#it does wonders for my pores

[ipcearn]

My dad, who loathes kimchi but knows I very much enjoy it, bought me an extra jar since it was a special at the supermarket he shops at and noticed I had already started in on the one he bought me last

Also he made quiche for us with spring onions instead of leeks, since I don't like leeks (a fact my mom staunchly refused to consider whenever she made it)

[gojoacedia]

Katsuki is the type of boyfriend to be physically unable to find you unattractive. When you wake up next to him in the morning with your pimple patches and bonnet on he thinks you look like a goddess. When you open your eyes for the first time he’s already looking at you with those lovestruck eyes. He’ll even wipe the eye crusts from your tear ducts or the dead skin that accumulated around your mouth at night with the most adoring face imaginable.

You honestly get it though. You’ll put a pore strip on his nose and peel out all of his blackheads with a look of complete satisfaction. God forbid he has a pimple on his face or better yet his back/shoulders because you are on that shit. You turn into a whole dermatologist. Nitroglycerin sweat does wonders for his skin but he pretty much negates all of them by creating explosions with his quirk. You know how his body works better than any doctor could.

If you went up to Katsuki saying your tampon was stuck he would throw you on the bed and spread your legs like he was delivering a fucking baby. You already know he has sex with you on your period. He could not give any less of a fuck. If anything, he likes the extra lubrication. He’ll clean you up and get hard all over again being close to your messy pussy now leaking his cum. Then after another round, he would carry you to the bathroom to make sure you pee so you don’t get a UTI. He’ll just sit on the bathroom floor watching you get more and more amazed at how much cum leaked from your vagina. Even though Katsuki’s attachment issues make it so you can barely even shit without him in the room, you still get pee-shy every time.

“Stop looking at me! Every time you do my coochie clenches because you’re so hot and the pee won’t come out! Why are you laughing this is serious Katsuki! Do you want me to get a UTI?!”

[mediumgayitalian]

He hears him four cabins away. At minimum.

The thing about Will is that he is not a sneaky person. He tries to be — gods does he ever try — but it is so antithetical to who he is as a person that it never works out. He breaks out into hives if he lies, for Hades’ sake. Sometimes even when he withholds the truth. It’s hilarious.

Anyways, he wakes Nico up.

He hears the cream of the opening window and shoved his face into a pillow. There’s a way to open them without so much as a peep — Piper knows how, and Percy, and probably ninety-two percent of the rest of camp — but Will, in all honesty, probably can’t even hear it, as high-pitched as it is. The scuffle of his shoes on the smooth obsidian walls are equally as loud, somehow, and the oof he lets out as he lands on the marble floors face-first echo all the way to the lake.

It’s a wonder the harpies haven’t come squawking, honestly. Or maybe good karma.

“Psst,” Will actually, genuinely hisses. “Psst, Nico. You up?”

“No,” Nico lies. “I am sleeping ever so peacefully and ignoring the obnoxious intruder of my space.”

“Well, get up.” His feet have started to tap. Nico smothers his stupid widening grin into his hand — it’s not cute, it’s not. It’s dumb and embarrassing and ridiculous. Gods. What a freaking theatre kid.

Nico peeks one eye open, and Will is standing, shirt on backwards, scratching his calf, staring at the faintly-glowing altar in the back corner. His pupils are dilated.

“I want ice cream.”

Nico does not, technically, have much to do tomorrow.

There’s training. But there’s always training, really, and also he went to Tartarus, so how much worse can it get, really? What else is he training for? Tartarus Two: The Torture Trudges On? And there’s of course his afternoon class, but he can definitely sleep-walk his way through that one. He’ll wear sunglasses and tell the kids he’s evaluating them based on the level of maliciousness he feels in their energy. It has worked for him before.

He can go out for three in the morning ice cream.

But the principle of the thing.

“It’s witching hour, William.”

“You like witching hour.” 

Fair. 

“Plus! Ice cream.” He turns to face Nico, and he still can’t see, that at least Nico knows for sure, but he tilts his head and cocks his hip like he can. “Ice cream, Death Boy. Three a.m. bad decisions. Look me in the eye and tell me you’re not frothing at the mouth.”

Nico makes a show of patting down his dry face, just to bother him, except he realises he was in fact drooling in his sleep and has to then resist the urge to throw himself off a building. Gods. Will is lucky it's blacker than actual night in here or Nico would genuinely have to kill him and then himself. 

"Fine," he says hastily, rolling off his bed and slamming onto the floor. "Begone. I will meet you outside."

“You have two minutes,” Will warns, tapping at his watch. He turns resolutely around. He pauses. He turns again, sighs, then turns, or at least tries to, back to Nico’s general direction, but where he is actually staring, hands on his hips, is the wall, this time Nico does not even bother to hide his smile in his hands. “Could you maybe point me in the direction of the door, Mr. Vampire Freak?”

Nico puts gentle hands on Will’s shoulders, guiding him towards the ornate doorway. He offers absolutely no resistance, leaning into the pressure of Nico’s palms as he stumbles forward.

“Calling me a freak is going to restart my trauma,” Nico says loftily.

“Shut up.” A beat. “Sorry.”

“I’m teasing, you doofus.”

“Still. That was uncalled for.” He nearly brains himself on the doorway trying to turn around to face him. Nico darts out and tucks a protective hand over his forehead, just in time. Will butts his head into the hold affectionately. “You are not a freak.”

Something gross and gooey and soft melts in Nico’s sternum, and his lips twitch, and his chest warms, and fondness bleeds from him, from his pores, wrapping Will’s shoulders like shadow and blinking like gentle flame.

“I know that,” Nico says, shaking his head. “You are so strange. Get out of here. I need to put pants on.”

Will blinks. Nico counts four seconds. Will glances down, and his face heats something awful.

“You!!!” he whisper-shouts, over Nico’s snickering. “I’m going to!!!” He waves a hand. He waves again, ending in somewhat of an accusing point. “Ah!!!”

He rushes out the barely-open door, tripping over the front step and sprawling on his ass on the porch. Nico leans against the doorway, grin widening, arms crossed over his chest. Will stays curled on the floor, face in his hands, muttering to himself. It is so loud it — echoes. Right across the common. Two separate lights turn on.

He does not notice.

Nico loves him so much he envisions grabbing his pillow and beating him to a coma with the force of it. Instead, he rushes inside and pulls on the first pair of jeans he sees.

“Okay,” he yawns, nudging Will’s prone form with the toe of his shoe. “Let’s go.”

“Finally,” Will mumbles. He stays in his ball of misery for five seconds. He gets up. He pauses, breathing in, breathing out. He, realisinf Nico has left him behind, scrambles to catch up, tripping over a rock and very nearly pitching right down Half-Blood Hill. “I want — soft serve.”

“No,” Nico says easily.

“It’s better! It’s — smooth!”

They reach the road. Nico raises a hand as if summoning a taxi, barely managing to grab Will’s collar and yank him back from the road before a shiny, shadow-black SUV melts into existence at the speed of Fast and kills him dead.

“It’s a disgrace, William. It is an abomination of modern hubris.”

“You’re — you’re just like your father, you know that, you —”

Nico’s jaw drops.

“That’s is an evil fucking thing to say to me —”

Will is so loud, he can’t help it, everywhere he goes, he stumbles through doorways and trips over air and whistles as he walks and tap tap taps his ever-moving fingers. Will is loud, he is lively, Will is life, personified, every inch of him glows golden.

The issue is that Nico is loud when he’s around him, too. Like he forgets to keep quiet.

“—that’s that, Solace.” He yanks the sliding door open, hovering in the frame. “Hard ice cream or no ice cream for you. That’s that.”

Will huffs. It’s just barely bright enough outside — there’s moonlight — for him to be facing the right direction, this time, back to Thalia’s tree, as he crosses his arms and taps his foot and pouts like that will get him anywhere.

Nico stares right back, back to the SUV, ignoring Jules-Albert’s grumbling.

He will not give in this time. 

He will not.

“I really just think soft ice cream will help the homesick,” Will mumbles. He kicks at the too-long grass. “It’s — tour season. Mama and I always went to DQ during tour season.”

“Oh —Jesus fucking Christ.”

Will has won and he knows he has, because he can muffle a smile but he’s never been able to fight back that victorious little giggle, because he is loud, and Nico hates him.

Toujours il te déjoue, et toujours, tu lui permets.

Nico scowls.

“Your job is to drive, Jules-Albert; if I wanted a critic I would have summered Ebert.”

Jules-Albert smiles at him. Due to the rotting flesh and tooth decay, it is horrifying, but unfortunately not horrifying enough to distract him from Will’s smug lean, his bright smile.

“If you don’t stop humming We Are The Champions I’m going to fucking gut you,” Nico threatens.

“Mhm. Perhaps. But then you would have no one to bully you, and you will be miserable.”

Jules-Albert barks a laugh, and offers Will a high-five.

“I will crack a chasm open onto this road! I swear to the gods! I will blow up this car!”

———

It takes twenty-two minutes to get to the nearest Dairy Queen.

Nico practically flees out of the car.

“I thought you were too tired for ice cream,” Will teases, jogging after him.

Nico scowls at him. “I am never doing anything with you ever again as long we both shall live.”

“Sure thing,” says Will absentmindedly. He links their arms together, humming at the menu. Nico’s lungs shrivel up and retire. “I’m only friends with you for the infinite credit card, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The Dairy Queen is silent at nearly four in the morning. Even the machines hold their breath, sole employee communicating entirely in nods and slow blinks.

Will’s laugh is like rolling summer thunder.

Nico feels like he is suffocating, like the humidity of the air churns solid in his chest.

———

In the cold of the late-night DQ air, table sticking to his elbows, a flip-flopped foot kicks his ankle.

“Hey.”

“What,” Nico grumps, shoving a spoonful of Oreo Blizzard Extreme into his mouth. It is mediocre.

There is a dot of ice cream on Will’s nose. Unrelated, there has been an endless loop of anguished screaming yearning in the back of Nico’s mind for the past seven minutes.

“Thank you.”

“Hmph.”

Will smiles. His nose scrunches with it, and the ice cream smears across his freckles. Nico’s heart explodes, just like that. Probably due to the ice cream. Sugar clogs arteries, or something like that.

“I mean it. Thank you.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you need a ride home. And because I paid, you broke pain in the ass.”

He smiles wider. His blue eyes shine darker than midnight, darker than Oreos, and for a desperate breathless moment Nico drowns in his pupils.

“True. But also.”

He kicks Nico’s ankles again.

“Thank you for coming with me.”

The half-frozen brownie lodges in his throat, and Nico swallows, and swallows, and swallows. Will’s eyes ger brighter, and brighter, and brighter.

“Yeah,” he says, reedy. He swallows. Will ducks his head. “Anytime.”

[lustlovehart]

This is like my first ask ever so I'm a bit nervous, but I've been thinking abt monter!twst nonstop so I just had to make an ask. What would the boys do (including Rollo) if mh!reader was on a mission and got put under a sleeping curse?

I'd imagine it'd be pretty distressing, imaging Rollo trying to keep the monsters away while looking for a cure for reader.

Love the au also! Keep up the good work!

- milk 🥛 anon

A/n: Ahhhh!!! Hi 🥛 anon!!! Don’t ever be nervous putting stuff in my inbox <33 I’ve said this before but I love reading everyone’s ideas!! Even if i don’t get to writing them </3

Featuring: [Monster!Twst] Heartslaybul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasmonia, Rollo, Neige, Fellow, Skully, Chenya x Reader

Cw: Head canon format ( So no individual scenarios unfortunately), Obsession, Possessiveness, Kissing, Insecurity, No proofreading

Unfortunately, Poor Rollo has to deal with BOTH swatting them away like flies, and checking up to make sure you’re not suffering in your time of rest with nightmares 😔 (a wanting to be married to you single mom who works 2 jobs).

I like to imagine fairytales still exist within the universe, but they don’t reach their ears in the wild. It’s only Heartslaybul, Leona, Kalim, and Epel who have any idea of the “Kiss of true love”, and then words spreads around of these human stories and suddenly it’s less about getting your body back and more about being the one who wakes you up…

Why would he wanna kiss you? That’s stupid nothing’s gonna happen… Maybe one—?

- Ace, Jamil, Epel, Sebek

- Depending on his personality, he’s either going “Ew gross i’m not kissing a human” or “Those humans tales are foolish, why would i believe them?”. But either view end them in the same boat, standing over your slumbering form and hesitantly leaning into your face. Maybe he isn’t fast with it either, taking his time to look at the details in your mortal face, pores, eyelashes, everything really. It’s stupid, so stupid he shouldn’t believe any of this really, it’s vulnerable, emotional, unnecessary; yet, he can’t seem to stop himself from placing his monstrous mouth on yours, hoping something will happen.

Wants to kiss you, but feels a sense of insecurity that holds him back

- Riddle, Deuce, Cater, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Idia, Silver

- Similar to the previous category, but slightly different. They don’t oppose the idea of a kiss at all, what really has them fearing their lips on yours, is both the vulnerability, and the event of it not working. What then? He puts himself out there for you and it’s pointless? It’s cruel, a further reminder of just how different you both are. He will look at you with pain in his eyes, wondering what he should do. Ghastly hands taking your own as he lifts them to his mouth. He might not be able to bring himself to your lips, but he’s willing to settle on your skin. He just… can’t bear the thought that he wasn’t made for you.

He’ll try, it sounds fun! When, not if, you wake up, he’ll make sure to tell you about everyone’s current violence problem.

- Trey, Floyd, Jade, Rook, Lilia, Fellow, Chenya

- Practically jumping at the chance to place his mouth on you. Of course he’ll wake you up! You’re a lot more fun when you up and about trying to hunt him down! The thought of it not working does cross his mind, but is he truly an all famed beast if he can’t take risks? He lucked out on Rollo being gone, he’s essentially a human version of a brick wall. He’ll go out all out for you, snaking his arm around your waist and lifting you out the glass coffin liking a loving husband. He’ll swirl you around with care, before dipping you down like a ballroom dance, and then wake you up. He can’t wait to show off to everyone else, because you will open your eyes.

He’ll do it. if his try doesn’t work though… He’ll make sure no one eleses does either. Your sleeping body will forever be held with him until you wake up.

- Leona, Kalim, Vil, Malleus, Neige, Skully

- He’s already sat by your side, his hand tracing patterns into your collarbone while he whispers. Will you wake up for him? You will won’t you? You must. Silent affirmations only he and he only will know, unless you wake up of course. His finger will trace down your chest, tapping the place your heart would be, each touch in sync with the beat of your heart. It’s gentle, yet somehow possessive in some right. With the final beat of his index, he’ll finally lean down, his face feeling your breathes on his fiendish skin. You’ll wake up, not because he believes in the tale, but because you must let him be the one who does something so intimate to you. If it doesn’t work, he’ll put you in prettier clothes, a prettier coffin, a prettier home, because he won’t let anyone else have the blessing of tasting your lips, only him.

The one who places your body in the pretty glass coffin, putting you in the prettiest of wear and scenery during his attempt; all while warding off the wretched creatures.

- Rollo

- Practically spends every waking and sleeping moment in your presence, only leaving for at most 5 minutes. Unfortunately for him, 5 minutes is enough time for anything to happen to you. He’ll hold your hands, fix your clothes, place new flowers and ribbons on your coffin, anything for you; except be the one who kisses you. The urge to consumes his entire being, eating at him like a sinful leech who wont let go. Sometimes whenever he’s by you, his eyes can’t help but trace back to your lips, a temptation too good for any man or beast to resist, but he does, because he can’t bear the thought of stripping you’re purity, directly at least. Whenever the urge becomes much too strong, he’ll lean down, placing a kiss on your knuckle, on your wrist, on your forehead, on your cheek, on your collarbone, on your neck, on your chest, even on the corner of your mouth, until the only place he hasn’t placed his mouth on is your lips. An indulgence he won’t take no matter how much he wishes to. Because…

You don’t deserve a monsters love, not matter how much he wishes to be yours and yours alone.

You are the sole blessing he has left, he won’t taint you, no matter how much he wishes too. But… he won’t let anyone else take you either.

A/n: For Floyd, Jade, and Sebek I realized half way that these guys wouldn’t be able to reach you on land if that’s where you were laid to rest, a perfect scenario for Rollo really. Imagine his surprise when he opens your room and sees tiny imps dragging your coffin out and into the river, where a horrific marine monster takes hold of you… Truly, how desperate for you are they?!? (Rollo has no room to judge considering he’s just as obsessed)

This honestly makes Floyd and Jade scenario so pretty <3 being in pretty clothes while he ball dances with you in the water, dipping you down while clear water envelops your upper half, leaving only your pretty face <33 do you guys see the vision?!?

And trey? He doesn’t seem like the type to be in that category, but hear me out, he does it low-key. He doesn’t go all out like the others guys so it’s not as cocky, yet there’s the underlying feeling of bragging that they can get mad and but can’t outright criticize him for. Same goes for kalim, he doesn’t seem like the type to do such a thing, but in this case, he can’t help but feel a little jealous if it isn’t him who wakes you up.

[jin0]

A Morning Between King Nicholas and His Queen - A Sequel to « Of Love, Lust and Wasted Time »

Summary : what does a morning between Nicholas and his lovely wife look like ? Sex. A lot of it, obviously. porn with like some kind of plot but who are we kidding really.

Pairing : King!Nicholas Alexander Chavez X Queen!Reader

Warning : 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, fluff, size kink, slight breeding kink, cockwarming, morning sex, slight cum play, biting, lots of I love you, slightly mean!reader/spoiled!reader (she needs her sleep, nick needs her)

A/N : i have no decorum so I wanted to add this because why not so this is just filth. Also, you can find the ‘first part’ here :)

_______________________________________________

It was morning such as these ones that reminded Nicholas that he had grown to be a rather complicated man in terms of where he could find his happiness. Because no matter what, to wake up in his bed, in the arms of his beloved, skin on skin, warmed by morning rays of sunlight, this was a pleasure he could only find here, in his home, with her.

Duty had required his presence abroad for days now and she had to stay and rule alone in his absence. It had been the first time they were separated since their marriage and both had to suffer without the other. To see her at the door, last night, as soon as he returned, his heart could thump of joy alone.

Wrapping himself around her frame, he felt every muscle of his body relax against her, finally feeling himself ease down from days of political conversations and trades. He laid on top of her, covering her whole while his arms crossed under her. His hands were tight around her waist, pulling her so close they could’ve merged together if possible. He wondered if she was uncomfortable, the look of contentment on her face enough of an answer for him. Her own hands were draped over his back, the pad of her fingers soft against his skin.

This was it, true Love like he had learned existed as soon as he had met her.

With his face nuzzled into her breasts, he inhaled deeply, enjoying being wrapped in her scent all over. Rubbing the tip of his nose along her mound, he kissed that very same spot with a grin. Was it human to be so happy ? Was it human to love so much ? To love a human with such ease and so naturally ? Some days, he looked at her and felt nauseated from not being able to surrender every second of his remaining time alive to her every wish.

Breathing in her heat, his fingers grazed her sides up and down.

Rubbing the sleep off of his face with one hand while his other arm held her close, his lips found themselves kissing and biting the corner of her jaw tenderly while she whined in her sleep from being moved off of her preferred position.

« Nicholas… » She groaned in a voice so sweet it traveled through every pore of his body and infiltrated her bloodstream.

Looking up to meet her narrowed eyes to avoid the sunlight. Oh, how marvelous she was, his girl. The love of his life.

« I love you… » He whispered dreamily. His mind was trained on her face and how delicious she tasted whenever his lips found her body. He kept going, from her neck to her bosom, all he could reach, before dropping his body on her again.

After their first night, Nicholas had been glad to find out that his large stature made for an excellent mattress for his wife. She loved nothing more than to cover herself of him or lay on top of him. By the time she could feel him on her whole being, she was satisfied.

« Settle down, my love…» He muttered as he moved them both again to be on his side but still, half his body covering her in a makeshift cocoon.

The princess squirmed a little to position herself correctly. Her legs wrapped around one of his, her arm draped over his side while the other was kept close to her chest. She kept close to him, whining until he moved his face to lay on hers. Yes, this was perfect.

He could only chuckle, amused by her demands to be comfortable. But he lived to serve and please her, even in her sleep. So much so in fact that when his hard cock grazed the inside of her thighs, pushing against her flesh and taking up space between them both, his grin widened.

Yes, King Nicholas would still enjoy a little more sleep. And like his wife, he would need certain adjustments to be comfortable, starting with her gapping pussy, still dripping of his load from the night before. He could see it between her legs, thick and sticky, what a vision.

He moved her body slightly, nudging between her legs to part them with a smile and a kiss to her lips. He hiked her leg up to his waist, and her reaction was almost instantaneous. In a matter of seconds, there she was, looking up at him with her big beautiful eyes, less than amused.

« Must you have me twice a day ? » She asked, blinking away the sleep which had been taken from her.

« If I have to be honest, twice a day is nearly not… enough » His response was punctuated by movements, attempting not to cum as soon as his tip pushed past her folds. « Remember, an heir is expected of us, sweetness. We must be hard at work on this, it is of the greatest importance. »

They both could’ve laughed. Becoming parents was important, the gender of said heir, less, and the moment they would come even less. But Nicholas couldn’t hide that he enjoyed working to bring said heir as quickly as possible. Less for the baby and more for the pleasure of fucking his lovely wife. And that he did, in various positions and rooms of the castle. It was as if he had found a source and from then on his thirst could only be quenched by the water of that very fountain. She was but Life itself to her lord husband, the only thing he would ever need. Even so early in the morning.

After all, what was decorum if not rules that a king simply could not be bothered with ?

Nicholas rubbed his face close to hers, kissing away the pout on her face with a smile. The domestic bliss he’d been enjoying could simply not be replicated, not without his darling. To have her displeased, in his arms, in their bed, together, was a pleasure that he now couldn’t go without either. Like honey to a bee, he craved the surge of happiness from waking up next to her, hearing her chat away about her day, seeing her live life in all its grace. It was all of this and more that made him desperate for her, so much so that he would tighten his hold on her body and push himself deeper until he was buried deep as can be. And in that moment he was home.

The sigh of relief they both breathed out could lead him to believe that to stay in that position would be enough. Unfortunately and, as always, Nicholas was a selfish man who could never be content with the bare minimum. He needed to have his wife carnally and then enjoy more rest inside her.

As she readjusted on him to return to the sleep slowly evading her, the queen grew needy as can be for her husband to continue what he had started. Her nails started to run along his back, digging into his skin occasionally, when the throbbing of his cock sent electricity through her pliant body. Luckily she did not need to say a word for him to move, or take action.

Covering her body with his more, his lips found every possible area of her face to kiss with tenderness and care while she moaned in pleasure under him. It would be quick, both knew, and he chose to make it as loving as possible. His hips rutted into her with slow yet forceful thrusts, the tip of his cock digging into her guts while she failed to utter a single word. To feel her husband so deep in the morning and to be held so nicely, it was as if he invaded each crevice of her. The soft of her hand now replaced by her nails digging new marks along his wide back, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and big down on his collarbone before kissing the same space her teeth had left their marks in.

« My darling girl… I love you… I love you so much… I could never go without you… » There was generally no reason to such words from him. All were inspired by her presence near him.

She trembled under him, all the way to her toes, curling and her legs shaking from the force of his body pushing into her. With each movements that reached her pleasure point came a small, hiccup like, cry of pleasure from the queen. The sounds of skin slapping, grunts from the king and moans from his beloved merged together, resonating through the room as the only sign of life. And as it was never enough, Nicholas always the greedy man, took his girl in his large hands, holding her by the plush of the hips to flip her over and have her sat down on his throbbing cock.

« Taking me so well, my love… Keep going… » He breathed out into her ear, his lips glued against it as he groaned loudly for each movement.

Suddenly entirely exposed to his eyes and the control he had over her, she abandoned herself in his arms. He planted his feet on the mattress and started bouncing her up and down his fat cock. He was quick to see his tip push into her cervix and lower stomach, a smile drawing on his face before he pulled her close to his chest to kiss away at the tears spilling from her eyes.

« F-Fuck… T- Mmmh, s’good » Her syllables blended together in concert with both their sounds while her hands found support on his shoulders to ground her. It quickly became insufficient thought, the queen wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her nose in his hair.

« I love you… So much. I love you, my pretty girl… Tell me, tell me you love me, my love, tell me you love me too… » His voice was thick with desperation, pleading for her words and her being.

« Yes ! Yes, yes, yes ! S’much, I love you so much, my love, yes ! »

He enjoyed having her in such a state. Barely awakened mind and body trying to process the force of his desire. It was now common for her to lose her thoughts as well as her words, both replaced by tears of pleasure dripping down her soft cheeks. His hands unceremoniously grabbed at the fat of her ass to fully bounce her on top of him, never loosing focus of the tenderness he gave her. Kiss after kiss, his lips never left her. From her lips to her neck, to the spot behind her ear that made her float in his arms, and the corner of her mouth, and her swollen eyelids, every single one of her favorite places he kissed. He even made sure to have his cock kiss her cervix just right to leave no place untouched.

« I…love… you … » A groan of pleasure soon turned into a soft cry erupting out of him. Each word punctuated with a thrust of his. As she tightened around him, he couldn’t take much more himself.

She was the first to finish, as always. The moment his thumb had grazed her clit, she was done for. He watched in awe as her eyes glazed over, her mind visibly blanking before she drowned him in her cum. Of course, he was no better, following only seconds later. The most amount of focus he could muster was put into her again, his eyes trained on her lower shim and how it bulged from his load. He’d never get tired of watching it, the way her body still struggled to take him whole.

These days apart had been difficult and it seemed they both had needed a little more to catch up, not that they would ever be satisfied.

As if nothing had happened, he flipped them both again, this time laying fully on top of her like they both loved and needed. Both bathing in the post coitus glow, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, they stayed quiet for a moment.

King Nicholas’s hands caressed her side, overtaken by admiration as he looked at her. She held his face and looked into his eyes, hers softening. Her thumbs caressed his eyelids, still breathing heavily as she came down from her high. He looked so beautiful, her husband. Her sweet love. She would complain about her sleep but to have him love her so loudly and at every hour of the day. The man she had chosen, to have him disregard the customs to profess his love at ever turn, she could never really be mad at her, not when he spoiled her of his Love.

« You have ruined my sleep, Nicholas… » The tone of her voice was playful, but the smile on her face was the greatest of treasures.

Nicholas dropped on top of her, smiling as she laughed in his ear, carding his hand through his hair and kissing the spot next to her ear.

Both fell asleep for the next few hours, the maids of the castle and any knight with functioning ears and a little bit of experience knowing better than to attempt to bother them.

Life in the kingdom would wait for the rulers to wake up.

[idekkkjja]

u should sooo do a bully Giselle x reader fic but like it’s not for me duh🙇‍♀️

Belong to me,,🫀⋆ ࣪.

۶ৎ Chapped bruises painted all over your aching body, maroon trickling down from the barely opened pores and your lungs clutching onto the oxygen painfully. The state, as she boasts about so proudly to brainwashed others, claiming an ownership on your very soul. Restricted to nothing but dreadful days of facing her unpredictability at school.

Heads-up: English not my first language so there’s gonna be mistakes, please correct me on them! Very very toxic, read it if you want to. Violence obviously, blood involved, and cursing. Small mentions of masturbation, and this it went downhill at the end wtf.. plus this isn’t proofreaded (for now!) and there’s smut at the end but guys im still new to it please it’s not great at all. And Giselle is just so.. 🤤🤤🤤 can’t resist for her to be a lil crazy.

(I can do headcanons for this Giselle if yall want btw or whatever)

一 Numb to the pain coursing throughout your unfortunate body, a toy to her wrath and pleasure twisted into ‘love’ she softly whispers in private; the pain soothed by the ruined lipstick as she plasters them all over, a physical embodiment of bandages that you plead for.

Hidden beneath the thin layers yet discreetly transparent of your wrinkled uniform, you fixed your collar briefly and continued strolling with the unsynchronised crowds in the cramped hallways. Shoved against others’ unsuspecting selves, you let out a muffled grunt in annoyance and forcefully strode amidst them, rarely determined to get to your safe space.

Away from everyone, away from them.

Cursing under your breath, you slid in the opened doors, into a library reversed for tranquil stillness, with an exception of the old pages of books scraping against each other in a calming rhythm. Most don’t bother giving a visit in the school’s library, it was far too empty despite your friends’ pity attempt to fill up the space. (You only had 3).

But you prefer it like this, fewer people meaning no anxiety knotting painfully in your stomach, a nagging voice alarming you that what they could do to you if given the chance.

Less of a problem now, in the past, others have tried to make you their mocking punching bag. However, it flew right back at their face because of Giselle who forbade anybody else to lay a finger on you or comment anything malicious about you.

Somebody daring to talk shit about you behind your (scarred) back? They better get ready for their nudes to be posted on a porn website if they didn’t get on their knees to you.

Somebody ‘accidentally’ bumping a little too hard against your shoulder? Next day, an inconvenience occurred leading to their shoulder being dislocated.

Somebody flirting with you openly or secretly? Either way, Giselle would find out. And when she does, there’s no point wondering why the person doesn’t dare to glance your way anymore.

Alone on the circular tables at the back, effectively distancing yourself physically as much as you can from everyone, your eyes stared at the repetitive letters on the wrinkled papers—your mind completely elsewhere.

Dried bruises pigmented on your skin, last night aching brutally that dreams had no distraction available to you. Peeling them off wasn’t an option today; too fresh, too raw, relating to your feelings very much for someone.

It was complex, a lengthy puzzle impossible to entangle within months and months on end, and the prize wasn’t worth the struggle. You weren’t obvious with it, those feelings were reduced to nothing but filth used at sleepless nights to get you off.

You were dirty, a very dirty slut behind those ridiculously thick-frame glasses aching your poor, reddish ears, the shy interior. Not in the way of being a slut outside school, no, unsurprisingly you were a humble (that's what you always say to your friends) virgin. Desperately enough, the used toys and such messily arranged in the back of your closet says otherwise.

Who could blame you? Being attention deprived did wonders to a person!

Foolishly so, even in instances where Giselle shoves you roughly around, manhandles you, or beats you up for sick entertainment—you did get turned on.

Subconsciously in stress, you scratched your hair, the messy thin strands fell loose on your forehead. Getting off your chair, you lazily slacked your bag on your shoulder and limped out, leaving the book hanging behind, forgotten because of your racing thoughts.

It was lunch, a time where everybody adores, prays for it to come nearby: but it was different for you, very different. Frantically, your eyes searched across the crowds full of familiar yet blurry faces to recognise where your friends lay by, you couldn't find any sign of them.

With a heavy, defeated suspire, hanging by your lips, you dragged yourself to go on a search for them.

Cafeteria, checked.

Nearly all of the extended and endless halls of the school, checked.

Some of the classrooms, checked.

Needless to say, you were exhausted, your knees buckling slightly.

Then, the highlight of your miserable days shone in the spotlight; Giselle. And her loyal sidekicks. Acting upon your impulse, you sharply turned to the opposite direction, praying to the skies that she would not spot you.

"Ah, my bitch's here, hm?" Your day could not get any worse.

Defences—the paper-thin walls constructed carefully around you—were ripped apart cruelly by that girl the second fate destined the two of you. It was the unfortunate inevitable, bound to occur almost daily: it’s either she beats you up to the ground, leaving week-lasting bruises on every surface of your skin or an entertaining prank orchestrated mainly by her lackeys to humiliate you for days or even years.

So, you had nothing. Nothing. Teachers? They simply did not care except if it involves their beloved salary, and Giselle’s father funding the school made matters worse.

Fair play wasn’t your thing.

Your parents? No point, they were worse themselves, ignoring you completely and belittling every single thing you utter or do.

Both home and school weren’t comforting. You had nowhere to go to, no real solitary.

Slowly, your eyes met with hers, awaiting a response provoked by her taunting.

You couldn’t say anything; you wanted to, to break this vicious cycle of this pathetic life you’re tied to—the will had no benefits to you, no defending could help, no slim chance. Too much disadvantages, you knew that, everybody knew.

Without waiting any further, her hand clamped onto your wrist, yanking you closer; her hot breath ghosting your ear teasingly. “You’re being a mute little thing now today, aren’t you? How sad.” She whispered breathlessly, her thumb pressing against your pulse within the visible veins displaying on your wrist like the roots to your heart.

“I don’t know,” you murmured meekly, shrinking yourself by your stiff demeanour.

Giselle only smiled in response, grinning, her teeth showing. Usually smiles are a sign of happiness, one’s smile would be used to bring positivity to the other they’re showing to.

But her’s—they were terrifying, the opposite, a bad sign.

“I know why you’re so quiet, out of guilt, right?” Her nails dug deep in your skin, awakening new crimson lines. She was subtle in her words in public, playing with confusing riddles that an English teacher cannot decipher fully, so how could you?

You were confused.

What did you do wrong this time?

“You know what you did.” Insisting roughly; she tugged on your wrist to emphasise her point yet it didn’t serve its purpose, overwhelming you instead.

To sobs.

Tears involuntarily pricked in your eyes, you didn’t want to cry, you didn’t know why you were crying now. It would create no sympathy for you, just mockery.

“You’re crying out of guilt now, aren’t you?” Unfazed by the teary display, Giselle stared, unblinking with the eerie smile remaining.

She didn’t glance at anybody else, staring only, seeing you break apart so satisfyingly in front of her brought a twisted pleasure tugging her insides.

Travelling down to your hand, her hand embraced it tightly, too tightly that your complexion paled from before. “Don’t follow me,” Giselle chirped at the other girls—her lackeys who watched giggling and not intervening nor protesting, simply abiding her actions. Subtly agreeing, wishing that they were her.

Everybody wishes they’re Giselle.

Through the hallways, she dragged you, letting you tumble forward in sync with her footsteps as she found a secluded area: nobody around to witness what she will do.

Inside, she ushers you inside and slams the door shut, the sound booming in the tight space signalling your devastating fate. Her smile was long gone, being replaced by an empty calm washing over her relaxed features, a contrast to her actions when she shoved you down to the dusty floor where you belonged.

“You’re guilty, tell me what you’re guilty of.” A small gasp choked out of your clenched throat when her hand found your cheeks, squeezing it and muffling your noises.

You don’t know what you’re guilty of.

“Giselle, I-I don’t know.” You repeated yourself from earlier, affirming how clueless you really are.

Disappointed, she let out a low tsk and threw your head against the floor, unconcerned by your state as always. Her posture straightened, she stared you down, continuing the prolonged and agonising eye contact as her shoe presses down your neck, nuzzling against your windpipe letting the air turn into a privilege instead of a basic necessity.

“I’ve heard you’re dating someone.” Finally, Giselle states the information she sucked out of someone forcefully from a week ago roughly; it has been nagging her for days now.

You? With someone else? Cannot be in her eyes.

“Are you dating someone? If so, you better fuckin’ tell me.” A defeated cry responded instinctively, her shoe crushing a little harder now making it impossible to mutter a no.

Noticing ever so slightly, she decided for once not to let her fury control her actions so she drew her shoe away before kicking your neck a little at the new mark blooming.

“No… no,” you chanted desperately, as if trying to convince yourself rather Giselle.

Doubt flickered in her eyes, she stilled. “If you dare to lie to me, especially about this, I’ll break your neck.” Shouting was much preferred than her blurting the threat with no visible emotion lacing her hoarse voice.

She crouched down, caressing your hair and letting her long fingers entangle in your messy locks. “Did it hurt?” Obviously, the pain burned cruelly.

Pain always reminded you of Giselle.

No response, she expected it and gently tilted your head to meet her eyes again. God, she would never admit it—but she adored your eyes, too much even so. Specifically if glazed with restrained tears because of her.

“Whoever made that little rumour about you… will pay, it made me so angry when I found out. You didn’t reply to my calls or messages when you were away from school for a week. A week. You can’t blame me for thinking the worst.” Giselle ranted on, her hands cupping your rosey, warm cheeks due to the flu still lingering within you.

Scoffing, she looked away gingerly. “Don’t do that again, you… you made me so worr- mad.”

“I wouldn’t.” Reassurance from you was all she needed, her body eases into relief and her knees fell to the ground.

Her lips slowly brushed against yours for comfort, melting into your broken body as she held you up as if she was your saviour arriving at the scene of rescue.

Even if she was the villain all along.

Hesitantly, she pulled away, her forehead touching yours. “Let me do all the work, maybe making up for being a little mean from earlier, hm?” You tensed, this was your first time being so close to a sexual contact with an individual.

You were a loser, an inexperienced clumsy loser. “I-I, I’m a virgin, Giselle.” Embarrassingly you confessed and she didn’t seem bothered.

She was excited, the possessive monster provoked by the mere fact you were untouched before her.

“Can I be your first, please?” This was the first time ever she uttered those words, and it was to ask for your virginity.

You had to say yes, it was Giselle! After all those long sleepless nights shamelessly moaning her name when you neared an orgasm, you could experience her true touch.

“Yes, yes, yes please.” Babbling out so desperately, your voice cracked amidst the pleading.

Giselle glanced around, she shifted herself closer, her body covering yours and pressed her finger against your lips. “Be quiet baby.”

Unprovoked, she kissed you again and slipped her hand underneath your shirt, the coldness of it made you shiver as her fingers trailed up to your breast and massaged teasingly slow.

Trailing down mouth-opened kisses against your jaw, she nipped on your neck and collarbones and sucked hard creating hickeys, branding you as hers. The soft moans eliciting from your parted lips caused some unrecognisable emotions stirring in her, she clasped her palm on your lips, effectively silencing you.

“Today, I’m going to pleasure you.” She breathed out shakily, her hands ripping through your leggings revealing your soaking underwear where she shoved it aside to see her prize.

Humming approvingly, she grinned at the sight and traced her fingers on your leaking cunt, rubbing circles on it with her thumb making you adorably squeak and jolt in surprise.

“Shh, it might hurt at first… but you endured worse, didn’t you y/n?” Whispers of bittersweet reassurance stuck by your side temporarily as her slender, cold finger slid inside you quite easily because of how wet you were.

A startled moan echoed through the storage room, she pressed her free hand harder to suppress the upcoming more.

“Quiet, quiet.. be quiet for me, wouldn’t you, baby?” The use of the rare nickname usually reserved for taunting you had another side to it, the side that let your thighs tremble.

Fascinated, admiration seeped through her tone with her gaze fixated deeply onto you—like how deep her finger was in you, letting the pace go slow (for now) to let you be comfortable with the sudden intrusion.

“Another finger, you can handle another one for me, okay?” Giselle snuck in one more, her dreamy eyes silently forcing you to keep an eye contact with her despite how dazed you were, how unbearable the burning sensation was.

You could barely do this.

“Just like that, baby.. take me, take my fingers.” She practically moaned in your ear, mimicking yours, wishing to use a strap instead on you. Not caring if you were an inexperienced loser.

“Mhf.. Giselle…” you attempted to coordinate words together, managing to say her name at the end.

It turned her on more if that was possible.

Jamming in and out a little more roughly; she savoured your muffled gasps and moans, the way your chest heaves in struggle, and the way it was because of her. Your uncontrollably tremulous hands sought solace, your nails clawing her back as your leg sprawled wide for easier access.

“Just like that baby, take me like this..” she breathes out, inching closer and closer to the pending orgasm she was so eager to witness.

When your back arched, your clenched pussy convulsing around her fingers, black dots scattering in your blurry vision from tears welling up, Giselle hastily removed her hand and swallowed your cries in a rough and sloppy kiss when white liquid trickled down her hands.

“Mhm, good girl. You’re my pretty good girl,” she patted you, breathless by the whole encounter when you’re not even recovering and cleaned her fingers up by sucking it, enjoying the new taste.

“Yes..” out of it, you simply complied. Like always.

Pleased, Giselle nodded, fixing your clothes and tugging your skirt down. “I’ll bring you a new pair from my locker, one second.” She stood up, dropping her blazer on you to cover what was hers and opened the door carefully before exiting quietly.

You don’t know what you got yourself into.

[tinyproprodigy]

Study Sessions

Bakugou Katsuki x reader (NB)

Despite his gruff exterior and tendency to lash out, Bakugo is actually quite knowledgeable when it comes to academics. He may yell at his friends for "being extras," but he takes studying seriously as part of his goal to become the #1 hero.

When you first approach him about studying together for the 2 weeks before a major UA exam, Bakugo's immediate reaction is to scoff and reject the idea outright. "As if I'd waste my time with an extra like you," he sneers. But there's the slightest tint on his cheeks that gives away his state.

You persist, however, insisting that you'll cover any areas he struggles with as well in exchange. Begrudgingly, Bakugo agrees, muttering something about you "getting in the way of his own studies."

In the quiet of the library, with just the two of you poring over textbooks, Bakugo's typical bravado melts away. You catche yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the determined furrow of his brow as he does his work, or when he's in deep focus trying to asses if you made any visible mistakes you could correct together.

To your surprise, Bakugo is an incredibly patient and effective tutor when he's in this mellowed-out headspace. He explains concepts clearly, using vivid metaphors that stick in your mind. "Imagine the laws of physics are the verbal lashings pushing you in the right direction," he says with unexpected wisdom.

There are even times when you manage to grasp an idea before he does, and rather than exploding in frustration, Bakugo simply blinks and asks you to walk him through it again. The shift in his usual demeanor is so jarring that you have to pinch yourself to make sure it's really happening.

When you nail a particularly tricky practice question, pride blooms in your chest when his crimson eyes read it over, a small nod of acknowledgement. "Not bad, (L/N)..." he mumbles, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "Keep that up and you might not be such a dead weight after all."

There's an unguarded tenderness to the way he watches you work 1 week in, his usual scowls relaxing into the microscopic hint of a smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest. In these quiet moments, you catch glimpses of the real Bakugo hiding underneath all that bluster.

Of course, the blustery Bakugo inevitably resurfaces when your study sessions end and you return to the hustle of the classroom. He'll loudly berate you for taking so long or getting distracted. But you'll just smile to yourself, knowing you've seen the explosive boy's almost serene side.

As you leave the library, wondering how someone so coarse could also be so attentive and insightful, Bakugo watches you go in silence before regrouping with his friends.

By the time your test rolls around, you're prepared and confident thanks to Bakugo's tutelage. And while he'd never admit it out loud, there's a part of him that hopes you'll ask for his "help" again very soon. Maybe in the next terms exam.

[dreameyess11]

James

James Potter x Reader

You sit across the hall, your textbooks open but long forgotten. Your gaze drifts again, as it always does, to him. His dark, untidy hair catches the torchlight, and those round glasses of his reflect the golden glow of the Great Hall. James Potter. A name you’ve turned over and over in your head like a secret, a charm you’re too scared to cast out loud.

You’ve spent months like this, stealing glances when you’re sure he’s too busy laughing with Sirius, or gesturing wildly as he retells a Quidditch move to Peter. Sometimes he’s so absorbed in a conversation with Lily Evans you’re almost grateful, because it makes him easier to look at without fear of being caught. But today, something shifts.

It’s a Tuesday, and you’ve got Transfiguration next, but your head is too full of him to think about lessons. You risk another glance, just one more before you leave the hall, and your stomach drops.

James is looking right at you.

Your breath hitches. You freeze mid-motion, your hand gripping your goblet too tightly, and in that awful, wonderful moment, he smirks. It’s the kind of smirk that tilts at the corner of his mouth, mischievous and knowing. His hazel eyes glint with something you can’t name, and before you know it, he’s leaning toward you.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice casual but somehow making your heart race like you’ve just fallen off your broomstick. "My name’s James."

It’s ridiculous—of course you know his name. Everyone knows his name. He’s James Potter, Quidditch star, Gryffindor hero, Marauder ringleader. But somehow, hearing him say it to you makes your cheeks burn. You stammer out your name, and he grins wider.

And that’s when it begins.

At first, it feels like magic, like something out of the books you’ve pored over in the library late at night. He talks to you in the hallways, waves when he sees you during meals. Once, he even steals your quill in class and pretends he doesn’t know what you’re talking about until you’re chasing him around the desks. For a brief, dazzling moment, it feels like all those hours you spent dreaming of him weren’t wasted.

But then you start to notice the jokes. The way he rolls his eyes when Sirius whispers something in his ear. How he doesn’t take anything seriously, least of all you. It’s all harmless fun to him, you realize, even as your heart twists itself into knots. He isn’t looking for the same kind of magic you are.

And yet, you can’t stop thinking about him. About his laugh, his messy hair, the way he says your name like it’s part of some elaborate prank he hasn’t explained yet. He’s a fool, you tell yourself. A foolish, arrogant, brilliant boy who doesn’t even know what he’s done to you.

You spend hours wondering how you let yourself fall for him, dreaming of what could have been. And yet, even as the weeks pass, you still feel the heat of those flames. James Potter. A name you’ll carry with you, even after he’s long forgotten yours.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Serpents' Courtship

Pairing: Slytherin Boys x reader

Warnings : Fluff

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy! Please do tell me who you would like to see win out of all of the boys and I’ll even make them a fanfiction for that!

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The cold, damp air of the dungeons made your fingers ache as you leaned over your bubbling cauldron. Professor Slughorn was making his rounds, praising students whose potions had even a glimmer of hope, but his attention lingered on yours longer than anyone else’s.

“Absolutely splendid, my dear,” Slughorn beamed, clasping his hands together. The silver sheen of your Draught of Peace glimmered in the dim light, the perfect consistency and color glowing faintly as if it were enchanted.

From the back of the room, you felt eyes on you—sharp, calculating gazes that made your skin prickle. You dared to glance up and were met with the piercing stares of the Slytherin boys.

---

The first to approach you was Theodore. You were in the library the following evening, poring over an advanced Charms textbook when he silently slid into the seat across from you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, already setting his books down. His tone was low, calm, as though he already knew the answer.

“Not at all,” you replied, though you were hyper-aware of his presence.

For a while, he didn’t speak, letting the sound of quills scratching parchment fill the space between you. Just when you thought he’d forgotten you entirely, he looked up, his pale blue eyes catching yours.

“You’re meticulous,” he said simply.

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

“Your potion,” he clarified. “I’ve seen Slughorn praise students before, but never like that. You impressed him—and me.”

The warmth in your chest was immediate, but before you could thank him, he pushed a book toward you. “I thought you might find this useful. There’s a section on advanced brewing techniques.”

He left without another word, leaving you flustered and curious.

---

The next morning, as you left Transfiguration, Lorenzo Berkshire caught up to you with a lazy grin.

“So,” he began, falling into step beside you, “how does it feel to be the center of attention?”

You gave him a sideways glance. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play coy,” he teased, his dark hair falling over his forehead. “Half the Slytherin house can’t stop talking about you. Though I suppose I can’t blame them.”

His smile was dazzling, the kind that could charm a professor into giving him an extension. “But between you and me, I think they’re all wasting their time. You seem like someone who prefers a bit of excitement.”

“Excitement?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

“Something more daring than dusty books and dungeons. How about a late-night adventure? The Forbidden Forest, perhaps?”

“Is that even allowed?” you asked, your voice tinged with both disbelief and curiosity.

Lorenzo leaned closer, his grin widening. “Who said anything about allowed?”

---

Draco Malfoy didn’t bother with subtlety. You were heading toward the Great Hall when he appeared in your path, his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Walk with me,” he commanded, not waiting for your response before falling into step beside you.

“Is there something you need, Malfoy?” you asked, slightly annoyed.

He tilted his head, his pale hair catching the torchlight. “Just wondering why you’re wasting time with the likes of Nott and Berkshire. They’re amateurs.”

“And you’re not?” you challenged.

Draco chuckled, the sound low and confident. “I know how to treat someone like you. Dinner in the Room of Requirement tomorrow night. Just us. No interruptions.”

His tone left no room for argument, but before you could respond, a familiar, velvety voice interrupted.

---

“Don’t let him fool you,” Blaise said, appearing at your other side. “Malfoy’s idea of romance is showing off his Gringotts vault.”

Draco scowled. “Jealous, Zabini?”

Blaise ignored him, his dark eyes fixed on you. “You deserve better than pomp and arrogance. A private evening under the stars, with good wine and even better company. That’s more your style, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Blaise cut you off with a small smile. “Think about it. You’ll know where to find me.”

Draco muttered something under his breath, but Blaise simply walked away, his effortless confidence leaving you flustered.

---

Matteo’s approach came during Defense Against the Dark Arts. The class had barely ended when he turned to you, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“I hear you’re quite talented,” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“An invitation,” he corrected. “A duel. You against me. Unless you’re afraid, of course.”

“Why would I agree to that?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Matteo smirked. “Because you like a challenge. And because it’s the only way you’ll see me at the Yule Ball.”

---

Tom’s approach was the most unnerving. He didn’t confront you in public or send notes like the others. Instead, he cornered you in the library late one evening, his presence overwhelming.

“You’re wasting your time with them,” he said, his voice soft but commanding.

“And you think you’re a better option?” you replied, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

Tom’s lips curled into a faint smile. “I don’t compete. They chase you because they’re afraid to lose. I know that you’ll come to me—eventually.”

There was no malice in his tone, only cold certainty. He stepped closer, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You’re extraordinary. Don’t settle for anything less.”

---

The evening of the Yule Ball arrived, and with it came six invitations—each more elaborate than the last.

Draco sent enchanted roses that filled your dormitory with their delicate fragrance. Blaise delivered a handwritten note promising an evening of elegance. Lorenzo caught you in the common room with a charming grin and an invitation to dance under the stars. Matteo challenged you to a duel, claiming he wouldn’t attend unless you bested him. Theodore left a rare book with a simple, heartfelt invitation tucked inside. And Tom? He didn’t send anything. He simply waited, confident you’d choose him.

As you stood before the mirror, smoothing the fabric of your dress robes, you realized that the choice wasn’t about them. It was about you—what you wanted, who you trusted, and where your heart truly lay.

——

The air buzzed with excitement as you descended the staircase to the Great Hall, your dress robes shimmering under the flickering light of the enchanted candles above. The Yule Ball was in full swing, music echoing off the high ceilings and laughter spilling across the floor. Yet, despite the festive atmosphere, you could feel the weight of six pairs of eyes on you.

Each of them stood in different corners of the hall, waiting, calculating. You weren’t sure if it was rivalry, pride, or something more genuine that had driven them to this point, but tonight was their stage, and you were the star.

You took a deep breath, smoothing the fabric of your gown. If they wanted your attention, they’d get it—each and every one of them.

---

The first to approach was Theodore, who appeared beside you with a quiet, composed demeanor. His hand extended toward you, palm up, his pale blue eyes never leaving yours.

"May I have the honor of the first dance?" he asked, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret between the two of you.

You nodded, placing your hand in his. His grip was steady but gentle, and as he led you onto the floor, you couldn’t help but admire the quiet confidence in his movements.

“I hope you’re not overwhelmed,” he murmured, guiding you through the steps of a slow waltz.

“A little,” you admitted, meeting his gaze.

He gave a small, rare smile. “You have nothing to prove. Just enjoy the moment.”

His words were reassuring, but before the song could end, someone else stepped in.

---

“Mind if I cut in?” Lorenzo’s voice interrupted, his grin wide and unapologetic as he tapped Theodore on the shoulder.

Theodore gave you a look, as if asking for your permission. You nodded, and Lorenzo took your hand without hesitation, spinning you away in a flurry of movement.

“Did Theo bore you yet?” he teased, his steps quick and playful.

“Not at all,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“Good,” Lorenzo replied, his smile softening. “But I think you need a little more excitement.”

He twirled you dramatically, making you laugh louder, and for a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Until, of course, Draco appeared.

---

“That’s enough, Berkshire,” Draco said, his tone clipped as he stepped between you and Lorenzo.

Lorenzo raised his hands in mock surrender, though his grin remained. “All yours, Malfoy.”

Draco didn’t waste time, taking your hand and leading you into the next dance with practiced precision. His movements were sharp, almost mechanical, but his silver eyes burned with intensity.

“They’re all playing games,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear. “But I mean what I say. You deserve someone who can give you everything.”

His confidence was almost overwhelming, but before you could respond, Blaise appeared at your side.

---

“Malfoy,” Blaise said, his voice calm but firm, “you’ve had your turn.”

Draco glared but didn’t argue, stepping back reluctantly as Blaise took your hand.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Blaise said, his voice as smooth as velvet as he guided you across the floor.

His movements were unhurried, graceful, and you couldn’t help but feel at ease in his presence.

“You’ve had a lot of attention tonight,” Blaise remarked, his lips curling into a small smile. “But I hope you know none of it is empty.”

His words lingered in your mind, even as Matteo interrupted with a sly grin.

---

“Careful, Zabini,” Matteo said, his tone laced with amusement as he slid into the dance. “You’ll put her to sleep with all that smooth talk.”

Blaise rolled his eyes but stepped back, leaving you in Matteo’s capable hands.

“You’re surprisingly popular tonight,” Matteo said, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he spun you around. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Did I?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Matteo laughed, the sound rich and full of life. “You’re clever enough to know. But tell me, which of us has impressed you the most?”

Before you could answer, a familiar, quiet presence appeared.

---

“Matteo,” Tom said, his voice soft yet commanding, “your time is up.”

Matteo sighed but didn’t argue, stepping back with a bow. “All yours, Riddle.”

Tom’s hand found yours, his touch firm but not unkind. As he led you into the final dance, his presence seemed to envelop you entirely.

“You’ve humored them long enough,” he said, his voice low. “But you know none of them can offer you what I can.”

“And what’s that?” you asked, your heart racing.

“Greatness,” he replied, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “The kind that changes the world.”

---

The music slowed, and the dance ended, leaving you standing at the center of the floor with all six boys watching you. Each of them had something unique to offer—Theodore’s quiet support, Lorenzo’s playful charm, Draco’s confidence, Blaise’s effortless grace, Matteo’s boldness, and Tom’s magnetic pull.

But tonight wasn’t just about them. It was about you, and you held the power in your hands.

The question was, who would you choose? Or would you let the night remain as it was—a fleeting moment of attention from the most ambitious boys in Slytherin?

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! – Midnight💜

[ponderingmoonlight]

Making JJK men realize what love is

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Warnings: language, near death experience in Sukuna's part, fluff over fluff, not proofread

feel free to enjoy 🤍

Geto Suguru

He hates those monkeys. Like a mantra, he reminds himself over and over again while he watches you from afar, stunned from your sudden presence. How your delicate hips swing from side to side on this hot summer day, how flawless you look when those innocent rays of sunshine hit your skin just right.

And then your eyes meet yours. Oh, how he hates the way his heart skips a beat, how a small smile forces itself onto his lips while your whole face lights up in an instant, feet stopping right in their tracks in order to rush towards him.

You met Geto Suguru when you were at your lowest, haunted by sleepless nights and the feeling of being watched all the time. Just when you were on the brink of going insane, you found out about this strange cult leader who healed countless people before you. With one swift motion of his somehow elegant hands, you were healed, regained your smile, your will to live.

And somehow, you can’t help but get mesmerized by that man with the charismatic brown eyes and smile so gorgeous that you simply can’t keep your mind off him.

Suguru clenches his hands into fists, forces a wall up his heart so high that you can’t climb it. This is ridiculous, so disgusting that he can’t look at himself in the mirror anymore. You are a monkey, a non-jujutsu sorcerer. Damn, you are like every other girl that rushed to him, dark circles underneath your bright orbs, begging on your knees for relief. But why…Why does his heart almost beat out of his chest, seeing you in that cute summer dress? He should kill you right here on the spot, should end your puny life just like he did with others countless times before. You are nothing but a disgusting human, a bug underneath his boots.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here!”, you cry out, storming his way with your hair waving in the light breeze like in those trashy movies Shoko always forced him to watch.

“I was actually on my way home”, he explains softly, cursing himself over and over for his gentle tone.

Damn, he didn’t even take your money back then.

“I…I don’t know if a simple thank you will ever be enough”, you breathed out.

Just before you stormed towards him.

Just before you wrapped your hands around his neck tightly, pressed your delicate body against his, engulfed him with the warmth of your presence.  

Suguru couldn’t help but just sit there, widened eyes staring at the wall opposite of him where the blood of his last victim still shone through the white paint.

You, a monkey, dared to touch his figure with your disgusting hands? The instinct of pushing you away while killing you right on the spot came swiftly, but somehow…

He loses his breath when you wrap your arms around him again, your intoxicating smell making his heart skip a beat along with the sensation of your naked skin touching his.

Something about you is different.

“I actually just went shopping for you”, you bubble out, fingers hectically searching for something specific in the countless shopping bags you carry with you.

Is it your well-formed figure, how your body seems to fit right in his hands? Is it your tender appearance or the way your fingertips seem to touch his heart instead of his skin? How your words always hit the right nerve, make him waver, make him wonder? No, despite being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you radiate nothing but kindness. There is in fact no cursed energy dripping out of any pore of your delicate body, not a single spark of negativity since the day he took that curse off your shoulders.

You are pure, you are kind. And you seem to be the only person apart from that man years ago who has absolutely zero cursed energy, who isn’t responsible for these curses. You are everything he hates, everything he fights against and yet you’re not.

And you aren’t even aware of it.

“I know you prefer salty over sweet, so I got you this. It’s a speciality…-“

Suguru can’t listen any longer, eyes fixated on the way your pretty mouth moves and your wild mimics. How nice it must feel to caress them with his very own mouth until they get puffy, feeling your breath hitch against his cheek while he holds you in his arms.

No. He shakes his head ever so slightly. You are a monkey, he hates you. He hates the way he urges to make you laugh just to hear you giggle. He hates the way his eyes always find you even in the crowdiest places in Tokyo, how his breath hitches even though he has seen you so often. He hates how he instinctively visits the places he knows you love, the back of his heart always searching for you.

His heart…What is this strange feeling? He hasn’t felt anything despite hatred and grief for so long that it might be a heart attack.

Gently, you open his hand and place a little package inside of his, orbs shining so brightly that he gets lost in them again.

No. That warmth spreading in his guts tells him otherwise. This isn’t a heart attack, let alone hatred.

“I think I love you, (y/n).”

He watches how your eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, the other package you were holding in your now numb hand falling to the ground.

“You-…what?”, you stutter.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He shouldn’t have thought, let alone say something like this. Love? Suguru doesn’t love anyone. He killed his own parents, wouldn’t even shy away from killing his former best friend if he has to. No, in Suguru’s world there is no place for a heart, especially not for loving a monkey, a disgusting creature-

The stinging sensation from your tender touch against his cheek makes his mind go blank, forces his eyes to meet yours. That breath-taking smile on your face, your fingertips caressing his oversensitive skin…

“I think I love you too, Suguru.”

Suguru fails to breathe, fails to do anything apart from staring at you. You, loving him back?

Why would anyone love someone like him?

“You can’t love someone like me. Not after all the things I’ve done, the things I’m still about to do. You wouldn’t say that-“

“The moment I met you I knew about the things you did. I saw those blood splatters on the wall, your cold gaze. But now all I’m seeing is warmth. All I’m seeing is you.”

He’s lost at words, lost at sight. At the moment, there’s only one thing to do, one thing that feels right.

And that is pressing his lips against yours the way he always imagined, allowing his hands to press your body closer to his, enjoy the sensation of your breath hitching against his mouth.

Maybe this is what love feels like. After all this time…

It’s you.

Ryomen Sukuna

“(y/n) is in great danger, master Sukuna-“

“Why would I care about that?”, the king of curses mutters to himself in an instant.

The truth is, his nerves are tingling, mind clouded by countless questions. How did you manage to get yourself into danger when you are considered the queen of curses, so powerful that people slowly but surely forgot to fear him? It shouldn’t seek his interest that you might get killed, it isn’t any of his business. After all, you are nothing but his opponent, a pain in his ass.

“I got bored, so I made sure you’ll get reincarnated, pretty boy”, you teased him, your low voice being the first thing he heard when he awoke.

“Shit, I hoped you’re dead by now”, he replied in sheer boredom.

Like in slow motion, you emerged out of the darkness with your body as hot as it was when he last saw you 500 years ago. Your hand wrapped itself around his neck tightly, deadly orbs glared right through his soul.

“I won’t die before you, Sukuna.”

Somehow, he always relied on the fact that you never left his side. A sickening feeling of discomfort crawls up his back, flashbacks of your oh so pretty face haunting his mind. It would be so easy to let you get killed right here and now in Shibuya. What a relieve it would be to be the kind of curses and not getting questioned by your presence.

But something lifts him off his throne, forces him to listen to the words that hit the brat’s ears. What is he supposed to do?

“Take your dirty hands off me and show me where she is, curse.”

The curse on top of him stumbles backwards, gives him the space he needs to stand up and look around when he’s finally in control of this puny human shell. Fuck, his life would be so much easier without you in it. But still, Sukuna finds himself pinning that volcano curse against a nearby wall, almost scratching his face off with his free hand.

“Show me where she is or die.”

“She was severely injured by Gojo Satoru”, the curse presses out.

“Satoru Gojo is sealed, you fool.”

“But he wasn’t back then. She wasn’t able to heal herself and until now, she is still trapped underneath a curtain.”

“Show me.”

Every breath hurts while your body is plastered onto the floor, limbs not able to move a single inch. That bastard really caught you off guard. You weren’t even able to unleash your full potential when he hit you with a wave of hollow purple and slammed you into a building until you hit the ground, taping you into this hole with a curtain.

You aren’t an idiot. Absolutely no one is able to save you in that state, not when the queen of curses herself isn’t able to pull herself out of that situation. You were a fool when you thought you were ready to face him with a third of your full potential.

“Rookie mistake”, you breathe out, a muted laughter escaping your lips along with a trail of blood.

You never imagined your life to end like this, especially through the hands of a random jujutsu sorcerer. How will he react when he finds out?

He. Sukuna. The kind of curses, your opponent for as long as you can think of, your greatest enemy until he disappeared into thin air. But no, this isn’t enough. Hatred doesn’t fit your feelings towards him quite right and you’ve known it for a long time.

Out of instinct, you shake your head so violently that you feel like breaking your own neck. How ridiculous to even consider these kinds of feelings, to let this cursed word cross your clouded mind. Love is weakness, love is an invention of dumb humans, nothing for a queen of curses. 

Your glossy eyes wander to your lifeless hand, covered in your very own blood, touched by him countless times before.

“I’ll kill you”, Sukuna hissed through gritted teeth while grabbing your hand and yanking it over your head.

“Tempting, but I have to decline”, you replied sarcastically, holding his threatening gaze without any issues.

“I fucking hate you, (y/n). God, you’re driving me insane.”

“What’s wrong, king of curses? Are you irritated by a simple woman like me?”, you teased him, his body so close that you could feel his heat.

“A simple woman? You are the devil”, he spat at you.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. What a shame that you didn’t manage to get on his nerves one last time. Hopefully he gets the job done and kills this whole fucking town.

Hopefully, he won’t forget about you. Slowly but surely your lids close themselves, ears ringing so violently that you fail to concentrate any longer. How nice it would have been to see Sukuna one last time.

To feel him one last time…

“Now, what do we have here? Are you really about to die here?”

“Don’t haunt me before I die”, you mutter, voice so muted that Sukuna almost fails to understand you.

You look absolutely broken, your body literally teared into pieces. And that curtain on top of you…That curse was right, this doesn’t look good at all. And somehow the king of curses feels panic rise inside of him, the sight of your breath getting stuck in your throat washing away the cheeky grin plastered on your face when reality hits him with full force.

You could die right here and now.

He doesn’t think twice. With a swift motion, he frees you from the curtain that was nothing but a minor shadow on top of you anymore, eaten up by your immense powers. Before his mind is able to stop him, he lifts your puny figure off the ground, carefully pressing your head against his chest.

“Don’t you dare to die here”, he warns you with a voice so soft that he is almost afraid of himself.

What the hell is this strange feeling that holds onto his heart, that doesn’t allow his gaze to leave your face? Your oh so gorgeous face, so shamelessly beautiful that it hurts.

“Almost sounds as if you’d care about me…”

He stops in his tracks, arms pressing you even tighter against his own body while your words echo through this fear-clouded mind.

“Because I do.”

His mouth replies faster than his mind is able to stop him, forcing your tired eyes open.

“You do…what?”

“Forget about that”, he mumbles in an instant, quickly starting to walk again.

“Say that again.”

“I would rather kill you.”

Toji Fushiguro

“What the hell are you doing here, Toji?”

“Was waiting for ya. Here, I ordered you something to eat.”

You roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin while letting yourself fall onto a chair opposite of him. It has been like this between you and Toji since you can remember, meeting up in a worn-down café to discuss another mission. Your life has always been shit. As a bounty hunter, you were on your own most of the time, relying exclusively on your own abilities. But when Toji came into your life, something changed.

You were never a couple, but still…The way he grins at you from time to time simply leaves you speechless, reminds you that there’s actually more about life than earning money to keep your head over water.

Stop this madness.

“You need something, right?”

There’s absolutely no use in thinking about these stupid things. Toji lost his wife some time ago, even has two kids. He told you over and over that he’ll never get into a relationship again, that he isn’t interested in dedicating his life to a single woman.

You stare at the fried rice in front of you, slowly but surely starting to eat. He definitely doesn’t feel the same.

“This is good”, you mutter with full mouth, a small smile forming on your lips.

But Toji can’t keep his gaze off you. From the first time he was forced to work with your annoying ass, you were always very easy to look at. And then your personality came in. When was the last time he actually smiled before he got to know you? Fuck, he has absolutely no clue. But he does every single time you do. It became an addiction to him, doing everything in his power just to see the corners of your mouth twitch.

“What you’re looking at, man?”, you mumble in such an unladylike manner that Toji can’t help but lean back in his chair, a small grin creeping up his face.

“Nothing, little pig.”

“That’s definitely not how you talk to a lady”, a oh so familiar voice comments.

“(y/n) ain’t a lady.”

And there it is again. A grin so wide that it shows your teeth with a glimmer in your orbs that leaves Toji’s heart pounding against his ribcage. What a beautiful sight you are, what a truly remarkable woman.

It’s almost like-

“I’ll get going now. Join me later?”, you question towards him on your way up.

“Sure”, he replies out of instinct, watching longingly as you walk out of the café.

“What is that look I’m seeing on your face, huh?”

The man next to him lights up a cigarette while he watches you closing the door behind you.

“Stop talking shit.”

“Only a fool would miss the way you look at (y/n). Somehow you’re the only one who manages to make her smile.”

“Oh yeah?”

Your smile. Your oh so gorgeous smile that lights up entire galaxies, your smile he always imagines before going to bed.

“And it seems like she’s doing the same with yours.”

Finally, Toji glares at Shiu, a huff escaping his lips.

“What can I say? I like her.”

“Like? Don’t you mean love?”

“Yeah, maybe…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake@lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[igotanidea]

five more minutes: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

I'm (not) sorry, but that smug face fits right into this fanfiction!!

request/summary: Dick getting clingy when the reader needs to go somewhere

A/N: so, I think I'm back? Two weeks break and I'm getting into the swing of things again, so please go easy on me with this story......

***

When she wakes up in the morning something seems off almost instantly.

It only takes a second to realise that said thing took the form of Dick Grayson, her beloved boyfriend, the man by day and the fearless vigilante by night. The protector of Gotham and its people.

Well, if only the people could see him now.

Sleeping in a weird position with the imprint of the pillow on his cheek, messy hair and some dried saliva in the corner of his mouth.

He so cute and adorable like that. Y/N does the quick scan of his face and body in the search for any injuries he might have obtained during the patrol but her heart rests easy when she noticed him being all in one piece with no blood or stiches. Either it was a quiet and peaceful night or he already took care of himself. Her bets are the latter, but since it’s work day she doesn’t really have any time to wait until he wakes up to blame him for not being careful.

As quiet and swift as she can, Y/N tries to move out of bed, but since Dick’s senses are heightened she doesn’t really get far, when his arms wraps around her, keeping her in place.

“Dick……” she mutters

“Mhmmmm……” he mumbles into the pillow

“Come on, I have get  up!”

“no you don’t.”

“I gotta get to work!”

“I’m the only work you need……” he grins, still half-asleep, but so full of himself and she almost rolls her eyes at the joke

“God, please stop…. I need to earn money you know? Not all of us have a billionaire daddy!”

“You’re dating the billionaire oldest son, isn’t that enough?”

She wonders for a moment. On a second thought maybe it is. Dick seems to use that heartbeat of hesitation, shifting his body weight on her, pinning her to bed, his eyes still closed, but this little shit knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Dick!” she gasps feeling all those muscles crush her “shit!

“I like it when you call my name in such a desperate words. Do it just one more time and the neighbours will hate you forever.” He chuckles and his makes her skin tingle.

You’re heavy…..” she squirms trying to break free, but it’s no use. “You brought it on yourself….” The girl mutters poking on his ribs in the place where he’s extremely sensitive because of an old injury.

“Hey!” he yells, trying to defend himself and letting go off her in the process.

Y/N is quick to jump out of bed and rush towards her wardrobe, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt and struggling to put them on.

“Not so fast!” Dick tears her clothes from her hands and holds them high out of reach.

“Not fair Grayson!”

“You called me fat.”

“I called you heavy!’

“Same thing!”

“It’s not….. You know what, fine. I’ll just wear something else….” She shrugs and runs towards the drawer, but before she could reach it Dick grabs her from behind and holds her tight to him

“Dick…….” She whines stretching out just to grab something to wear. Anything.

“I know. I’m irresistible.”

“A pain in the ass is what you are!”

“I can make you breakfast….” He tempts

“You’re not Jason, Dick. Making me breakfast means putting cereals In the bowl and poring some milk over it in your dictionary. Cold milk. And that is only if I bought both cereals and milk.”

“did you?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Can’t you see how hard I’m trying? Just for you. Come on, you are like an employee  of the month. Or even a year. Stay…..” he kisses her neck playfully “you can call in sick.”

“I used all my sick days because of you.”

“How about casual leave?”

“and what may be the emergency?” she sighs in defeat, her body going limp as she drops the fighting knowing well enough she won’t win it. “Clingy boyfriend?”

“You called me boyfriend!” he grins again and she facepalms herself.

“We’ve been together for a year Dick. Why do you seem surprised?”

“I could never get bored with hearing that word from you. Makes me proud that you’re mine.”

“trying to sweet talk me? Won’t work. By the way, you are soooooo cheesy Grayson.”

“And?” he asks

“ And? What and?”  at this point Y/N is confused, her eyebrows furrowing as she turns to meet his gaze

“And you love me?” he insist, spinning her around in his arms so that he can get easy access to her kissable face.

“Yeah…..” she smiles dreamily “yeah, I do love you, you idiot” she trails with a love sick puppy expression. But it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stay and be you babysi…..ah! Put me down!” she yells suddenly feeling her body lift of the ground without her knowledge or will. “Put me down Grayson! What are you……?! Damn it…!”

Dick does not listen or does not get impressed by her poor attempts to break free. He’s Nightwing. He’s got so many ways to immobilise the opponent. Or, in this case, lover.

“Dick I swear I am going to kick your ass if you don’t….!” the threat dies on her lips as he throws her onto the mattress and kisses her softly shutting her up in the process.

“Stay?” he pouts looking at her with those pretty doe eyes “Pretty please?”

“You act like a five year old!”

“A five year old that wants you. A five year old that misses you…”

“I’ll be back, you know……” she brush the strand of hair from his face. She’s already gone but still tries to keep the appearances.

“Yeah, at 6 p.m. or later. It’s almost the time when I get ready for my night shift…… Please…..”he whines nuzzling his nose over her neck “stay…..”

“please…..” she mimics his whining, caressing his cheek “let me go……”

“But I need you…….” He hide his face in her belly and his hair tickle

“Why do you always need me when I am supposed to go to work?’

“It’s a terrible and uncontrollable disease…..” he laughs

“Is there a cure?” she laughs back

“I can think of something….” He closes the gap between them, nibbling on her bottom lip. “and it may be working…. But I;m not sure. Need some more testing” he repeats his action. “Mhm, yes, it’s definitely working… You don’t want me to be sick, do you?”

“Not really. You are whiny and attention seeker when you are sick.”

“I am not!” he shouts in denial “ok, maybe I am. A little. But come on, you can stay some more time with me……”

“How long, dickie?” she smiles at him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“five more minutes?”

“ok. Five more minutes. She sighs deeply, letting go of any of her objections, letting Dick lay beside her and act like a big spoon, while holding her tight to his chest and caressing her sides and belly.

“You’re not letting me go, are you?” she whispers closing her eyes and getting lost in his touch.

“Never.”

And she’s pretty sure she can live with that.  

[43501]

Hello hello! I love your metas about L and Near, they're absolutely amazing. And so I have a question: how do you think L would respond to physical affection (a kiss on the cheek, a touch on the arm for reassurance) from someone he was infatuated with? I also wonder if he would be the first to say 'i love you' or to let the object of his infatuation know he did, well, fancy them. Because it's like you said: L is intense and takes chances, but in the case of love, the one who thinks it through doesn't necessarily win. Thank you in advance! Have a wonderful day

Hello, thank you for thinking so!

He doesn't seem at all displeased when Misa kisses him on the cheek, does he? His "I could fall for you" line is a lie, but in both manga and anime adaptations he seems to have liked it enough. I think L could easily accept physical affection from someone he was attracted to and sufficiently close to.

Not related to affection, but in general he doesn't seem unusually adverse to touch or anything like that. There are panels/scenes of him with his hand on Light's arm or shoulder. The only time he reacts poorly is that one scene with Aizawa, and that was for a different reason. Contrast to Near who I think is... not once depicted even getting close to another human being's personal bubble, not in manga or anime.

He looks like he scarcely registers it, but the first time you clap your hand on his shoulder to comfort him, or kiss his cheek in a moment of gratitude, he lingers over it a lot. The only affectionate touch he's known was holding Watari's hand and that was a long time ago, he's not a child anymore. When he's sleepless alone at night gazing at a wall of screens or poring over documents, he finds his mind wandering there, unbidden. He revisits the sensation and the feelings it stirred. They are not unwelcome feelings, he realizes. He would not be opposed to more.

For the matter of being first to confess, or even confessing at all... L will take calculated risks on things, but you know, he hedges his bets. Despite his own admission that love may not be something that can be "won" with logic, I don't think he can suppress his instinct to approach it the same way he approaches solving any other puzzle. There's a phase of observation and info-gathering, maybe he'll throw out certain statements or questions and measure your responses. To what success, I can't say. If you take HTR13 at its word he's only a little bit more socially aware than Near is.

He makes an indirect confession when he's determined the probability of you having romantic feelings for him is high enough (over 90%? 70? I'm not sure). The first time he makes his interest known, it's more like "I treasure the time we spend together" or "you're very important to me". Once he's certain you feel the same, he won't be shy about telling you he loves you. He's also not shy about returning it if you say it first, if he truly feels that way.

That said, that's my personal interpretation of the kind of guy L is based on a weird, patchwork amalgamation of his characterization across adaptations. I think "no, he'd just go for it and tell you he was interested in you straight up" is still a valid, canonical interpretation of L. It's really only the shy/hesitant/submissive L that's completely at odds with how he is in canon, but I rarely see people write him this way.

[eloquentlytired]

— when the time comes, part two

pairing: logan howlett x gn! reader

part one is here

drabble,fluff, wade is briefly here <3 and blind al (slay)

summary: perhaps logan’s wish to find you in a different timeline comes true. and this time he doesn't only find you, but wade as well.

author’s note: I was wondering if I should add laura somehow to this scene but I think it came out perfect like this! what if I make a part three for the dinner/table scene where they're all together with wade though enjoy babies !!! this low-key made me cryyy... as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

“this is logan.”

you turn around as wade’s voice echoes within the small apartment. you'd been roommates for a while since you both were struggling with rent and this sort of arrangement had been quite beneficial. your friendship with wade had flourished in no time and you had somehow managed to become less anxious with his help, always having silly laughs and finding nice things even in the toughest situations.

you begin moving away from the kitchen area as you hear a dialogue going on — wade, al and a voice that didn't remind you of anything.

“finally, sweet cheeks. thought i’d have to start a new pissing ritual for you to show up!” wade chimes while placing a hand on his hip and looking straight at you. Whatever follows after, it never reaches your ears.

you stand there frozen, spatula falling from your hands, as your gaze stares at the man behind wade. you don’t know him but at the same time you do. that messy hair, that beard and those eyes. whoever that man was, he must have felt what you were feeling as he also stills by wade’s side. the silence that follows is long and awkward for the others but not for you and this man; at least that's what wade points out and ruins the moment. “right. if you're done eye fucking each other — and by the way sweet cheeks I thought we had something special — but yes if you're done..” wade walks towards you and gently pushes the goofiest dog ever in your hands. what the fuck?

“—I have a bath to run. gotta get those pores unclogged before my big party.” you tried to protest but wade was already gone and al was leaving as well, muttering something about holy sugar time.

the pair of eyes across you never leave yours. you stare back at the strange man named logan; at least that's what you'd heard wade call him. “I...nice to meet you.” you finally whisper while slowly setting the dog down, your hand instinctively reaching towards logan. the taller man leans forward as well and holds your hand, shaking it in the process. “i’m logan. thanks for having me.” he murmurs and for a man his size, you didn't anticipate such simplicity and gentleness in his voice. your eyes fill with unshed tears and for an unknown reason logan reaches out to wipe them away before they stain your cheeks. you shudder at the strange familiarity of those warm digits upon your skin. logan swallows thickly. “do I know you?” he asks and you look at him with wide, sparkly eyes. you were the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. “it feels like it, doesn't it?” was the only reply you could offer him as he nods.

a moment passes. then two. logan drops his hand from your face, realizing the boundaries he's crossing. not that you really minded his touch. you quickly compose yourself and wipe the remaining wetness from your face before shifting your gaze in between logan and the kitchen.

“are- are you hungry,logan?” you suddenly ask, your voice kind of shaky.

the surprise on his face lasts briefly before a small but genuine smile settles on his features. “yeah. starving actually.” you chuckle. he does too.

as logan follows you into the kitchen, and despite wade’s awful singing coming from the bathroom, you think about the cheapest bed you can buy tomorrow for the third addition in your family.

[eldritch-spouse]

Fucking robot. Why does he always bother me during breaks? He doesn't even need breaks.

“Hi Xavier. Was there something that you needed?”

You know he likes you because he bothers to address you by your name. As opposed to a serialized string of numbers and letters.

The numbers before your shift code and initials make you wonder just how many of them there were before you. How many he tossed away after an unfortunate workplace accident. That tag on your uniform is more of a death sentence than anything.

'Like'... As if this tin can is actually able of feeling.

It's more realistic to say he sees value in you, for some reason, and employs some kind of social algorithm to fabricate a twisted sort of relationship.

" You have been consistently distracted lately. "

Is that a warning?

Two red abyss-like orbs cast a crimson filter upon your face. It always feels like Xavier is watching you a little too closely, monitoring more than just your verbal responses.

" Ah, my bad! " You force a wobbly smile. " I promise it doesn't get in the way of my wo- "

" It does. " He silences you immediately, imposing and unforgiving in his cold corrections. " Clients notice when you zone out. Your movement speed is drastically reduced and the chances of committing errors -which you have by now- is considerably increased. Spacing out this much is in no way acceptable behavior for a multitude of... "

Only the very real notion that he's noting your facial expressions stops you from rolling your eyes at the robot's tireless monolog regarding the dangers and consequences of being distracted at work. One of your eyes still manages to twitch, as if in defiance.

" Yes sir, I understand. " You try to cut in, try to abort that speech before it turns into a whole lecture.

One camera cranes down slightly. " Your reputation as the exemplary employee is being damaged. "

Xavier says this like it should make you anxious. You hate that he thinks of you as an example, that he emphasizes it constantly. Not only is it putting unnecessary pressure on you for no compensation, it's also costing you the few mild friendships you have worked to maintain in this hostile minefield of an environment.

The more he speaks of you as some ideal of professionalism, the more others give you judgemental side-eyes. Sneers. Avoid you. Spread snide comments that then find their way to you through gossip.

Maybe if Xavier stopped exalting your mediocre performance, your asshole coworkers would stop murmuring that you've been orally pleasing the glorified microwave.

Xavier doesn't even have a dick! Why would he?! He's an artifical stand in for a manager that only cares about the dehumanizing process of maximizing profit.

He doesn't have a penis. You think.

You only realize a long silence has installed itself this whole time when the robot breaks it.

" ... Are you ill? "

" Huh- No. No, I just have a lot on my mind. I'll work on it boss. "

There's another pause. This time, you presume Xavier is waiting for you to cave under pressure, or counting the pores on your complexion. You bet he'd know the exact number.

" You have not allowed access to more in-depth medical records. If I had such a permission, I would be able to rework your current shift into something more suitable for any preexisting conditions such as- "

" Uh no sir, no. I don't think that's relevant, it's probably just my sleep schedule. " The thought of Xavier knowing about your health beyond what is strictly necessary for employment is chilling to the core.

He takes the rejection silently, lenses refreshing.

" I know who is bothering you. "

Xavier says, so naturally and spontaneously that you gawk for a moment, forever surprised by his eery bursts of casual remarks.

" ... Pardon? "

These moments make it seem as if there's more than mere cold calculations running through his processor components.

Xavier drifts that much closer to you, now suffocating your personal space. Only the crimson of his camera lenses light the dingy alley you've chosen as your break spot.

" Incubus, Babesley. Masseur. He has self-inflicted carvings on his body consisting of infatuated statements and your name. "

You rattle for a second, the memory of the demon's mutilated chest surfacing, his wild and desperate eyes searching yours for a hint of approval that wasn't there, only disgust and fear.

" Wrathfolk, Mozgrag. Trapper. Teamed up with the incubus upon being confronted, effective in forcing his way to you at any cost. "

Another memory flashes by, burly hands carelessly tearing the horns out of someone's head, he'd look at you when the screams rang, attempting to prove something you only saw as terrifying murderous intent.

Shaken, irritated, afraid, you openly glare at Xavier.

" Why haven't you done anything... " It was too quiet to sound as confrontational as you wished.

There's a split second where his stiff arms twitch, like the machine was trying to roll its shoulders. Cameras tilt and reposition, erroneously assuming the light from his lenses is what's causing you to tear up.

" The customer is always right. " Faintly, or perhaps just in your head, his words sounded dragged out.

" Then what's the problem?! "

You can't help the childish irritation, the desire to pluck your hairs out of your scalp in a pull that might just tear your skin asunder. You want to scream and kick this stupid fucking machine until it shuts off. Why does he bother you during your breaks to ask things that make no sense, to unnerve you, to create contradictions. You've never had a positive interaction with this robot. Why would he mention those two if he seemingly has no problem with their attitudes?

You know he doesn't care, because your coworkers are also living through their own cases of harassment at the hands of the denizens of Hell. You've had to pretend you didn't hear the sound of a cashier's arm being twisted in all the wrong directions before. Reminded that quitting is not an option, that you can only pray such doesn't happen to you.

" Your performance- "

No. Shut up.

" Okay, let's do some math, Xavier. " You growl. " My precious work performance is being impacted by a lot of things, but mainly those two. Those two are customers, and the customer is always right, aren't they? So there's nothing to be done, yeah?! Stop- "

Your confidence begins to falter when you realize you've stepped out of line, that you snapped at your own superior. The fear of consequences flashes very briefly across your eyes. That's enough, you need to calm down. You need to leave.

Xavier's silence doesn't help.

" I'll... I'll be heading back to work now. "

Head hanging low, you attempt to swiftly retreat into work, halted quickly by cold metal wrapping around your arm.

His grip is as frighteningly solid as it is sudden.

You don't remember Xavier having ever touched you before.

When you squirm around to glance at him, ask what he thinks he's doing, those two cameras pin you into silent obedience. You could never hope to free yourself of his grasp, only if you wished to tear a limb out of its socket.

" Do you think I enjoy these limitations? "

There's a mute gasp. Then the pain of his grip tightening, restricting your blood flow into a tingling soreness. Your teeth bare themselves.

" I don't think you enjoy anything at all, machine. "

It was ruthless, yet, deep down, you almost believed it.

Xavier stares at you for another prolonged period of time, unaware that the pain in your arm is only worsening. You have no idea what occurs behind those lenses, what those words might mean to him.

Metallic fingers unclasp with the slowness of a decompressing blood pressure monitor, allowing you to yank your own limb back and hold it to your chest like an animal licking its wounds.

" ... This issue will be resolved. "

He doesn't make a move to follow after you. In fact, Xavier remains staring forward, at the empty space where you once stood.

Maybe you broke him. Who cares, he might give you peace for the rest of your shift.

[atomicladytimetravel]

Mirror Mirror

Summary: No Outbreak AU. After an upsetting encounter with a young girl at Sephora, Joel has to show his wife just how beautiful she is. Established relationship. No physical description of the character, just that she’s female and has hair long enough to gather into a ponytail. She = You. I just wanted to try a different format. Inspired by the many Sephora brat TikToks I’ve seen and my own depraved imagination. There may be a sequel later.

Warnings: Dom!Joel, Daddy kink (slight dd/lg vibes), throat fucking, choking, fingering, squirting, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, spanking, mirror play, unprotected sex, creampie. So…just general depravity. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Word count: 3,692

This has been edited. I realized I missed a whole chunk of text 😩

“Joel, have you been using my good shampoo? I just bought this bottle and I’m almost out.”

Joel Miller’s wife appears behind where he’s sitting on the couch, shampoo bottle in hand. She walks around to stand in front of him, brandishing the mostly empty bottle.

“Oh…yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “I like the way it makes my hair look.”

“No wonder you’ve been extra irresistible lately,” she giggles, tousling his very soft hair. “I’m gonna make a run to Sephora to get more. I’ll just get a bigger bottle.”

She grabs her purse, gives Joel a swift kiss and makes her way out the door.

When she enters the store, she heads straight for the shampoo. She picks out the biggest bottle of Living Proof Perfect Hair Day they carry and starts to walk towards the checkout counter. She passes a Drunk Elephant display and notices that exactly one bottle of the coveted drops is available. She’s been wanting to try them and decides to grab one while it’s there. She reaches for the bottle, and her hand is about to close around it when another slightly smaller hand snatches it.

“Ha! Got it!”

She turns to see a girl who could’ve been no more than twelve holding the drops with a triumphant and smug grin.

“Wow, uh, okay. I was gonna buy that.”

“Looks like you’re not now,” the girl says. Before she struts away, she turns back and says: “By the way…no amount of makeup in this store is going to fix the ugly on your face.”

She’s taken aback by the girl’s unsolicited insult. She waits to see if the girl meets back up with a parent (or adult of any kind) but she doesn’t - she buys the Drunk Elephant drops and exits the store alone.

“Jesus, kids just do whatever the fuck they want now I guess,” she thinks to herself. She buys her shampoo and thinks about the interaction for the entire twenty minute drive back home.

Upon her arrival home, she kicks off her shoes in the foyer and makes a beeline for the bedroom.

“I’m just gonna put this away, I’ll be right back,” she tells Joel. She does put the shampoo away, but she can’t help but hold onto what the girl at Sephora said to her. Before meeting Joel, her confidence level was near zero. He spent a lot of time convincing her that she’s beautiful, but this little girl obviously saw something Joel doesn’t.

She stands in front of the beautiful antique mirror Joel had gotten her as an anniversary gift after she fawned over it at an antique store. She picks herself apart in the full length mirror, pinching skin between her fingers and looking for any sign of aging, no matter how subtle. The longer she looks, the more she hates what she sees. Her nose isn’t right, her skin isn’t clear enough, her pores are way too fucking big. Her bottom lip trembles and tears spill from her eyes. Defeated, she shuffles to the bed where she buries her face into a pillow to stifle her sobs. This is how Joel finds her. He rushes to her side, kneeling beside the bed and rubbing her back soothingly.

“Whoa, hey…what’s wrong love?”

She tearfully recounts what happened to her at Sephora and Joel’s face turns stoney. All the work he’s done to make her love herself, to see herself the way he does was all undone in an instant - and over a fucking bottle of overpriced skincare.

“It sounds like you’ve forgotten everything daddy taught you, huh little one? Maybe you need a reminder.”

She sits up on her elbow and looks at him incredulously through her tears.

“Does it really look like I want to fuck right now Joel? How can you even want to fuck me anyway? Look at me!”

“I always want you baby girl. Always,” he replies earnestly. Then, he lowers his voice and his tone becomes dominant. “And now, you’re gonna be a good girl and let daddy show you. Right?”

She can’t deny him when he speaks to her this way. His dominant affection for her never fails to get her going. She sits up fully and wipes her tears.

“Yes daddy,” she responds. He gets to his feet and takes her hand in his, leading her around to the foot of the bed. He stands her in front of the mirror and, standing behind her, slowly begins to undress her. He starts with her top, placing his hands at her sides and pushing the fabric up her body. She raises her arms so that he can pull the top off and he discards it somewhere to the side.

Next is her bra, and he makes light work of unclasping it. The straps fall off her shoulders and she lets the bra slide to the floor. He cups her breasts in his large hands, kneading them and pulling gently on her nipples. She moans softly, arousal overriding the self pity she’d been feeling. Joel’s eyes meet hers in their reflection and the look of pure adoration and love on his face makes her feel silly for her insecurities.

“Look how fuckin’ gorgeous my wife is,” he tells her, his lips right next to her ear. He kisses just below her earlobe and she tips her head to the side to allow him to nuzzle her neck. She shivers as he sucks her skin, leaving red splotches behind that will surely be purple later.

He hooks his forefingers into the waistband of her leggings (and, simultaneously, her panties) and drags them down around her feet. She steps out of them, kicking them away with the toe of one foot. He straightens up and admires her naked figure in the reflection.

“You see this body, hmm? I love this body.”

He brushes his fingertips up the curves of her hips and the sensation elicits another soft moan from her. He takes her jaw in his hand and turns her head for a kiss, his other hand dipping between her legs teasingly.

“Mm, wet already? And I’ve barely touched you,” he muses. He walks the two of them backwards until the backs of his knees hit the mattress. He sits and scoots back far enough to give her room to situate herself between his legs.

“I want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I play with your pretty pussy, okay?” he instructs. “I want you to see what I see.”

He rests his chin on her shoulder and she meets his eyes in the mirror.

“Look at yourself, not at me.”

Her eyes, which are still puffy from crying, shift back to her own reflection.

“Now, say ‘I’m a pretty girl.’”

She hesitates and he smacks one of her breasts. The action catches her off guard and she gasps, but an unmistakable pang of arousal follows the stinging and she whimpers quietly.

“Say it,” he commands harshly in her ear and this time, she obeys.

“I’m a pretty girl.”

“There’s a good girl,” he praises, now massaging the breast he’s just smacked. Soft, sensual kisses are pressed to her neck as his free hand squeezes the flesh of her inner thigh. “Spread your legs for me now.”

She opens her legs and he begins rubbing her clit slowly, teasingly. Her eyes flutter as pleasure takes over and he whispers a reminder to keep them open in her ear. She lets her eyes focus on her reflection and, to her immense surprise, she kind of likes what she sees. Her mouth is parted to let her breathy moans escape and her pupils are lust blown. Her eyes flit to where Joel is rubbing circles on her clit; his hands are beautiful and watching his long middle finger trace the sensitive bundle of nerves makes her eyes roll back.

“That is actually so hot,” she moans. He grins satisfactorily.

“I know it baby. Got me hard as a rock back here.”

He slides his finger into her slowly and she begs him for another. She attempts to watch as he fingers her in earnest, but her eyes eventually slip closed. It’s hard to keep her focus on the mirror when he’s making her feel so good.

“Keep those eyes open,” he warns. “Don’t wanna miss the best part.”

“S-sorry daddy. It just feels so good.”

“Mm, I can tell. You’re fuckin’ soaked.” He curls his fingers and hits that spot inside her that would’ve made her eyes fly open if they weren’t already glued to the mirror.

“Oh fuck,” she swears breathily. “Please keep going like that.”

He can see on her face that she’s almost at her peak. He brings his other hand to her throat and gives it a light squeeze. She likes how she looks with his hand around her neck and his fingers inside her. It makes her cunt throb that much more.

“Oh god…daddy I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

“Got no intentions on stoppin’,” he says in her ear before nibbling on her earlobe. She feels the pressure building and with just a few more curls of his fingers, the coil snaps.

“Fuck!” she shouts. “I’m cumming…oh my god!”

He removes his fingers and a spray of fluid comes out of her. She squirts so hard that it hits the mirror. Her eyes roll back in spite of the effort she’s putting in to keep them open and her mouth opens in a silent scream. Joel rubs her clit furiously and doesn’t stop until she clamps her thighs around his hand.

“Jesus Christ baby, I love it when you do that,” he tells her before pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. “Did you see how pretty you look when you cum for me?”

She had, briefly. And she had to admit, it was pretty hot.

“Yes daddy,” she answers. She’s a little sheepish as she admits: “I kinda liked it.”

He chuckles at this.

“As you should baby girl.”

He kisses her and she reaches her hand behind her to squeeze the bulge in his sweatpants. He groans and she squeezes him just a little harder.

“Fuck, get on your knees for me,” he says. The two of them shuffle off the bed and she drops to her knees in front of him. He rids himself of his t-shirt and she yanks his sweats down. He’d forgone underwear and his cock springs free when the sweatpants go past his waist. He gathers her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his hand while she teases the tip of his cock. She drags her tongue along the vein that runs on the underside of his shaft and he hisses.

“Don’t fuckin’ tease me woman.”

She smirks, looking up at him and batting her lashes.

“Sorry daddy,” she giggles.

“Don’t let your newfound confidence get ya a punishment, princess,” he warns. Heeding this warning, she wraps her lips around the tip of his cock and takes him in until her nose touches skin.

“Ohhhh yeeeah,” he sighs, gripping her hair just a little tighter. “Love that mouth baby.”

She bobs her head back and forth a few times, pushing him a bit deeper down her throat each time. She gags just a little when he starts fucking her throat, but she’s able to recover.

“God, fuck yeah, swallow my cock baby. You’re so good at this.”

He thrusts forward a few more times before tugging on her hair and making her look up at him.

“What are you?” he demands.

“I’m a pretty girl,” she gasps, voice horse from having his cock in her throat. He taps her lips with his tip and she opens obediently, allowing him to continue fucking her throat. Tears spill down her cheeks as she gags.

“That’s right; and whose pretty girl are you?”

He takes his cock out of her mouth long enough for her to answer, “Yours sir!” before shoving it back in.

“God damn right. Good girl,” he praises as he continues to fuck her face. The ache between her legs becomes too much to bear and she slides a hand between them to play with her clit. Joel doesn’t miss this and he moans at the sight.

“You like getting your throat fucked, huh baby girl?”

She manages to make a sound akin to “uh-huh” and he chuckles through his nose.

“My good fuckin’ slut.”

She gasps for air when he pulls his cock out of her mouth, drool connecting her lips to his tip. He runs his thumb across her puffy bottom lip and smiles at her affectionately.

“Fuck baby, that’s a stunnin’ sight: red swollen lips and tears runnin’ down that pretty face,” he compliments. He bends down and kisses her roughly before helping her to her feet.

“I want you to come sit on my face,” he tells her. This is his favorite position to eat her out in and he insists on giving her multiple orgasms before even considering giving her (or himself) a breather. Not that she’s complaining.

“Don’t you dare hover,” he reminds her as he lies flat on the mattress. She straddles his face and lowers herself onto his outstretched tongue. He wraps his arms around the tops of her thighs, holding her in place as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“That feels so fucking good,” she moans. Joel’s eyes are glued to her face in anticipation of the moment she falls apart. That moment is going to come sooner rather than later; it only takes about a minute of him swirling his tongue around her clit to make her cum. He doesn’t stop there, cleaning up one orgasm and reveling in the taste while simultaneously leading her to another. He laps at her pussy while she unashamedly rides his face, chasing her next orgasm.

“Oh my g - fuck, please I’m cumming again!”

He moans into her pussy and reaches a hand down to wrap around his cock. He’s so hard he can’t stand it any longer. He strokes himself as she writhes above him, being anything but quiet. She falls forward and grips the headboard to steady herself. Joel sucks on her now swollen clit relentlessly and she orgasms again. He feels an immense satisfaction as she ruts against his face, babbling about how she can’t stop cumming. After three consecutive orgasms, she feels that familiar pressure building and she knows she’s about to soak him down.

“G-gonna squirt,” she manages to warn him. She lifts off his face in enough time to not completely waterboard him with the spray coming out of her. She shouts profanities, her thighs trembling, and she hears the telltale signs of him jacking off furiously.

“God damn princess, you are so fuckin’ sexy,” he compliments through gritted teeth. She collapses onto her back with her legs squeezed together, trying to catch her breath and recover from the intensity of the last several orgasms.

“Are you good?” he asks, panting a bit himself.

“Yeah, I just need a few seconds,” she replies breathlessly. He sits up and rubs her leg soothingly as she recovers. When she’s ready, she relaxes her legs and lets them fall open. He settles between them on his knees and rubs her pussy with the tip of his cock. Her hips jolt upward, clit still sensitive. He does this a few times until she’s rubbing herself on him in desperation.

“Please put it in daddy, I need to feel you inside me,” she whines. He’s as desperate as she is and he fulfills her request without hesitation.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re soakin’ wet. My cock went in so easy. S-so good, so tight, fuck,” he babbles. She loves how vocal he is and it gives her a confidence boost to hear him whimpering because of her pussy.

“You feel how fuckin’ hard I am inside this little cunt baby doll?”

“God yes, you’re stretching me out so good.”

“That’s what you do to me - make me so hard it hurts. Why do you think I’m always pawin’ at ya, huh?”

The way he’s snapping his hips into her renders her unable to answer. All she can provide are pathetic moans, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. She registers a smack across one of her breasts; the sting is delicious but the smack is still enough to get her attention.

“Answer,” he growls.

“Be-because…I - oh fuck - cause I’m a pretty girl,” she manages to answer.

“Atta girl. My beautiful…sexy…fuckin’…bombshell.”

He punctuates each word with a snap of his hips and she cries out each time. He fucks her harder and harder and she knows he’s determined to make her squirt again. She holds her legs back so he can go deeper and he leans in for a sloppy kiss.

“C’mon sugar, squirt all over me. Gimme that fuckin’ cum,” he says into her ear, his voice low and gravelly.

“Now, gonna cum now,” she pants in warning. He pulls out and she explodes, fluid coming out of her like a fountain and splashing against his chest. He rubs her clit with four fingers to prolong her orgasm while she writhes and shouts underneath him.

“Oh yeeeahh” he grits out when a few more spurts of fluid come forth. “Gimme all you got baby girl. Such a pretty little mess for me.”

When her hips still, he spreads her legs open once more and stuffs his cock back inside, going at it full force. He holds her under the crooks of her legs and grunts wildly as he chases his orgasm.

“You ready for my load baby? Daddy’s gonna fill this sweet little pussy so full.”

“Oh god yes, please fill me up daddy! Wanna be so full of you.”

“Oh fuck, here it comes. You’re makin’ me cum so hard,” he moans. He stills and shoots his load inside of her, groaning and rubbing her swollen clit with his thumb. She feels his cock pumping ropes of cum into her and his orgasm lasts for what seems like thirty seconds. When he pulls out, she doesn’t fail to notice he’s still hard. He flips her over on her stomach and pulls her hips back toward him.

“You see baby?” he says as he slides his cock back into her. “I’m still so fuckin’ hard. You make me crazy.”

He gathers her wrists behind her back in one hand and smacks her ass repeatedly with the other. All she can do is whine and whimper while he pounds into her relentlessly.

“Fuck yeah, take this cock. Daddy’s pretty slut,” he mumbles. He reaches forward and grabs a fistful of her hair, pulling slightly as he fucks into her forcefully.

“Who’s it for baby, huh? Who does this little pussy belong to?”

“Y-you daddy, belongs to you.”

“Damn right darlin’.”

Her hands grip the sheets beneath her hard enough to pull them off the corner of the mattress as he brings her to yet another orgasm. She’s lost count of the orgasms at this point.

“Look at how fuckin’ good we look baby,” he grunts, directing her attention to the mirror once more. She looks at their reflection and the sight is erotic. Joel’s body is flush, sweat droplets forming at his hairline. One hand is in her hair, the other gripping her hip. Her breasts bounce with each of his thrusts forward and both of their eyes are wild with lust.

“Oh fuck…so hot,” she moans.

“Yeah? Does my pretty wife like watching herself take daddy’s cock?”

“Yes sir!”

“And you take it so well, too. God, you’re so pretty with me inside.”

“D-daddy,” she whimpers. “I’m gonna cum again.”

“Nu-uh baby, wait for me this time.”

“Daddyyyy,” she whines.

“Don’t you cum until I say so,” he growls. As he chases his orgasm, his thrusts speed up and make it almost impossible for her to obey him.

“Look at me,” he commands. She lifts her eyes and meets his in the mirror and it’s all she can do not to cum right then.

“Please daddy, please! I need to cum, fuck, please!” she begs.

“I know baby, I know. Doin’ so good for me. Just a little longer, you can do it.”

He lets go of her hair and grips both hips so that he can pull her back to meet his thrusts. He can’t stop watching his gorgeous fucking wife take his cock in the mirror. She’s biting her bottom lip, her expression a mixture of pleasure and concentration as she attempts to stave off the orgasm she so desperately wants to have. His cock twitches inside her and she knows that he’s close.

“Cum for daddy now baby. Oh god, let me see you cum.”

She relaxes and lets the coil snap. Her vision goes white as her eyes roll back. She cries out and she hears Joel saying filthy things while he pumps her full of cum again.

“Yeah, that’s right, take this cum. My little cum slut. Fuck, I’m cumming so much.”

When both their orgasms subsided, he pulls out gingerly, his cock sensitive and spent. Her pussy is the same, red and puffy and still throbbing. They both fall onto the mattress, breathing heavily. She flips so that she’s facing him and gives him a soft smile.

“Thank you,” she says. He returns her smile and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“For the confidence boost or the dick?” he jokes. She giggles.

“Both.”

“You always have been, always will be, the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he tells her sincerely. He places his hand on her cheek and kisses her sweetly. “The only thing I can think of that would make you even more beautiful is if you’d let me put a baby in here.”

He pats her stomach and looks at her hopefully. Her face breaks out into a grin.

“You wanna have a baby with me, huh?”

“Yeah, I really do.”

“It’s settled then,” she says, snuggling into him. “We’ll try for a baby.”

[yermes]

Slipping back into the corpse of my 13 y/o self 🗑️🔥

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Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. But I am working on sharing my notes soon so that will be exciting! Liking and sharing does a lot 🥰

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Feel free to stick around for a while **⋆**

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The cards 🃏 

Dr. Falke 🦇

Its like, you know when adults say “you will understand when you are older” about the most random mundane shit. But then you actually grow up and theres much more you realize as a child? Your prefrontal is your eye to god, when you get older, the more your brain develops the more you understand. As well as your lived experience. Have you ever looked back on something you wondered 20 (more or less) years ago as a young kid and you finally found your answer? Lost secrets have been unveiled to you will the passage of time and all the adventures and brain growth along the way. Actively seek ways to grow in your life. Actively look for answers bc that is all you wanted in your younger years. Be diligent and be aware.

The Moon 🌙 

There is an odd feeling to being young again and a feeling that finds you in the middle of the day, when the sunlight hits you at just the right time, when you lay in grass and you play with dandelions and you can pretend like none of this ever fucking existed, like you don’t have to live through this historical nightmare. I think when shit gets so bad we get delusional, we start projecting backwards in time to a simpler era. The biggest scam was growing up and its shitty for people to set up adulthood like its an elite end game placing people to race through childhood. Childhood is not a race, it is not a destination it is just several small aspects of yourself that are all still there and present in your person. Let yourself get taken back to better times, let your younger self come in and give perspective, live in a way that you will be comforted in shit times.

The inferno (rev) 🤺

God your emotional breakdown takes victims that toll in the millions, its the next global epidemic. I know once you get going its hard to let up, but you gotta let it go, you had your teeth wrapped around your point, that your points neck is broken and bleeding out everywhere. Do not get too worked up in your sense of justice which is pouring out of every pore. You are a mess, and you know that is okay. We are all messes in our own right. But tbh I think you let other peoples shit dictate how you are going to feel to often. I know people are fucking annoying it will always be that way and you need to let them and their shit go bc right now its just a massive source of oxygen fueling the fire. Do not let them stroke the flames bc you are already on the edge of combustion. Have that temper tantrum do not invalidate yourself but hold your own hand as you work through feelings

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Extras: 🌾

Personal/ updates:

I just bought the godiest Norwegian sweater will send pics when I have it

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