refer to you as his 'Wife/Husband'

🦪 Has a notes folder with everything about you, from your favorite colour to what your allergies are

🦪 God forbid he sees you cry. His first priority is to comfort and coddle you in his arms, tightly squeezing you in his arms and brushing you hair with his fingers

If he finds out the reason why you're upset is because of someones actions towards you then that person will hear about it and be paid a special visit

🦪 Best at massages and more than happy to give them

🦪 Part of the pretty hands club, art creating art fr

🦪 In public spaces he needs to have some form of skinship or to be as close to y/n as possible (he will pout and sulk if not)

🦪 Loves to paint y/n while they're asleep

🦪 Has gotten huffy and painted whatever colour was one his brush on y/n (cue play fighting of throwing paint at each other)

🦪 Hates to cook, will cook is y/n asks for it

🦪 Best partner for when y/n is sick/has that time of the month;

He knows ALL of your favorite snacks, what brand medicine/sanitary pads you use and what gifts to get you to cheer you up

🦪 Love languages is Words of Affirmation, Gift Giving and Quality Time

🦪 Favorite date nights are when he can be creative or use his hands to make something;

- Date night where you paint together

- Date nights building lego together (he calls it childish yet keeps buying the sets)

- Date night where you cook together

🦪 When you're sad, one of his ways to cheer you up is to turn on 2000s pop hits and give y/n a private show

- Backstreet Boys? Nope, Rafayel has dressed himself in all white and serenades you

- NSYNC? Nope, Rafayel put two minute noodles on his head as you cackle

- Britney Spears? Nah, it's Rafayel Bitch (You still have pictures of him in a pleated mini skirt and his short hair with two miniscule twin tails)

He takes the brunt of the embarrassment to see your face streaked with tears of joy instead of tears of grief

🦪 Banter Banter Banter, doesn't fucking stop until he gets worked up enough, grabs your cheeks with one hand and kisses you passionately

🦪 Y/N: Oh, thats cute!

Rafayel: *opens wallet*

🦪 Has shown up to your work with flowers and gifts before (Tara won't let you live it down)

🦪 Nicknames for you are;

- Princess/Prince

- My Muse

- Little Fishy

- Darling

- Pretty Baby

- Gorgeous Girl/Boy

🦪 Did a whole exhibit with paintings he made because of you and refused to sell any of them

To him, the world gets to see you but will never own a part of you

[vigilvntes]

Home, Sweet Home – Dick Grayson x Reader

A/N: wjsksksksjd hi. almost 6k of dick grayson flirty fluff. restraint??? i don't know her. i've never heard of her. but i'm back on my dick grayson / jason todd bullshit so! is this ooc?? probably. do i care?? no. did i just want to write some fun flirty charming boyfriend dick grayson fluff because i'm in love with him?? yes. so here you go. shout out to @bvcksmunson for reading this for me before i posted i love you shan!!!!! sorry for any mistakes or typos or wHatever and sorry if you read this in advance !!!! <3 mwah big kiss.

W/C: 5.8k

Warnings: language, sex references because it's me what did we expect, slight references to violence (hopefully i got everything, if not let me know!!)

likes, comments and rbs are very much appreciated !!! <3

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Dick is quick to react to your harsh greeting, throwing himself against your refrigerator dramatically, one hand gripping at the metal corner while the other clutches at his heart through the thick material of his suit. You watch him with raised eyebrows as he sinks down to your kitchen floor with a groan, biting back a smile because you'd hate for him to see that his little display more than amuses you; you're not sure you could live with yourself if you let him have that ego boost.

Dick Grayson is a major pain in your ass, but you'd be lying if you said you're not happy to see your boyfriend.

The hand on his chest flops to the floor, his legs spread out in a V shape, and he leans his head back against your refrigerator, eyes closed. It's quiet between the two of you as you watch him play dead, occasionally cracking open his right eye to make sure you're still watching before screwing it shut again.

You've let him have his moment; indulged in the dramatics enough to satisfy him you think, so you fold your arms over your chest and cock your head, asking, "Are you finished?"

Dick gasps for air suddenly, hyperventilating and choking for at least a minute before hurling his body with a loud thump. He lays on his back, arms and legs splayed out across your kitchen floor. One final, strained breath, and he falls silent again.

Oh, the poor fuckers in the apartment below.

You unfold your arms and give him a slow round of applause as you make your way towards him, looking down at him from above. "Wow. That was really something. I mean, what a show. Truly."

Blue eyes open to meet your own. He's already discarded the domino mask, left it sitting on your countertop along with an array of loose items from his suit. You can tell he's trying so desperately to keep a straight face as you stare down at him. "It's not a show. You've wounded me." He tells you.

You pout, mockingly. "Aw. You poor thing. Give me a minute and I'll cry about it."

"Feels like I've been shot through the heart."

With a roll of your eyes you step around him, opening the cupboard above the sink and grabbing a glass. "Don't tempt me. I might think about actually shooting you next time."

He springs to his feet as you flip the tap on, your back to him while you fill your glass. "Wow. A cold welcome and a threat. Is that any way to greet your favourite boyfriend?" You can practically hear the boyish grin in his tone.

You spin around, leaning against your counter, finally getting a good look at him. He's standing just over a metre away from you, hands on his hips with a smile on his lips that reaches from ear to ear. His black hair is ruffled, falling in his face; probably a consequence of the wind working against him on the way over to your place. There's a few scratches on his cheeks, and one on his chin, but that does nothing to take away from the fact that he's so damn handsome. You know it, and he does too. It's something you curse him for whenever he's around; it makes you falter, you lose your edge a little.

"Who says you're my favourite boyfriend?" You raise the glass to your lips and take a small sip. You're not particularly thirsty, it's more of a tactical move to distract yourself from caving into him immediately; a way to mask the smile that's been teetering on the edge since you saw him stood in your kitchen, raiding through the fridge before you caught him and he began his little performance.

Dick is unfazed by your slightly cutting words, however unserious they are. He knows he's your only boyfriend, there's no one in Blüdhaven who could even begin to compete with him. That grin of his refuses to shift as he asks, "Did I crack the top ten?"

"Barely. I'd place you at number nine."

He shrugs, "Good enough for me. Just don't tell me about these other boyfriends. I don't think my poor heart could take it."

You'll never resist an opportunity to wind him up, so you glance up at the ceiling and sigh, heavy and dreamy, "Well, the guy at number one—..."

Before you can conjure up a fake name and story for your very fake other boyfriend, he's already taken two long strides towards you, trapping you between his body and the counter. He raises his gloved hand up to your face, running it across your cheek down to your jaw, before pressing his index finger against your lips. "Didn't I just tell you not to tell me about your other boyfriends?"

Had anyone else tried their luck in silencing you, attempted to tell you what to do, you're certain you'd have them laid out in ten seconds, flat. Maybe five, if you're feeling particularly vicious. Dick Grayson is the exception. You've known him for years, been dating him for almost three, yet you still enjoy the back and forth of it all; that 'thrill of the chase' feeling is still there, and it still excites both of you just as much as it did all those years ago.

So you play along, a smirk on your lips, "I've never really liked being told what to do."

Dick chuckles quietly, "Don't I know that."

"Yeah. You do." More than anyone.

Your history with him is a long one.

It started back when you were operating in and around Blüdhaven under the alias 'Thorn'. Not very original, you know, and Nightwing made sure to remind you of that every time your paths crossed. You were a little spiteful, feeling as though Nightwing's transfer to Gotham's so called 'ugly sister city' made all the hard work you'd put into protecting the city look like nothing in comparison. You got on his radar pretty quickly, tracking his leads and making sure you got to them first, just to see the look on his face when he turned up and realised he was too late, that you'd already handled the situation. Sure, you didn't have half of the technology that he had from the big, bad Batman himself, but you still found a way to get the job done.

It continued like this for a while; the two of you working against each other, trying to be smarter and faster – better – than the other. Until you came across a threat bigger than the both of you, and a reluctant partnership was established. It was supposed to be a one night only kind of thing, but it quickly spiralled into an every night ordeal, with a sexual tension between the two of you that could've given Hollywood a run for it's money. He'd try and give orders – Batman style – and most of the time you'd blatantly defy him, because you've never really been the type to follow orders, and you knew he got a kick out of it, too.

You really, truly tried to keep your distance, to not allow yourself to be taken in by his dumb flirty comments, his cheesy grin whenever he made you smile, or that light blush that crept across his cheeks whenever you decided to have your own fun with him and flirt back. You tried really hard not to stare at his ass when you thought he wasn't looking, too. But were you ever going to tell him no when he pushed you up against the wall in a dark, wet back alley after a particularly stressful mission, hopped up on adrenaline and just aching for a release?

No, you weren't; you definitely didn't deny him.

It was nice. You were fine with quick, desperate sex in the most private place you could find after a mission followed by a night of sitting on rooftops, talking about anything and everything. One night, he unmasked himself, told you who he really was, and you returned the favour with little to no hesitation because you liked him – despite the embarrassment you felt about having a silly little crush – and you trusted him, most importantly.

It was an unspoken thing for the most part; you were both more than okay with avoiding the 'boyfriend' label because you liked being independent, and Dick – well he seemed to have commitment issues that were, truthfully, unmatched. Which is why it came as a surprise to you when he slipped through your apartment window one night (the one you leave unlocked purposefully for him), crawled into bed next to you and told you very sincerely that he wanted to try 'the boyfriend thing' – he wanted it to be just you and him. You're not sure what brought on his little outburst of romance, but you never doubted him when he told you he loved you that night.

You hung up your suit a year later, choosing to move on from your days of protecting the city, opting instead for a life of normality. Well, as much normality as you could get whilst dating Blüdhaven's very own Bird Boy. It felt right, but a small part of you feared Dick would get bored of you and your new oh-so-normal life – that he wouldn't want to stick around and just exist with you. Your fears were unwarranted, though, because nothing changed for either of you.

Dick is still here, with you; he's still aching for your love and your touch and your everything. You share an apartment. The cupboards are stocked with continental condiments, shelves full of weird knick knacks and multicoloured ornaments he's found abandoned over the years on his nightly patrols. The walls are lined with little plaques that read 'Live, Laugh, Love' and 'Home Sweet Home'; things he claimed to find funny and you detested for the longest time until it hit you one day that he really just loves having a place – a person – to call his. Somewhere he can just be with someone who loves him unconditionally.

As you look up into his eyes, his finger still on your lips, you can't help but think how truly head over heels you are for him, and you know he feels the same. Blüdhaven is, to be frank, a wasteland. Full of grime and grit, with a tainted history that it just can't seem to shake off – one that continues to this day. Dick Grayson is the one thing that keeps you grounded to this city; makes you feel like all of the hours, blood, sweat and tears you poured into the city to protect the people was all worth it, because you found each other. He's the bright light shining above the darkness, the only thing that keeps you here and still has you calling it your home.

But despite your feelings towards him, you still take every opportunity you can to bite at him – literally.

You bat your eyelashes at him and part your lips, taking the tip of his gloved finger into your mouth. He visibly tenses when your tongue swirls against the leather; lets out a breath – almost a moan, when you suck ever so slightly. You're insistent on maintaining eye contact, but he's struggling to look you in the eyes as his face flushes bright red.

You bite down.

Not too harsh, but also not so gentle. It's enough to stun him, makes him jump away from you rather comically. You break out into a laugh while he shakes his hand, looking at you like you've just made him suffer through the ultimate betrayal.

"Ow." He pouts.

Through your giggles, you say, "Aw, did that hurt you, Bird Boy?"

"A little." He mumbles, trying his utmost to keep that sad, little pout on his lips as he watches you laugh at his misery.

"You're a liar, Dick Grayson."

Dick scoffs, "I'm not lying." He points an accusatory finger at you, the same one you sank your teeth into moments ago, "You bite hard."

"You never complained about that before." You say with a shrug, chewing down on your bottom lip.

He raises his hands in surrender, because he knows you're right. "And I'm not about to."

"Good." You let out a content sigh and push yourself off the counter, stepping towards where he stands in the middle of the kitchen. "So what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be in Gotham?"

Dick shrugs, "Just got back. I thought I'd fly by our apartment. No pun intended." But that dumb smirk on his lips tells you that he meant all pun intended. His hands move to your hips, pulling your body close to his. There's earnest in his voice when he tells you, "I missed you. A lot."

You smile up at him, your hands on his chest, fingers tracing the blue symbol on the front of his suit. "Missing someone you love is usually what happens when you haven't seen them in more than two weeks." You joke, poking at his chest.

Despite your lighthearted tone, his face still falls. Guilt clouds in his eyes, and his smirk flips into a sad, little frown. "I'm–..."

You stand on your tiptoes and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his and cutting him off before he can even begin to apologise. He tastes like strawberry chapstick and all the coffee he's been drinking to keep himself awake over the last two weeks. It's a weird combination of flavours, but one that you've become so accustomed to that you wouldn't change it for the world.

You swear you hear him moan quietly against your lips as he kisses you, so desperate to touch you and be close to you and love you. He pulls you towards him by your hips, your body flush against his, so close you can almost hear – no feel, his heartbeat.

You relish in the moment, allowing him to take control for a second because you've missed him too. You started missing him the minute he left your apartment, Gotham bound. You've missed waking up beside him. His bed-head. His smile. The way he sings power ballads in the shower when he doesn't think you're listening, even though you are because how the hell are you not supposed to hear him? You've missed every single piece of him, and you're glad he's been returned to you in pristine condition.

You pull away from him before things can get too heated, before he can even think about slipping his tongue into your mouth and lifting you up on to the counter. Dick is breathless, already wound up. The pale skin of his cheeks flooded with heat that stains them crimson, and you can't help but take a second to appreciate how cute he looks like this. And he's looking at you – in all your glory, donning old pyjamas and a crazy bed head – like you're the most beautiful, precious thing he's ever laid his eyes on. It makes you feel weak in the knees.

"I missed you too." You mumble, pushing a few wayward strands of hair out of his face.

He sighs, "Listen, dove, I'm really–..."

You throw your head back, letting out a loud ugghhhh mixed in with a giggle. "Shut up. I don't need to hear the famous Dick Grayson 'I'm sorry' speech again."

"Things just got–..."

"A little crazy!" You walk away from him, heading out of the kitchen and into the living room area; he follows your trail like a lost puppy, as he always does. "I heard what happened. Read it in the Gazette. You don't have to apologise for it. I get it."

Dick stands next to the couch as you walk over to the open window that he slipped through earlier tonight, hands on his hips. "So... You're not mad at me? Not even annoyed?" He sounds unsure, as if he's just waiting for you to blow up at him, even though he knows you're past that point. Hell, you've never been at that point. You've always been understanding of him and his situation; you were in the same boat as him for god knows how long, struggling to keep a relationship because you couldn't seem to find a balance between your life in and out of the suit. You've never held it against him, and you wouldn't think about starting to.

You glance over your shoulder and give him a soft, sweet smile as reassurance while you try to shove the old, stiff single-hung window shut. "Your family's in Gotham, and they needed your help."

You've only met his strange, mis-matched Gotham family a handful of times, but you care about them like they're your own, because in a way they are. The first time you met them, after the initial surprise of finding out you're Thorn – 'the one Dickie-Bird never shuts the fuck up about', as Jason put it – they welcomed you with open arms, even Bruce. You receive regular check in texts from Cass (usually a meme), and Damian calls you demanding to speak with Dick whenever he suspects he's being purposefully ignored.

"I'd rather you be gone for two weeks straight than hear any bad news coming from Gotham. Especially about you or your family." You give the window one last, hard shove, stepping back when it finally closes with a thud. You turn your attention back to him, "So, no. Not even annoyed. But I do wish you'd close the window after yourself."

Dick shrugs, a small grin on his lips, "I think the breeze is nice."

You scoff, "It's not a breeze. It's wind. Seriously, if you don't start closing the window when you come in, I'm gonna lock it. I'm gonna make you use the entrance. You're gonna have to knock on the door to get in here."

He lets out the most petulant whine you've ever heard, one that you're sure he's used on Bruce one too many times to get his own way – it probably worked, too. "That's not fair."

You just whine back at him mockingly as you walk over to the couch and flop yourself down on your back. "Oh, how tragic. You'll have to use the door of the apartment we've been renting for over a year. My heart hurts for you."

"What if you're asleep?" He asks, folding his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised.

You shrug, smirking at him, "Then you'll have to wait outside allllll night until I wake up."

"What if it's an emergency?"

"Then you'll have to make sure you knock extra loud."

"You're so cruel to me. Always out to hurt poor Dickie's feelings." He climbs up onto the arm of the couch, knees pressing into the soft cushion, ready to drop his body onto yours and melt into you. But you stick your foot out before he can, pushing against his chest and keeping him stationary. He gives you a look of offence, slapping your foot gently in a weak attempt to make you move. You don't.

"Stop leaving the window open."

"I will." He affirms, tapping your foot again.

"Promise?"

"Yes. I promise." He says, with a childish roll of his eyes.

You narrow your eyes at him for a moment, a slight warning that tells him he better take his promise seriously, before dropping your foot. Without hesitation, he lets his body free fall on to yours, although careful not to crush you under his full weight. Still, you let out a quiet oof, because he's heavy – even heavier in that suit of his. You don't have time to think about asking him to shift his weight a little, because his legs are on either side of your body, hands have already found their way to your waist, and his lips are on yours in an instant.

Passionate and slow to begin with, making up for the weeks he's spent away from you; though it seems to turn heated quickly. You let him take the lead, allow him to nip on your bottom lip gently and slip his tongue into your mouth. You give him a minute to re-explore the familiar territory before you decide to have some fun of your own, biting down on his tongue gently and sucking against it. Dick lets out the most delicious, pathetic moan you've ever heard: one that has you giggling whilst pressing your thighs together in an attempt to keep yourself under control.

He pulls back, nose pressed against your own, shooting you a playful glare while your shoulders shake with quiet laughter. "What?" He asks, voice low and on the gruffer side, a bad cover up for what he'd just let slip from his throat seconds ago.

"Someone's excited tonight."

"Hm. Told you." He kisses your nose gently, then your cheek, trailing kisses all the way down to your jaw. "Missed you." He tucks his face into your neck, and you let out a gasp when you feel his tongue drag against the sensitive skin, your back arching into him. "'Nd m'sorry." He mumbles.

"I thought I told you not to apologise." You say, though it's strained; his lips are attached to your neck, and you're finding it hard to even think, let alone form sentences.

"I still wanted to."

You breathe out a laugh, though it turns into something of a moan when you feel his teeth scrape against your skin. "Can't help yourself, can you?"

"Nope." He says, popping the 'P'. Without warning, he bites down on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder. You let out a noise – something between a yelp and a loud moan, and when you look down at him with a pout on your lips, he's grinning at you. "Payback."

"You're a fuckhead."

"You started it."

"....Touché."

You fall quiet, allowing him to continue on with his revenge attack on your neck, whimpering when he sucks down on your sweet spots; cursing under your breath when he slips his cold, gloved hand under the thin fabric of your shirt.

"Don't you have somewhere to be tonight?" You ask. A throwaway question, really. Just a cheap little dig at him to distract yourself from the fact he's getting you riled up.

But then he pauses, his whole body tensing for just a moment, before he answers with a, "No..."

And now your throwaway question is a serious inquiry. "So you do have somewhere you need to be tonight?"

He hums against your skin, "It can wait."

The truth is, it probably can't wait. You try not to read up on crime in Blüdhaven so often, try to keep your days of being a protecter of the city in the past as much as you can (Dick is the exception, of course), but even you know that the city has suffered massively from Nightwing's two week leave of absence in Gotham. Gang and mob activities began to rise the second he left; Blüdhaven always seems to deteriorate into madness when he's not around to keep everyone and everything in line.

With a sigh, you grab on to the back of his suit and pull him away from you, choosing to ignore his whiny protest, making him look at you. "If there's somewhere you need to be, you should go."

"I already told you. It can wait."

You smile at him, brows raised, "Can it? You've been gone for two weeks. You have a lot of catching up to do. Blühaven's really been missing its Boy Wonder."

Dick smirks, "Has it missed me as much as you?"

"I don't think that's possible. I've been crying, like, every day. Total devastation while you've been gone."

"And not a single word of comfort from your nine other boyfriends?" His jaw drops in mock disbelief. "I don't know why you like them more than me."

You hum, "I only like eight of them more than I like you."

He snorts, "Oh, well that makes all the difference."

You smack his shoulder playfully, "Get up."

With a groan, he uses the back cushions of the sofa to push himself off of you, "Can't believe I'm being kicked out of my own apartment. I've been here for, like, fifteen minutes, and I'm already being told to leave." He stands up, stretching out his back as he trudges back to the kitchen to pick up the discarded mask and gadgets he left on the counter. "I'm starting to think you're just dying to get rid of me."

You gasp, "Me?! Never!" You sit yourself up, back leaning against the arm. "I'm just looking out for you. You've already fallen behind schedule."

He chuckles as he straps his gear back into place, "Then why don't you dust off that suit of yours and help me get back on track?"

"Absolutely not. My vigilante days are over." You say with a scoff.

"Don't you miss it?" He asks, shoving his escrima sticks into the tight straps on his back.

"If by 'it', you mean having to haul your ass out of a mess every night because you can't help but bite off more than you can chew, then no. I don't."

"Hey! That's unfair!"

"Is it?"

Dick scoffs, "Yeah. We all know you're the worst at following orders."

You fling your legs over the side of the couch and push yourself up, "Yeah, I am. But you're impulsive."

He fits the domino mask on, and you can't help but feel slightly satisfied at how it sits on his face so perfectly. "Yeah, well, I'm doing fine on my own. Very much alive, actually."

You saunter over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso, looking up at him through your lashes, "Thanks to me. I kept you out of the shit for god knows how long."

"And I'm continuing to keep myself out of it." He taps your nose. "Learnt from the best." You smile softly at him, but then he follows up with, "I meant Batman, by the way." Before he can even gauge your reaction, he's already cracked himself up with his own joke, like he'd been planning it in his head the whole time. He probably – no, definitely had been.

You step back, folding your arms across your chest and shoving your tongue into your cheek to stop yourself from laughing along with it. "You're an asshole."

"I'm your asshole, though." Dick gives you his cheesiest grin as he struts over to the window, patting his body down to check he hasn't forgotten anything. You follow him, stand beside him as he slides the window open with ease and curse him internally because that window – the one he leaves open almost every night – is usually your greatest enemy. But of course, it plays ball for the golden boy. Typical.

With a rather dramatic sigh he climbs through, only partly though, sitting on the sill with one leg dangling freely above the city and the other still in your apartment, foot pressing against the hardwood floor. "I won't be too long. Promise." He tells you.

You snort, "That translates to 'I'll see you in the morning', in Dick Grayson terms."

Dick lifts his shoulder in a half shrug, a soft smile on his lips, "Maybe. But I'll be home for breakfast, for sure. What do you want? I'm feeling..." He pauses for a second, chewing on his bottom lip before he comes to a conclusion, "Pancakes."

"You're always feeling pancakes. They're like, the only thing you're good at making. Unless we want our whole apartment building to burn down because you decided to branch out for breakfast."

"Pancakes it is!" He announces.

"Cool."

He nods, "Yeah. Cool."

Then it falls quiet between the two of you. Dick rubs his chin, staring right at you – specifically a certain part of your face – as you chew down on that something and glance around the room, feigning cluelessness. He won't leave without a kiss goodbye; not once has he climbed through the window and disappeared into the night without planting his lips on yours. You'll give into him, because you always do, but you love to tease. Not to mention the fact he's only just come back, and although you're more than happy for him to go out and take care of whatever's going on in the streets, you're willing to delay Nightwing's return to Blüdhaven for a little while longer.

You're making a point to look anywhere but at him, and the longer the silence drags on, the more you begin to feel the giggles rising in your throat. You can't even look at him for more than a second, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tries to fight back hysterics because he knows what you're doing.

Eventually, you take it upon yourself to break the silence, covering your mouth with your hand and asking through stifled laughter, "Are you gonna leave?"

Dick breaks, bursting out into a fit of laughter. He leans his head back against the window frame, shoulders shaking. "I can't leave yet." You shoot him an amused look that says 'oh really?'. "You know what I want."

You let out a lighthearted groan which quickly descends into a giggle, "Do I have to?"

"Uh-huh. Got two weeks to make up for."

"And whose fault is that?"

He shrugs, "Mine, and I'm dead set on making up for lost time. Bring it here, Thorny." He leans over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him.

"Don't fucking call me that." You try to say it with as much malice as you can muster, which is hard considering you can't seem to stop grinning at him.

"Wow. Someone's feeling prickly tonight. I can see why you called yourself Thorn." His hand rests on the small of your back, gently commanding you to stay put.

"Fuck you, Grayson. I'll push you out of the window."

His brows shoot up in amusement at your meaningless threat. "That'd be rude."

"Yeah?"

Dick nods slowly, "Yeah. Could kill me." That's a lie. Both of you know that even if you did mean it and you were planning to push him out, he'd find a way to counter. You live on the top floor of your building, but he's a trained acrobat and a quick thinker with enough gadgets on his person to ensure he'd be back at your window in two minutes, tops.

Still, you play along. "Maybe that's the goal."

"You love me too much to kill me."

"Oh, you think?"

He blows out his cheeks, "Wow. You're so mean to me."

You reach up and run your fingers through his soft hair, "Yet you keep coming back."

"Well, I do live here." He deadpans. You stare at him for a good ten seconds before you break out into another fit of giggles, punching his shoulder and breathing out a 'fuck you'. He raises his free hand, "I'm just saying. Wouldn't wanna go through the moving out process. Y'know, having to pack my stuff and hire a moving service—...."

"Get out!"

"Nuh-uh. Gimme a kiss first." Dick leans closer to you and puckers his lips, screwing his eyes shut. He gives you a moment, and when he doesn't feel you move he raises his hand and taps his index finger against his lips. "I won't leave until you kiss me."

With another groan, you lean in and plant your lips against his. You try to pull away quickly, short and sweet, but he keeps you close. He kisses you again, and again, and again. Until you're practically balancing on the heels of your feet, held up only by his strong hand on your back, and he's almost back inside of your apartment.

You let out a breathless laugh against his lips, your hands pushing against his shoulders, "Go, or I won't let you leave."

"Is that a promise?" He murmurs.

"Go."

With a sigh, he turns his body and lifts his other leg over the window, gripping on to the top pane to keep himself seated for the time being. He looks over his shoulder at you, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

You give him a smile, "Okay."

"I'm gonna make you the best pancakes you've ever eaten."

"I'm sure."

He rolls his eyes playfully, because how dare you doubt his pancake making skills. "See you in the morning, babe. Love you!" With that, he pushes himself off the window and free falls.

You've watched him do it countless times, but you can't help the way it takes your breath away every single time; panic sucker punches you right in the stomach and you can't help but yell out 'Richard John Grayson' as you throw yourself towards the window and lean the upper half of your body out into the cold city.

That wing-suit of his will be the death of you one day.

You look down at the dimly lit streets, looking for any sign of your boyfriend who's just allowed himself to drop from the top floor of the apartment building, but he's nowhere in sight. It's only when you hear his voice calling your name that you realise he's standing atop a lower roof across the street, a dumb grin on his lips.

"That was really funny, Dickie!" You yell out sarcastically, folding your arms across your chest.

"It's my party trick!" He shouts back, resting his hands on his hips. "You know what I always say: you'll never know if you can fly unless—...."

"You take the risk of falling! Whatever! Get out of here!"

You hear him laugh, despite the distance between you. He turns, ready to take off into the depths of the city, but not before yelling another, "I love you!"

With an eye roll, and a soft smile on your lips, you tell him, "I love you too! Be safe!" You're just about to retreat back into the warmth of your apartment, but you remember you still need to tell him something very important. "Close the window when you get back!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know!"

The next morning, you wake up to a sleep-deprived boyfriend cursing under his breath at a bowl of homemade pancake mix, and a very open window.

[malicedragoness]

NSFW Syzoth X Reader Headcanons

So, I’m very excited to have human Reptile again, and holy shit he did not need to be so hot, but NRS went there, and I am thankful they did. And I know there’s fans that have always been thirsty for Reptile, and I acknowledge you. YOU ARE VALID AND YOU STUCK BY YOUR MANS FOR A LONG TIME! YOU ARE DEDICATED AND DEVOTED!

I wrote these with both female and readers in mind, and for you to visualize whichever form of Syzoth you want. There are parts where I mention his human form. I was also writing SFW headcanons, but they need more work. So those will be coming in the next few days.

And for that one person who asked a long time ago if I write for Reptile. I did today and this is for you!

-Syzoth knows you're interested in his long tongue, and he is more than happy to use it on you, and whichever hole you desire. It gives him a great sense of pride to know he can pleasure you with it unlike anyone else. His tongue is smooth and pink, with ridges along the side. With his enhanced sense of taste, he could be down there for hours, growling and tasting you until you can’t handle it anymore. If you’re thinking of the new MK 1 Syzoth in human form, he can transform just his tongue if you wish.

-Syzoth’s favorite body part of yours is your lips. He’s completely fascinated with them. He loves to touch them and feel how soft and plump they are. When you first gave him a kiss on the cheek, he made a cute rumbling noise in his throat. 

In his human form, he gets nervous to kiss you, he’s afraid he’s going to mess up somehow. But if you go slow and take your time with him, he’ll gain more confidence with each kiss. 

He loves it when you trail kisses from his lips, to his neck, and downwards. Enjoying all these new sensations. And when you take his cock into your mouth, he goes stiff and moans loud! 

-Syzoth instinctually has a breeding kink. There is a certain time during the year where he’ll go into heat. His behavior changes during this time and becomes aggressive to anyone that comes close to his partner. During this period, he’ll try to keep you home as often as he can, and may seem a bit delusional, as he thinks everything is a threat to his mate. He may also leave markings on your neck, shoulders and thighs as a way of claiming you. 

Even if he has a male partner, he still has the animal instinct to want to breed. So he’ll keep cumming inside you until he’s satisfied his instinctual urge.

And you know some reptiles have two dicks right? They will emerge when he is extremely horny, or at the peak of his heat. 

-Favorite Positions: When he’s on top, he likes missionary the most, but he wants to be flush against you. That reptilian part of him naturally wants to have skin-on-skin contact. He won’t hold himself up on his arms, they’re going to be wrapped around you with his hands in your hair, and giving you long, deep kisses. 

Spooning is another favorite of his. His hands will feel all along your body, touching and caressing your sensitive spots. Inhaling your scent and kissing your neck. 

Now when you’re on top, he loves to admire your body. Syzoth likes to be able to see you when you’re riding him or penetrating him (either with your dick or your strap on).

And please give this baby some praise! Especially caressing his face and telling him he’s a good boy. He only lives to make you happy. 

-He is used to serving people his whole life, and is naturally a bottom leaning switch. But if you wish for him to take over, he will be a service top. Only when it’s mating season, or you’ve teased him enough, is when he becomes more assertive/aggressive.

-Syzoth loves to sleep on giant rocks outside to sunbathe, or relax in the water blowing little bubbles. They are also some of his favorite places to fuck you. Other places would be in the privacy of your home or in your bathtub. The first time he saw you take a bubble bath, he couldn’t help but climb in and lay on top of you, blowing little bubbles in the water. 

Imagine you’re out swimming with him. And he just glides up to you in the water, his body moving fluidly, him blowing bubbles the entire way. Little cutie.

-Reptiles have a specially chemicalized organ that can convert their smell into taste. So when you're aroused, not only will Syzoth smell it, but with a flick of his tongue he can taste it in the air. Every single time you get turned on by his mere presence, the smell will drive him wild. 

You can tell when he smells it by how often his tongue flicks out. When he’s in human form, you’ll see his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, and his beautiful green eyes follow your every move.

If you ever want him to lose control and his room is next to yours, then start touching yourself at night. If it’s before you’re in a relationship, he will rut into his bed or his hand, tasting your smell and cumming hard. 

If it’s when you're together, he’ll try not to hold out for as long as he can, because he doesn’t want to storm into your room and embarrass you. But the longer you do it, the more  intoxicating your smell is, and the harder his cock gets. By this point, both cocks are out and leaking precum, and he’s storming into your room ready to take you in every way. 

-Male partners don’t have to be bigger than him, even though it’s pretty easy. His Saurian form is massive, but he’ll still lean down and nudge his head under your chin. He is able to change male genitals to female, but this process takes weeks. 

-Tail play! This is the equivalent to thigh riding for him. Whether he’s using the tip of it against your holes, or he’s grabbing you by the hips and rubbing your sex against the meat of his leathery tail. He loves to have your back against his chest, so he can bury his head against your neck and breathe in your scent. 

[cultofdixon]

It was worth it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Impatience is real. Stubbornness as well. Daryl just wished he took the damn thing from you before you decided to let your one brain cell act impulsively • SFW/NSFW - Implied smut / Nudity • TW: Minor Injury

Requested by: Anon

Daryl wanted to test his bike out before going on recruitment runs with Aaron. He trusted his build enough to have to girl test it out with him. Y/N always loved the motorcycle rides they went on back during their prison days so she wasn’t turning this down.

“Yea ready?” The archer watches his girl step out of the house they were given in one of the town house strip.

“Yup! I didn’t really bring much. Think we can find some things while we’re out?”

“If we run into a place, yeah. But thought we’d enjoy a quick ride”

“Oh well. We are in the wrong place…” Y/N smirks swaying in a playful manner making her partner’s face turn best red instantly.

“I hate you…”

“You love me” She smiles bringing herself close and kissing Daryl feeling his arm wrap around her with his hand trailing down. “Mmm…” she hums against his lips before parting. “Maybe I can go for a ride later”

“Mm. If the bike doesn’t take us out out there” Daryl chuckles lightly feeling her lips return to his for one more kiss before finally getting on his bike.

After Abraham let the two out of the community, the ride went smoothly. Daryl did a good job with building this bike and he was enjoying himself that he got to do something he enjoyed in the old world…and with his girl.

The two stopped at a small strip and rummaged through some of the stores as Y/N found herself in a small convenience store. Daryl stood outside lighting himself a cigarette and keeping an eye out for anything while she went through it. He dropped the cig when he heard her scream inside.

“JACKPOT!”

Daryl quickly ran over to Y/N seeing her hold up a jar of peanut butter which made his annoyance show instantly.

“Seriously?”

“Bitch. It’s the creamy kind too. Not the gross crunchy one you found last week”

“The things I do to satisfy my girl and she disses it” Daryl scoffs playfully, helping her stand from her crouching position. “Remind me not to bring yea back anythin’”

“What! Just because I wasn’t happy that one time?!”

“You can’t tell when I’m teasing huh?”

“Oh I can tell…just. In bed” Y/N smirks making her man blush to her words before she exits the building squealing happily.

The archer did one last sweep of the place for anything useful to the rest of their community, watching Y/N struggling to open the jar where she stood beside his bike.

“Wait til we get home, and I’ll open it there”

“I’ll open it. But yeah this deserves the comforts of our home. In bed”

“Not in bed. Why yea eating in the bed?”

“I can be lazy if I want. You ever heard of breakfast in bed?” Y/N questions him watching the confused look return. “Remind me to spoil you one morning. But fine I won’t eat this in bed”

“Come on crazy girl. Let’s go home” Daryl took the jar from her hands seeing that death glare of hers come out. “Turn around. I’ll put it in your bag”

“You better!” She playfully threats listening to him scoff once again, feeling her backpack shift which meant he actually put the jar in her pack. “Thank you”

“Mhm” Daryl zips up her pack before resting his hands on her hips a second as he leaned into her from behind kissing her cheek. “Now come on” he pats her butt in a playfully manner as she did the same to him when he approached his bike. “Seriously?”

“I’m not the only one with a fine butt”

“Stop” Daryl rolls his eyes getting on his bike and feeling the shift when Y/N got on and wrapped her arms around his middle.

Once they returned, the jar of peanut butter was forgotten about given the two returned late and Daryl had about enough of his girl’s flirting. The second he stepped off his bike after Y/N and kicking the kick stand up, Daryl took her face into his hands smashing his lips firmly against hers. She was taken back by the action before wrapping her arms around his neck continuing to kiss her man.

“Mmm—“ Y/N pushes him off gently. “I ain’t strippin’ in the streets, D”

“As much as that would be a show, only I get to see yea naked” Daryl quickly picks her practically running up the small stairs, and kicking the door open.

When he past the threshold, Y/N kicked the door closed before slipping out of his arms to rid herself of her clothing. She slowly backed away from him as every article of clothing of hers fell to the floor. Daryl didn’t know to take her right then and there or grabbing her and carrying her the rest of the way to their bed.

“Like what you see Dixon?”

“Always”

“Then come and get me, sunshine” Y/N smirks using the nickname for her on Daryl which somehow riled him up as he quickly closes the distance picking her up and taking her to bed.

A few hours pass and Y/N stretched some of the soreness of her body out as she got up in the middle of the night. Or morning rather. It was still dark out but her body was telling her to get some water. After a couple rounds with Daryl, she needed much more than just water to recuperate. Maybe a day of sleep. She quietly slipped out of the bed feeling the wobbling in her legs that made her stumble. He was not gentle.

Y/N decided that since he wasn’t shy about leaving his bruising mark on her that it’s only fair for her to wear his shirt and boxers while she went to get water.

“I feel like…I’m missing something” She whispers to herself and then remembered.

The peanut butter.

That’s when Daryl stirred when he heard commotion happening in the other room. He felt the empty space beside him and knew it was just Y/N. Probably getting water…maybe she’ll figure out how to get ice for the claw marks stinging on his back. He suddenly flinched when he heard Y/N curse loudly in the other room.

“The fuck she get into…” He groans getting up and out of the bed, grabbing his sweats from the other night that were still on the floor of the room slipping those on quickly.

The archer enters the room seeing the back of Y/N on the couch as he can hear the satisfied humming from her. She finally got to eat her peanut butter. Since he was up he decided to get himself water and as he reached for a glass he noticed blood on the counter.

Daryl stopped reaching for a glass and checked if it was fresh or dried and it was definitely fresh.

“Hey, did yea make yourself a peanut butter sandwich and nicked yourself or something?”

“No?”

“Then why is there blood…” Daryl turned to his girl seeing her in a huddled position on the couch with her arm holding the jar of peanut butter and not her hand. For obvious bloody reasons. “Oh my god. What the fuck?!”

“What!” Y/N yells back as she scoops another spoonful of peanut butter with her uninjured hand and immediately eating it.

“Why are you so fucking calm?! Your hand is a geyser!” Daryl snaps grabbing a towel off the kitchen counter and walking toward Y/N about to wrap her hand when her whole body retracted. “Hey now, you’re fucking bleeding”

“I am well aware” Y/N hissed when he tried reaching for her hand again. “It’s just a scratch”

“That’s a goddamn flesh wound!”

“And?” She scoffs clearly ignoring the fact that she was bleeding a lot, granted her mind was elsewhere. “Can you hand me those?” She pointed with her foot to the crackers on the coffee table, seeing Daryl’s extremely confused face. “Fine. I’ll grab it”

As Y/N grabbed the crackers from the table after setting the spoon down, she went back to her huddled position on the couch now eating the peanut butter with the unsalted crackers she took from the pantry the other day.

“You’re starting to piss me off”

“Why? I was hungry. Couldn’t open it. Found a way and now we are here” Y/N laughs slightly as she continues to eat like no issue was happening, even if her hand started to sting a bit.

“Y/N. You should go see the doctor”

“I’m sorry, last I checked this is my stab wound. Not OUR” She waved a cracker around before scooping up some peanut butter with it. “Now let me enjoy my peanut butter IN PEACE—-before I get blood on my crackers”

“You are getting blood on your crackers though”

“Huh” She looks at the situation in her lap. “Well at least it’s my blood” and went back to eating.

The next day crawls in and Aaron decided to visit their residence to ask about the ride they went on yesterday. He knocked happily and was met with Y/N in the same attire she was wearing last night. Daryl wears practically only black or dark clothing. Aaron couldn’t see the blood stains. But he did notice the heavy bandage on her hand.

“Oh no what happened?” His worry caught Daryl’s attention as he approached the door to see Y/N give it a good thought before smirking.

“Vigorous love making that involved a bit…” Y/N leaned in a bit. “of knife play” she whispers watching Aaron’s face flush which made her laugh as she made her exit back inside the house. Leaving the two to share a bit of awkward silence.

“Y/N went to stab the lid to her peanut butter jar last night and missed the first time”

“Oh…thank god it wasn’t the other thing”

“Mm. She was lying about the knife play. Not the other thing” Daryl smirks deciding that was the end of that conversation closing the door on Aaron.

Leaving the poor guy traumatized.

[mostmouse]

Hi I’ve seen your work and love how you write for kyojuro! Can you write a kyojuro x reader where the reader is pregnant and how he spoils her during her pregnancy in many ways *hint* *hint* and maybe a scene where after there daughter is born some bigot says that he “wouldn’t forgive his wife for having a girl” and kyo is like wtf dude and puts him in his place to defend his wife and daughter.

This got away from me a little bit, but I hope you still like it! its a tiny hint of yandere, if you look :)

A Proud Father (AO3)

(Kyojuro Rengoku x f!reader, explicit, threat of violence, slight yandere, 4,100 words)

Kyojuro couldn't be prouder or more in love with his beautiful wife and daughter. He has his little brother and best friend visit as well, and only loses his cool for one moment when a drunkard insults his two girls.

Kyojuro rubbed his hand across your round belly, voice hot as he whispered in your ear. You panted next to him, his chest pressed flush against your back as your leg was curled back over his hip. The fluffiest pillow you had was tucked under your tummy, supporting it as he lovingly rolled his hips against you, filling you up.

Moaning softly, your heavy eyes fought to stay open. “My little flame is so sleepy. It’s alright if you pass out, my love. I promise to take good care of your body and our little one while you’re resting.” You whined at his breathy words, hot kisses trailing the back of your neck.

“Kyo~” He groaned, your voice washing over him like velvet. The both of you moaned loudly as he thrust inside of you roughly, his apologies falling over you as you gripped the pillow next to your head. “P-Please, more, like th-ahh!”

You keened sharply as Kyojuro pressed tighter to you, strong arm winding around you like a tree trunk as he bucked his hips. “You’re tempting me more than you know… I don’t want to hurt the baby, but fuck- you’ve been so insatiable the last few weeks.” His words were in his usual loving tone, his hand gentle, but he pounded you a bit harder. Anchoring his feet and knee, he slipped his swollen thick cock deep inside you.

You gasped under him, moaning wantonly. Hands leaving the pillow, you gripped your heavy breasts in your palms, whimpering as your body bounced. “K-Kyo!” He panted behind you, and you knew he was close. Even after you climaxed twice on his hands, once in his mouth, and only a handful of moments ago, you still felt yourself tightly wound up, mouth watering at the feeling of his cock inside you.

“D-Don’t- ah! Don’t stop! Please, please, please don’t stop!” Kyojuro laughed breathless behind you, arm propping himself up as he fucked you. You whimpered, words slurring on your tongue as you tried to spread your legs wider, almost sobbing as he slipped just a bit deeper inside of you.

He groaned, hand leaving the soft, warm curve of your tummy and instead rubbing your clit with his rough and calloused hands. Panting right by your ear, you cried out as he brought you to another climax, your clit sensitive and overstimulated. Kyojuro bit your shoulder, muffling his cry as you tightened almost painfully around him.

Every night this week had been almost the same routine, though the positions and locations often changed. He couldn’t count how many times he’d gotten you off, and yet you would still look up at him with such pleading eyes, begging him to blow his load inside you and to help you cum.

His hand left your puffy clit, instead gripping the sheets tightly as he helped you ride out your high. The only thing on his mind was making sure you were happy and satisfied, that you felt as beautiful and perfect and attractive as before you were this heavily pregnant. Your cries and moans were music to his ears as he rocked inside you. However, the more salacious your sounds were getting, the harder it was to hold himself back.

With a tight groan, he kissed the shell of your ear. “Where do you want me to- ahh! Fi-Finish, my little- hahh~” Whimpering, he listened as you hummed delightedly, hips moving against his, not quite flexible enough anymore to grind.

“Inside~ Fuck, Kyo, please~” Drool wet the pillow under your mouth, eyes finally closing as your worn out body came down from your continuous orgasms. Your brows pinched upwards as your large husband adjusted you, turning you to be more on your back. You whined, the strain on your belly uncomfortable without your pillow, but Kyo’s voice was hot in your ears.

“Ju-Just for a moment, my love, fuck!” His hands held your hips gently, not enough to leave marks but just to keep you in place. You cried out loudly as he pounded you fast and hard, gripping his hands as you tried to arch your back. “Fuck, fuck! You feel amazing, my sweet little flame- ahh! So perfect around me- take all this cum, baby, it’s only for you.”

He bit your shoulder, moving along your neck and leaving light marks. His hips slammed against yours roughly until he cried out, back arching the both of you upwards. You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back and a sudden wave of satisfaction hitting you. You went limp in his grip, feeling his cum pool inside you.

As he came back down, he gently laid you back on your side, readjusting the pillow and your legs before he gently slipped out of you. Laughing at your sleepy whines, he kissed your cheek and the corner of your mouth before snuggling in behind you, tugging the blankets up with his feet. “I’m sorry, sweetness, but I can’t stay inside you like this. It’s not comfortable for you anymore.”

His voice was soft, his legs tangling with yours and holding you just until you fell asleep, then he’d get something to clean the both of you up. He didn’t want you to be sticky and feeling gross, but in the later months of your pregnancy, you were near tears when he was away from you - even a trip to the bathroom was too far for your tastes.

You whimpered, wiggling against him, words jumbled together as you tried to speak to him. Kissing your jaw, he moved down and sucked small marks into your neck and shoulders. “I’ll be right here, I promise. And when you wake up, I’ll be right here as well.”

You sighed contentedly, making other sleepy noises as you snuggled in and gently fell asleep. Kyojuro stayed by your side as promised, only sneaking away to get a cloth to clean you up and some water and snacks.

Then, one fateful sunny afternoon, the big day arrived. Kyojuro was next to you, holding onto you with a bright smile on his face, telling you how great you did and how beautiful the baby was. She had thick blond hair, and wide brows. You had laughed so happily you cried once you saw the little bundle, holding her to your bare chest.

Kyojuro had cried as well, tears slipping down his cheeks as he couldn’t help but smile. He had sent his crow moments ago with the good news for Master and the other hashira to rejoice in. The two of you were quiet now, holding onto each other and passing your sweet daughter back and forth.

The hours went by, and as you slept, he helped maneuver your daughter on your chest, letting her eat before he went and got food for the both of you. He had set up your birthing bed in the living room, piling futons atop each other on the tatami and burrowing you inside of them.

He felt much better knowing that he could see you from all over the house. The bathroom, the kitchen, the outdoors. You were at the center of it all with the newest addition to your family. Smiling to himself, he thought of Senjuro - he hadn’t sent his crow to his little brother, instead he wanted to tell him in person and bring him to your home.

He knew you would be thrilled, you had told him before giving birth how you wished you had your child in your arms already so you could show them off to all the demon slayers, hashira, Master, and especially Senjuro. In fact, you had asked Kyojuro if he could set up a spare room so that Senjuro could stay if he’d like to - as long as he didn’t mind the crying that was sure to come.

However, your sweet bundle so far was a quiet unfussy little ember, resting adorably in her mother’s arms, big eyes looking up at him occasionally. The little girl had your eyes, your nose, and was closer to your complexion than his. Clenching his fists, with an unflappable smile on his face, he went outside silently, leaving the door open so he could still see you as he walked into the yard.

Clapping his hands over his mouth, he leaned forward and screamed into his palms. He was too energized, too excited, too much for the sleeping pair in the family home. Pulling his hair, he kicked his leg, digging up dirt as he grinned almost painfully.

Keeping his eyes on his two girls, he focused on breathing exercises Mitsuri had taught him that she used when she got too excited as well. Counting in his head, he finally felt his heartbeat slow down and his body become just a few degrees cooler. Sighing, his smile softened, new tears clinging to his lash line as he approached the house once more and got another look at the two of you.

After a few days passed, Kyojuro invited Tengen to the home, telling the other hashira they could come soon but to still give his beloved time to heal and adjust. Both you and Tengen were sitting together in the living room, you had finally moved from your nest to a rocking chair and were nursing the baby while he sat in the doorway. His gems clinked in the wind, soft eyes watching you closely and subtly.

Kyojuro had left the house to collect Senjuro from his family’s estate. He had told you he wouldn’t tell him you had already given birth, wanting to see his face when he saw your daughter. Tengen had laughed boisterously, clapping Kyojuro on the back as the two of them joked. Your heart had swelled in adoration, seeing your husband with his close friend and ally, living as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

You were tired, being awake at odd hours feeding the baby as well as the fatigue of giving birth to a human person. “You can rest up, I’ll make sure she doesn’t fall out of your arms.” Tengen’s soft low voice called out to you, and you blearily blinked at him. “Kyojuro and his brother will be a while, Senjuro isn’t that tall after all, he can’t keep up with his big brother’s strides yet.”

The two of you laughed, your baby gurgling in your arms. Looking down at her, you made eye contact with the sound hashira once more, “Want to hold her? She should be tired now that she’s gotten her fill. I wouldn’t mind crawling back into the blankets without her for just a little while.”

Tengen blinked before grinning widely. “I wouldn’t mind at all, please.” He took her gently from your weak arms, huffing in laughter as they fell right back to your sides as you relaxed fully. “She’s so small… By the gods, what an amazing gift.”

You hummed, getting up before sinking down to your knees, crawling into the futon and flopping down. Afterall, there was no need for dignity in front of Kyojuro’s best friend, not when you knew the man had three wives, surely he was used to such domestic antics. Heaving a heavy sigh, your tired eyes fell on the two of them as he sat back down, looking at the little girl in his arms and feeling something stir inside him.

“Isn’t she wonderful? She’s nearly the spitting image of her daddy. I bet he's proud beyond all reason. What did he say when he invited you here?” Tengen grinned, biting his lip to keep from being too loud with a baby in his arms.

“Just that I needed to prepare myself to see the most beautiful little girl this world has ever seen. I bet he was even more awestruck getting to see her than he was with his own brother’s birth.”

The both of you laughed, indeed even at a young ago, Kyojuro was amazed when Senjuro was born. The same sort of amazement probably possessed him as he witnessed his own daughter’s birth. The two of you laughed and chatted softly, Tengen smiling in relief once you fell asleep. He was aware of how exhausted you looked, he had never known you to slow down for even a second, the perfect match for the energetic flame hashira. Turning his attention back to the little bundle, he stroked her short thick hair, admiring her little nose and tiny mouth.

You were right, she was fat and happy and completely easy to deal with. He hoped she would be a good baby for the two of you. Pinching her cheeks, he laughed softly as she batted his hands as if she were a small kitten. Her only other sibling, the cat you and Kyojuro shared, was resting on your blankets, keeping a watchful eye on baby and mother.

Humming softly, he held your daughter as you slept. Slowly, the sun made its way through the sky and he could hear Kyojuro’s voice in the distance. Grinning to himself, he slipped around the corner of the door, leaving one foot out so Kyojuro would notice immediately but still able to surprise Senjuro.

The front doors slid open, the two brothers talking excitedly with each other, as they slipped off their shoes. Stepping up the entryway, Kyojuro smiled softly as he saw you asleep in the blankets. Senjuro smiled, tilting his head, “Should we come back, brother? She looks really tired.”

Kyojuro grinned, catching Tengen’s foot by the open door, “I would think she would be busy, considering…” He let his words trail off, the obvious sign for his best friend as he rounded the corner, blond baby in his arms.

“Considering she just helped this little one come into the world! Say hi to your niece, Senjuro.” Tengen was all grins as he watched the youngest Rengoku brother’s eyes widen as big as dinner plates. Walking up to the both of them, he winked at Kyojuro before sinking to one knee, presenting the little girl to Senjuro.

Senjuro balked, looking up at his brother. Kyojuro nodded, kneeling down and placing an arm around his little brother’s shoulders, “It’s okay, you can hold her. I know you’ll protect her, little brother.”

Swallowing, Senjuro held out his arms, marveling as Tengen placed the baby with him before letting her go. Senjuro teared up, big drops dripping down his cheeks as he looked at the little girl. Sniffling, he looked to Kyojuro, “She’s… She’s your baby. Your child.” Looking down again, he heard Kyojuro and Tengen laugh softly, his brother’s hand resting atop his head.

“Yes, she’s my daughter. And she’s your family too, Senjuro. Should anything ever happen to me… Could I ask you that you show her the same love I would?” Senjuro’s eyes met Kyojuro’s, “I haven’t brought up anything with her yet, I know such a question would upset her terribly, especially so soon after the birth. But it’s something I need to know, for my own sanity. I’m sorry for asking such a thing of you, little brother.”

His eyes were soft as he gazed down at Senjuro, the spitting image of himself - of their father. However, unlike their father, Senjuro’s eyes lit brightly, a flame dancing within them, “I swear to you, brother! No matter what happens, I will always love her and protect her, I won’t ever let anything happen to either of them.” His face was steely in determination, and for a moment, Kyojuro realized his brother had grown much without him being there.

Fresh tears in his eyes, he didn’t fail to notice how Senjuro said ‘either’ of you, and his soul warmed knowing that he would be there for you, too. Hugging his little brother and new baby girl, he sobbed quietly. “I know you will. Thank you, thank you so much Senjuro. I’m so proud of you.” Leaning back he ruffled his hair before kissing his forehead, smiling down once more, “When did you grow into an honorable young man? You make me so proud to be able to call you my brother.”

Senjuro’s eyes welled up once more, and with a laugh Tengen took the baby from his arms, letting Senjuro hug his brother close, the latter lifting him into his arms and laughing delightedly. Tengen turned to face you, hearing you rustle in your blanket fort and sit up. Your hair was a mess, your kimono wrinkled and crooked, but you smiled as if you were the most blessed woman in the country. Though, he supposed you were. Kyojuro was the most amazing man he knew.

Once you welcomed Senjuro, holding the baby in your arms once more and feeding her, the Rengoku brothers were kind enough to cook something for the four of you, Tengen helping where he could, mostly fussing over you as you waddled about, kimono loose and tiredly dazed.

Once all of you had a nice hot meal together, passing the baby around so everyone could get their fill, it was finally evening and Senjuro wanted to go home for a couple days to collect his things before joining the two of you to stay for a bit. Tengen was once again alone with you as the Rengoku brothers left.

You had a nice chat, but apologized as you were growing more and more fatigued after the eventful evening. Tengen assured you that it wasn’t a problem, that he was more than happy to get to spend time with the baby as well, and you couldn’t help but grin. “Kyo always talks about how you’re as close as brothers, so honestly,” You yawned, nestling back up in your blankets, “I consider you family as well, she’ll be so thrilled… to get to know… her uncle Tengen.”

Tengen stood there, shocked expression on his face as you snored softly in your makeshift bed. Blinking rapidly, he looked down at the baby in his thick arms. “Kyojuro’s brother… family… niece…” Expression warming, his heart beat loudly in his chest. Leaning down, he kissed the little girl on her forehead, moving to sit outside on the engawa and looking up at the dusk stars. “Maybe… I could have a big family, too.” Looking down at her, “Would you want a lot of cousins?”

She giggled in his arms, flapping her tiny hands and little eyes watching everything around her. Soft smile on his face, he looked back up to the sky. “Yeah, me too. Maybe I’ll talk to Hina, Makio, and Suma about it.” Keeping one ear out for your breathing, and the other focused on the little bundle in his arms, he let himself get lost in the stars thinking about his retirement.

Meanwhile, Kyojuro waved at Senjuro as he walked out the estate gate. He had tried to talk to his father about his granddaughter, but once again, he was too intoxicated to hold a proper conversation. Wishing him well, he had walked back to the door with Senjuro. Grinning, he closed the gate before taking off.

Sprinting through the woods as a shortcut, he basked in the feeling of being in his uniform again, the comforting weight of his katana at his side. He figured he would do a quick patrol around the area to make sure there weren’t any signs of demons in the vicinity, just for his own peace of mind.

Once he had his fill, he stopped at the night market, shopping around for something sweet to bring home to you and Tengen. Browsing the stalls, he sniffed the air, trying to find something on the wind, possibly. However, in the corner of his eye, he saw a man giving him a harsh look.

Hair bristling for some reason, he decided to approach him, cautious of the feeling at the back of his mind. The man scoffed, taking a swig from the jug in his hand and turned to go down the alley. Kyojuro kept his face neutral, following him before they were out of the general marketplace.

Watching the man closely, Kyojuro smiled, “Hello! I couldn’t help but notice you earlier. Is there something I can help you with, or perhaps, did you need something?” The man sneered up at him, his breath so heavy with alcohol it almost had Kyojuro retching.

“Yeah, actually.” He practically spit the words out, disrespectful glare aimed towards Kyojuro, “Heard you were a big shot demon slayer, and yet all that little whore could give you was some bitch of a daughter. I wouldn’t stand for my heir to be a-” Kyojuro’s vision flashed red, livid anger rising within him in the blink of an eye.

He wasn’t one much for physical violence between humans, but with how this man was acting, he was even less than a demon. Kyojuro’s hand wrapped around the drunkard’s neck, the jug of sake dropping and breaking, splashing alcohol all over his shoes. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he stared at the man, lips in a straight line.

“If you ever speak of my wife or daughter again, in any way, I’ll kill you.” Bringing him closer to his face, his voice turned gravelly, “After all, I’m a big shot demon slayer - all I would have to do is say you were a demon and burn you alive. Nobody would spare a thought about it.”

The man floundered in Kyojuro’s grasp, hands weakly pulling at his as he coughed and choked. “Do I make myself clear?” As the man continued to sputter, Kyojuro’s hand tightened, threatening to crush the man’s throat.

As he nodded, gurgled voice incoherent, Kyojuro dropped him, watching as he crumpled at his feet in the sake soaked dirt. As the man looked up at him, he shuddered as all he could see were Kyojuro’s bright eyes fixated on him, not once having closed or even blinked. “If I ever see you again, you’re dead. Stay out of my way, and stay away from my family. I’ll know.”

With that, Kyojuro turned on his heel and left the alley, stepping back into the clear moonlight. As he took a calming breath, he grinned once more, ruffling his hair as he caught the eye of a stall owner. “Good evening, miss! Do you perhaps have anything for a tired wife who has just given birth to the most beautiful baby girl in the world?”

The lady, flustered by Kyojuro’s good looks and earnest words, forgot all about his dark expression as he walked out of the alley, dismissing it as her imagination. No one paid any mind to the man who went down the alley and didn’t return. Instead, he slunk off into the darkness, hands jittery and mind fogged over with fear.

Once Kyojuro found something for all three of you, he hurried back to his home. Greeting Tengen, whose eyes were mysteriously bloodshot, he smiled as you slept away in the bed. Sitting everything down, Tengen brought Kyojuro his daughter, unpacking the few things for his friend before wrinkling his nose.

“Your dad throw booze on you?” Snorting, Kyojuro took a deep breath, holding his daughter up and kissing her face.

“No. Some drunk in town thought he could badmouth my wife and child, so I showed him what would happen if he ever opened his mouth again.” His words were even, no anger in them, as if he were talking about the weather. Tengen blinked before grinning, clapping Kyojuro on the shoulder that didn’t have his daughter on it.

“Good on ya, tell me what he looks like and I’ll give him a warning, too. Can’t ever be too sure who’s watching, you know?” Tengen grinned, and felt his own anger inside him. He knew how possessive Kyojuro was over you, how he fawned over you, and especially how proud he was of you and now his new child as well.

He wasn’t surprised in the least, eagerly listening to the description of the drunk man who insulted you and his niece. Talking a bit more, Tengen took a bite of the dango Kyojuro brought home, wishing him a good night and then set out. Kyojuro smiled, relaxing and reassured that Tengen would find the man and also rough him up a bit.

Bringing his daughter to you, he set the baby down in her own blankets for tummy time, and quickly stripped himself down, tossing the laundry somewhere else where the smell of sake wouldn’t bother you. Grabbing some dango, he crawled into the blankets, giving another look to his child, before shaking you awake. “Want some sweets, my sweet?”

You laughed softly, not bothering to open your eyes. “Tengen gone?” Kyojuro hummed and you snuggled up to him, “I would love some sweets, maybe even a few kisses as well.” Your eyes cracked open a bit, admiring your husband’s broad shoulders and fit scarred chest.

The flame hashira smiled down at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “Of course, my flame. Anything for you, anything at all. All you need to do,” He kissed your nose, “Is ask.”