#it still hurts to see so often and it does frustrate me but i can usually cool down pretty quickly

[lelianaslefthand]

im so so grateful ive never seen any original "astarion/karlach/shadowheart/etc is just gay" discourse posts with my own 2 eyes bc i'd turn into the joker BUT i will be postblocking every post i see about those posts bc i cant look at them anymore there's just so many and they ruin my mood every single time i see one

[r3ynah]

I just like the idea of Red hood having a medic, that always finds him whenever and wherever.

Like my boy danny, can and will go to different measures, so he can just find the boss of the crime alley alive and well.

Getting hurt? No you aren't, patched him up and forcefully tucked him into bed with a kiss, Getting depressed? No you aren't, Wrapped him in a blanket and just let him read his novels all day and feeding him, Getting kidnap? No you aren't, Cue the corrupted video of Danny breaking in the kidnapper's lair and just freeing Red hood, No blood was shed that night, well not from Red hood that is.

Danny was something else Red hood will tell you if you ever bring up his Medic into a conversation, he would stare at the man with heart eyes as he accompanied him to do random check ups on people under Red hood's care in his civilian persona. Danny may seem weak and brittle but he can give a punch if he really wanted to, He was mysterious but at the same time so open.

Danny was prideful as he wore the medal of being the only one that knows Red hood's real apartment, and the only one that could break in and enter without getting his presence known, just to make sure the crime lord was sleeping and eating properly.

Red hood practically made a joke out of this and would always tell everyone that his medic will be mad, if he isn't in bed by curfew, and he needed to be back at his house by 10:00 sharp or he'll get dragged and thrown, who knew the all so scary crime lord had a bedtime, criminals and civilians often leave him be when the clock strikes 9:50 pm afraid of enraging the meta medic.

__

"I am telling you B, I can't do that right now, its almost my curfew." Red hood sighed in frustration, he was currently standing in the middle of the bat cave, ready to run if batman tried to talk again.

"This is an important, case Hood, and it requires your participation" Batman stood still, face devoid of any emotions " Afterall it has something to do, with crime alley, there has been a meta spotted, and its creating havoc all around the place."

Jason, blinked, blinked twice, then thrice

"Is that it?"

"Jason, can't you see that this person's dangerous, they had already committed several crimes of arson, assault, and destruction of property, this person is abusing it's powers."

"No im not." An offended voice, called out from the side. all head turned towards the source of the voice, only to be greeted by 6'1 tall boy, who had black hair and blue eyes, and looked just round in his younger adult years. "In my defense they deserved it, won't give me a discount when i literally had a coupon." he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Who are you?" Batman asked, his guard up "And how did you get in here?"

"Red hood's medic and the meta you've labeling as dangerous, nice to meet you, and it wasn't that hard to spot this lair if you have x-ray vision" Danny greeted happily offering a handshake, which the dark knight didn't take, Danny retreated his hand in awkward silence.

"That was so sad" Jason cackled, as he pointed at Danny who gave him the middle finger.

"Shut, Its 10:30 pm, your bedtime was like 15 minutes ago, you don't get to talk until you're taller than me." Danny pointed at him.

"Fucking funny, im laughing" Sarcasm was laced in Jason's tone as he glared at Danny, before giving a sigh. "10:30 already shit, time does fly fast, when you're fighting a man in a furry costume" Red hood stated, as he walked towards Danny who only rolled his eyes.

"Bye B, i hope to not see you anytime this week or the next week." He nonchalantly waved bye to the older male, while walking towards his medic.

he turned his head to meet Danny's gaze, then smacked his arm making the man stumble. "Come on, now boss man do your thing"

Danny gave him, a glare before shoving him playfully, he then turned to look at empty air and practically ripped out a dimensional portal out of it, and pushed Jason in it who tripped.

"Bye Mr.Batman, it was nice meeting you" Danny bid farewell as he closed the portal on the Man who looked like he can use a break.

[sluttywonwoo]

as someone who lives with chronic back pain, this audio i stumbled across reminded me of this fantasy i have and i think san fits the script (a little too) perfectly

(heed the tags on the audio— it includes some kinks i stray away from in my writing that might be a turn off for some)

nsfw 18+ // mdni

“hi, baby.”

you dog-ear the page you’re on and set your book on the bedside table to give your boyfriend your full attention. “hi. good shower?”

“mhm,” san answers cheerfully. “i’m sorry i didn’t greet you properly when i first got home. i just needed to wash the day off of me first.”

“it’s okay, i know the feeling,” you assure him, stretching your arm out across the sheets for his hand.

he approaches the bed and takes your hand, squeezing comfortingly. “speaking of feelings, how are you feeling, my love? any better?”

you nod. “a little. still sore.”

san pouts. “i figured. i’m sorry, baby. is there anything i can do? do you want some tea? want me to get your other heating pad?”

“well….”

san perks up as you trail off. you almost never ask him for anything, even when you have these longer bouts of consistent pain, even though he’s always so eager to help.

“what is it? whatever it is, i’ll do it.”

you doubt he’ll feel that way when you tell him but-

“fuck me?”

your boyfriend’s smile falters but you swear you see his cock twitch traitorously beneath his towel. “except for that.”

“but you said-”

“you know we can’t,” san chides. “not when you’re hurting.”

“it’s not even that bad,” you insist.

“you’re lying.”

“but i want you.”

“so let me get you off like we’ve been doing,” he says, settling on the bed next to you.

he reaches between your knees to part them but you hold them together so that he can’t, even though it puts a strain on your back. san could easily overpower you if he wanted to, he often does when you’re feeling more like yourself, but when you’re like this… he’s overly gentle. it’s sweet, the way he treats you so delicately, but it gets frustrating when all you want him to do is the exact opposite.

san frowns. “baby…” you don’t budge. “you’re not going to let me?”

“i want your dick.”

“i know but it isn’t a good idea.”

“you don’t even have to go hard, you could just stick it in-”

“you’re unbelievable,” san mumbles, leaning forward to kiss your knee.

“is that a yes?”

he sighs, “we really shouldn’t…”

“you don’t want to?”

“it’s not about wanting to, baby. of course i want to. i always want to.”

“it doesn’t seem like it,” you mutter.

san pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “that’s because i’m trying to think about what’s best for you. i… i know myself and i know that if i’m not careful i could make your pain worse.”

your expression softens and you release the tension from your legs, allowing san to spread them. he looks up at you in surprise.

“i don’t deserve you,” you say pitifully, then before san can deny it, "i just miss you. it's been so long."

he rubs your thigh soothingly. "i know, baby. i miss you too. do you know how hard it is to sit here and not give you what you want? especially when what you want is..." he gulps, "me... inside of you. god, even just saying it is making me hard."

"you were already hard," you point out.

"it's making me harder," he clarifies.

"you know what would help with that?"

san glares at you. "a cold shower?"

"no-"

"yeah, i know," he sighs, defeated.

"can we try?" you ask, bringing his hand further up your thigh.

his fingers flex against the plush of your inner thigh in restraint, lips pursed in thought.

"you just want me to put it in?"

"well, i want you to fuck me but i'll settle for that."

san scoffs. "promise you'll tell me if it hurts?"

"promise."

"want me to grab a condom?"

"no, just take the towel off."

"such a romantic," he teases as he slips it from his waist.

he helps you get your panties off, making you sit all the way up instead of simply arching your back so he can pull the fabric from underneath you.

"you're sure you don't want me to just eat you out?" he asks, swallowing thickly, gaze fixed between your legs.

"you can eat your cum out of me if you really want to."

"don't threaten me with a good time," san murmurs as he positions himself on top of you, pressing a kiss to your cheek as thanks. he takes your hand in one of his and lines himself up with the other. "remember, you promised to tell me if it hurts."

"i know, i promise."

"like, if it hurts at all. even just a little bit."

"i will!"

"and i mean it-"

"babe! don't you trust me?"

san sighs, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "i do, of course i do. but i also know you, and i know you won't say anything if it means i get to feel good." you make a face. he had you there. "see? i know you, baby."

"ok, but i promise i'll tell you. pinky promise." you even offer him your pinky, which he loops around his own and kisses to seal. "so can you please put your cock inside of me?"

"so impatient," san mutters to himself. he pushes in the tiniest bit, though, just the head to shut you up. "shit, you're so wet- jesus fucking christ."

"keep going," you beg, "please, more."

"yeah baby, i will, i will... but we're not fucking, alright? just putting it in. f-fuck, i don't think i could last if we did fuck. i don't know if i can last just doing this, it's been so long since i felt you..."

it's also been so long that he feels bigger than you remember and you start to tear up as soon as he's more than an inch inside. you can tell it's taking all of his self control to go this slow. his hips stutter when you clench around him for the first time and he has to squeeze his eyes shut and then stare at the ceiling for a few seconds to gather himself.

but then he looks back down at you and sees you crying and immediately panics.

"oh my god, it hurts, doesn't it? i knew this was a bad idea. i'm so sorry, baby-"

"no! no, it feels good, sannie. i promise. it feels good."

he looks like he doesn't fully believe you but then you tighten around him again and he gives in, cursing as bottoms out.

you lay like that together for a few moments before you start to get impatient again. you really thought you could handle just cockwarming him but being full of him only made you needier. shocking.

"how is it, baby?" san whispers, likely to try and hide the shakiness in his voice. "this what you needed?"

you sniffle and nod. "but i want more," you admit.

san mumbles your name in warning but you're already too far gone.

"please? please fuck me, please fuck me," you're begging and it's a little pathetic but you can't bring yourself to care. "please just a little bit, just a tiny bit."

"we agreed," he reminds you.

"i know but i need more," you whine, "i know you need more too, i can feel you pulsing inside of me... please, baby, i want to cum on your cock so bad."

your boyfriend hangs his head. "i don't know if i can," he confesses.

"you won't hurt me."

"no, i mean, i'm already so close that i don't know if i'll be able to make you cum first if i start moving- fuck, why did me admitting that make you wetter?"

"because i love you?" you try.

"you love that i'm weak for you," he amends.

"two things can be true."

san tightens his jaw and shakes his head down at you as he draws his hips back a fraction of what he normally would and pushes them forward again, building an agonizingly slow but steady pace. "you're lucky i love you too."

[ohtobeleah]

If Logan is one thing, it's protective. and not in a "You're mine and can't do anything for yourself" Toxic way. He's protective in an "I'll literally do anything and everything for you, come hell or high water, I'd throw my over-extended life on the line to keep you safe."

I could see the two of you getting in some sort of car accident. He was the one driving. Something he always insists on doing. You don't often fight him on matters like who does what and when. You enjoy the journey just as much as getting to the destination with Logan in all aspects of life. Just being in each other's presence is enough for you most of the time.

"Y/n?" Logan growls as he comes to. Hell if the impact was enough to rattle him, it had to be enough to be a cause for concern for you. "Honey?" He looks over to where you're slumped in the passenger seat. Not only had you been wearing your seatbelt, but with an instinct to keep you safe, keep you protected from harm's way, Logan had flung his arm across your chest to keep you back against the seat.

"Fuck, Honey, hey--?" Logans reaches over, groaning as he moves. there's shattered glass fragments and twisted aluminium all around you. "I've got you," He taps your cheek softly, trying his best to coax you out of your unconscious state. "I'm here, wake up for me?" Logan seems to be asking questions when in reality it's more of a statement. he needs you to wake up, he needs you to be alright. without you? Logan isn't sure if he could keep living.

"Don't do this to me, please?" He nearly cries as your head lulls to the side, blood dripping from your nose, and your mouth. "I love you," He admits softly while trying to assess the damage done from the impact. You're his girl, why would someone try and take you away from him like this? Had he not been through enough loss? enough hurt?

"Did you just say you love me, Lo?" You mumble as your eyelids flicker. Logan lets out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. "That's kinda sweet, I'm telling your boyfriend." Logan knew you were referring to Wade, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that you were still here with him.

"You're hearing things," Logan replied as a smile crept across his aging face. The salt and pepper beard prevalent on his cheeks is speckled blood. "Don't scare me like that ever again, you hear me?"

"You're the one who's driving," You look across to where Logan is sitting, the pair of you still trapped in a twisted mess. "And I think it's time for you to wake up now." You stare at him a little more seriously than what you'd just been. Logan feels himself slipping back to reality...only to wake up on your lounge, alone.

"Ahhh!" Logan wakes with an audible gasp as his claws eject from between his knuckles. It's something he's become accustomed to. Waking in the middle of the night from nightmares that haunt him from his past. But these ones were new to him. The fear of losing you had begun to creep into his subconscious.

He's sweating, shaking from a heightened level of adrenaline and fear. But your voice cuts through it all.

"You were dreaming again," You speak up from where you're perched on the kitchen bench. Just sitting, drinking a cup of tea. Watching the man who'd stayed the night sleep on your couch because he refused to stay in your bed. "Kept calling my name out, I saw your uh--claws and thought perhaps keeping a safe distance would be practical."

"Come here," Logan sighs in frustration on two fronts. One, from his utterly confronting nightmare. Two, you somehow manage to sneak up on him like no one else can. "Please?" So that's what you do. You pad over in your underwear and perch yourself on Logan's lap. "What happened Lo?" You coo as your fingers card through his locks.

"I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you, Honey." He replies sincerely, softly. It's a nice juxtaposition to his normal brooding self.

"Good thing I don't have any plans on going anywhere anytime soon, huh?" You whisper through a smile as you gently press your lips against Logans. He accepts the gesture and goes with the flow. Leaning back against the couch as you deepen the kiss. "Come to bed with me?"

"You know I can't--" Logan whispers into your mouth. "But can you stay here for a few minutes?" He counters your offer with his own. "Please?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Lo." You remind him, kissing him gently and ever so slow as Logan melts against you. And for as protective as Logan is, for the first time, someone was just as willing to be his safeguard in return. "You're safe with me."

You keep him safe from himself.

Ilya

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni.

– how would they react if you ask them to be rough on you as much as they possibly can during sex? with jing yuan, gepard, argenti. + aftercare. cw: rough fucking, overstim, fingering. a bit of fluff on the aftercare. not proofread.

notes: thanks to my friend for terrorising me into doing this /j ^___^ jokes aside, i had fun writing this!! i didn't want to make this too long so i tried my best.. also my rules, tags everything about my blog is up on my pinned. make sure to read them byf please!! if this one actually gets attention more than i intended it to be, i'll make a part two and a genshin one ;___; 

jing yuan — 

i think jing yuan wouldn’t react any differently when you ask him to be rough on you. jing yuan has always been gentle with you ever since you two started dating—jing yuan can be either a gentleman in bed or.. just fuck your brains out? he’s actually anything you can ask for. he prioritises your pleasure and your comfort more than anything else. you want him to fuck you senseless? sure, you want some intense fucking? go for it, you want some gentle fucking as he whispers some sweet praises right next to your ear? or maybe both—he’s just the perfect man for anything. if you want him to bury your head on the pillows as he pulls on your hair and pounds you from behind, he’ll do it, only if you want him to. although he can’t deny the fact that he likes to see you fall apart on his cock, fucking you rough as possible while his fingers are buried deep inside you. as long as he can make you cum before he does, he’s happy. 

after care with jing yuan is one of the things that you two can always look forward to after having your brains fucked out—and trust me, that isn’t the only thing he’s good at. if he’s that good in bed, he’s definitely more than that when it’s after care. first thing he would ask you if there’s anything that hurts or did he go too far on you, he would even prepare a bath for the both of you (no fucking again, he says) and prepare some sweets or your comfort food after your intimate moment with him. ask him to give you a massage or tell you a random story about his childhood then he shall deliver! or if you just want to lay down on bed, he’ll make sure to clean you up if you fall asleep. he just wants the best for you, and he would be willing to give you more. make sure to thank him, the only thing he’ll ask for you is your love and embrace that he can always come home to.

gepard —

i think he would be a bit taken aback by your request, not that he doesn’t want to do it but he’s got some hesitation in him if he can go that far for you. he would be the type to ask you to show him how you want this to happen or set any boundaries, he thinks you’re someone who should be deeply taken care of in bed and he didn’t even think of this doing this with you at all, he does not want to hurt you. but he’s definitely willing to give it to you if you explain to him that this is not going to hurt you in the least.. it is your request after all. rough sex with gepard would definitely start with lots of foreplay, he’ll hesitate but once he gets the hang of it soon enough you’ll also be fucked dumb on the sheets, and he thinks that awakened something in him.. he doesn’t know that you’re the type to like this nor himself. he would often ask you if you can still take more or if you want him to stop, all his pent up frustrations or stress as a captain of belobog guards will all be poured into you that’ll leave you like a panting mess under him. don’t get him wrong though, he prioritises your release more than his, but forgive him if he accidentally cums inside you again and again.. poor guy can’t help himself at all.

after care with gepard would be a 50/50 situation for the both of you, give him time to recollect himself after because he thinks he’s not able to recover after that.. because of how good it felt. he’ll shower you with kisses and praises immediately after and would ask you questions if he did good or if it’s what you asked for. if you assure him that he did not hurt you at all, that’s the only thing he needs to hear. stay for a little chat with him in bed as you both calm down from it, he would start preparing a bath for you two as he changes the bedsheets, a little subtle kisses before going to sleep is how you two would end the night. he would really do anything for you, if you wanted him to. totally thinks he would be up to doing it again some other time. don’t tease him about it though. he’ll blush a bit if you knew how much he liked it, just a bit, he says.

argenti — 

one of the best gentlemen out there, who just aims to make you feel good no matter what. just like jing yuan, i don’t think he’ll mind it. as for someone who just wants to worship your precious body. but of course he would ask you first if you’re sure about doing it, and if you give him a sign that it’s okay, he doesn’t even hesitate on doing so. he’ll be the type to go slow on you at first, tease you until you’re ready to take him inside your warm cunny. then, the next moment you knew, he’s fucking you in such vigorous pace, would make you suck on his fingers as his lips traces over your body, and if he takes you from behind–he would even wrap his hands around your neck just to take a good look at your pretty messy face, he’ll still kiss your tears away even though he’s ramming inside your sopping wet pussy, he’ll switch by using his fingers, cock or his mouth just to overstimulate you. degrading words would definitely come out of his mouth but he does it in his own unique way (if you know, you know). he will definitely tease you but worry not, you don’t even remember how many times he had made you cum already.

aftercare with argenti? my love, you’re in for a treat. i’m sure we all know this man praises everything he sees, but when it comes to you as if he doesn’t run out of words. your afterglow with him would be definitely something, immediately would cradle you in his arm after making your legs tremble from overstimulation, he would press kisses all over your body and not a single spot would be missed. he would even press a chaste kiss on your clit after he cleaned you up, telling you were such a good girl for taking him or any words of praise that he could think of. the bath was already set up even before the two of you started, some bath bombs, scented candles, and petals scattered all over the floor. he’ll bring you some water or any snacks you prefer as he helps you clean up and after the two of you settles in bed, it would always ends with giggles and topics that the both of you share.. and of course, he doesn’t forget to praise you all over again, may he forgive you for falling asleep as he talks about how your body makes him feel good and how ethereal you are. it’s his way of making you fall asleep after all. 

[oh-starstarstar]

Pretty When You Cry. | r.l. x reader

18+ post.

Angry, full-moon Remus. He's mean, beware. Like, really mean.

This always happened near the full moon.

You'd see him stressed out to no avail; cramming up all the books around him as if it was an exam, behaving like a gruff old man, and sometimes going without talking to you for an entire day.

Right now, you made a mistake. Doesn't happen usually. Even if it does, he's too sweet to say anything even if he is offended. But near the full moon?

Oh, no. Hell no. He's staring right at you, gritting his teeth so hard that the muscle in his head visibly contracts. You timidly close the door behind you, lip trapped between teeth, eyes not looking directly at his.

"Remus?" you say after waiting. He doesn't respond. You repeat yourself, lowering the volume this time, cornering yourself against the wall.

"What's next? What? You're gonna fuck someone right in front of me?"

You fidget with your fingers, ogling at the ground. You'd just kissed a guy. One he particularly loathed. It wasn't your fault―it was a game of truth or dare, and, well, you tried telling them to not force you, but they pressurized you anyways, particularly because they thought it would be fun to annoy Remus. So you leaned in, pecked his lips, and backed off immediately. You looked at Remus for assurance. You hoped he'd know that it was just a dare. Of course, he knew it, he even heard you refuse multiple times, but his anger was the more prominently functioning one here.

You walk up to him. "You know it was dare. I told them to fuck off so many times,"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well―" he turns around, almost as if he doesn't understand what to say or do anymore. He puts both his hands against the wall, leaning forward. Then he turns around again, face in his hands, clearly too frustrated to even get a word out. 

Maybe he'll spend hours in the library again.

Maybe he'll go smoke excessively again.

Maybe he'll start to become insecure about himself, again.

And you really don't want any of those things happening. You don't like seeing him like that. "You can take your anger out on me." You blurt before you even double-check your words.

"Hm?" He turns to you, confused, frowning, chest heaving.

"Take your anger out on me, Remus."

"What the fuck?" he's so confused. You never fuck whenever it's the full moon. He's said it multiple times, he loses control during that time of the month. He doesn't want to hurt you at all. "I'm not doing that,"

"It's fine if you don't want to, but just know, I'm okay with it. I can handle some hurt, Remus, promise. It's better than torturing yourself."

He considers your words in silence. He stands there, visibly conflicted, staring at you. "I'll hurt you." he turns away, hands running through his hair. 

"And I'd probably like that," you smirk lightly, hoping to lighten up the mood a little bit. You get no reaction from him except another huff, causing you to bite your lip in anticipation.

And then he turns back, hand grabbing your jaw harshly to push his lips against yours. It's harsh, it's mean, it's nothing like him, but you love it. Oh, you sure do. You whimper into the kiss, trying to move your head away to breathe. He doesn't let you go - his grip is harsh. He bites on your lip, pulling it with his teeth. You cry out in pain against his mouth.

He scoffs, pulling back. With your jaw still in his hands, he tilts your head up. "Look? You're crying at that. And this was, what, just a fucking kiss?"

"I wasn't crying," You pant. "Promise, I can take it," you assure him, both your hands cupping his on your jaw.

He stares at you. He's not one to be very, uhm, cooperative when it comes to his anger and the moon. His most preferred option is often caging himself away, mentally and physically. So you don't expect him to talk. There's two things that could happen; he either walks right out of that door, fuming, or―

"Safeword?"

"The usual. Red."

And then before you can comprehend, his hand rapidly moved down around your throat, his lips on yours.

His hand grabs your arms, 

"Shut up."

In a fit of anger, he doesn't bother slowing the both of you down by taking extra time to remove any clothes. Instead, he tears your shirt right down to the last button. 

"Why would you do that?!" You gasp, instinctively moving your hands to cover yourself. And though you don't realise it right away, but Remus pauses to look at you right then. You can't make out whether it's fury or admiration, but then he unloops his tie, roughly grabbing your jaw and shoving it into your mouth.

It's a mean gesture, especially for his standards, so it makes you look up at him with your doe-eyes in confusion.

"I told you to shut up. Already made it clear, and I'm not in the mood to listen to your shit at all today." He says, bending down to put his head in the crook of your neck, biting down on your collarbone as you whimper in pain. 

His nails roughly drag down your skin, making you squirm. This time, when you whimper, his head snaps up. His eyes stare dangerously at you. “One more time, and I’ll make you cry.”

So you shut up. It’s a little fucked up, but you are more turned on than you have ever been before. One thing’s obvious—he’s not usually rough. He’s gentle, calm, treating you like you’re made of glass. So this switch of his makes you throb. 

He lifts your one thigh up, putting it on his shoulder. As anger-driven as he is now, it takes him barely any time to enter you. Though your eyes roll to the back, farthest they can, you don’t make a single noise. You’ve never seen this side of his so… don’t wanna test it much, right?

As he begins thrusting in you, you don’t get time to adjust. His mouth is all over you, kissing, licking, biting; it’s wild—filthy, almost. Yet you can’t get yourself to hate it. Something about this sex-crazed version of his makes you so much wetter. Sure, his gentleness is lovely as lovely gets, but a girl needs her fair-share of fucked up stuff. 

“I swear I wanted to take you right there and show him. That smug bastard,” he groans. He roughly thrusts up, making you choke a moan. You look up at him innocently, just as you know it’s going to be hard to stay quiet. 

“What, something to say?” He pulls his tie out of your mouth, throwing it to the side.

You take the opportunity. “Sorry, I—” another thrust. “I’m sorry,”

His hand snakes up your throat. “Sorry’s gonna fix this?” he asks. 

You shake your head, feeling him fold you even more. “Can’t— can’t stay quiet for lo—” you let out a loud moan, hoping he’d at least casted muffliato on his way in. (...he hadn’t.)

“Simple fucking thing, and you can’t follow it? Can’t even shut up?”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” you whine, body jolting with his thrusts, your high chasing you. You clench around him, the action having a very clear effect on him. He furrows his brows, head bowing down. 

“Fuck.” he groans lowly. “You gonna cum?”

You nod. You close your eyes, bite your lips, waiting for the moment. He gets faster, thrusts harder, hand even moving down to rub at your clit. Then, he just… stops.

“Fuck!” you scream. Your leg trembles hard, tears at the corner of your eyes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, why’d you do that?” he had never done that. Ever. If anything, his main motive was to make you come every time you did it. 

He grabs your jaw roughly. “Gonna behave from now on?”

You nod. “Sorry, please, please, please,”

He snakes his hand down, rubbing at your clit. “Learnt your lesson?”

You nod. 

“Gonna shut up like I told you to?”

You nod. 

Finally, finally, your high chases you again. This time, you look at him with pleading eyes, as if apologising to him. You hip jerks up, legs shaking. 

“There you go,” he says, increasing the speed of his fingers. The knot in your stomach tightens, your whole body heating up. 

He stops. He fucking stops. 

This time, you try your best to cry quietly into the pillow beside you, body jolting.

“Stop it,” he says harshly.

You open your eyes to look at him. “Huh?”

“Stop that, the fucking sobbing.”

He manouvers you onto his lap, lifting you up and slamming you down on his dick. Instinctively, you head is buried in his neck, soft mewls muffled by his skin. 

When his hands tire, he simply lets you sit on his lap and instead lifts his own hips. Your nails dig into his hands which are still on your hip (to keep you from moving your hips away), soft moans turning into screams. 

You struggle in his grip. He grips your hair harshly, pulling you out of the crook of his neck.  "Yeah, yeah, darling. Push me once more, and I'll tie you up and keep going faster till you cry and beg me to stop. Then we'll see how much you can push, hm?" he seethes. 

Oh.

But fuck, the ecstacy you're feeling isn't going to let you stay still for long. You tremble at his touch, breathily moaning into his neck. At this point, you are overstimulated, too. 

This time, when his hand starts rubbing your clit, your head goes into the crook of his neck to bite onto his skin. 

“I swear, I wanna stop again. Wanna make you suffer.”

You shake your head vigorously, “No, no, no, please,” you begin to sob. Sob, really. 

In a fucked up way, it turns him on. During the full-moon, he’s not really… him. Some of his harsher sides come to play. So now, he wants to see you cry. 

So he stops. 

You sob lowly in his neck, body trembling. “Why,” you whimper. “please, Remus, please,”

“Sorry, darling. Just wanted to see those pretty little tears of yours.”

pussy down bad, huh?

[princessbrunette]

john b was big. you knew it, he definitely knew it.

that never stopped you from trying to please him though. you were an inexperienced thing when the two of you first met, john b still thinking back on the first time you’d asked to go down on him. it was an affair of shy licks, doe eyes, the constant question of “am i doing it right?” followed by the demure command of “please show me how.” the whole idea was ditched pretty quickly, the lover boy hating the idea of putting any kind of uncomfortable strain on you.

you knew your way around the sack a little better now, could take his dick inside you like a champ even though the stretch was still prevalent and it left you bulging each and every time. however, sucking him off still often proved more difficult — your throat apparently just not cut out for it. you were frustrated, because john b was so good at eating pussy, it didn’t seem fair to not return the treatment to the same level of ability.

he can sense this frustration as your brow creases into a frown, dribbling furiously down his aching red tip until your mouth was drawing blanks, trying to lubricate him enough to help the process. he’s smiling softly at you like you were picking flowers or something totally innocent, a distant loved up look in his eye as he cups your face, coarse thumb stroking repeatedly across your cheek and temple to soothe you.

you try him again, taking him into your mouth and beginning to jerk off what you couldn’t reach. you bob your head and he hums, low and raspy in his chest. “good job, pup.” he praises, and something about it makes you stir. your boyfriend genuinely meant it — you were doing a good job, seeing you work to please him made him feel amazing as did your slick mouth and skilled hands… but you wanted to do better than that.

taking a deep breath through your nostrils, you clench one wet fist in your lap as you force yourself down on his length as far as you can handle. “e—easy… baby.” his brows jump higher as he sits up just a little, hands hovering over your head as you hold yourself down. you gag, hard and come back up — sucking in a loud shaky breath. “hey, okay, just go easy sweetheart. remember?” he comforts and you push his hands away, going back down and forcing him into your throat before you’d even fully recovered.

he winces, because yeah — the way your throat tightens around him with each wet gag does feel good. although, he was far too focused on your wellbeing to fully immerse himself. he says your name once, almost in warning before you feel bile rising and you pull off him quickly, aggressively coughing and spluttering. your throat, nostrils and eyes burn and you burst into tears — mad at yourself. he drops everything to scoot forward quickly, going to comfort you. your instinct is to shove away his hands in a slight panic.

“—no—” you gag.

“heyheyheyhey — nonono, sweetheart. breathe with me, yeah? in… and out… just like that puppy c’mon, show me those breathing techniques. remember the ones we did when you got upset? in… good girl…” he finishes silently with an exhale for you to copy and you try, but you’re still sniffling and choking.

“i’m terrible. i’m terrible at this.” you mewl and he shakes his head, cradling you where you kneel.

“who told you that, hm? my sweet girl just pushed herself too hard. thaaaats okay. we live and we learn, don’t we?” he hums in that low timbre that comforts you and you feel yourself calm slightly, your boyfriend swiping away at your tears, snot and saliva. “you don’t need to do all that, pup. you make me feel plenty good. it’s not worth… hurting yourself.” his forehead creases as he stressed this information to you, cupping your cheeks to get you to look at him, ensuring you understood.

you swallow, and make a screwed up face of discomfort at the ache in your throat from practically lodging him down there, possibly bruising your inside. your hand reaches up to touch your neck and his eyes follow.

“is that hurting?” he mutters in questioning and you nod, feeling a little bad for making such a fuss.

“wow, i really should have stopped you sooner. poor girl, huh.” he sighs, gently moving your hand aside to softly massage your throat with his fingers before bringing his lips to your forehead. “yeah i’m sorry the size of me is so…unmanageable… it’s uh— definitely not ideal.” he awkwardly apologises.

“s’not your fault, john b.” you whisper, hating that he blames himself.

“yeah, i know but… yeah.” he dismisses, tucking himself away to pull you up onto his lap. he knows you’ll wanna continue on with having your fun together soon, but for now he needed you to be grounded and feel safe.

[jeonhwang]

11:31pm

To me, Wonwoo is very much a kisser. Cheeks, lips, shoulders and forehead.

Your lips, no doubt is his favourite to kiss. He can kiss your for hours if he is given the time. The first thing he does early in the morning, kissing your lips. A peck that turns to a few pecks, and then sealing it with a lingering kiss that eventually wakes you up from sleep. He loves it when he swallows the small noises you make, the grunts and soft moans.

His forehead kiss, is his signature "I love you" gesture. Sometimes he does it right before sleeping, once he has you in his arms. Not much of a cuddler, but Wonwoo still pulls you to his chest just to kiss your forehead. It often comes with back rubs, which you absolutely can't sleep without since Wonwoo does it every. single. time. It is also a "see you soon" kiss. When he leaves for tour, he can't stop kissing your forehead, and he keeps on it until the very last minute. Hoping that you know, just how much he loves you. It is also an "I'm sorry" kiss. Rarely happens, but when it does happen, be sure that Wonwoo will kiss away all the tears and frustration after every fight. "I'm sorry you feel this way, I should've voice it out. Forgive me, my love." That is just the man that he is.

Your shoulders, definitely one of his weaknesses, is the spot he kisses whenever they are exposed. He can't explain it, his lips are practically tingling to kiss the skin of your shoulders as soon as he sees them. And it will not be only a peck of two, he bites them too. Wonwoo has this itch in him, to absorb you into his body when he sees your shoulders, that is how much it affects him.

Your cheeks. Just. So. Kissable! Wonwoo sometimes dive in too hard, at those times when he is just full of affection, that his nose bridge hit your cheekbones. It hurts so bad, and has been happening so frequently you can almost see the bruise on yourself. He kisses your cheeks aggressive especially after touring for so long, he needs to recharge and smell your skin to calm himself down. He does it like a cat sometimes, purposely rubbing his cheek with yours, trying to "disturb you reading because you weren't paying attention to him."

You love his kisses. Each and every one of it. He makes kissing so fun and addictive, you can never have enough. You're not complaining of course! Wonwoo is the most considerate person in the entire universe, he will give you every type of kisses in the world and some more. That is just Wonwoo.

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it

pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.

bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.

t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day

nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.

wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.

and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.

but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something! 

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it! 

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red. 

Blood. 

There’s just so much of it. 

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help. 

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm. 

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. 

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut. 

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp. 

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be. 

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance. 

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter. 

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for. 

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you. 

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression. 

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“ 

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“ 

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“ 

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further. 

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth. 

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver. 

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips. 

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him. 

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ 

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark. 

And fuck. This - this is dangerous. 

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“ 

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs. 

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness. 

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location. 

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location. 

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy. 

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip. 

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing. 

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“ 

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression. 

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“ 

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody. 

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it. 

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest. 

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“ 

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation. 

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly. 

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“ 

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze. 

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“ 

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him. 

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes. 

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up. 

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches. 

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him. 

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“ 

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods. 

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“ 

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending. 

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head. 

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any. 

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“ 

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of. 

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“ 

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything. 

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain. 

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind. 

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“ 

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words. 

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe. 

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation. 

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck. 

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh. 

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good. 

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that. 

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours. 

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss. 

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“ 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly. 

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again. 

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“ 

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“ 

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again. 

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well. 

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy. 

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

[bloatedandalone04]

Dating Anakin Skywalker would include;

Warnings: jealousy, descriptions of smut, smut, fluff, angst, kinks, swearing, more badly written headcanons

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

➪First things first; this man is jealous 99% of the time, let’s be real here.

➪Your relationship is forbidden, so Anakin isn’t able to show you off in all the ways he wants to.

➪All he’s allowed to do is train with you and sometimes is able to get away with pulling your back against his chest as he guides your saber down in a quick slash, but that is really it.

➪It’s nowhere near enough for him, but he puts up with it since he still gets to end most of his days with you in your secret shared room.

➪With that being said, even though he is a very jealous person, he is also very sweet.

➪When he wants to be.

➪But only with you.

➪You are the only person who gets to see his soft side.

➪You train together often since it’s really the only time you get to interact outside of your room, and he shamelessly admitted once that seeing you like that turns him on a lot.

➪Since you are a Jedi yourself, you and Anakin get to go on missions together and protect one another since you don’t really trust anyone else to do it.

➪It also allows for you to be around each other 24/7 without any suspicion being drawn to you.

➪And it usually allows Anakin to be all over you in the privacy of his ship/and or a separate room from the one at the temple.

➪Now....everyone says that he is a massive sub..not me.

➪I don’t buy it.

➪While he’s not a full blown dom (at least not until he turns to the dark side and then later becomes Vader), he’s also not a whiney sub who is just there for you to use.

➪He, of course, cares more about your pleasure than his own, but he also doesn’t act like he’s only a fucktoy for you.

➪Let’s be real, he is a lover, and therefore makes love to you in all the ways that leave you flustered and red in the face.

➪Now, that’s not to say he doesn’t have his full on dom moments.

➪When he gets super jealous, he’ll take you by the hand - and usually doesn’t care who sees, which is something he has to spend time later explaining - and take you back to his room to have his way with you.

➪He’ll say things like, “What were you doing with him, baby? Hm?” or “You think he can make you feel as good as I can? Does he really think that you’d let him?” while he’s railing you into an early grave.

➪With one hand gripping the headboard and the other covering your mouth so you’re not overheard, he is just completely letting out his jealousy and frustration of not being able to show you off like he wants to.

➪That being said, he’s not very quiet himself.

➪He usually has a swollen bottom lip by the time you’re both spent since he had to bite down on it hard to keep himself at least somewhat quiet.

➪His kinks are simple; marking, hair pulling and, you guessed it, choking.

➪He’s very careful with the way marks you, scattering love bites along your shoulders that are always covered by your robes, or on your inner thighs.

➪You’ve been with him for a long time, and saw the departure of his beloved braid, and when he decided to grow out his hair...oh boy.

➪His head had never been more sore.

➪You pull on it every time he takes you to bed, tugging the curls between your fingers with each thrust of his hips.

➪The headache he’d have afterwards was so worth it since he had been a bit nervous that you’d hate the new way he had begun styling his hair, and he was happy he couldn’t have been more wrong.

➪Choking....that should explain itself.

➪But the man loves wrapping his metal fingers gently around your throat, not nearly with enough pressure to block your airways but enough for you to feel it.

➪When he began to turn to the dark side, he definitely applied a bit more pressure, but still not enough to hurt you.

➪After all, you are the reason he lives and breathes, and he would never dream of causing you any type of harm.

➪His names for you are; sweet girl, angel, star and the occasional baby - but he usually saves that one for the bedroom.

➪You two eventually get married in the most lowkey wedding in the history of lowkey weddings, and exchange lightsabers as a way of showing your love.

➪Afterwards he took you away from Coruscant on a special mission - which was really just a fancy name for your honeymoon.

➪While it didn’t last long, Anakin did manage to get you pregnant, and that came with many problems.

➪Hiding it was a challenge, and hiding your son after giving birth was even harder, but you managed to do it for a while until you were able to get your own place in the city, where you and Anakin were able to raise him in peace and privacy.

➪Pick an AU; Anakin never turns to the dark side and gets to experience what it’s like to be a dad, or he does and you give up your son in order to protect him (and to keep him safe from his Sith father).

➪Either way, his love for you never falters and lives on through the memories you share together, whether or not he remains the loyal Jedi he was always meant to be.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

May I ask for a request of tangerine x reader who works with Tan and Lemon. Idiots in love type. And on a mission one takes a bullet for the other or does something stupid during a mission to keep the other safe? and then when they are in the clear they get into a big argument about how stupid the other was and like all the yelling and arguing leads to slipping out a love confession. You can choose who gets injured tan or reader.

Also, I could totally see Lemon in the back just watching them argue sipping on some water that isn’t poisoned.

hii sunshine! love love love it! thanks for requesting, hope you like it 💌 @thewinterv I combined this with your request, hope you don’t mind 🤍

HONESTY HOUR.

tangerine x implied fem!reader

word count. 792

warnings. couple blood mentions

Missions were always complicated with Tangerine. Not because he’s difficult to work with or unskilled, but instead it was your feelings towards him that made working with him so tricky. Confusing feelings pertaining to the unspoken, unacknowledged connection between you.

And because of that, you never knew where you stood with each other. You each knew there was something there, a spark as such, but neither of you would dare speak on it. These repressed emotions have been marinating for far too long, the approaching expiry date much like that of a ticking time bomb. 

Today's mission was particularly challenging: you and Tangerine were tasked to retrieve something —you still were unsure of what exactly— while Lemon retrieved the other. You’d all often split on missions, though today two diversions were needed, and without a moment to think on it, you found yourself following after Tangerine. 

In hindsight, it may have been stupid – the current bullet wound in your lower arm acting as a giant looming ‘I told you so.’ As soon as you and Tan were rushed into a trap —a setup— it all kind of went blank, and you fought on autopilot without a single comprehensive thought. 

You were hardly aware that you were hit until Tangerine noticed it – the trail of blood leaking from your arm and on the floor in an inconsistent pattern. 

“What the fuck have you done?” Tan yells, eyes widening as he rushes over to you – jumping over the small pile of dead bodies.

“I don’t know,” you shout back, looking down at your arm in panic. “I don’t know.”

“Oh fuckin’ hell,” he continues his yelling for some apparent reasoning. “God, this is a fuckin’ disaster,” he says, moving a hand to cover the wound in your arm, his palm firm over the small hole – trying to apply pressure. 

“It’s starting to hurt,” you wince, tugging your arm away. The adrenaline beginning to wear off.

He holds onto your elbow with his other hand, keeping you still and stopping you from pulling from his attempt of help.

“Keep bloody still, man,” he furrows, eyes narrowing at you for a brief moment. “Knew you should’ve gone with Lemon.”

“Well if I did, you’d be dead. So you’re welcome,” you retort, eyes squinting at him in that same frustrated way.

“Yeah, well too late for that now, ain’t it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snark, snatching your arm away – holding over the wound in the same way he did. “Don’t have to be such a dick to me all the time, okay? I’m trying.”

“You never fuckin’ think. You always throw yourself in danger and I have to come and bail you out,” he scoffs, staring you down. 

“I never ask you to.”

He chuckles, the sound amused. “Oh, come off it.”

“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m a little princess,” you retort once more. “I don’t need your help, okay? I’m fine on my own.”

“Well maybe that’s our fuckin’ problem then,” he says, voice far calmer now. 

“What does that mean?” you ask, tone softening like his. “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, exhaling heavily. “Forget it. I don’t care anymore,” he scoffs. “We gotta get back to Lem and get you sorted.”

And as he goes to leave, walking past you, you grab a hold of his arm to halt him. “What do you mean by that?” you question, eyes darting over his face.

“Nevermind.”

“No,” you tug his arm, extending your neck to meet his eyeline. “Tell me.”

He sighs, purposely avoiding your eyes. “I care about you, alright?” he confesses, speaking almost reluctantly. 

You move to stand in front of him, making him face you – forcing him to look at you. You smile faintly at him, the softness in your eyes silently prompting him to say what else he was thinking.

“I like you, okay? I don’t wanna see you hurt,” he admits. “Happy now?”

You nod sincerely, smiling at him. “That’s why I always go with you… sounds stupid, but I want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Yeah?” he says softly, a faint grin lining his lips. “So what’re you saying?” he chuckles, pushing you into a confession like you did him.

“I’m saying,” you pause. “I’m saying I like you.”

“You do?” he takes a step closer.

And before you have a moment to reply, you hear footsteps approach, the presence snapping you from this little honesty round with Tangerine. “Oi, there you fuckers are,” Lemon shouts, spotting you both. “Got shit to do, now chop chop.” And when he sees each of your faces, he can’t help but laugh. Both of you looked so guilty. “About to finally do it, weren’t you?”

I fear this may be total ass

[tkaulitzlvr]

hii can u pls do c0ckwarming with tom omg

STAY STILL - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom can’t wait any longer, but knows that you are too tired to fix his problem the way he wants you to. but you can’t deny the need slowly becoming mutual so, you decide to meet him halfway, and he doesn’t complain.

content: smut (not full sex, just what the req says lol)

a/n: thanku for the req!! SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, hopefully this makes up for it! literally screaming and giggling whilst writing this (help), also the way he moves his tongue in this vid HELLO (need it inside me) ++there won’t be a part two (don’t hate me!) my upload schedule is just too irregular, i have a ton of requests and just don’t think i’d be able to write one, in the future if i’m less busy i may come back to this!!

“please baby, i’ll do all the work, i promise.” tom pleads for probably the tenth time, digging his head into the crook of my neck and placing open-mouthed kisses onto the skin, whining lowly against it. any other time, i would’ve given in the second his lips made contact with my neck, and he knows this, deciding to try his luck once again. however right now, the circumstances don’t work in tom’s favour, much to his annoyance. i am too tired to even properly decline his request, sighing loudly and shaking my head as my eyes flutter closed. this isn’t enough for tom, my lack of response not a concrete ‘no’, this all he needs to press himself against me once more, hoping that it would be just enough to push me toward that three letter word he has been longing for me to say. whilst our proximity doesn’t do that just yet, the frequent motion of tom’s hips rocking against my waist reminds me just how desperate he is, the hardness evident through his boxers - not that the cotton left much to be imagined anyway.

“baby i’m tired, tomorrow, okay?” i sigh out, half-heartedly pushing tom away as a frustrated groan leaves his lips. though he fails to see the mischievous grin that spreads across my face with the small push that i place to his chest when he flops beside me, clearly not understanding what i am doing. honestly, i wouldn’t have minded lazy sex - tom never complains when he does all the work and, if i give in, it will make him shut up, his whining already getting on my nerves, whether he is trying to irritate me or not. but, watching the way his face furrows in utter frustration, wincing every so often at the pain that begs for a release from underneath his boxers, gives me the motivation to tease him just a little more - but in the end, i am more than willing to give him what he wants, or at least, meet in the middle.

“fuck.” he mutters under his breath, wincing a little at my response, eyes squeezing shut as his chest heaves up and down, loud and shaky breaths escaping his lips, making it hard to close my eyes and finally fall asleep. i know that he won’t give up yet, so, i lay silently, wondering how long it will take for him to continue pleading me to let go and give him what he wants. and, as expected, not even two minutes pass before his hand snakes around my waist from behind? his body pressing itself firmly against my back.

“this isn’t gonna go away baby, shit- i’m sorry, just, please…let me do something.” he sighs out, a low whine following his plea, hand firmly squeezing my waist whilst his head buries itself into my neck, teeth digging into the skin softly. “fuck- need you so bad, please.”

a small laugh leaves my lips, stifled quickly once i purse them shut, thinking out loud as my amusement towards his desperation quickly becomes evident. tom stops his slow kisses against my neck, whipping his head upward in confusion, failing to see how i could possibly be laughing right now. “what’s so funny? seriously schatz, this fucking hurts. please, just let me take care of it. i won’t be long, just need to feel you.”

his voice reduces to a mumble, eyebrows knitting together once again, though a wave of relief visibly washes over his expression when i roll my eyes, sighing in -totally forged- annoyance, though he doesn’t recognise that. all he realises is that he is getting something, not even completely sure what, but in this moment, anything at all would be enough for him to release - he is far too desperate to be picky. soon enough, he hauls himself up, hurriedly undoing the button of his oversized jeans and tugging them from his frame, carelessly throwing them onto the floor. and god, if i had thought his problem looked bad through the denim, then i am quickly proven wrong, the firm print of his dick through his boxers almost painfully prominent. his hand brushes against it, the cotton of his underwear now creating more friction, his head falling backward as a low groan sounds from the back of his throat, showing just how sensitive he really is, and now i know that it won’t take a lot to give him what he craves.

he quickly moves to climb on top of me, not getting far as my hand rests flat against his bare chest, halting his movement. his eyebrows furrow in confusion, mouth opening to protest my resistance, though i interject, deciding that if he wants me that badly, then he shouldn’t complain about how he gets me.

“mmm, no. sit back baby, i want to try something.” i whisper, teeth grazing the skin just below his ear, tongue running over it afterward as his eyes flutter open and closed, mouth hanging open with a small smirk on his face. he nods his head quickly, sliding backward until his upper half rests against the headboard, head tilted upward and legs sprawled onto the bed. his hands however, fail to be so still, reaching outward hopelessly and grabbing me by my waist, fingers digging into the flesh as he pulls me on top of him.

he winces loudly once i sit directly on top of his chest, the sound soon turning into a low moan, mouth dropping downward into an ‘o’ shape at the dangerously addictive mix of pain and pleasure that i give him. i smirk in satisfaction at his desperation, finding it almost pitiful, watching intently at the way his eyes flutter, on the verge of closing, though they manage to stay half lidded, soon shooting open when my small fingers make contact with the waistband of his boxers. his breathing becomes more erratic, hands flying to my hips once more, chest rising up and down at an even faster pace. right now, wearing only a small pair of shorts and crop top appears to work perfectly in my favour, and tom’s, as his hands reach to pull the strap down, lips soon attaching themselves to my breast, whilst my own hands move my shorts down my body, tugging tom’s boxers down soon after.

his eyes are fixed on where our bodies connect once i line myself up, sliding down onto him at an agonisingly slow pace, wincing slightly at the feeling of being stretched out, going from being totally empty to so full within the space of a few seconds. tom is way out of it, and had been ever since i began to sink onto him, his mouth uttering low curses and grunts under his breath, nails digging into the flesh of my waist, teeth occasionally digging into his bottom lip.

“fuck schatz, yeah…you’re so tight, so good for me.” he utters when i bottom out, though his satisfaction doesn’t last long, eyes quickly opening once he realises that i am not moving, instead staying still with him still inside of me. he decides against questioning my behaviour, his hips beginning to thrust upwards as a slow pace, incoherent whines leaving his lips as he does so.

“ah ah ah…” i begin, lifting my hips upward and almost completely off of him, hand moving to rest firmly against his chest. he slows his movements, pushing my hips so that he is inside of me once again. “no moving baby, just let me sit. stay still, okay?”

i clench around him unconsciously, moaning quietly as he groans under his breath, clearly holding back from snapping his hips upward again. “fuck baby, you’re fucking killing me, you know that?” he confesses, shaking his head slowly, eyes lustful as they stare into my own, the pools of brown silently communicating exactly what he wants to do, the intent behind them nothing close to innocent. but, no matter how tempting it sounds to let him take control, to reverse the roles and have me pinned beneath him, thrusting in and out of me whilst muttering confirmations of how good i feel, how perfect i am, i enjoy seeing him like this, completely helpless underneath me, begging for something, anything, other than the teasing that i keep up, and i don’t intend on giving in.

“you wanted this, right?” i taunt, lips curving upward into an innocent smile, my thoughts anything but, aware of what i am doing, the frustration that takes over his expression proof of my success. “i thought you wanted me, like this…” my voice is low and suggestive, thick as honey, words as addictive as a drug, and he continues to take them all in. my lips make contact right next to his ear, slowly kissing just below it, digging my teeth in afterward, his hips jolting upward at the sensation. and if that wasn’t enough, when i adjust myself on top of him, moving my lips ever so slightly, that is when he loses it, head quickly rolling backward, mouth dropping open, a deep groan sounding from the back of his throat.

“oh my god, fuck- you’re driving me insane, please just- do something.” his voice is shaky, cut off by small groans, his tongue coming outward to play with his lip ring, flicking the silver metal in small circles, all whilst his eyes never leave my own, the desperation within them never diminishing.

“nope, you’ll live baby.” i state in response, leaning forward and resting my chest against his, wrapping my arm around his frame and sighing nonchalantly, closing my eyes. “i told you i was tired.” as i do so, he shifts his weight underneath me, slightly altering the angle that his dick rests inside of me, his eyes squeezing shut at the feeling. no matter how much he wants something more, he doesn’t refuse my embrace, wrapping his arms around my back, his hands tracing circles along the bare skin, lifting up my crop top and resting underneath it.

minutes pass like this, my walls clenching around him every so often, getting him just a little more riled up, enough to make him sigh out in pleasure and groan at the feeling of slight relief, though it is never enough to satisfy him, just enough to keep him on the verge of losing his mind, to keep him guessing, waiting for something more than just being inside of me. this feels like more of a punishment than a reward to him, the frustrated groans he lets out only seeming to get louder, though he doesn’t give in, knowing that he could thrust upwards into me - all it would take is a slight movement of his hips and he would have me, yet he holds back, almost testing his own willpower, even though we both know that it is non-existent, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise.

and it doesn’t take long for him to finally reach his breaking point, no longer able to handle just having me here, sitting beneath me helplessly, his mind encouraging him to move, whilst his body is too desperate, too completely needy, to even comply with his unholy thoughts. instead, he voices them as a request, trying once again to elicit something from my own still body.

“kiss me.” he mutters into the silence as my head remains rested in the crook of his neck, hearing slightly muffled. though the quiet doesn’t show it, he is becoming more restless, breathing getting louder and faster, his hold on me tighter, almost inaudible whines sounding from the back of his throat every so often.

“hm?” i mumble half-heartedly, lacking the energy to lift my head upward from where it had been resting, staying still within his embrace instead. my thumbs trace the firmness of his back, travelling over each bump, each muscle, all coated with a thin line of sweat, all of it evidence of just how needy he is for this.

“i said kiss me.” he repeats, somewhere on the verge of desperation and frustration, clearly not willing to let me take control of him anymore. as he speaks, his hand moves from my back, making contact with my chin, using it to lift my head upward so my eyes look straight into his own, faces inches apart. warm and heavy, his breath fans against my face when he speaks, the close proximity and admitted need for him creating a light shade of pink to etch upon my cheeks, though it is nothing compared to the helplessness that tom displays, his words proving it if that isn’t enough. “no more games. just fucking kiss me.”

something inside me snaps. whether it is the close proximity, his enticing gaze, or the time that i have spent on top of him, doing nothing to pleasure either of us, it doesn’t matter anymore. all that i am certain of is that i no longer want to tease him, placing my lips onto his quickly. the kiss is slow and gentle as i initiate it, tom reciprocating it, his shoulders quickly relaxing as he already receives some relief after waiting for so long. though it is too soft, too reluctant, too tender for him. he wants more, and he wastes no time in acting on his desire, pressing his lips more firmly against my own, deepening the kiss and biting down roughly onto my bottom lip as it parts in response, allowing him to slip his tongue inside.

and when my hips jolt upwards slightly at his sudden movement, he soon realises that he has me where he wants - still inside of him, and that realisation is all it takes for his hips to snap upwards, thrusting in and out of me at a fast pace. his hands find my lower back, trailing down to my ass and roughly cupping the flesh, using them to quicken his thrusts and allow my bounces to meet them, fingers leaving harsh red marks in place of the soft skin. the distance between our faces only increases beyond a few inches once i let out a loud moan, smiling in satisfaction.

he places one final kiss on my lips, flipping us over in one swift motion whilst staying inside of me. i cry out when his tip hits the sensitive spot inside of me, though i soon play it off, attempting to return my facial expression to something as close as neutral as i can get it - on the inside, i am screaming, silently begging for him to carry on. but he doesn’t. his eyes twinkle with satisfaction, enjoying the way i lay helplessly beneath him, even though moments ago, the roles were completely reversed. he picks up on my attempt to act casual, aware that i am just as desperate as he is, if not more, my entire being transparent, almost pathetically easy to decipher to him.

“this whole nonchalant act doesn’t suit you baby. you can stop acting like you don’t want it, we both know you’ll be screaming in a couple minutes, watch.”

those are the final words he says before reconnecting his lips to mine and speeding up his thrusts, soon proving his bold statement to be nothing short of the truth, making my temporary dominance seem a fragment of my imagination within seconds.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

Ok. I have a request took me a lot of courage to finally request and shat myself a couple times but anyway! A one shot where choso lives in y/ns dorm with them and he was like doing his hair and kept messing up and gave up and started crying (I FEEL LIKE THATS SOMETHING HED DO THE POOR BOY:() thennnn y/n walks in their dorm and sees him crying and then comforts him and does his hair for him!!

IF THAT AIN'T LOVE THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT LOVE IS!

synopsis// choso is having an off day.

➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 1.4k

contents// frustrated/sad choso? idk just some hurt/comfort in a way! fluff?? could be read as either platonic or romantic doesnt really matter i supposeeee? i think it kinda reads more romantic tho

notes// anon ur actual fucking MIND. i was moved. literally right after reading ur request i opened up my notes and went to fucking WORKKK!!!! anyway sorry its so kinda all over the place but i hope u like it and it lived up to ur expectations!! n also sorry to everyone else for posting a oneshot mid smau its short n cute okay (AND ITS FUCKING CHOSO SO LIKE CMON???) i couldnt help myself !! also the title is lyrics from cupid's chokehold by gym class heroes... okay bye!

Sharing a dorm with Choso was heavenly.

Because of your conflicting schedules, half the time, you rarely actually saw each other. But even when you did, he was the type of roommate to keep to himself; he has his side of the room, and you have yours. Of course, you two talked here and there; he was actually pretty nice company whenever you two were actually in the room at the same time. But more often than not, the only time you would see him was late at night when you were just getting in to go to sleep.

Either way, the point is, you never really saw him around much. Choso was always quick and effective, so by the time you would head back to your dorm after a few of your classes, he would just be heading out or have already left.

Usually, his alarm would go off an hour before his classes, which is ample time for him. He’s done his routine hundreds of times before—doing his hair and eyeliner is practically muscle memory, and at this point he's sure he could do it in his sleep. but not today, apparently. Today his alarm goes off late—half an hour late. Which Choso isn’t panicked by, only slightly frustrated, but it's fine. That still leaves him another half an hour to get ready, so there's still plenty of time given that it only takes him 10–15 minutes to get ready, so it's fine. Everything is fine; he repeats it in his head like a mantra, like if he thinks it and says it enough, he’ll actually believe it.

Choso quickly dresses, then sits at his desk, where a little mirror sits. He sighs as he flips on a lamp and grabs his eyeliner. He doesn’t even have to think about it, instinctively taking the cap off and bringing it to his eye, only for it to crumble as it meets his waterline. Choso cusses under his breath as he blinks, attempting to get whatever fell into his eye out. When that doesn't work, he rubs his eye, only for it to spread eyeliner all across his eye and cheek. He groans, grabbing a cloth to wipe it off with, and once his face is clean, he doesn't even bother trying with his eyeliner again—looking at the time, he’s already wasted more than he wanted doing that. He’ll just do his hair and leave, or else he’ll be late.

Choso stills for a moment, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try and calm the nerves and frustration simmering beneath his skin—it's fine. He nods. Now somewhat calmer, he grabs his hair ties and gets to work… only for one of them to break as he’s trying to put his hair through it. Choso stares at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed and swallowing harshly, as he desperately tries to ignore the rising heat going to his cheeks.

Whatever.

It's fine.

He’ll just do the other side of his hair...only for the same thing to happen. Choso can actively feel his heart racing—it's pounding against his chest and ringing in his ears—and he’s already too far gone to notice or even stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. He doesn’t really know why he’s actually crying, if he’s being honest. It’s not like this is the end of the world; he knows that, yet he can't stop himself. Too many things have gone wrong, and he’s barely woken up. First, his alarm goes off late, which isn't the most horrible thing within itself, but then his eyeliner crumbles and gets in his eye, and when he tries to wipe it away, it instead smears on his face. Then he rubs his face raw, trying to get it off, and now he can't do his fucking hair because his hair ties suddenly decided to disintegrate and snap in half.

He messily wipes at his tears and tries inhaling deeply for air in a feeble attempt to calm himself the tiniest bit down. It doesn't do anything. In fact, it makes things worse. His tears fall harder, and he’s choking in shallow breaths of air. If anyone walked in right this moment, they’d think something horrible happened, like one of his brothers died. and it's just his luck, or a very obvious lack thereof, when you walk in. Choso immediately starts scrambling to wipe his tears away and hide his face from you as you drop your things in shock—you hadn’t expected him to still be in the dorm, let alone be here crying.

“Holy shit, Choso, are you okay? What's wrong? Did something happen?” You panic, immediately running to his side.

He doesn’t say anything; he just takes in and lets out shaky breaths as he shakes his head, one arm outstretched to keep you at arm's length.

You frown and look around. For what? You’re not sure. Part of you thinks if you look hard enough, you'll find why he’s crying, but all you see are snapped hair ties, a crumbled, unsharpened eyeliner pencil, and a cloth full of eyeliner. That’s when it all starts to make sense. You smile softly at him, who's still hiding his red tear-stained face from you, before you grab his comb and a new pair of hair ties from his desk.

Choso doesn’t know what you're doing when he hears you shuffling around, and he refuses to meet your gaze, filled to the brim with embarrassment at having been caught crying, but his head involuntarily snaps up, looking at you through the mirror, when he feels you start to brush his hair. You're already staring back at him and flashing him a warm smile, not saying a word as you continue to detangle his hair.

“You don't have to do this,” he sniffles, finally calming down enough to say something.

"I know I don't," you shrug. "But I also know it sucks when it seems like nothing is working or going to plan, so..."

"I can do it myself-“

"Choso, just let me do this for you, please.”

He stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if trying to find something, and when he finds nothing but your soft eyes and willingness—your desire—to do this for him, he sighs and nods. You beam and gleefully get back to work on his hair, and Choso finds that he’s no longer embarrassed by being seen crying but rather by the fact he feels like a doll—but the worst part? It's kind of nice.

He likes having someone do this for him with no hesitation; he likes the way your fingers carefully rake through his hair to ensure there's no tangles even though you just combed it; he likes the way you don't tie the ponytails too tight like he usually does, which only results in a pounding headache he can't get rid of; he likes all of it.

He likes all of it so much so that he finds himself closing his eyes in complete bliss, drowning in your gentle touches. You poof up one of his ponytails a bit, ready to tell him you're done, when you look into the mirror and notice his eyes closed, looking like he’s in a whole other world. You can't fight your smile off as you play with his ponytail for a bit longer before slowly wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

“What do you think?” You whisper, your breath softly fanning against his ear.

Choso opens his eyes, surprised to see you pretty much hugging him from behind, yet he doesn't hate it, not one bit. Too caught up about how much he does not hate this; he doesn't respond, and it makes you nervous.

“Sorry… I know they don't look exactly like how you usually do them, but-“

"No, no,” he cuts you off quickly. “They look amazing... Thank you, y/n...”

You smile, happy with his answer, as you untangle yourself from him and stand up. “You should head out now, Choso; you're late.”

He blinks, totally forgetting about class, and hurriedly stands up. "Right, thank you again,” is all he’s saying before rushing out the door.

You giggle slightly before yawning and making your way to your bed, ready for your usual nap, when Choso comes rushing back into the dorm again. You stare at him wide-eyed, and he simply stares back.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused, and are about to ask if he's okay when suddenly he blurts out:

"I wouldn’t mind if you did my hair again.”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[lancermylove]

Kind MC (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Demon Brother x fem!Reader, platonic.

Warning: None

Requested by: @annih

Prompt: Hello! Can I request some HC for Obey Me? How would each of the demon brothers react to a Fem!MC who is...just THAT forgiving? Like, she's too kind, too patient and too forgiving. She even forgive Belphegor faster than anyone anticipated. Also, the thing is, this trait leads MC to be more naive and trusting as she think that everyone else share the same nature and good intentions as they does. But it didn't render MC TOO dumb. She would still listen if someone's danger. My kind mc obey me request can you make MC be in a plantonic relationship with everyone?

A/N: Angel MC. 🤭 Hope you like it!

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Lucifer

Initially, Lucifer is a bit irritated with your overly forgiving nature. He is worried that your kindness might make you an easy target in Devildom.

At times, he also gets frustrated by your naivety but is fascinated by your unwavering ability to see the good in everyone. This makes him become very protective of you.

Even though he knows you won't fully listen, Lucifer still advises caution and reminds you that not everyone has a pure heart or intentions.

Over time, he starts to admire your patience and kind-heartedness. It's not often that such angelic beings come to Devildom, so to have one in the House of Lamentation is a breath of fresh air.

He won't ever tell you, but Lucifer is worried that you might actually fall into the trap of a malicious demon someday. But he already has a plan prepared in case that happens.

Mammon

Mammon is amused and baffled by your overly forgiving nature. While he finds your kindness endearing, he worries that demons will try to take advantage of you. The second brother has done it, but nothing too extreme; he just took something from you without your permission and never returned it. But...if you find out, you will forgive him, so Mammon isn't too worried.

Yes, he realizes that he is taking advantage of your kindness, and this is why he is worried about strangers being around you.

Sometimes, Mammon teases you for being so trusting, but behind that teasing is his concern for your safety. Due to this, he gets fiercely protective of you and always keeps a close eye on you when you interact with others.

Out of everyone, Mammon understands your kind nature more than anyone. But that doesn't stop him from being cautious and stepping in when things are about to go downhill.

Levi

Levi is puzzled and somewhat skeptical of your overly forgiving nature. It isn't often that such kindness is visible in Devildom, so at times, he has to wonder if you are really like that or if there is a hidden face behind your angelic nature.

When he sees you trusting others easily, he becomes anxious. His own insecurities and distrust in others make it hard for him to even believe a word they say, so to see you trust strangers readily is nerve-wracking.

Like his brothers, Levi worries that your trusting and sweet nature will land you in deep waters. At times, he tries to tell you about the dangers of Devildom, but nothing seems to work, so he eventually gives up and lets you do what you want.

However, in secret, Levi admires your kindness. This sometimes leads to him wanting to trust others, but other times, he questions his own values and behavior.

Overall, the third brother is most concerned about not being able to protect you from harm if he ever needs to.

Satan

Satan doesn't know what to make of your nature in the beginning. He finds your angelic behavior bewildering; how exactly are you able to forgive someone who purposely tried to hurt you? The fourth brother can't understand your thought process.

At the same time, he finds your kindness refreshing. His brothers have seen genuine kindness in the Celestial Realm, but he never got to experience it. But after meeting you, Satan can truly say that he knows what pure angels are like. Sometimes, he wonders if the Celestial Realm sent an angel - you - disguised as a human to keep an eye on them.

There are times when he struggles to keep his calm when you forgive certain demons who have hurt you or don't deserve your forgiveness. Moreover, when he hears you say that kindness is contagious, he wants to shake you by your shoulders and yell at you that you live among demons, but Satan doesn't want to scare you, so he refrains from acting on his thoughts.

Satan knows for sure that you will get hurt and be manipulated by the demons in Devildom, and while he will do everything in his power to protect you, he thinks it's better if you learn certain lessons by yourself.

Asmo

The fifth brother is completely and utterly charmed by your overly forgiving nature. He can't get enough of your sweetness and kindness.

Unlike the others, he is not too concerned about your naivety and thinks your innocent charm and trusting nature are enough to melt even the cold hearts of demons. Well, for the most part.

Asmo is just as protective of you as his brothers. He knows that demons are capable of being evil to the core, and no amount of kindness will cut through their darkness.

Overall, he loves your sweet nature and showers you with endless compliments, but Asmo is deeply worried that you will someday experience something that will break your pure heart forever.

Beel

He is immediately drawn to your kind and forgiving nature and finds your warmth comforting. Beel truly admires your ability to see the good in others.

Unlike his brothers, he is not focused on your safety; rather, Beel views your personality as a refreshing change to the usual darkness of Devildom. Honestly, it reminds him of his time in the Celestial Realm. If Lilith had been still with them, he is sure that the two of you would have gotten along very well.

Saying that, if a demon tries to hurt you or take advantage of your kindness, the sixth brother will act as your shield. No one will harm you while he is around.

He is the only brother who doesn't stop you from being kind, not even to the demons who don't deserve your kindness.

Belphie

In the beginning, Belphie finds your overly kind nature annoying and bewildering. He still doesn't understand how you forgave a demon who purposely insulted you in the worst way possible. If you hadn't stopped him, Belphie would have torn the demon to shreds.

But when he sees how your kindness has positively influenced those around him, Belphie's cynical outlook begins to soften. He isn't as irritated and even tries to be nicer to others.

Despite this, the youngest brother can't forgive anyone who tries to hurt or manipulate you.

Belphie truly hopes that the darkness in Devildom will not affect your pureness in any way. He knows through firsthand experience that one little moment is enough to destroy everything and change people. And Belphie hopes you never have to go through that pain.

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