#i love how bad it sounds and i was initially going to put it on an ep that im working on

[xshimaeraxx]

okay ik that the fandom LOVES making logan the one who’s the cat-like mutant in the relationship and i LOVE that and it is so canon but like

hear me out here! catboy!! wade!!

a wade who was a mutant long before francis got his grubby little hands in him, wade who was a mutant but it wasnt crazy regenerative abilities or an inability to stay dead/immortality or super-human strength, but a wade who was (still is) a mutant who had the abilities of a fuckin’ cat

a wade who has semi-night vision, not entirely but good enough to help out on jobs; a wade who has lil pinprick pupils like a cat’s and who hisses damn near 24/7 on bad pain days (bc chronic pain-having wade has my entire heart and i will go to the grave w this hc alr); a wade who purrs when happy or in the middle of slicing someone’s head off during a job; a wade who has a cat’s heightened senses- hearing, sight, taste, smell, all of that; a wade who has a cat’s un-fuckin’-canny ability to jump from heights that would’ve killed a human and have at most a small, gone-in-a-day bruise; a wade who has tufts of kitty-cat fur on his elbows and on + behind his knees

and then francis comes along, and the torture happens, and he loses his looks, and then the fur grows back bc fuck but he’d thought he’d lost his og mutation when francis torture mcgee had triggered this new one, had lost the one thing that ness might still recognise him for,,,

and then the start of d&w happens, and during the birthday scene wade’s purring, happy, quietly (so quietly no one hears it half the time, and when they do they assume it’s the faulty heating of wade & al’s shitass apartment, but ness looks at him with a pleased, proud little smile when the sound starts back up after the others’ initial investigation for the source of the sound proves fruitless and it, he gets louder, purely for the way ness’s smile gets wider, prouder in a way that is purely, unabashedly so ness wade wants to go other and kiss her, right then n there) yes but he’s still purring like he hasn’t since pre-cancer-diagnosis him & ness (and also bc francis’s little angel-killer had found the sound annoying as all hell [bc wade also purrs to self-soothe bc I Say So)and so he’d rarely done so since, half out of new-born habit, half out of some primal, hard-learned fear he still hasn’t managed to completely shake, even years later)

and then the honda odyssey scene happens, and wade’s purring, purring, purring, loud and proud and rumbling and happy and he’s also hissing playfully at logan- a motion logan doesn’t notice due to how distracted he is putting his claws thru wade’s left thigh and christ, kittycat, how long’s it been since you had a good hookup for you to be THIS tense?- and logan only notices after wade’s pinned him and his minorly blood-soaked grin freezes; doesn’t drop, but freezes.

wade’s purr stutters a tad, doesn’t stop. he asks, licking the blood off of his cheek underneath his mask and for some reason logan’s sharp eyes follow what he can see of the movement underneath wade’s mask: what’s wrong, peanut, cat got your tongue?

are you- are you fuckin’ purring? asks logan, and the sound abruptly stops, and then deadpool’s stabbing him through the gut with not one word and then they’re fighting again, and while logan notes the moment to think about later, wade also doesn’t say another word other then excited/frustrated grunts and little “haha!”s for the next half hour, and for some reason that about takes up the majority of logan’s attention until he finally, finally, punches wade’s already-broken nose literally not even a millisecond after he’s broken it hard enough that it actually takes a few seconds for wade’s healing to kick in, and for some reason he feels strangely relived when wade lets out a muffled-by-blood ugh! foulplay, wolvie, foulpla-

logan interrupts him via stabbing wade and a like you don’t play just as foul as i do, bub, and wade stabs back in response with some quippy comment or another, and by then the fight’s back on, deadpool-typical quips and all.

like. when i say catboy wade, here, do you see my vision. do you see what i’m imagining. dO YOU SEE IT I SAY

[leyiorr]

i can't stop looking at her t-t-t-t, FACE!

mdni.

satoru gojo is doomed.

why is he doomed, you ask? well, put bluntly, you, his girlfriend of five months, are driving him absolutely crazy.

crazy is an understatement, actually. insane, mad, mental, unhinged, deranged, bonkers - whatever you want to call it. he's holding on by a thread; the thinly woven string known as sanity growing ever weaker as the days roll by and turn into weeks.

of course, he's only blaming you. you hadn't actually done anything wrong.

you're the first relationship satoru's had in his life, and he'd be damned if some inappropriate thoughts ruin his chances with the love of his life. he'd never been happier - dating you gave him the kind of happiness he thought only existed in movies; the kind of giddiness of a child in a candy store.

he was devoted to you in every way, shape and form - you are everything he's dreamed of and more.

more.

that's right, you were more.

recently, you were the devil's temptation personified.

surprisingly, even after twenty-odd years of being one of the most attractive guys around, and having women throw themselves at him like he's some kind of greek deity, satoru is a virgin. i'll repeat that, he is a virgin. a fact that only suguru knows. a fact that he's neglected to tell his girlfriend.

he may have a flirtatious personality and the ability to charm ninety percent of the human race with one of his thousand-kilowatt smiles, but in truth, he had never dated anyone. ever. let alone got his dick in a pussy.

so when he starts wanting to go further, he's not sure how to bring it up without sounding like a horndog.

it all started when you wore a sleek black dress to one of your dates. it clung to your figure, fabric wrapping shamelessly around your every curve and tickling your midthigh at its end. and if that wasn't bad enough, it had a plunging neckline, giving the world - satoru specifically - an eyeful of the assets god gifted you with. your boobs were practically spilling out of your dress, the light catching your cleavage as you held his arm. he could feel himself salivating like some sort of perv. how was he supposed to focus with aphrodite's personal creation hanging off his arm?

his eyes began to drift to the flesh of your chest more than he'd like to admit. all sorts of r-rated scenarios ran through his head and he dared to entertain every. single. one. he could do so much with them, tease them, spit on them, pinch them, suck on them, put his dick between them-

“satoru?”

his gaze snaps back to your face at record speed. you notice how he's chewing his bottom lip, flush creeping onto his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. his hands are clammy; there's suddenly too little oxygen in his room.

“did you listen to anything i said?” your arms fold beneath your bosom and satoru almost implodes.

what do you expect him to do? the necklace around your neck has his initial on it, and it hovers over your tits almost mockingly. if it snapped, the letter would fall right between the valley of your breasts-

“satoru!”

he's choking on his saliva, apologizing profusely as he encourages you to continue your story - though he hasn't heard shit over the blood pumping loudly in his ears.

it's a battle no, a war between his rationality and his desires and he doesn't know which is winning. his rationality wins when he's around you - he just sucks in a breath and thugs it out, no matter how much his dick shouts at him. but in private, he's letting the desires win as his fists himself to the thought of you, your lips, your ass; your boobs.

the first time he sees you in a bikini he has to take a breather before he can get into a game of beach volleyball with you and the group.

(and even then he was struggling. every time you jumped for the ball the only thing he was looking at was your tits.)

he should be neutered. effective immediately.

it drags out for so long that you finally notice, and force him to talk to you about why he's avoiding you, and if you'd done anything wrong. but all you get is:

“baby, i'm so sorry- you're so pretty and i can't help myself. i didn't know how to bring up that i wanted to take our relationship to the next step, you mean the world to me and i'd hate to make you uncomfortable-” he trips and stumbles over his words-

“...is that it?”

and his eyes bug out of his head as he stares at you. weeks, months of agony over this and all you have to say is 'is that it'?

he doesn't even have chance to respond; to process your words before you're popping the top button of your blouse.

yeah, satoru gojo is doomed.

[miraclelevel]

9/22/2022

[k-hotchoisan]

how to tame a brat tamer

<wooyoung x fem!reader>

where Wooyoung teaches his brat how to tame a brat at her request

genre/warnings: smut, pwp, one shot, brat taming her brat tamer, light use of whip, dom!Wooyoung lets reader play with him, WOOYOUNG IS TIED UP, teasing, unprotected sex, light bondage (from m to f), breeding, semi-rough sex, wooyoung is snarky and he teases reader, light whipping/slapping, shoving with foot, cumming in underwear, thigh whipping, this is just pure fucking filth.

a/n: I’ve been so down bad for Sylus from love & deep space….. & this fic is very loosely based on this card (pls rngesus let me get this card) so I felt like I should share with the class 😔 (Also dear fucking god Sylus. I’ve been so preoccupied with him that I’m slowly going deranged)

w/c: 2.8k

taglist here❤️

“Such a fuckin cute look you have on your face now.”

Wooyoung stares up at you, his thick lips pulled to a smirk, jet black strands of his curtain bangs falling to his face, his foxy eyes narrowed with taunt, and his white dress shirt down three buttons. 

“I don’t recall letting you speak, Jung Wooyoung”, you say disapprovingly, forcefully lifting his chin with the whip. 

Wooyoung’s smile only grows wider. He looks amused. 

“Can’t help it. You look cute when you’re trying to play with me like this.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, and you let the whip trail lightly down his chin, down his throat, to his collarbone, and you hear him groan slightly from the light touches of the leather piece. That’s giving you a burst of confidence at least. 

Unfortunately, you’re still internally gawking at the way Wooyoung has his hands tied behind his back with the bondage ropes he used on you, kneeling before you like a good boy. Even in this state, Wooyoung still looks so fucking good. 

When you put up the proposal of letting you brat tame him, Wooyoung had his eyebrow raised at your request. Initially, he almost jumps to decline your offer, but something at the back of his mind somehow convinced him to let you do it. Maybe it was the way you towered over him when you did it, in your pretty little short nightgown—that barely covered your bare pussy—you know Wooyoung can’t keep his eyes and hands off. Maybe it was the thought of Wooyoung wanting to try something new in the bedroom—and it sounded enticing to him. 

Of course, he showed you the ropes, teaching you the basics. And when he least expected it, you pounced on him. 

So now, he’s tied up, kneeling before you, smiling up at you. He thinks you’re so cute trying your best. 

You close the distance between the both of you, the whip back on his cheek once more, his head tilted back, eyes downcast on you, his smile not faltering. 

Well, that is, until you’re slapping his cheek repeatedly with the leather whip that his smile fades, and his brows furrow. His eyes grow sharper with irritation. 

His voice drops an octave. 

“I don’t think doing that is a smart move, sweetie. You’re gonna regret it.”

Suddenly you’re feeling more courageous that he’s unable to do anything to you, for now, at least. 

It’s your turn to smile back at him. He’s looking at you like a predator. 

Then you remove the whip. Using one hand, your fingers easily unbutton the rest of his dress shirt. You could just freely pull his shirt off now. 

But you opt not to, instead, your whip replaces your fingers, the soft leather trailing agonisingly slow from his abdomen up north. You hear him groan, and he jolts slightly when the leather grazes his clothed nipple. 

God, he’s getting so fucking hard from this. 

He looks at you intently, ignoring the tight erection tugging against his pants.

“Is this your way of flirting?” Wooyoung questions, his gaze playful, yet taunting. 

“Maybe. You’ve always known my favourite hobby is riling you up.”

Wooyoung’s small smile slowly grows into a smirk. “Of course, sweetie.”

Your body tingles with anticipation whenever he calls you that. It makes you subconsciously lick your lips. It makes you want to maybe obey him. It makes you want to want to go down on your knees for him, and let him do whatever he wants with you. But when your eyes rake over his chest heaving with weight under you as he tugs slightly against the taut ropes binding his wrists, you remember that at least for now, you’re in control.

Your finger trails up his jaw and your thumb strokes gently against his chin. You watch him take a deep breath while he shuts his eyes, letting your painfully slow and soft strokes send electricity down his spine and right to his cock. Then you finally shift your thumb to his bottom lip. He instinctively parts his lips as an invitation to slip your thumb in, but you don’t. You keep your thumb on his lip, rubbing, teasing him, knowing his eyes would flutter open and his eyes would reflect frustration when he doesn’t get his way. Was this the type of thing Wooyoung gets off from? Depriving you of what you wanted? You hated to admit it, but when it was your turn to take his role, it was undeniable that the appeal dangled over you like a sweet treat. 

The smile on your lips grows wider. You’re getting addicted to this feeling. 

“You look so fucking cute when you’re pouty like this, Jung Wooyoung, even when your cock is just begging to be let out.”

Fuck. Wooyoung really trained you a little too well.  

“It takes a brat to tame a brat”, he would say. Of course, who else could have been a more perfect fit for him than you? 

Wooyoung doesn’t reply to you. His panting is growing slightly heavier, his wrists being decorated with imprints from the ropes—a clear indication that he’s growing more antsy. He wants to pounce on you so fucking bad. His mind is flooded with the want to tie you up, to make sure he breaks you at his own sick pace, but undoubtedly, the way you’re treating him right now is making him grow so needy and desperate, and he fucking loves it. 

And when you stand up, looming over him, his heartbeat is loud in his ears. Your foot drags up his bare abdomen that peeked out of his unbuttoned shirt, watching him wince slightly at the touch and suck his teeth as your foot travels up his body, grazing his nipple before stopping just below his collarbone. 

His eyes are locked onto yours, entranced and anticipating your next move. 

Even though he has guesses about your next move, it still takes him by surprise.

With much force, you shove him with your foot, enough for him to tumble back and he falls back onto the floor. Your heart is racing, wondering if you’ve gone too far, ready to break the character when he remains still. But when you hear him mutter curses under his breath before he turns to you with a shit-eating smirk, you know you’re fucked in the best ways possible. 

You get onto the ground, climbing over Wooyoung, straddling his thighs, the wet patch staining his pants not going unnoticed by you. 

“I expected you to be rougher with me, sweetie. You know we both like it rough.”

A smack to his upper thighs with the whip, and you’re rewarded with a strained groan that passes his lips, his eyes roll back and shut slightly from the sudden impact, accompanying his jerk. 

“Is that rough enough for you, baby?” You ask, tone laced with condescension, your fingers catching his jaw, forcing him to face you. 

“Definitely took me by surprise, sweetie”, Wooyoung manages to reply, his eyes trailing down to your lips for a quick second, wetting his with his tongue. 

You lean in closer to him, letting your lips ghost over his, and Wooyoung’s breathing speeds up. 

He’s craving for touch—any touch from you, and his patience thins out even more when you pull back with a smile, knowing you denied what he wanted. 

You hear him cuss under his breath, one reflecting frustration. You know he’s turning restless. 

“Do you want me to touch you, Wooyoung?”

“You really should”, is his answer. 

You raise an eyebrow, another smack to his thighs making him shiver again.

“That’s not how you ask, babe”, you remind him. 

His stare bores a hole in your head, but you’re not relenting. You’re having a little too much fun. 

“Touch me, please”, he mutters. “Need you to touch me so fucking bad.”

The smile you’re so poorly suppressing feeds into your ego. But well…

“Wasn’t so hard was it?” You hum, settling the whip down beside you so you could let your hands wander across his body—his bare abdomen, his chest, his nipples, watching him squirm and sigh when you’d graze over them. 

Feeling kind, your fingers are back to his jaw—soft strokes to his bottom lip, prying them open with your thumb, before you lean in for a wet kiss. You shift slightly, making sure you’re seated just above his thick erection, his body reacting with a jerk while he gives into the kiss. 

He feels so fucking good against you like this. His kisses grow sloppy and desperate, wanting to taste every part of your mouth before you take it away from him again. 

You grind your hips against him, listening to him grunt against your lips every time his clothed cock is stimulated. 

In between kisses, he mutters through half-lidded eyes and with a low voice. 

“You’re not playing fair, sweetie. I’m warning you.”

You only smile against his lips, another thrust, which makes Wooyoung bite his tongue, trying to hold the feeling off. Unfortunately, he knows it’s hopeless when his tip is just being rubbed and grazed, over and over again. You pull your lips back, tilting his head back with your index finger, mimicking the orgasm that’s slowly washing over your partner, his cock’s soft pulses against your bare pussy, and you’ve shamelessly stained his trousers with your own glistening arousal at that feeling. 

Wooyoung nuzzles against your neck, trying to hide his thinning patience. 

“I think you’ve had your fill, sweetie. Now, be a good girl and untie me, please?” 

You know that’s not a good idea. Not when he’s sounding more feral by the second, despite the softness that remains in his voice. 

You free him from the ropes.

Wooyoung’s arms immediately wrap around your hips. He lifts you from your thighs, turning to the bed and dropping you onto the fluffy sheets. You watch with glazed eyes as he trap you with his legs on each side, then he rubs his wrists, seemingly to soothe the imprints. 

“Good job on your first attempt trying to brat tame me, baby”, he says, but you can’t tell if the compliment is genuine. 

You continue to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, the anticipation gliding through your veins. Wooyoung’s gaze has slightly turned dark, and the both of you know how unpredictable he can get. 

“But now it’s my turn to have fun, don’t you think?” Wooyoung asks rhetorically, removing his shirt off his shoulders, knowing his bare body has you on the verge of drooling in seconds. He forces you to watch him unbutton his pants, slightly sighing when the pants are off, and you can’t help but gasp at the sight—the fabric of his underwear wet and translucent—some of his cum stains both the inside and out of his underwear. But it’s clear that he’s still thick and hard, and ready for seconds. 

He places his finger between your breasts, and he lets it slowly trail down south. Even though you’re still covered by the nightgown, well, barely, it still sends sparks up your spine and goosebumps across your skin when he passes by your stomach, down to your pelvis, and he stops right at your pussy. 

“Oh, now that I’m untied and above you, suddenly you’re cowering?” He teases. “Where’s my bold baby gone to?”

His fingers slip under the opening of your shirt nightgown, and it’s taking everything in him to not just destroy you when he’s reminded you’re not wearing panties underneath. 

Wooyoung circles your clit slowly, rubbing and pressing against it from time to time, and it makes your breathing grow more shallow. You force yourself to keep your legs open, knowing fully well that he’d trained you to keep them open when he decides to play with your pussy.

“If I’d known you’d get this excited when you’re playing with me like this, I should let you do it often”, Wooyoung mutters, his free hand sliding the thin straps of your nightgown off your shoulders. He’s enjoying watching you squirm, the way you’re subtly clawing against the sheets, the way your thighs are trembling slightly from the pleasure.

“But there’s only so much patience I have.”

Every time your thighs are about to snap shut, Wooyoung holds them apart and punishes you by edging. It’s driving you nuts.

“No. Keep them open for me.”

You whine defiantly, your thighs resisting against his unmoving muscled arms. 

“I can’t take it. I wanna be fucked now”, you frown. 

“Then beg for it, sweetie”, Wooyoung instructs, his fingertips drawing slow and light circles, knowing it’s enough to edge you. 

“Good girls beg for what they want.” 

You had it coming, honestly, and despite all of that, you would do it all over again. You bite your lip. 

“Please”, you whimper. “Fuck me, make a mess out of me, do anything you want with me, Wooyoung.”

The smile that pulls on Wooyoung’s lips matches the overflowing lust that’s gleaming in his eyes. You’re reminded well who’s really in charge here, and it sends tingles down your spine. 

“Seems I really spoiled you rotten, hm?” Wooyoung taunts, lining up his cockhead and lowering to your pulsing hole. 

“You’re lucky I adore you-“

—and he pushes his cock into you, watching the way you gasp and the way your back arches slightly. 

“And a request to make a mess out of you? Gladly.”

He groans. 

“Fuck. Even when I just fucked you dumb the other night, your pussy is just so fucking warm and tight.” 

You blink back the tears, feeling his cock dragging along your walls, pleasure just shooting through every nerve when he’s stuffed you full. 

“Obviously it wasn’t enough, was it?” 

The glint in Wooyoung’s eyes grows more feral. 

“Playing cute with me even my cock is making you dumb huh?”

His hands grab both your wrists, pining them above you, rendering you completely helpless before him.

With that satisfaction, he pulls back, before plunging back into you, giving you little to adjust before he’s completely thrusting into you, over and over, listening and watching you choke on your moans, mess up your pretty mascara with your tears, feeling the way you’re forced to take Wooyoung’s cock raw in your pussy like his good girl, cream and slick just piling over at the base of his cock, some seeping past your spent folds. 

“Wooyo-“ your voice is strained—your thighs are twitching from the pleasure, your pussy feeling so perfectly abused by his fat dick. “It’s too much—“

“You begged for it, so fucking take it, sweetie”, he curtly reminds you, offhandedly admiring the way your tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you. 

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Jung Wooyoung”, your moans are pathetic and loud. The sounds of wet squelching and slapping make it all the more perverted, and boy, were you and Wooyoung eating it up. 

“I’m fucking cumming. Fuck! That feels so fucking good—“

Wooyoung’s free hand has your chin in his palm, forcing you to look up at him in your fucked out and giddy ecstasy. 

The knot snaps, and you completely fall apart with your orgasm rushing into your veins, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably around his cock and your vision turning white paired with your screams of Wooyoung’s name on your lips, over and over. 

His grip on your fingers loosens, because he drags your thighs towards him, making sure his cock goes impossibly further into your pussy, grunting at the way you’re pretty much choking his cock. 

“That’s it, baby. Ready to milk me out?”, he asks, feeling himself slowly reaching his high soon. 

He knows you’re twitching and crying, and all the more he adores fucking the ever loving shit out of you, because he stills himself, and makes sure your pussy takes in every single drop of his thick cum in you. 

Wooyoung catches his breath, his mind still hazy from the orgasm, and he slowly pulls out, the whines and sobs from you sounding like music to his ears while he watches his thick white leak out of your tight hole. 

When you’re back to sobbing, twitching and leaking mess that Wooyoung enjoys turning you into, he’s satisfied. 

He retrieves the ropes from the floor. 

“I thought it was real cute of you, sweetie, knowing how to get me hot and bothered, making me go on my knees for you”, Wooyoung adds, taking both your wrists. Through your teary vision, it doesn’t take you long realise he’s binding your wrists together with said rope. 

Oh, you’re so fucked. 

Wooyoung’s fingers creep under your chin, forcing your head to tilt up to meet his gaze which swarms with his twisted desires. 

 “I guess you need a reminder of who’s the real brat here, hm?”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @vic0921 @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @wlv-asteria @s-h-y-a @comicnerd557 or @kpopwrites @yuyusgirl @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @skteezcursed @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike

❤️ sylus bonus ❤️

[remuslupinslittleslut]

Poly!Marauders x Reader - First time

Poly!Marauders x Reader, it's her first time and they're all helping out. Also, it's so On Brand for James Potter to come in his pants while eating pussy. I love this man.

“So, you’re saying you’ve never… done it?” Sirius asks, looking at Y/N questioningly.

“Nice way to put it, Pads”, scolded Remus, reaching out to touch the cheek of their girlfriend.

“Uh, yeah, I guess”, she starts, “I mean, I’ve done… some stuff? But not, like, all of it?”

The boys share a look of… something new. Soon, three sets of hands are touching her, rubbing her thighs, arms, and sides.

“Do you… want to? With us?” Asks James, rubbing circles with his thumbs on her arms.

She’s playing with her hands in her lap, feeling her heart racing. Excitement started to take over the nervousness that had previously filled her body. She did want it, badly, but she was unsure of how to initiate, not knowing what was okay or how to best go about it.

“Yeah” she says, looking into James’ eyes, “Yeah, I want to.”

***

Not long after, she’s sitting against the headboard, back pressed against Sirius’ chest, lips locked with Remus and James’ lips kissing down her legs. They had promised to take the best of care of her, and she really could feel it, the love that encompassed her in this position. The arms of Sirius, wrapped around her waist, started to sneak under the fabric of her shirt, as Remus’ hands teased her nipples through the shirt.

“Baby, can I unbutton this?” Sirius asks from behind her, lips trailing kisses down her neck, leading to Remus receiving a moan in his mouth before she nods, telling the man behind her that yes he can.

Hands are running up her legs, rubbing at her thighs, sending shivers down her spine as her shirt finally comes undone, baring her tits for her little audience.

“So pretty, love”, murmurs Remus, sitting back and taking in the view.

James, too, leans up on his elbows to look at her, basking in her beauty, “Yeah babe, so pretty,” making her shy away from all the attention, trying to hide her face in Sirius’ hair.

“How’re you feeling, pretty girl?” Sirius asks her, reaching to grab at her pretty tits, feeling her arch her back against his chest.

“Uh huh, so good”, Y/N whines, feeling James’ hands creeping up her thighs, followed by his mouth, kissing, biting and nibbling at the skin. Her moans rise an octave as his hands reach the very top of her legs, fingers nudging her underwear.

“May I?” His glasses are completely askew and he’s looking up at her with wide eyes, shiny with anticipation, and when she nods he reaches all the way, rubbing at her clit through her panties, “How’s that feel baby?”

“Good, so good”, she’s getting whiny, the feeling of all three of them becoming overwhelming, “Remmy please, wanna feel you, kiss me?” And how could he ever say no to that? Leaning back down, he places one hand on her cheek, angling her face to be able to kiss her.

James taps her hips, indicating for her to lift so that he can pull her undies down, “Oh she’s so pretty”, he says, “Pretty little pussy… Pads, help me keep her legs open.” His friend complies, using his own legs to keep hers open, hands still running up and down her waist, sometimes coming up to grab at her tits.

Sploshy sounds fill the room as James’s lips stay locked against her wet pussy, his hips moving to rub himself against the mattress. Remus pulls away, again, “Do you like that, pretty girl? You like James eating your sweet cunt?” He asks, rubbing a thumb against her red and swollen lips, “I think you should put this pretty mouth to good use as well, don’t you?”

The question makes her blush a deep red, but she does think that so she nods, feeling that nervousness creep up again, but before she can think any more of it, Remus’ trousers and pants are off and he’s placing his hard, pink tipped cock right in her face. “Open up, baby”, he says, poking her lips with the head.

The taste is a bit strange, she thinks, salty and tangy, but not bad. She starts by licking around the tip, before opening up more to let him further in her mouth. At the same time, James’s fingers are working tirelessly against her clit, while his tongue licks around her hole, making her moan and whimper around Remus’ cock.

Remus has a firm hold around her neck, not really squeezing, just holding her in place as he lightly thrusts his hips, careful not to choke her. “So good, baby, such a sweet little mouth, yeah?” Her eyes open, looking up at him, “Yeah, you’re just made to take cock like this.”

In between her legs, James switches position, fingers plunging into her leaking hole, tongue rubbing circles on her sensitive bud. Her legs try to close, but Sirius’ legs keep her open for his friend, letting him feast on their girlfriend, while their other boyfriend fills her mouth. He can feel her getting closer, noticing how she gets more twitchy in the legs and her mouth turns slack around Remus. “So good, love, you can let go now, yeah just like that, let go, come all over James’ face, just like that, good girl”, Sirius is telling her to let go, and that with the praise sends her straight over the edge, juices flooding, covering James. Remus pulls out of her mouth, letting her breathe, and takes Sirius hand, bringing it to his cock. Watching their girl come, one of his boyfriends jerking his cock, Remus can’t do much but come, covering her chest in hot, white liquid.

“Jamie, please stop”, her hands go to his hair, pulling him off, “‘s too much, please.” He pulls away, face wet with her slick, and he looks sheepishly up at his three partners as they all notice the wet patch on his legs.

“Can you take more?” Asks Remus, coming down from his own orgasm. She nods, whimpering a simple yeah, “Good girl, then I think it’s about time Padfoot gets his turn with you, yeah?” Her eyes widen, but soon she’s turning in the lap of the aforementioned boy.

“Hi baby”, he says, finally facing her. Arms around her waist, holding her close

“Hey…”, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, smelling his hair, breathing it in.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good”, his hands reach down, grabbing her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly, “up a lil for me” he commands, and she raises herself up on her thighs, hovering over his lap. He frees himself from his pants, tugging himself a few times, “Allright, baby, now come down for me.” One hand on himself, the other on her hips, he aligns himself with her hole, letting her down, filling her up. They both moan at the intrusion, his eyes raising to look over her shoulder at their two boyfriends, eagerly watching the pair.

Sirius moves down a bit, laying down, letting her face stay in the place where his neck meets his shoulder, folding his legs and thrusting up into her. He winces as she bites his shoulder, in a desperate try not to scream out loud.

“Is this okay, baby?” He asks, warm hands rubbing her backside.

“Yeah, ‘s good, so good.” She feels like she’s on fire, her hole being perfectly stretched, g-spot consistently hit. It’s a new sensation, different from James’ fingers. When Sirius starts thrusting faster, holding onto her arse, practically splitting her in two, she goes into a very different headspace. It’s so good, so, so good, but also so so much and soon she’s coming, again, walls clamping down on Sirius’ cock, moans slipping from her mouth, stuck to her throat.

“Fuck, babe, you’re so good, so tight, love this little hole”, he’s, once again, whispering very dirty words in her ear, chasing his own orgasm. “Ah, huh, Siri, fuck, ah, please”, she’s whiny, moaning and whimpering, small hands clamping down on his upper arms, holding on for dear life.

“Ah that’s it, love, gonna come now, gonna fill you up”, and he does, and it’s amazing, yet another completely new sensation, sending her over the edge for a third time.

“Good job baby, took us all so well” “Yeah love, you did so well for us, gonna let you rest now”

“‘M gonna clean you up a lil, you just lay here though, such a good girl”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Any characters of your choosing, but how would some of the hsr characters act with a partner who loves physical touch but is too shy to initiate?

Argenti:

More then willing to initiate the physical contact if you were too shy to do so, after all it was the least he could do for you, and Argenti would do a lot for you without having to be asked.

‘All you are to do is ask my beloved rose.’ He says as he helps by gently guiding you into hugging him, smiling when you press yourself up against him and pressing your face into his chest.

‘I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’ Was your response and Argenti couldn’t help but chuckle as your thoughtfulness as he presses a kiss to your head.

‘No such thing.’ He says as he holds you against him as you both took this moment to indulge in the another. ‘I’d very much rather you express yourself however you see fit, as I’ll accept your love and affection in all it’s forms it may take because at the end of the day that love belongs to someone I love very dearly.’ He finishes and you couldn’t help but burrow your head into his neck.

‘You’re too good for me sometimes.’ You mutter against him as you felt him chuckle.

‘I can say the same for you, my beloved flower.’ Argenti replied. ‘It’s hard not to when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of hope and love for me, even in my most dire of times. Your touch alone puts me back together again and makes me stronger then ever.’ He adds as he feels you clinging onto him for dear life as he whispered in your ear to say;

‘So please don’t be dissuaded from ever touching me when it’s brought me nothing but the happiest of emotions.’

Blade:

Stays silent.

Will not move an inch.

He sees what you’re trying to do from the corner of his eyes, but won’t do anything unless you have well and truly given up on trying to initiate contact. And it isn’t until then does he huff indignantly and grabs one of your hands and puts it against one side of his face, holding it there as he stared at you with his ruby red eyes.

‘Was this what you were trying to do?’ He asks despite already knowing the answer.

‘I didn’t want you to feel as though you were pressured into to let me touch you solely because I’m your partner.’ You replied as you were about to pull your hand away from him, when you felt him tighten his grip on your hand. ‘Don’t you think I would’ve said something by now if I did?’ He rebutted with a raised brow and you felt a little silly.

Blade never failed in letting it be known if you were doing something he didn’t quite like. He didn’t need to say much but his silence followed by a certain look in his eye were more than enough to tell you that you’d better stop while you were ahead.

‘True.’ You muttered as you instinctively began stroking his cheek with your thumb, not realising that Blade was pushing more of himself into your hand, much like a cat would when scratched between the ears and humming in content. He looked cute as he did handsome in that moment where his face looked the closest it ever could to peaceful in a long time.

‘If it means anything, your touch is the least painful thing I’ve experienced in my life as far as I’m aware.’ Blade says, finally letting go of your wrist as you placed your other against the side of his face and began stroking the skin there. You then heard him groan in content, a sound of which filled you with both warmth and joy in knowing that your touch helps him find peace, even if it was a small and temporary amount, but still peace none the less.

Aventurine:

Bastard man straight up teases you for being too shy to hold his hand.

‘Hmm? Is someone too shy to even hold my hand? How devastating that must be for you.’ He’d say before grabbing your hand and pressing his palm against yours. ‘It’s as easy as this.’ He continues before intertwining his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand for added effect.

‘See? That wasn’t so bad was it?’ He asked teasingly, throughly taking enjoyment in all this, when deep down he loved nothing more than to feel you holding his hand at long last. ‘Nope, not at all.’ You replied, feeling your heart going a mile an hour when you felt him squeeze your hand, followed by the caress of his thumb against the back of your hand.

‘Then don’t be afraid to hold my hand in the future, I don’t bite but I’d think you would enjoy that a bit too much even if I did.’ He teases, which was followed by boisterous laughter.

Aventurine may act like he wasn’t phased at all by your touch, when in reality he was begging for more but didn’t feel as though he was deserving of asking for such a thing. He may talk a big game but is equally as hesitant to physical affection as you were for the exact same reasonings.

He silently encourages your need to touch him by doing things that suggested that he wanted it just as badly as you, seeing as how words failed him in moments where he’s wanting something he’s made himself believe he couldn’t have. After all in his own eyes aventurine was a loser, a coward, a fraud, a cheater unworthy of any ounce of kindness nor love but the moment he felt you hold him, his mind goes blank and all he can focus on was his you hands held him as though he were porcelain.

It was his favourite feeling and whenever he sees you hesitating in giving him that oasis from his own mind, he’s quick in making himself believe that you’ve realised that he wasn’t worth your affection, and tries to force you into giving it to him by teasing you and guiding your hands to where he needed to feel your touch most; which was his face.

Aventurine may not admit it out load but he can’t fathom living without your touch, he’d probably go mad but for now he’ll keep a hold of your hand for the remainder of the day.

[joeyb1989]

running home to your sweet nothings* - joe burrow

summary: after a frustrating and hard loss to the chiefs, joe only wants you.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, smuttttt, sad/anxious/frustrated joe, pet names

a/n: another fic from me? what is this? LMAOO no but i’ve had an idea to write a fic based on sweet nothing for a while and a request came in and i knew it was the right time. if this fic sounds like total brain rot im sorry. i wrote this while i have covid and i haven’t really left my room in three days😭😭 anyways, hope you all enjoy.

*i didn’t really read over this, so if there’s mistakes (or if it’s just bad😭) please ignore them*

You were snapped out of your focused state by Joe placing a small object on the coffee table. “Look what I found in my pocket,” Joe added context to his action.

Your gaze left your notebook and found his outfit, seeing him clad in a gray t-shirt, which showed off his muscles nicely, and black cargos, which he loved wearing this past offseason. You look down at the small object to see the pebble you and Joe found in the off-season. “Do you think it ever misses Columbus sometimes?” Joe asked, joining you on the couch.

Flashback to this past off-season

“The sunset looks so pretty,” you smiled, taking a picture with your digital camera.

“You look so pretty,” Joe wrapped his arms around your waist from behind pressing a kiss to your cheek, earning a blush from you. “What’re you taking pictures of, sweetheart?”

You and Joe traveled to Columbus this weekend for his friend’s wedding a few days ago. You two decided to rent an Airbnb for the rest of the week to get in one last vacation before the season started.

“Those pebbles down there,” you said, pointing to two pebbles on the ground. One was an orangish-red color while the other was an almost-purple color – both Joe's and your favorite colors. “It’s like they represent us. They’re the only colorful ones.”

“How ‘bout we keep them?” Joe smiled as he picked the two up, putting the orange one in his cargo pants pocket, while handing you the other.

End of flashback

“Maybe,” you shrugged, “I thought we lost yours.”

“Yeah, me too. Yours is still in your memory box, right?” Joe asked.

“Mhm, we need to figure out what to do with them,” you sighed, “I don’t even remember why we took them home.”

“I don’t think there was a reason, baby,” Joe chuckled as you set your notebook on the coffee table, giving your full attention to him, “It just felt right.”

“I’ll put mine in your memory box before I leave,” Joe said, laying his head on your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist, “I wanna get my cuddles in right now.”

Even though Joe had this big male bravado out on the field, he was a total softie with you; which you loved. You loved how much comfort he found in cuddling with you, just like the comfort you found in cuddling with him.

“Nothing is bothering you, is there?” you asked. Joe would never say no to cuddling, but you knew that when he initiated it, something was going on in his head.

“Can I not just want to cuddle with my fiance?” Joe asked playfully.

“No, you can. But I just know that there’s probably something going on up there,” you said, running your thumb over his forehead.

“Just nerves, babe,” Joe sighed, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

Joe hated talking about his worries with anyone. The only exception was you, even if it did take a while for you to get it out of him. There were many times during his knee and wrist rehab when he would shut you out and keep all his fears trapped inside, but the two of you finally moved past that.

“Let me in,” you soothed, lightly scratching his scalp.

Joe sighed again before craning his neck to lock eyes with you. “The game tomorrow. I mean you were there last week, you saw how we all played like dog shit. I just… we can’t afford to play like that again. I can’t afford to play like that again. I know that we’ve improved this week at practice, but all of this outside noise doesn't help.”

“Joe,” you whispered while rubbing his back. It killed you to see him so worried about football. Football has been his life since he was a kid.

“I know I shouldn't worry about what people think… but I can’t take it sometimes. I know who I am. I know what the team is. I don’t get why we can’t put it together on the field. And those guys… it’s always hard to play them. I just… I’m tired of everyone’s opinions about me,” Joe expressed, undefeated.

The vulnerability and uncertainty in Joe’s words shock you to your core. Usually, Joe wouldn't care who was talking about him or what they were saying, but since the loss to the Patriots, he’s been very doubtful of himself.

“Baby,” you began, caressing his head, “I hate seeing you like this. You know why?”

“Why?” Joe whispered against your chest

“Because I know who you are and you know who you are. I hate when these middle-aged, couch potatoes of men get you down on yourself. You are Joe Burrow. You are a national champion, first draft pick, and one of the top quarterbacks in the league. But most importantly, you are Joe Burrow, the same guy that always gets back up when he’s down, the same guy that can do anything puts his mind to, and the same guy that always goes above and beyond everyone’s expectations.”

Joe sat up before bringing you into a hug, “Thank you, baby. It’s good to know that you’ll always be here even when the league gets tired of me.”

Ever since the two of you started dating Joe’s rookie year, you have always been there for him. You guys were just dating for a month when he injured his knee, but you made sure that you came over every day, even though you spent the night most of the time, to be there for him. You quickly fell in love with him after seeing how dedicated he is to everything in his life. He fell in love with you after seeing how caring and passionate you are about everything. You’re always there to hold him, comfort him, whisper sweet nothings to him, or give him endless pep talks after a hard loss or just a frustrating day of practice. He always found himself running home to you and your sweet nothings.

“What have you been working on today?” Joe asked, looking at your notebook on the coffee table.

“Just a little something,” you smiled, “you can read it if you want. I mean, it is about you.” One of your favorite hobbies was writing poems. It all started in college when you took a poem-writing class, and you just never stopped. Joe loved it about you. He’s read every poem that you have ever written. He always compliments you, it happens all the time. He loves them even more when he is your muse, though.

You watched as a smile curled on his face as he read your written words. “What a mind,” he said, kissing your forehead repeatedly, causing giggles to spill from your mouth. You eventually pulled his face down so that your lips would meet. The kiss quickly heated up as he moved you into his lap, his crotch under yours.

“Mmm, Joe,” you whimpered as his lips found the sweet spot behind your ear, lightly nipping at the skin. “Don’t mark me up too bad, baby.”

“No promises, sweetheart. Gotta let everyone in Kansas City know that you’re mine,” Joe growled.

Joe groaned as you started grinding your hips against his, feeling hardness below you. His hands went under your flimsy t-shirt as your lips found his again, Joe pulled away as he lifted it over your head. His eyes darted to your perky breasts – supported by an orange, lacy push-up bra. “Holy shit,” Joe said breathlessly, “I swear to God, you get more and more beautiful every day.” He unclasped your bra, watching it fall off your chest before attaching his mouth to your left breast, swirling his tongue around your hard nipple.

“Baby,” you moaned as his hand gave your other breast a hard squeeze before moving his mouth to it and his hand to the other. “Joe, I need you inside me. Right now.”

“You’re awfully needy, aren't you,” Joe smirked, but quickly whipped his shirt off before unbuttoning your jean shorts, pulling them and your panties down at the same time. You reached down and hooked your fingers in his waistband, prompting him to lift his hips to give you easier access to pull down his boxers and shorts. Joe caught a glance at the clock, knowing he had to leave soon to catch his flight to Kansas City. “Baby, we gotta be quick, ‘kay?”

You nodded, giving his cock a few slow pumps before lining it up with your slick entrance, both of you moaning at the fullness. You set a fast pace snapping your hips into Joe’s, making him groan in pleasure. Joe was never loud in bed, except for when you rode him. He loved watching you move on him, your boobs bouncing with every move while chasing your pleasure with his dick.

“Mm, Y/n,” Joe whimpered into your ear, making you feel hot all over, “Just like that baby. Making me feel so fucking good with that tight pussy.”

“Joe,” you whimpered a few minutes later, slowing your pace as your legs got tired. Joe immediately understood you by your body language and began helping you move on him.

“Shit, baby,” you moaned as he continued to move you, but started to buck his hips up into yours and take one of your nipples into his mouth.

Joe knew you were getting close to release as your walls squeezed around him. “Come on baby, make yourself feel good,” Joe panted.

That was all the motivation you needed to grab onto the back of the couch for leverage and start bouncing on his cock, chasing your own pleasure while making Joe feel good too.

“Shit, that’s it. That’s my fucking girl,” Joe moaned as his cock twitched inside you.

“Joe- I’m-” you began before he bucked his hips into yours, hitting your g-spot. “Oh my god-”

“You like that?” Joe teased as he did it again, this time harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Joe!” you screamed as your orgasm washed over you. 

A few more thrusts later, you felt Joe empty his load into you, your still-spasming walls milking every last drop of him. He pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead. “You did so good, baby,” Joe panted, “Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “That was intense, though”

“I think I passed out for a minute,” Joe chuckled.

As you two caught your breaths while whispering sweet nothings into each others’ ears, you almost didn’t notice Joe’s phone ringing.

“Shit,” Joe murmured as you handed it to him.

“Hey man, are you… going to the game?” a man teased on the other side of the line

“Yeah sorry, I… wanted to get one last workout in and lost track of time. I’ll be there soon, Tee.”

“Workout?” you teased as you wiggled your eyebrows.

“Well… many calories were burned,” Joe smirked, lifting you off his cock, both of you hissing at the sensation. Joe walked into the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with paper towels to clean you up.

After cleaning you up, getting you dressed, cleaning himself up, and getting himself dressed, Joe grabbed his bags and loaded the car up with them.

“Be careful on your flight, okay?” Joe said, wrapping his arms around your waist as your arms went around his neck.

“I will, don’t worry about me,” you smiled, ruffling his hair before fixing it.

“I always worry about you, you know that,” Joe whispered against your lips.

“I know,” you stated, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? If you need anything, call me. I’m just a phone call away, baby.”

“I know,” Joe said, kissing your neck.

“Baby,” you giggled, “you gotta go.”

“Okay, okay. Didn’t realize I marked you up that much. My bad, babe,” Joe said, lightly tracing the purple marks from him on your neck.

“It’s okay, I’m used to it by now,” you smiled, secretly liking it that Joe always marked you up. It felt protective like he needed other people to know that you're already spoken for. “I love you so much, Joe. No matter what happens tomorrow, I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, Y/n,” Joe said, wrapping you into a warm hug, “Call me when you land, okay?”

“I will,” you said as you pulled him in for one last kiss before he drove off to the stadium.

The next day - Arrowhead Stadium

As you sat in the stands with Joe’s parents, you started to grow more and more anxious as you waited for the game to start; especially after what Joe was going through last night.

Flashback to last night - Kansas City, Missouri

Joe: Baby, are you busy?

You: No, of course not. Are you okay?

Joe: I need you right now.

You: Okay, I'm here, Joey. Do you want to call or meet me somewhere?

You frowned as you saw that Joe left you on delivered for five minutes. He was usually a fast-responder, so you thought about calling him to check on him. Just when your finger was going to hit his contact name, there was a knock at your hotel door. You opened the door, revealing your fiance with red and puffy eyes. “Hey baby,” Joe sniffed but tried to smile.

“Aww, come here,” you whispered as you pulled him in for a hug after he closed the door. He immediately melted into your touch, his face burying into your neck as his sobs filled the room. “Shhh, I’m here. I’m always here, let it out,” you whispered into his ear, while you rubbed his back.

“I’m so scared, baby,” Joe sniffled, his arms holding you so tight like you were gonna disappear if he didn't.

“I’m here, you’re safe with me,” you soothed.

A few minutes later, Joe’s crying slowed down. “You wanna sit down?” you asked before he nodded. You led him over to your bed, and he pulled you into his lap once you two sat down.

“Just being here… it’s got me freaking out. I just need you.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked with soft eyes.

“Same stuff we talked about at home, there’s nothing else you could say to make me feel better than you already have. Can you just hold me?” Joe sniffled

“Of course,” you sadly smiled, laying down and pulling him onto your chest. As his crying picked up again, you had to fight your own tears, hating that he felt like this and there was nothing you could do to help.

End of flashback

Little did you know, just being there for him made all the difference. Joe woke up in his hotel room ready for the game, feeling confident in himself and his team. When you saw him before the game, it was like total whiplash but you were happy to see him ready for the game.

Your entire mood flipped once the game started. The entire team’s demeanor had flipped from what it was a week ago. A team that once played unsure and scared was now a major threat to the Super Bowl champs; even if it was a close game.

The 4th quarter had you fiddling with your engagement ring and chewing your nails out of nerves. Even though the Bengals were still winning, the Chiefs only needed one field goal to win. Tensions rose even more when Joe had to pull Ja’marr away from the ref.

You grabbed Robin’s hand as you saw the Chiefs kicker walk onto the field. You covered your eyes as he kicked. You heard Chiefs fans around you go wild, knowing what had just happened. When you opened your eyes, you saw Joe slamming his helmet on the ground knowing how frustrated he had to be.

——

The three of you met him down at the locker room. Your heart dropped when you saw the look on his face. He looked so upset. Usually after hard losses, Joe wouldn't hug anyone for long, including you; and that was no different today. He hugged his parents both at once before locking eyes with you. “Be safe on your way home. I love you,” Joe kissed your forehead before bringing you in for a brief hug.

“Yeah, this one definitely hurt him…” you thought to yourself.

Later that night - Cincinnati, Ohio

Your plane landed a lot earlier than Joe’s did, allowing you time to clean the messy house. You were also trying to mentally prepare yourself for him to shut you out like he usually did after a hard loss. You understood that he needed time to process his emotions by himself, but it always hurt you that he dealt with it by himself first.

You were putting some dishes in the cabinet from the dishwasher when you heard Joe come into the house from the garage. You turned your neck to give him a soft smile, fully expecting him to go up into his office for a couple of hours. Instead, he dropped his bags on the floor and rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I was an ass earlier,” Joe whispered, “Have you eaten anything?”

“You weren't an ass, you were frustrated… and that’s okay. And yeah, I ate at the stadium earlier,” you replied, “Have you?”

“No, but I’m not that hungry. Can we just go to bed?” Joe asked, his large hands rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you softly smiled, leading him up to your shared bedroom, watching him strip out of his clothes once you two got up there. You picked out a matching set of satin pajamas and crawled into bed, Joe immediately cuddling up to you.

A few minutes of silence went by before Joe spoke up. “I’m sorry you went so far for a total shit show,” he mumbled.

“It wasn't a shit show,” you soothed, running your hands through his frosted tips, “Some terrible calls, but all of you played your heart out on that field. I know that you're frustrated, though and I’m sorry.”

“I just… cannot take it anymore, Y/n,” Joe sighed, “All of these reporters I think are trying to deconstruct my soul. All they want to do is make money off of my awful playing. I’m trying so hard, and all anyone is saying is that I should be doing more. You’re the only one that I can tell this to… but I think I’m just too soft for all of it. I’m just a guy wanting to play football. I understand it’s their job to talk about me as much as it’s my job to win a game, but I’m just so tired of it.”

“You’re the only one who doesn't want more from me. All you’ve ever wanted from me was just… sweet nothings,” Joe smiled. Even if the world was ending, or if everyone was busy with something else, all he needed was you. You were his home, you were his peace, you were his heart. Even in the awful football world where everyone was pushing and shoving, he had you to keep him grounded; and that was perfect for him.

You felt Joe’s body slightly relax after he told you how he felt. “You already go above and beyond for me,” you smiled, “Those reporters will see exactly who you are now, though. I think that game awoke something in you.”

“I’m sick of us being the underdogs. That all changes next week, that's a promise, sweetheart,” Joe smirked.

“You need to get something else off your chest?” you asked, “You still feel pretty tense.”

“No, I’ve got it all out. I do know one way I can get the rest of it out,” Joe smirked.

“How’s that?” you teased, playing innocent.

“Let me show you,” Joe whispered into your ear before he unbuttoned your pajama shirt, and kissed your body.

“Joe, don’t you think I should show you?” you asked

“Mm mm. You already do enough for me,” Joe smirked, taking one of your boobs into his mouth while he teased the other with his agile fingers.

——

Several moments later, after you and Joe both got each other off with your mouths, you found yourself below Joe, anticipating his thick cock to fill you up. “Please, baby,” you whined as he teased your entrance with his tip.

“Please what?” Joe smirked

“Please fuck me,” you breathlessly said

“Okay,” Joe smirked nonchalantly, pushing into you, making you gasp.

Joe set a relentless pace, you were moving up the bed more and more with each rough thrust. “God, baby, you feel so good,” Joe moaned before he leaned down and kissed you.

“Joe,” you moaned, “harder. Fuck me harder.”

“You. are. so. fucking. hot.” Joe said, punctuating each word with a thrust that was rougher than the last.

“Joey, right there,” you moaned as one particular thrust grazed your g-spot.

“So tight baby,” Joe whimpered, burying his head into your neck, as he, somehow, picked up the pace.

“Babe- I’m not gonna last long,” you whimpered, your nails scratching his back.

“That’s okay, just let yourself feel good,” Joe hissed.

A few thrusts later, you felt the rubber band in your belly begging to snap, “I’m- gonna cum Joe” you moaned.

“Cum on my cock, I wanna feel you,” Joe grunted.

“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you.

“Baby- I’m-” Joe said as his high washed over him, leaving him grunting and moaning into your ear.

After a few minutes of catching your breaths, Joe pulled out and pulled you into his chest. “I love you, Y/n”

“I love you more,” you smiled.

“That’s not fucking possible, but okay,” Joe chuckled, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can't believe I’m marrying the love of my life in seven months,” you chuckled out of disbelief.

“I’ve been waiting for that moment since the first time I laid eyes on you,” Joe smiled. “Thank you for loving the parts of me that aren't easy to love,” he said with every drop of love in his eyes, “Like my smartass attitude and my nerves.”

“It’s a pleasure to love them,” you whispered before planting a kiss on his lips, “It’s a pleasure to get to love you.”

——

request:

[onlyrains]

𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂 thing | 𝓵𝓱𝓼

relationship is scary; what if your partner is too tall for you to kiss them?

“morning…?” you greeted confusedly at your boyfriend in your kitchen when you just freshly out of a shower.

“morning—you finished already?” his wide back still facing you, unbothered.

yesterday, he called and said he was gonna take you two to have brunch somewhere. but here he was, busy in your kitchen with sleeves rolled up to his firm elbow.

a chopping sound filled the room as you approached him. “aren’t we going somewhere, hee?”

he dropped his knife and spun quickly. “god, ’m sorry, i forgot to tell you. it's just… i watched some recipe videos last night and i think i’m going to try that out today…” his voice disappeared at the end. “is it okay…?”

you gasped. “seriously?” you were genuinely surprised. he was never show an interest in cooking before and preferred to just take a delivery or going out if you both were feeling it.

so today was the first time and you believed it will be written in history.

you glanced at his scattered groceries on the counter. “it is okay, boo. it's even better that you are one who cooks for me. wow.” you give him a wide smile then cupped his face.

he scratched his head, flustered when his favorite pet name came out. “we still could go if this fail, you know. i’m not sure either,”

you chuckled. “have some trust in yourself, can't you?” you tiptoed, tried to give him a peck on the lips but you kissed his chin instead.

you couldn’t reach his lips. that was a new fact for you too. you just realized he was always crouched down or the one who initiate a kiss. you almost hit your own head, couldn’t believe you missed such a crucial thing in your relationship.

he was laughing his ass off when he saw you pout and refused to see his face by hiding it on his chest, embarrassed.

still chuckling, he hugged you and rubbed your back, assuring. “it's okay, baby. it's cute.” actually, he also just noticed how your height just fell around his chest, not even his neck, not even his shoulder.

how could he not noticed his dear girlfriend is so tiny? well, he knew you were smaller than him, but he didn't know that you were basically tiny? even when he hugged you like now, your figure was completely disappear in his body. how could he not noticed that earlier? oh, maybe because he was too busy control his composure everytime he's around you, right?

“don’t mock me.” you mumbled.

“eh? i’m not? why do i have to mock about it? it's so cute, baby, trust me i love it.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “i can't. you can be childish—”

“says a child—AW! baby, your pinches is someth—”

“but i’m not a child!” you sulked.

“okay, okay.” he grabbed both of your hands in his. “from now on, i’m going to love you like my own child, baby.” he kissed top of your head ran around the kitchen as you chased him.

he was glad he canceled the plans for brunch at a fancy restaurant he found a few days ago. otherwise, he wouldn’t been able to enjoy this stupid moment with you after a week of non-stop working. he was thankful your laugh could literally heal his mind and soul to stay sane.

the brunch he promised was still happened tho it would be more realistic to call it a lunch. thanks to him for always bring your height up every chance he got. don’t get it wrong tho, it wasn’t a bad thing. he loved it, he really did.

it gave him an instant ego boost whenever he noticed you need to looking up fully when you look into his eyes. even sometimes, it made him thinking about the other thing that might put him in an advantageous position.

you were still sat in your dining table when he suddenly towering you after doing the dishes.

you tilted your head with anticipation. “what?”

“nothing.” a smug smile appeared on his lips.

“still haven't giving up?” you asked then stood up on your chair. now you were the one towering him. “what now?”

he wrapped his arms in your waist. “it's nothing, really.”

you rested your hand on his shoulder and finally pecked his lips in a sudden move. you felt his arms tensed up in your waist.

“baby, that's dangerous, y'know.” he whined, his voice low.

you smirked. maybe you both have a same thought today.

taglist [open]: @llvrhee

[primofate]

TW: death, angst

Recently thinking of scenarios.

How do I explain it.

You feel as if this person is more important to them than you are, and in some senses maybe they are.

Klee to Albedo

Lynette and Freminet to Lyney

Teucer to Tartaglia

And it doesn't always have to be a sibling thing.

Jean to Diluc?

Sigewinne to Neuvillette/Wriothesley?

And so imagine if in a life or death situation only one of you could come out alive.

You vs that person.

Imagine you look at Klee, who is oblivious to the situation and tell her "...Klee, I'll handle this. You can go first, okay?"

Imagine lying and telling Lynette and Freminet there's three submarine pods left and that they should take the first two and meet Lyney at the surface.

Imagine seeing abyss lectors approaching from the distance, swift and with purpose. Imagine turning to Teucer and telling him you'll race him home, and that you'll give him a head start.

Then Albedo, who receives Klees worried look with confusion. "What's happened, Klee?" And her who replies "...Y/N said they would catch up, but it's been ages...We were getting chased by some bad people..." Albedo, who tracks Klee's steps back... who should be happy that you had chosen to protect his sister...but could only feel sick that you had to sacrifice yourself.

Then Lyney, who waits at the surface for you with Lynette and Freminet. Waits. And waits. And waits. And-- "Were there really three submarine pods...?" He whispers and the other two could not reply. "Lynette. Freminet." His voice starts to rattle a little as he slowly turns his head to look at his siblings, eyes starting to water. "Were there really three submarine pods?" He repeats. The other two still do not reply, only giving a look of doubt as an answer. So they wait. And wait. And wait... Why? Lyney thinks. Why does it still hurt so bad even when his family was safe and sound right here? In fact, it seemed to hurt even worse, knowing that you knew he loved his siblings with all his heart.

Then Tartaglia, who had been at home waiting for the two of you, laughing at the panting Teucer who explained the race home. Tartaglia comes to the door, wholly expecting you to just be a few paces behind but instead sees no sign of you "...Hm, how much of a head start did Y/N give you, Teucer?" He laughs and the young boy scratches his head. "I don't know... I didn't really look back," There's a flash of worry in Tartaglia's eyes, they decide to wait a bit more. There's a deep feeling of dread in the pit of Tartaglia's stomach when he finally decides to track you down...where the snow is painted red. Perhaps it takes a moment for him to realize what happened, and the sacrifice you so painfully made. That's how much you loved him, he realized. To protect his family and to give up your life. The sorrow and the rage build in his chest. It's overwhelmingly blinding. The whole world deserves to burn for giving him this cruel fate.

That type of scenario...I don't think I can really adequately put it into words.

The feeling of initial happiness that someone you love is safe and sound...shattered by the revelation that the other had to be sacrificed. And then cue a flashback of all the fun times you and him had.

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[kazumist]

STUPID CUPID .ᐟ

✩ — in which you thought cupid was stupid for making you fall for a guy like wriothesley.

✩ — wriothesley x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 753 (woah). reader is down bad for wrio LOL theyre so me fr. reblogs are very much appreciated !!

you never found wriothesley attractive.

well, that was before, at least. now, you’re currently undergoing a love crisis because how and when did he even become so attractive in your eyes?

since when did wriothesley look so good in rolled up sleeves? (one of the rare times where you’re thankful that the uniform has long sleeves, really.) since when did wriothesley look good in fitted clothes? since when did his chuckle start replaying in your head at random times during the day? and archons, since when did you even start liking the way he says your name?

just when did wriothesley start to become your type?

a few months ago, you didn’t even spare him a glance when it wasn’t needed. yet now, here you are, most probably on the brink of losing your sanity just because of a guy who you’re 100% sure doesn’t even think of you the same way.

you don’t share that many conversations with him, but when you do, it feels like you are floating. maybe it was simply because of how good his voice sounds, or maybe it was because you’re actually talking to him—who knows?

the words that your friends had said before started to echo in your head, “you know, when you’re in love, you’ll feel like your dreaming every day.” you didn’t believe them at first, of course; it just sounded impossible for you. but the tables just had to turn on you, didn’t they?

“as i was saying, i think it’s best if we take another approach to doing this project—are you okay?”

oh shit. this just proves their point even more, you completely forgot you were in the middle of talking and planning about your project with wriothesley because you were thinking about him! 

“huh? oh yeah, don’t worry about it.”

he nods in acknowledgement and continued to voice out his thoughts and archons, you were so close to melting. no way in celestia that even you even find him attractive as he is explaining his ideas, right?

right?

-

who knew that a project could bring two people together?

you managed to find out all sorts of things about wriothesley. a few of those would be: he has a little sister named sigewinne and he lets her style his hair whenever he’s at home, he usually does morning walks during the weekends to watch the sunrise, he really likes drinking tea and doesn’t like talking too much because his throat becomes too dry for his liking, there’s also—

yep, you’re falling deeper than you initially thought.

-

stupid, stupid cupid!

cupid must’ve been stupid. there’s no other explanation for it. because why did you just have to fall for a guy like wriothesley? wriothesley, who’s way out of your league. who you’re positively sure doesn’t like you back (and has no plans on doing so). wriothesley, who wasn’t even your type yet, here you are, going crazy over him!

just why did you have to fall for wriothesley who's… currently walking towards you right now with a bouquet of tulips in hand?

“what’s with the tulips?” you asked him.

you didn’t have to be a genius to know what tulips symbolized—love and happiness is what they mostly meant.

“are you going to give them to sigewinne?” you followed up on your last question. “ah, they’re actually for you," he replies, keeping his eyes on the bouquet in his hands and refusing to look you in the eyes instead.

wait.

did he just say they were for you?

“huh? for me?”

he silently handed you the said bouquet and proceeded to put his hands in his pockets. there, you noticed a little note attached.

i love watching the sun rise, but i’ll love it more if i get to watch it with you.

“if you don’t feel the same, it’s completely fine with me. i just wanted to let you know that i hold romantic feelings for you and—" he started to ramble, which is very out of character of him since you’re well aware that he doesn’t like to talk too much.

you didn’t believe everything at first. wriothesley suddenly giving you a bouquet of tulips was already unbelievable enough for you, but to read this note that was obviously written by him? you’re probably just dreaming, right? yeah, that must be it. maybe you just fell asleep, and now you’re dreaming of this whole thing—

“i’d like to watch the sun rise with you as well.”

maybe cupid wasn’t stupid after all.

tagging: @ryuryuryuyurboat, @oveloof, and @yinyinggie <3

[wannabelife]

hii can you do a seungcheol smut of him getting horny but since you guys never had sex together he doesn't know how to initiate it?

warnings: not much actually, mention of old bad experiences, kissing, biting, cussing

------------- minors do not interact ------------ ✂️

the last thing seungcheol wants is to scare you. you've been together for a few months now, and he's been trying his best not to sport a hard on every time you kiss. last time you straddled over his lap, he couldn't help the gasp he let out in your mouth when your core met his. your action stopped, you turning shily right after, and since then, he's been trying to be more careful.

this time weren't different, sweet innocent kisses that suddenly turned into heated ones when your tongues came together. his hands pressing you close to him as yours tug his locks. he carresses up your sides, his fingers getting a bit of bare skin under your shirt before you finish the kiss biting his lower lip.

you mindless sneak to his neck, so used to rest there and dive in his scent, your lips and hot breath hitting his skin as you peck around that area as well as soft love bites, you cant help it.

seungcheol needs some time to adjust, his eyes staying shut for a while, the hard breath pace not going unnoticed by you as you stare back at him with a smile. by the time he opens his eyes, you're running your fingers through his long hair.

"hm... sorry" he says, taking a small step back but not leaving his hands from your body.

"what? why?" you suddenly grow confused and worried about why he's apologizing.

you pull him back by the oversized sweater he's wearing, making your lips clash again in a hurried peck. "why are you apologizing?" you ask, your lips touching still as you can't wait the answer to kiss him again. he can't help the gasp this time around, in between the messy, sloppy kiss you share.

"you're going to drive me insane" he says, pulling just enough to put the words out before caging your lips again. seungcheol can start to feel his jeans tightening, the growing bulge begging to be noticed. he had to gather all the rational in him to stop "babe... babe" he says, breaking the kiss, your little chase after his mouth is the cutest and weakest thing he's ever seen.

"i know we haven't had sex yet, i dont want to scare you. and do it in your pace, whenever you're ready" he says softly as he hands your face, cupping your cheeks, his thumb caressing your skin there.

"do you wanna stop?" you ask. it's such a simple question, that should have an ease answer. you didn't mean to push him but he can't help but feel this way. you both trust each so much and he wants it to be as you like. does he wanna stop? oh gosh, of course not, he dreams and daydreams about you and cant wait to have you entirely and fully naked for himself, to taste you for the first time, to fuck you, to hear your sweet sounds for the first, for and because of him, he wants it more than anyone else. but he needs you to want it just as much as him, and to be comfortable to give him such vulnerability and space of one's body.

"do you want me to stop?" it's all he can say back.

"i trust you" you wanted so bad but something about the bad and small experience you had before makes you a bit scared. you know now its different because it has trust, commitment and communication. all your other partners wanted was for you to be their pleasing toy, seungcheol cares for you and your pleasure.

"im glad you do. i trust you too" he's the one to peck you this time.

"im sure. i need you to fuck me, cheol"

his vision go red and his whole body heatens "fucking hell, you're so hot. say that again"

your eyes search for his, the confidence growing inside you "i want you to fuck me, please" you say it again and he gladly will.

[moonstruckme]

Hiii my pookie wookie lovey dovie

can you please do a fic about....

- Remus and reader have been dating for maybe seven or so months,😚

- and reader hasn't really wanted to have sex and remus totally respected that🤜🏻🤛🏻

- I until she's like "I wanna have sex"❤️‍🔥

- they do it, it's the best thing in the world, soft but hard blah blah blah🥹

- but then when they finish she goes to put on her clothes 👕

- and remus is like "hold up what's happening why is she getting up??"😶

- hes like where you going 👀

- she's like "what do you mean?"😃

- she then explains that with her ex there wasn't really such thing as "aftercare"😭

- and it wasn't really like she was in a bad relationship it was just..... Mid?😩

- the ex, he was fine but he never asked her what she wanted when it came to sex and didn't really ask her and she never actually has had an orgasm activated by the dicks👹 (until him obvi)

-blah blah blah mega fluff💕

Thanks my snookums sweetie-pie baby <3

cw: mature themes, mdni please

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 661 words

Remus’ breaths are synced with yours, slowing as you both come back down and he rolls off you onto the bed. Your pleasure is spilled like warm honey across the sheets. The sounds you made echo in his head, at first restrained but increasingly candid, Remus’ own body responding in kind. 

He hadn’t minded your temperance, but the months of being pent-up in his want for intimacy with you made Remus near mad and now he’s grateful that you’re here next to him, thoroughly spent and, by all evidence, thoroughly pleased as well. 

He reaches over to run his hand over your thigh and finds nothing but air. 

The bed creaks a second later. Remus turns onto his side as you stand and pull your shirt back over your head. You pull your hair out of the neckline, every movement you make lovely and perfect. 

“Hey,” he says. You turn, looking at him over your shoulder questioningly. He imagines he looks much the same. “Where are you running off to?” 

Your head tilts to the side, your smile small and fond. “I thought you wanted to go to the store.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not in any sort of hurry.” Remus feels, he has to admit, a tad jilted. Nothing in your demeanor would suggest you’re upset with him, but you’ve just initiated sex for the first time and then left his bed like it’s on fire. “I’d rather relax for a while first, wouldn’t you?” 

Your brows scrunch rather adorably, as though this would never have occurred to you. “Sure, that sounds nice. You mean, like, put on a film?” 

A soft, bemused laugh trips off his tongue. “I mean,” he says teasingly, “do you wanna come here, lovely?”

You go back into his arms like you’re happy to do it. Remus pulls your leg across him, stroking you from knee to hip the way he wanted to, and you get comfy with your face close to his on the pillow. When you blink, your lashes tickle his chin. 

“Is this alright?” he asks. 

You make a happy sound of affirmation, brushing a kiss over the column of his throat. He lets his hand migrate over your hip to the small of your back. 

“Do you always run off after sex?” 

You’re quiet for a second, and Remus worries he’s been too abrupt. He slips his other palm beneath your cheek, a silent apology. You say hesitantly, “I don’t think so. It’s just how we always did it, in my last relationship.” 

“You both got dressed right after?” 

“Yeah.” There’s a note of insecurity in your voice. Remus kisses the space between your brows in hopes of soothing it. “What else do you do?” 

He hums thoughtfully. “Well, I’m partial to a long cuddle.” Your laugh is a soft puff of air against his chest. He grins for hearing it. “I don’t know, we can do whatever works for us. Have a shower, eat something, talk. I like this.” He tilts his head, going for the ticklish spot on the side of your neck, and covers your hand with his when you giggle and try to push him away. “What sounds nice to you?” 

You sigh, but it’s a happy sound. “All of that sounds nice to me. You usually do that after sex?” 

He shrugs. “Preferably, yeah.” 

You’re quiet for a beat. “So this whole time I’ve been doing it wrong, huh?”

“There is no wrong, sweetheart.” Remus smears a kiss over your shoulder. “It matters what makes you feel good, though. Is this nice?” 

“This is nice,” you agree. Your voice is soft and breathy, a whisper of the sounds you’d made earlier. He knows without looking that your eyes have closed. “I think I’m on board with your cuddle plan.” 

He chuckles. “Glad to hear it.” 

“Will there still be time for a shower after? I feel a bit sticky.” 

“I told you, lovely girl. There’s no hurry.” 

[hyperfixatedbastard]

sweet, sweet silence

Vox x Autistic!GN!Reader

Dating the CEO of VoxTek Enterprises has its perks. You always get brand new devices before they even hit the shelves, and occasionally, Vox makes things specifically for you - like noise-cancelling headphones.

Word Count: 1.3k

WARNINGS: none!

A/N: this is for the autistic homies but it works for anyone with sensory issues! 'tis based off of my own experiences so apologies if it feels inaccurate to anyone, i'm projecting so hard rn. this is also my first time writing x reader/2nd person POV so I hope I did alright! also, i do requests if anyone would like to see more of this kind of thing :)

Dividers

"Doll, c'mere for a second, would ya?" Vox calls out to you, gesturing for you to come to his desk with a 'come hither' motion. 

You raise a brow in interest as you approach your boyfriend where he's sitting in his rather eccentric chair, tinkering with...something. You hop up onto the desk, careful to sit in a spot that you know has no important screens or buttons (you learned the hard way). You don't say anything, instead just tilting your head and waiting for Vox to show off whatever he's been working on this time.

He finally lets you see what's in his clawed hands: a pair of headphones. They're clearly a VoxTek product—the blue and red color scheme gives it away—though you're certain you've never seen these on sale before. It's not uncommon for Vox to show off new products to you before they're released, though, so you don't question it.

He smirks as he holds the headphones out to you. It's not that sly, devious smile he so often has on his screen, though; it's that grin you have when you're about to surprise someone and you just know they're going to love it. "These are for you, darling."

On one hand, you get a little excited (free shit, fuck yeah!). But on the other, you're a little worried—you're not good at receiving gifts. It always ends up awkward because you don't really know how to express gratitude in an expected, neurotypical way. But Vox is well aware of that, and he can tell when you're grateful, so you push those worries to the side and take the headphones from him.

You look at them curiously, inspecting the foldable hinges, the ear cushions, and the small assortment of buttons on the speakers. You can tell that the three buttons on the right speaker are for adjusting the volume—increase, mute, and decrease—but you have no damn clue what the button on the left speaker is for.

"Well? Put 'em on," Vox encourages you, still with that expectant grin as he anticipates your reaction.

You do as he says and place the headphones over your ears. They're certainly comfortable, but you don't see what the big deal is. You already have headphones—they’re not great, as it’s damn near impossible to drown out the unbearably overstimulating sounds of Hell, but you manage. Kinda.

Just as you’re about to ask what’s so special about these headphones, Vox presses that mystery button on the left speaker, and everything goes blissfully quiet.

Your eyes widen as you get the first moment of true silence for the first time since you arrived in Hell. The sudden difference is initially jarring, but the relief is downright euphoric. 

During the entirety of your afterlife in Hell, it's been ceaselessly loud and often unbearable. The screams, the explosions, the gunshots—it's incessant, and you never get a moment of peace. The V Tower is not nearly as bad as the rest of the Pride Ring, thanks to a lot of soundproofing, but there's always something. Moans and other lewd noises fill the halls of anywhere within five floors of Valentino's studios. You can hear the screeching and yelling beneath the thrum of music emitting from Velvette’s section of the tower. 666 Studios isn't much better, with the constant chattering of the crew and bickering between newscasters.

Vox's lair office is by far the quietest place in the entirety of Hell, at least in your experience. The soundproofing here is much more effective than anywhere else in V Tower, and Vox is the only person ever here. He does talk and maniacally laugh to himself fairly often, but you don’t usually don’t mind that (and he’ll typically quite down if he can tell you’re having a rough day). But it’s far from perfect—there’s still the intermittent click-clacking of a keyboard, the constant whirring of the computer fans, the low humming of all the tech, and the audio from whatever security camera Vox is spying on. You can tune it out most of the time, but it all overwhelms you so, so easily.

And you aren't very good at hiding it (at least not with Vox, who’s too observant for his own damn good when it comes to you).

Which is why your dear boyfriend has just spent the past several days making you the best noise-canceling headphones Hell has ever seen. He knows what the constant overstimulation does to you, and he sees it far more often than he'd like to. You get irritated and snippy, and sometimes it gets so bad you have a meltdown. It's gotten less common over time, but it still happens way too frequently for either of your likings. 

“So, who’s the best boyfriend ever?” he hints, clearly fishing for a compliment. His voice is surprisingly clear despite the headphones practically deafening you—his words are muffled, but just loud enough for you to understand what’s being said. He's grinning at you like he's the one that just got the excruciatingly heartfelt present. 

Usually, you’d have a witty comeback to Vox’s attempts at getting you to stroke his ego (always followed by an actual, genuine compliment to ease his insecurities hiding behind that ego), but you’re drawing a blank right now. 

The gift is so thoughtful that you don’t even know where to start on expressing your gratitude. Noise-canceling headphones seem so obvious now, but this is Hell! Both you and Vox had died before this technology became commonplace, and not many people in Hell care that much about the noise. Vox made these headphones specifically for you. He doesn’t need them (he can quite literally just turn off his audio input) and he probably won’t make much of a profit with them as a VoxTek product. He’s a busy man, being a CEO and an Overlord, yet he took the time to make this for you himself, not even passing the project off to one of the poor souls that works for him. 

“Babe?” Vox calls out gently, waving a hand in front of your face. Oh, shit—you’re overthinking your response so much that you forgot to actually fucking respond.

You blink a few times, meeting your boyfriend’s gaze. His brows are slightly furrowed, in what you think is a mix of concern and amusement. He’s a little worried he’s fucked up somehow, but he knows you well enough by now to recognize when you’re thinking too hard about something. He actually finds it quite adorable, at least when you’re not about to have a panic attack from it. 

As he looks at you expectantly, you decide to just go with your gut (at least, that’s what you think you’re doing—you’ve never entirely understood what the fuck that phrase means).

You don’t give yourself time to second-guess your actions before you’re practically jumping into Vox’s lap—though it’s more like falling since you were just sitting on the desk. He lets out a little ‘oof’ of surprise before he chuckles and moves his hands to your waist, holding you steady while being careful of his claws. He smirks as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his neck, jostling the headphones a little but not enough to fuck with the noise cancellation.

“So…you like them, then?” Vox prompts, just wanting the confirmation even though the answer is already clear. You can tell by his tone that he’s still grinning proudly.

You just gently nod, inadvertently rubbing your face against the fabric of his shirt (fortunately, Vox is a fancy bastard with high standards when it comes to clothing, and he’d long ago thrown out any garment made with fabric that triggered your sensory issues).

“Thank you,” you murmur against his neck. 

His hands tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and his response is so soft you can barely hear it through the headphones. “Anything for you, doll.”

[lilyarchived]

too late [john price]

a/n: I wasn't originally gonna write anything yet because I still feel absolute dogshit, but this post by @gloomyyangel was too yummy to ignore.  I don’t really like this but what else can I do? Write some more? (gunshots)

warnings: smut after keep reading! (go away minors), swearing, hurt NO comfort, fem reader, mean!price at the start, 1.7k words oops, Lowkey abrupt ending.

summary: you let price imagine you as his ex wife because it will hurt even more to let him go, but what happens if he finally tries to make it up to you?

“F-fuuuck..” your husband groans. “Feels,, sso good, angie..” The sound of another woman’s name should be enough to make you feel bad, be enraged, scream at him, go apeshit crazy, right? Your whimpers of pleasure say so otherwise. It has been like this for years, you’ve come to terms that your husband, Captain John Price, will always see you as his ex wife. At some point you feel bad for yourself, you wouldn’t have let this shit slide. Hell, you wouldn’t even settle for a rich, handsome man all because he told you women should just stay quiet. The bitch slap you gave that man before storming out the restaurant stays engraved in the back of your mind, good days. 

But now? Now you’re settling for a man to imagine as if you’re his ex? Since when did your standards fall down to the deepest pit in the ocean? “ ‘m close, fuck, so tight for me.” You didn’t know whether to feel flustered or disgusted at the praise, knowing damn well he’s talking to angie in his mind. You gasp as your orgasm suddenly takes over your whole body, basking in that sweet, sweet pleasure. Hey, he can be a dick husband and still make you cum, nothing wrong with that. He follows suit after a few more thrusts, his hands beside your head grasping at the satin sheets. His moans ring through your ear until he finally plops down beside you.

You don’t expect him to clean up. At Least not like he used to. You get up to clean yourself before going back in the room with a warm and wet washcloth. You clean your husband up before noticing he’s already fast asleep. How did you ever get here? From your handsome Captain flattering you, taking you out on dates, treating you as if you are the sun keeping him warm, putting your pleasure first, and actually caring about you; to this man, ever so distant, calling you his ex wife’s name, never talking to you unless it’s work related or if he needs to let out some energy. And why the hell are you letting this happen? A man? Taking advantage of you? Making you some sort of sex doll?

You wish you could just be mad about it, scream and punch and cry, do anything to avenge your poor self. Yet you can’t. You love him too much, you love him like he painted the morning orange sky above, you love him like he hung up the moon and stars. You love him. Only Simon knows about his behaviour, you were a bit sceptical telling him everything since he always thought so highly of the captain, you feared he would take his side and tell you to get over yourself. You hadn’t expected him to pull you in a tight hug and whisper to you that you should leave him. You cried for the first time in a long time that night.

Snapping back to reality, you get dressed in your sleeping clothes and settle next to your sleeping husband. Staring into his shut eyes, wondering where you went wrong. You let your eyes droop to sleep, preparing your mind for another unbearable day tomorrow.

--

As months passed, you and John were still together, happy, no, but still married. You start to grow numb, never once batting an eyelash when he cums again after moaning “angie”. What an annoying sound in your ears it was. Don’t get me wrong, you still felt good whenever he decided to initiate something sexual with you. Your moans and whines fill the air alongside the sound of slapping skin. Simon gives you the usual disappointed look, but you honestly can’t tell if that’s his resting face or not. Then, everything changes.

“Darling, d’you wanna get food with me?” You freeze on the empty couch in the equally empty rec room. The sound of John’s voice making your heart skip a beat. He has never asked you to eat out with him, well ever since he normalised moaning a different name in bed. It’s like all his intimacy and chivalry left with your dignity. “Umm, I just had dinner Sergeant Garrick, Captain. I’m set for the night..” you reply after you peeked behind you, making sure he was talking to you. “At ease, I’m talking to you as my wife, [Y/N]” You let out a forced chuckle before going back to the book you were reading. “Why were you out with Kyle?” you hear him mutter. He can’t be serious. “..We were both free and hungry?” you reply in a meek voice. “I was free. Couldn’t even be bothered to ask your husband first?” 

The way your blood was boiling the moment that stupid sentence left his mouth. Why does he care? Does he think that he can moan a different woman’s name in bed and get away with it but you going out for dinner with a friend is all of a sudden, adultery? “You told me you’d be busy the whole day. Why is it a big deal I went out with Gaz? It’s not like I’ve been saying his name during sex.” You quickly shut your eyes, you didn’t mean to say that last part out loud. You prepared for his anger, instead you were met with a deep sigh. “I’ll let you be.” He says defeatedly, walking away from the scene. You see a confused Simon in the corner before squealing out of surprise. “How long have you been there, freak?” Simon only chuckles, “Tha’ don’t matter, Cap’n looks devastated. Ya think he’s been feeling guilty?” He sips on his black tea, you remove the hand clutching your shirt near the beat of your heart. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” You fall face down on the couch to scream, ignoring Simon’s deep voice laughing at your pain.

What you both didn’t know is that John has been feeling bad for how he’s been treating you. He would notice your soft giggles echoing the hallways as Johnny picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, at how pretty you look in casual clothes, how your hair flows during bar hopping nights with the team, how your face shines in the city lights. How your nose scrunches when you get teased by Simon for liking your coffee too sweet. How beautiful you sound when he’s feeling you up and down, your surprised gasps as he rubs your clit in circles, how sinfully angelic you look when you come undone. Fuck, he really messed up.

So he makes it up to you, he cuddles after ruining your guts, he cleans you up, he wakes up before you to cook you breakfast. He makes your coffee the way you like it, gets you flowers every now and then, kisses you more passionately rather than his usual rushed ones. He loves you tenderly but it all seems foreign, even though he used to do it for the first few years of your relationship, you had already forgotten how it feels like to be loved by this man.

You feel nauseated. How could he go back to the way things were, like he hasn’t been giving you the cold shoulder for months now? Why now? WHY now? Why NOW? You stay cautious, every sweet move he’s doing puts you on edge. You knock on your Lieutenant’s door before he tells you to “come in” with that same ol’ gruff voice. As the night rolls in, you’ve already told him everything Price was doing, how he kept acting lovingly without addressing the past few months. He tells you you have two options: to confront him, or to go along with it. Neither of it seems appealing to you but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You thank Simon for the advice leaving his room to confront your husband tonight. The minute you walk into John’s room, his face lights up and asks you if you’ve eaten.  You scoff as you tell him you need to talk. “Why are you doing this to me, John?” you finally speak up after staring into the same eyes you fell for. His face drops, eyebrows furrowing, “What do you mean by that, dove?” A sigh escapes your soft lips, “Don’t call me that, John. Don’t act as if you weren’t just calling me, imagining me as your ex wife during our most intimate times. Don’t act like you haven’t been ignoring me, acting as if I didn't exist ‘til you needed work done or if you needed to have a shag.” You let out, tears staining your cheeks. John reaches out to wipe them but you move his hand away. “I mean, was it all a joke to you? Did I mean nothing but a body for you to imagine as if you were still together with her?” John finally talks, “You know it’s not like that, [Y/N]-” 

“Then what, John? What is it like? God, you- you” hyperventilating now, you search for the right words to come out. “You changed me. Acting like nothing’s wrong and being all sweet won’t work on me. I gave up on whatever our relationship was a long time ago.” His breath hitches, “Baby, please-” “I should go.” you cut him off. “Please, I’ll do better, we can start over?” he pleads, grabbing your arm. “It’s not that easy, John.” “Loving you is easy. I love you like it’s breathing. Please. You mean the world to me. I can’t let you go knowing i fucked up everything.” He sounds desperate now.

“I love you, John. But I don’t think I can ever love you like I used to.” He looks up to you, bloodshot eyes as tears pour over his face. You reach over to wipe them away. He leans into your touch. “Don’t give up on me, please?” You give him one last broken smile, “We’re way past not giving up, my love.” 

---

taglist for the people in the original post's comments LMAO (lmk if u want me to untag muheheh): @blackhawkfanatic@tf141gloryhole@montenegroisr@princesslikesfanfics@hoelesss

[markrosewater]

Hi mark. It’s me, the guy that was complaining about orphans of the wheat. I wanted to start by apologizing for using the word lazy. I wasn’t trying to say that the people who make this game don’t put a ton of thought and effort and care into it, but I totally get how my wording made it sound like I was trying to say that. I’m genuinely sorry I came off like I was belittling the immense work you all do.

I also want to clarify that I wasn’t trying to say “I don’t like this thing therefore it is bad”. Millions of people play magic, all with very different tastes, and I’m just one weirdo. Everybody is going to have aspects of the game they like and aspects they dislike, my opinion is not objectively correct.

What I was originally trying to get at was that it feels as though a lot of designs that are “based on” something feel like they are getting more overt. Bonny Pall is the example my brain always goes back to because the name is almost the exact same thing as what it’s flavored after, Paul Bunyan. Orphans of the wheat is just a more recent example of this and what sparked me sending my initial message.

A few years ago, I saw a video on YouTube of a speech you made, I think it was your 30 years 30 lessons one. In it you talk about how akroan horse was originally Akroan Lion, and players didn’t get it, but when you changed it to akroan horse, suddenly people loved it and it felt so flavorful. I get that it’s important to make sure that people get the reference when you’re making one. And I get that it’s a delicate balance. Too subtle, and people don’t get it; but too overt, and bozos like me send giant messages complaining.

My qualm with Children of the wheat is that it is an example of a pattern I feel like I’m seeing where you are erring on the side of “gotta make sure they get it”, to the point that sometimes it feels like the reference is being beaten over our head. But I do recognize how that’s just my perspective and other people have different opinions on where the line is for “too obvious”. For example, I think Altanak and say its name are awesome. I like how the art is someone looking in a mirror and if you say its name three times then you summon the big bad monster. But I totally get how someone else might see that and say “well all they did was make Bloody Mary a bug”. And I also totally get how there might be another person who didn’t even get the reference and would’ve needed a card called “mutilated Miranda” to realize it.

This whole *thing* is just my way of saying that designs that are references to something feel like they are more and more often mutilated Miranda or Bonny Pall or orphans of the wheat, and that fewer and fewer of them are getting even one step removed from what they are referencing.

Thanks for taking the time to write back. It means a lot to me. How close we get to references is something we’re constantly reevaluating. We’ve definitely got the note that this year indexes too high on the obvious references.