#it’s pretty unfair but i care that you can’t see past your hair

[stars-that-do-not-give-a-damn]

“you’re so lucky you’re gorgeous” is THE brucie wayne song

[dollfacefantasy]

Kiss It Better

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!bunny-hybrid!reader

summary: on a day planned to be just for just you and leon, he gets called into work. it dredges up some old memories, and upon returning home, he wants to make it better by taking extra care of his baby bunny.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, cockwarming, daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, hurt/comfort, reader copes with her past at the shelter

word count: 6.1k

a/n: yay leon and his baby bunny finally return. i hope this lives up to the first part lol which can be found here. i have another part planned as well if people are interested. as always reblogs and comments mean the world <3

“I could never say no to my sweet baby bunny.”

A statement Leon had said off-hand in the heat of the moment. Something he’d told you as a comfort, a way of warming you up for your first intimate moments together. He hadn’t put much thought into it before it rolled out of his mouth. 

But damn, if only he’d known how true it would prove to be.

The words were ringing through his head right now as you dragged him through the mall on another Saturday he dedicated entirely to spending time with you. He’d already bought you a fair amount of stuff from cute frilly socks to pretty pink panties to some tiny t-shirts he knew he’d regret as soon as you used one to get your way. And now you were heading towards a shop tucked away in the farthest corner of the shopping center. His only hope was that the location meant it was the end of the line, the last stop on your trip.

From what he could see, it sold stuffed animals amongst other items that could clutter up his house. Luckily, the small plush toys seemed to be the only things drawing your attention. Your eyes scanned the rows before fixating on a specific one that sat on the bottom shelf. You crouched down to get and pulled it to your chest, standing up again so Leon could see your selection. His eyes soften as he notices your little cottontail twitching with excitement.

He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face at the sight. His sweet girl standing there with a small plush cow in her arms. The tufts of black and white fur jutted out the top of its head near a set of foamy horns. You looked up at him with puppy eyes, which he’d come to view as unfair since he’d chosen a bunny for a reason. But they worked on him all the same.

“Baby-” he starts, but you interject, predicting his argument.

“I don’t have a cow yet,” you plead, “It’s just one more.”

“Yeah, this one is just one more. And so is the next one, and the one after that, and the one after fifty more of these things,” he teases.

“C’mon, please,” you beg, stepping close to him to lean against his chest.

“Is this your way of telling me you want your own bed again? You’re just gonna fill the one we share with more and more of these until there’s no room and I’m pushed to the floor,” he jokes.

“No,” you deny, “Plus I put them away at night anyways.”

“Most of them,” he corrects.

“Cause I need my bear to sleep,” you say with a little pout.

He swears he almost swoons. You’re too fucking cute. He knows he’s spoiled you rotten. You’re treated better than the average hybrid to put it lightly, but he was past the point of paying that any mind. That shelter he’d picked you up from never let you have stuff like this. In his mind, he was righting their wrongs, burying those sad memories with as much cute shit as he could afford. And if other people didn’t approve, if they thought he should keep you silent and on a leash, he couldn’t care less.

Looking down at you now, playfully pleading with him for that stuffed animal, he knew he could never treat you like that. He rolls his eyes and messes with your hair, gently scratching the base of your floppy ears.

“Fine,” he says, “One more.”

You all but cheer with your excitement, bouncing up to give him a fat kiss on the cheek. He takes the stuffie from you and walks to the register to pay for it. You walk, lacing your hand with his and swinging your arms back and forth.

He looks over at you and instantly remembers why he always ends up giving in. Why he can never say no. Now that you had opened up, he couldn’t get enough of you. He’d loved you before that day a few months ago, the day when he’d caught you during your attempt at self-soothing with his pillow between your legs. But since that day, a whole new layer of you had been revealed to him. The sweet and shy bunny he’d met at the shelter touched his heart first, but the affectionate and needy girl you’d allowed him to see owned it now.

He pays for your little cow, adding another bag to the collection hanging from his arm, and leads you out of the store. You tuck yourself under his arm, clinging to his abdomen.

“Thank you, daddy,” you say quietly and press a kiss to his chest.

His heart throbs at the sound of the sweet name you’d attributed to him months ago. He has to remind himself that you’re in public before any other part of his body reacts.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says and strokes one of your ears with his free hand.

Once the pair of you reach his car, he loads your stuff in before giving you a pat on the ass as you climb in the front seat. You’re all smiles, and he couldn’t feel better. He gets in the driver’s seat and switches the car on. Your hand goes for the controls to the music right away. He always let you pick when you were with him. Each song acted as a little glimpse into you and what you liked.

As you’re selecting one you like, he feels a buzz in his pocket. He fishes his phone out as you share some of the stuff you like about the song you put on. You then start asking him where you’re going next, but the plans slowly begin to unravel as he reads the message displayed over the picture of you he had as his screensaver.

“Shit…” he mutters to himself before looking back up at you. Your ears droop in tandem with his face dropping. “Baby, I gotta drop you back at the house. I gotta take care of some stuff at work for a bit.”

He sees the disappointment in your eyes, and it kills him.

“But… I thought you took the day off,” you say. Your mood rapidly depletes. It wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be a day where he was all yours. Twenty four hours where the D.S.O. laid no claim on him.

“I did, but I’ve told you how it is sometimes. I can’t get out of it some days,” he says.

“But you already stayed late all week. What else do they even need you for?” you ask. It may be irrational, but you can’t help how your mind floods with a sense of abandonment in the moment. You knew Leon would never do that, but the years you spent in that shelter had done a good job of convincing you otherwise.

“Just some formality stuff. I’ll be as quick as I can. You know I wouldn’t choose working over being with you,” he says.

Now he’s the one pleading. Your ears are flat on your head, and your eyes are fixed on your seat below you. He knows you feel wounded now even though you’re holding it in.

“If you’re mad it’s ok,” he whispers and reaches out to stroke your jawline, “You can be upset, honey. I won’t get mad at you. I know you were excited about today.”

As much as you had opened up, he could tell you still shied away from showing too much negative emotion. He knew you’d gone through some punishments at the shelter you were still too scared to talk about.

“It’s not your fault,” you say and shrug, dejection all over your features.

He sighs and starts the car, pulling out of the parking space, and heading towards the house. “I know it’s not, but you can still let out some frustration. I wouldn't think you’re ungrateful if that’s what you’re worried about. You wouldn’t get in trouble,” he says, keeping his tone gentle.

You bring your feet up onto the seat and retreat into yourself a bit. With a simple shake of your head, he knows the topic has closed.

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drives down the road.  It drips with the frustration that he’s letting you down. He can’t reach inside your head and pull out the negative effects of the shelter. He can’t tell the D.S.O. to fuck off and let him spend as many hours as he wants with his precious girl. All he can do is pull into the driveway and watch you get out of the car, your posture slightly slumped with the encroaching feelings of loneliness. You pull your shopping bags from the car. At least you give him a little parting kiss so he doesn’t feel completely emaciated.

He watches your sad trudge into the house before taking the car back out of the driveway and down the same road in the opposite direction.

Inside the house, the silence dominates you. You pad down the hallway to the bedroom that had once belonged solely to Leon. Dropping the bags of clothes near the door, you then hop on the bed and toss your new little cow up near your other pillows. Your eyes linger on the ceiling. You’d become familiar with the insignificant bumps and ridges above that provided a distraction on sleepless nights. Nights where you just needed to tune everything out and count them to avoid being haunted by the past.

Before Leon had taken you in, you always imagined you’d enjoy the quiet of a real home. The shelter always echoed with loud cries of sorrow, screams of anger, and whimpers of hopelessness. You’d lie on the thin mattress tucked in the corner of your area and try to dream of the days your bed would be lush with pillows and blankets, decorated how you liked and  surrounded by the peace of you and whoever had chosen to love you.

And now those days have come. They’re real. You didn’t have to deal with the constant atmosphere of despair or the looming threat of punishment for acting like a human being. So why was it so easy for you to tumble into sadness like this? Why did the quiet no longer mean sanctuary but rather the absence of the person you loved most in this world? You could never work it out. It was too hard. Any time you tried you ended up spiraling into even more self loathing. Because there’s nothing to be sad about anymore. There’s no reason to feel like this. That stuff shouldn’t bother you; it’s nothing more than a collection of ugly memories at this point. Why couldn’t you be grateful for the life Leon had given you? The man gave you just about anything under the sun you could want, so why did one minor inconvenience have to throw you off this badly?

The bags by the door didn’t make you smile anymore. They only brought guilt. You didn’t deserve them. All the gifts and love he lavished upon you would never make you into what you were supposed to be.

Your thoughts consume you for longer than you notice. The sky darkens outside, tinting the room with a violet haze. You lie on the bed under your self-made cloud of gloom for hours, not noticing how much time has passed until you hear the garage door closing and footsteps getting closer. You glance at the bedroom door as it opens silently.

Of course, it’s Leon. His eyes fill with concern at the sight of you. He’d seen you down before but never so deflated. His face now resembles how he looked when he caught you humping his pillow all those months ago, but it’s also distinctly different. He still has curiosity in his gaze, not able to pin down what exactly is the reason for the present circumstances. Though the reaction this time is more worried than surprised. Your present state doesn’t shock him; instead he feels a protective instinct flare within him.

He approaches the bed and sits next to your limp form. His palm rubs up and down your arm slowly. “Hey baby,” he says softly, “You doing ok?”

You look up at him and nod. Sitting up, you scoot to him and align your side with his. Your legs extend out in the opposite direction of him as your head rests on the curve of his shoulder. “I just missed you,” you say softly, your arms encircling the circumference of his bicep.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and starts rubbing your back. “You do anything fun while I was gone?” he asks.

“Nothing special,” you respond, “Think shopping made me sleepy.”

You speak with a soft tone of voice, attempting to further the idea that this was merely a bout of tiredness. His eyebrows rise with suspicion. As cute as you look with your cheek squished against his shoulder, he pulls your body around and seats you on his lap. His fingers sweep down your jaw and guide you to look up at him.

“You sure you’re just tired? Nothing else? We weren’t out for that long. I just wanna make sure you’re alright,” he says, trying to show you with how he speaks that it’s not an accusation.

But you remain firm in your convictions and nod. “Mhm, I’m already feeling better. I just needed a little rest,” you assure him and tuck your face against his neck.

It’s not a lie. You were feeling better now that he had returned, each passing moment had little improvement for your mood. But he knew something still wasn’t right. He strokes down the silky expanse of your ears while his other hand massages the base of your tail.

“Well, I missed you too, y’know? Couldn’t stop thinking about my sweet baby bunny the whole time I was at work,” he says.

You were already melting against his chest from the physical contact, but now a smile graces your features. “Really?” you ask, looking up at him again.

“Really,” he confirms, “I felt pretty bad leaving you all alone when it was supposed to be our day.”

“Oh, you don’t have to fe-” you start before he interrupts.

“No, I told you the day was gonna be for us. So how about this?” he asks, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your chin, “How about instead we make it a night for us? I’ll give you a nice bath, put you in some of the new stuff I got you.”

He kisses your head again, then your temple, then your cheek.

“Maybe daddy’ll even give you a special treat before you fall asleep,” he murmurs before kissing your lips.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod. You’re helpless when he treats you like this, disagreeing doesn’t even seem like an option.

“Will you get in the bath with me though?” you ask.

He grins and rises off the bed with you in his arms. “Of course. Anything for my baby bunny.”

The two of you head to the attached bathroom. He sits you on the counter while drawing the bath. Steam drifts up into the hair from the hot water pooling in the tub. He lights some candles, dims the lights, and lets you pick out the scent of bubbles you want.

You sit on the laminate countertop, lazily swinging your dangling legs as you watch him. He checks the temperature of the water multiple times and stares at the clear liquid coming from the bottle of bubble bath. Once that’s taken care of, it’s your turn. He slips your shirt over your head and your bottoms down your legs like you’re the most delicate thing on the face of the earth. Kisses land on your jaw as he pulls your panties off too and drops them in the hamper with the other articles of clothing. So meticulous about everything, at least when it came to you.

He scoops you up again and brings you to the bath, setting you down in the water before twisting the faucet off and discarding his own clothing. Then he climbs in behind you, slotting his body between yours and the cool marble.

“C’mere, baby. Nice and close to daddy,” he murmurs as he pulls you onto his thighs.

You sink into his chest. The feeling of his skin against yours is almost enough to make it all better, enough to make you forget about earlier. You nuzzle into his muscular front, making him smile. He strokes your face and takes care to avoid getting your ears wet.

Both baths and showers used to make you anxious, and he knew that. One of the details you had shared with him about your life at the shelter was having to share the space with all the other hybrids, including the bathrooms. You’d told him how much you hated it, and he could only imagine. He tried extra hard now to make both as comfortable for you as possible, pampering you like an absolute princess.

Thinking about all this, him going above and beyond for you like he always did, makes you turn more into his body. Your arms loop around him, and you place your head beside his, obscuring your downtrodden expression from his vision. Your chin rests on his shoulder as he returns the embrace and holds you closer.

“My perfect girl,” he whispers.

The words are complimentary, but right now, the second in particular stings like a blade. You nestle your face against the warmth of his throat and tighten your limbs around him, trying to drown out the bad swirling inside of you with the feeling of his flesh on yours.

He knows you’re still acting a little unusual. Maybe your heat was right around the corner and it had you feeling extra needy. Maybe you were just still a bit sad about missing out on a day with him. He wasn’t totally sure, but he just wanted to make it better. And the way you were starting to press against him, breasts flush against his chest and the warmth of your thighs pressing against either side of him had his cock starting to stiffen up.

“Sweet thing… you wanna feel a little closer, hm?” he murmurs, fingertips rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back.

You weakly nod.

“Is this close enough? Or should daddy get even closer? I think being inside would feel even better,” he whispers.

You nod again, this time with more motivation. “Please daddy,” you mumble.

“Of course. All you had to do was ask,” he says. He lazily strokes himself a few times beneath the water, getting himself a little harder before he lifts you slightly and slides in.

A soft moan drifts out of you as he lowers you again. You put your head back down on him and sit with the comfort of being full.

“There’s my baby bunny,” he coos in a low voice.

He also takes in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in. The feeling of your warm, wet embrace wrapped around him.

The two of you sit quietly for a while more, the bathroom silent except for the occasional trickle of water when one of you shifts. Flickering lights from the candles paint the walls in dim orange as the scent of the bubble bath takes over the air completely.

But to Leon’s dismay, your mood doesn’t seem to be brightening up. You don’t start squirming with the need to ride him like you normally would. You don’t get extra sappy with him and start going for more kisses or longing looks. 

He reaches for the wash cloth resting on the brim of the tub and soaks it in the water. He squirts some soap onto it and gently rubs it up and down your back. He can feel your muscles losing some of their tension, but you’re still withdrawn. He continues tenderly cleaning you off while you sit with him inside you.

After a few moments more, not knowing becomes unbearable. “Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks softly.

“Nothing, I’m-”

“You’re not just sleepy,” he interjects. His voice is still loving despite the confrontational manner of the conversation. 

He gently guides you away from his body so you’re kneeling straight up in the bath. His eyes scan you over, trying to make this easier by figuring out what it is, but he can’t. He brings the wash cloth up to your chest and starts brushing it against your chest, between your breasts, and down your belly.

“I know something’s wrong, and I know you’re scared of talking about things like this. But I would honestly prefer you telling me what it is, even if it comes out harsh, to sitting here and trying to figure out what’s bothering you,” he says as he rubs your skin with the soft cloth.

“I don’t know,” you say timidly.

“I’m only asking because I care. I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is. Seeing you hurting hurts me too, baby,” he responds.

“I’m not lying. I don’t know,” you say again, some defensiveness seeping into your words, “I don’t know why I feel bad. I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong. I just- I felt sad earlier, and I know I shouldn’t feel sad which makes me more sad.”

He sees the panic rising in your eyes and hears your words becoming more rushed. In an effort to keep the situation controlled, he pulls you back to his chest, hushing your worries by engulfing you with his arms. You reciprocate the motion, eager to retreat from your emotions. He takes a pause to grapple with what you had just said.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t feel sad?” he asks.

“Because… because there’s no reason to be sad,” you answer.

“If you’re sad, then there’s a reason to be sad,” he says and looks down at you with growing concern.

You shake your head. “No, there isn’t,” you whimper. You start to feel tears collecting in your eyes while your throat feels like it’s constricting. “You make everything so perfect for me, and I can’t do the same for you.”

He’s beyond confused at this point. He feels a couple tears fall against his neck, and all he can do is hold you tighter.

“Woah, woah, baby, c’mon,” he says, trying to prevent more tears, “What are you talking about? Perfect? I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“Yeah, exactly because you are perfect. You never push me. You never ask for too much. You never do anything bad, and I still get like this,” you cry.

“... Is that a bad thing?” he asks, still lost.

“No, but I just wanna be perfect for you too. You work so hard all the time at your job, and then you come home and you have to deal with me,” you weep and cling onto him more, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he says in a hushed voice, “You’re exactly what I want. I couldn’t ask for anything more than you.”

“Yes, you could. You deserve someone who can give you what you give. You deserve someone who’s not fucked up by stupid stuff from the past,” you cry, “I’ll never be a perfect pet, and I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

His chest aches and tightens up when he hears that. He starts to pull out, figuring this wasn’t the time to be balls deep inside you, but you stay locked around him so he stays put.

“Sweetheart, you’re not… I don’t see you as…” he starts, being careful with his words.

You continue your quiet crying against him.

“You’re more than a pet to me,” he decides, soft but firm, “You don’t disappoint me ever. You can’t disappoint me because I don’t have expectations of what you should be. You’re not some dumb animal that I want to mold into a fantasy. I know you were treated like that before, but that’s not what you are to me. You’re my baby bunny. My little love.”

More tears spill out onto him. The bathwater ripples with the shaking of your body.

“You’re not fucked up,” he whispers, “That stuff you went through at the shelter, that’s a big deal. I don’t expect you to just be able to move on from that like it’s normal. You need some extra care, and I’ve known that since the first day you came home with me. It’s not a bad thing. It’s something I love about you. I’m not dealing with you when we do things like this. You’re not a burden to me.”

“Promise?” is all you can choke out right now.

“I promise, baby. Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmurs and kisses your temple. He sighs and squeezes his arms around you before saying a little more amidst the quiet of the bathroom. “I’m not gonna pretend I know exactly how you feel. But I know how it is to get shoved into a life you didn’t ask for. To get expectations put on you that you can never meet. I don’t want you to feel like that with me. I love you, and I’m gonna love you whether you’re a perfect ‘pet’ or not. That’s not what’s important to me.”

You know he’s being genuine. You hold yourself closer and press a few faint kisses to his throat. “I’m sorry,” you cry.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he whispers, “Just try and calm down for me, sweet girl. Take some deep breaths.”

You do as he says and work towards settling down. Your breathing slows, and the tears slowly stop. He grabs another washcloth and wets it. He guides your head up and gives you a small kiss before dabbing at your cheeks and cleaning your face of any remaining sadness. Your eyes flutter shut and relax under the loving care of his movements. He tends to your hair next, caring for it how you need.

Once your bath is done, he pulls out of you. You give him a little pout, bringing a smirk to his face.

“Patience, little one,” he teases before standing up with you in his arms.

He taps the stopper with his foot, draining the bathtub as he steps out. He sets you down so he can wrap a towel around his waist and then bundles you up in a big fluffy one. He dries you off and brings you in front of the mirror. He applies some product to your ears, something he’d gotten to keep them from drying out. You can’t help the smile on your face as his fingers gently rub down your long, fluffy ears. You can feel his love through his motions. He follows it with your hair routine, going through each step with precision and making sure to do it just how you like.

Before he takes you to the bedroom, his arms curl around your waist and he slots his head next to yours, gazing into your eyes through the reflective glass of the mirror.

“My baby bunny,” is all he says before pulling you out to the bed and laying you down on it.

He gets some of your lotion, a scent he’d become so familiar with. He rubs it all up and down your legs, taking time to lightly massage as he works. His hands glide all over your body, over your hips, up your sides, across your chest, and down your arms to your hands. Every inch of you was going to feel soft as silk if he could help it. The soft sighs of pleasure that come from you are enough to keep him thoroughly invested in the process.

When he’s finished, he plants a kiss on your lips and gets up. He heads to the door where you had dropped the shopping bags from earlier. He’s rifling through them, pulling out some new items you could wear to bed. He fishes out a cute t-shirt and some smooth panties when he hears your voice call to him.

“Wait, daddy?” you say.

“Yeah, baby?” he responds immediately, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Come back,” you request.

He looks at you curiously but stands up and walks back to the edge of the bed where you were sitting. Looking down at you lovingly, he holds your jaw and squeezes your cheeks. “What is it?”

“I don’t wanna get dressed yet… Maybe I could still have my treat… if you want to,” you initiate timidly while grabbing the hem of his towel.

He smiles and breathes out a laugh. “Yeah? You’re feeling better and need daddy again?” he asks teasingly, letting you tug the towel loose. It crumples to the floor behind his legs and unveils his cock to you.

“Always need my daddy,” you say, looking up at him.

“Don’t I know it,” he teases.

He pushes you back on the bed and crawls on top of you. Leaning down, he kisses and nips at your neck. His hands squeeze your hips. You nuzzle the side of his head affectionately. Out of the corner of your eye you see him swat away the plush cow that sat nearby on a pillow from when you’d thrown it earlier.

“Hey,” you say, feigning protest, “That’s mean. He didn’t do anything.”

“I’m sure he’ll forgive me,” he says with a grin.

Your body is already exposed from the bath, and he takes advantage. He kisses down along your collarbone towards the valley of your breasts. His palms cup them at the sides as his lips coast over them. He always took his time with you when he could. He’d get to rush when you were in heat and soaked just from being in the room with him.

Your fingers lace through the strands of his hair as you draw in a sharp breath. He laves at your nipples and the sensitive flesh of your breasts. His tongue caresses along the curves slowly, building your anticipation and causing your tummy to start fluttering.

His hand slides down your body, dipping between your legs to seek out your center. His fingers brush against the velvet folds and feel how they’re beginning to grow slick with your arousal. He swirls around your clit before pressing down on the sensitive nub and rubbing. Your lips part as you mewl.

“Is daddy already making you feel good, baby?” he coos.

You nod as your face starts to morph into that pouty look you get when you’re worked up. He loves every second of it and continues flicking his middle finger against the bud.

“You gonna let me show you how perfect you are, hm?” he asks.

You simply whine in response and tilt your head back against the pillows.

“That’s my girl. So fuckin’ pretty when you get like this,” he says.

He swipes his fingers up and down some more until he feels you're wet enough and ready to take him. He was certain you could take it without as much prep. Over the last couple of months, you’d you’d shown him the phrase “fucking like rabbits” was true after all, but he liked making you feel like you needed it. He like dragging his tip against your entrance, teasingly prodding the head of his cock at your hole. He savored the way you whine and squirm for it. Just like you were doing right now.

He pushes it in you, a deep groan coming from him as he sinks in all the way to the hilt. The way your eyes flutter and droop drives him crazy. His arms cage you down on the mattress as his knees sink into the plush blankets for leverage so that he can start thrusting.

“Perfect fit, that’s for sure,” he grunts, “No one else can take my cock like you can.”

You nod, whimpering and holding onto him. “Made for my daddy,” you say before gasping.

“Yeah you were. My perfect angel bunny. Sent down just for me,” he says and starts rocking his hips.

You writhe within the confines of his arms. Your breasts push up against his chest as your back arches. He fucks into you deep as he can, just how he knows you like it. Gripping your wrists, he pins them on the mattress, keeping you secure and in place so that he can piston his hips against you without interruption.

His own head tilts back, eyes shutting and lips separating the smallest bit. You gaze up at him like he’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Every bit of him makes you clamp around his length.

“Such a good girl,” he mutters, “This is just what you needed. Just needed daddy to breed you and get you nice and calm again.”

That word makes your fuse burn faster, and you nod vigorously. “Can’t help it daddy,” you whimper, “I’m just a bunny. Don’t know any better.”

“Oh, I know, baby. Sweet little bunny like you needs to be bred. You need daddy’s cock to function, don’t you? Nothing feels right if you haven’t been bred,” he says, picking up more speed.

“Mhm,” you squeak.

Your legs start trembling hard as he hammers into your sweet spot over and over. To stabilize you, he lets go of your wrists and places his palms on the back of your thighs. He’s pressing you so hard into the mattress it feels like you might drop through straight to the floor. You cry out for him again and again, spurring him on.

“Good girl. I gotta breed my perfect little bunny. Fuck you nice and full like you deserve,” he grunts. The bed creaks with the force of his movements.

He pants as he drills into you. His head eventually falls forward to your shoulder again, but his hips don’t stop rolling.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum so hard, you’re gonna end up with a whole litter,” he moans.

Your eyes roll back and your legs lock around his waist. “Need it, daddy. Please,” you whine and clutch at his shoulders.

“I need it too baby. Need to knock up my sweet baby bunny. Gotta get you nice and full so everyone knows you’re all mine,” he says.

You’re both almost at the peak, gripping each other as tight as possible, sucking in air like there’s a limited supply. Both of you are moments from snapping when Leon’s eyes screw shut, his mind clouded by images of you pregnant with his babies. It’s too much, and he’s snapping into you like he’ll die otherwise.

“You’re gonna be the prettiest mama to our perfect babies,” he moans against you before his body starts sputtering.

The feeling of his cum flooding into you is enough to throw you over the edge with him. You seize up, back arching off the bed like you're possessed. You babble out some words of love, but all of it gets lost. You’re so jumbled up from the high, you both can only cling to each other as you ride it out.

You’re still breathing heavy as you come down, and so is he. Puffs of his breath come out right next to your ear. He lazily kisses below the lobe as you come back to reality.

“You see how important to me you are? See how much I love you?” he murmurs as he carefully rolls over and brings you to rest on his chest with him still buried inside you.

You nod and peck his jaw as you settle against him.

“Good. I never want you thinking like that again. If you ever need a reminder of what I think of you, I want you to tell me, and I’ll give you this same reminder.”

“I will,” you agree softly as he strokes your back.

You’re both exhausted from the exertion and the long day. He’s content to just melt into the bed while tangled up with you.

“Gonna keep you plugged up for a while, baby. Gotta make sure it takes, my sweet girl,” he mumbles as his eyes start drooping.

You gaze up at him, pretty sure you have hearts in your eyes. Your doubt and sadness had been abated for now. You nuzzle him and kiss his chest before trying to get some rest yourself. 

“Love you daddy. So so much,” you whisper.

[hyunverse]

elise ‧₊˚✩彡 lee felix

brother’s best friend!lee felix x reader. genre — fluff. just fluff. so much fluff wc — 1471 words. about — in which you and felix are just hopelessly in love with each other. note — a drabble for my 4k event! the song is elise by the greeting committee

“I’m outside,” the text reads.

It doesn’t matter that you get this variation of text almost every night. You’ll squeal every time. You’ll grab the hoodie by your coat rack and put it on, then sneak out through your window every time. You’ll get in his car and kiss him hello every time. Every single time. You’re weak for him and he knows it — loves it. Felix loves the way you’ll get into his car with a sheepish smile, grinning even more when you spot him smiling up at you too. 

You couldn’t be happier to climb out of your window, his sweatshirt hugging your body and providing you warmth. With one foot already outside the window, you look back to your door to double-check the door lock. You nod once you see that it’s already locked, proceeding to climb out to the tree beside your window, careful as to not make any noise.

You’re not supposed to be outside after dinner. A curfew your family have set for you — the princess of the family. You’ve argued multiple times with your mother about the curfew set, saying that it’s unfair that Hyunjin, your older brother’s curfew is one hour later than yours — which your mother has argued back by saying that he’s older than you, albeit only a year older. It’s annoying, being a college student with an overprotective family. 

Hence why you sneak out every time Felix wants to take you out on a midnight drive. For one, it’s past your curfew and secondly, you’re not supposed to be dating Felix — your brother’s best friend. Dating is already one thing, you’re still Hyunjin’s five-year-old little sibling in his eyes, but dating his best friend? If he finds out, his head would probably fall off from whiplash. 

“Hi,” you softly greet him as soon as you open his car door, “I missed you.”

“Hello there,” he greets back, turning to face you, “climb in, pretty.” 

One of his hands stays on his steering wheel, the other on his gear stick. Felix’s brown hair is messy, the side of his face glowing from the street lamp he parked his car under. You can see his freckles better under the fluorescent light, you have to hold back from immediately grabbing his face and littering kisses on each freckle. Not that he’d mind if you did.

You climb into the car, shutting the door close behind you. No time is wasted as you inch closer to kiss his cheek, earning a satisfied sigh from him. Like routine, he then drives off to somewhere else — somewhere none of your family members can catch you being outside past your curfew, somewhere Hyunjin won’t catch you making out with his best friend in the backseat of a BMW.

“You look so pretty,” Felix says the moment the two of you are seated in the backseat.

It’s cold. And dark — but none of that mattered when you’re with Felix. A paper bag of McDonalds sits on the front passenger seat as the two of you sit at the back, holding onto each other for dear life. Felix is glued onto your side, his head resting at the side of your neck. You can smell his coconut shampoo, his cologne and vanilla ice cream — he reeks of familiarity and you love it. You love everything about him, from the constellation-shaped freckles on his complexion to the depth of his voice as he speaks love mantras into your skin. 

“You’re prettier,” you whisper back, as if he would break if you were any louder, “I don’t know what it is but you look extra prettier at night.” 

He laughs. The sound makes you want to weep. 

“That’s so back-handed, baby. It’s like you’re saying I’m pretty when you can’t see me well.”

You scoff, “that’s not what I mean! It’s just. . . the night light makes you glow in a different way. Or maybe it’s because you always have messy hair at night. . . it’s cute.”

Felix hums, then takes your hand into his. The moment he feels how cold your skin is, he clasps another hand on top of yours, warming it up by brushing them together. You take it as an opportunity to inch impossibly closer to his body, to the point where all you could smell is his coconut shampoo. He leans back against your body, before dropping your hand to wrap an arm around your waist.

“How has your mother never caught you sneaking out, hm?”

“No idea. Guess the world’s just on my side lately.”

“The things you do for me, love,” he chuckles, “love you so much. You know that, right?”

“I know. You’re worth everything ever, Lix.”

He feels like crying at the statement. But he doesn’t — instead, he closes the gap between you two with a kiss. A needy kiss. A hurried kiss. A kiss which screams his desperation and his love for you, one that’s breathless and passionate. 

“Love you, love you so much,” he chants between kisses, having to pull away so often from his eagerness.

You pull away after a while, resting your forehead against his. 

“You’ll be the death of me, Lix, swear to god.”

“Mm,” he hums, “hey. Wanna do something a little crazy?”

“Depends on how crazy it is,” you raise an eyebrow, “what do you have in mind?”

God, the things you do for him.

Upon parking his car somewhere secluded — far away from your family’s peripheral vision, you two end up climbing into the comfort of your bedroom. Felix’s idea of something crazy is letting him stay over for a night at your house, knowing full well that you’re dead if you get caught. Especially if it’s your brother who catches the two of you — you shudder at the thought of him questioning Felix’s intentions or some sappy shit like that. 

“You haven’t made your bed from last time,” Felix points out, “the side I slept on is still messy.”

He plops down onto the bed, causing it to bounce a little. The last time you didn’t follow your family on a vacation, you had invited Felix to sleep over. It was roughly a week ago, and you haven’t made his side of the bed ever since. You left it messy, serving as a reminder that he once laid there, tangled in your sheets and your limbs. You like it that way.

“Mm,” you hum, taking off your sweatshirt and hanging it on your coat rack, “makes me think of you every night.”

Your boyfriend’s gaze softens at your statement.

“You know, if we get caught, it’s all your fault.”

He shrugs, “so? What are you going to do then? Spank me?”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Yongbok.”

He laughs at your eye roll, before patting his side, inviting you.

“Come on, lay with me.”

You do as he says, falling onto your bed and into his arm. Your breath fans against his skin when you hide your face in the crook of his neck, your voice low as you start a conversation. 

It’s meaningless pillow talk, yet meaningful at the same time.  He knows he won’t remember the entire conversation tomorrow, but the small details will definitely stick. Details like what you saw at a jewellery store which you really liked, and a song that has been stuck in your brain lately. 

Something about your company makes him sleepy. In a good way — not in a way where you bore him, absolutely not — but in a way where Felix feels entirely comfortable around you. He could strip himself off any shield and let you see him in all his vulnerability, but he knows it’ll be okay. That he’s safe. The sound of your voice talking about something along the lines of a tv show you’ve been hooked on all week slowly lulls him to sleep. Soon, he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

“Lix?” you look up at his face, “sleepy?”

“Yeah,” he replies absent-mindedly, “let’s sleep.”

“Okay,” you utter, getting up to turn off the lights. A few groans elicit from his lips when you slip out of his grip, which you chuckle at. One thing you’ve learned about Felix is that he gets especially needy when sleepy.

“Come to bed quickly,” he demands, “want you.”

“Trying my best here, baby.”

“You know I love you a lot, right?” you hear him speak the moment you get back into the duvets beside him.

You could only hum, too overwhelmed by adoration to reply with full sentences. The duvet shifts as Felix adjusts his body to get closer to your figure. His eyes are still shut, breathing steadily and whispering absent-mindedly. 

“So thankful I’ve got you,” the brunette whispers again, “you make my hard days easier, pretty.”

With a chaste kiss onto your lips, Felix falls asleep. 

taglist (send an ask to be added) — @zoe8stay , @starlostseungmin , @bakugossanity , @hwajin , @sleepyleeji , @skizzel , @bbujiikseu , @asters-abditory , @byjeekies , @jdopes-recorder , @sherryblossom , @strayingawayy , @cb97whoree , @g4m3girl , @jeonginwrld

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[sweetly-yours-and-mine]

Summary: A midnight picnic

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Reader

Warnings: smutty but no smut, reader is a tad bit horny and possessive idk how good this is please bear with me

Word Count: 744

When Santiago lifts the wine bottle to his mouth, wine dribbles down his chin and neck. 

Without thinking about it, you lean in and lick it away, the stubble littering his skin poking against your tongue. It’s a sweet white blend, something crappy you used to drink in college. 

Against him, it’s like drinking from the fountain of life. You can’t help yourself. With the taste of the wine in your mouth, you follow the sharp edge of his jaw with your tongue and bite down into the soft flesh of skin underneath his ear. 

Something ripe and possessive rises up inside you. You want to tear off a piece of his skin for yourself. 

“Christ,” he pushes you away. “What the hell’s come over you?” He rubs where you’d bitten, and you take the wine bottle from him, taking a sip yourself.

Inside you, something churns in arousal as you think about his mouth and how it was at the same place yours is just a few moments ago. 

Without the taste of his skin, you hate the taste. It reminds you of too many memories you would like to forget. Right then and there you decide that the only way to drink this wine is with Santiago mixed in. You want to drag him back inside from the fire escape and onto your bed, make love to him and bite him with the wine in your hand. 

Pour it down his chest and watch it dribble down to his soft tummy where you’ll lick it away before moving down and letting his hands hold your head for his pleasure. 

There was something about Santiago that hung around him like a cloud. Hazy and smoky, you'd call it mustard gas had it not been for how pretty it made him look. Like the gathered up petals of a rose. 

He looks even prettier in the gentle hand of the moonlight, the lights of the city only serving to highlight his best features. 

It's unfair.

Wearing a pair of tattered shorts that hit him on his upper thigh, a loose t-shirt that hangs off his shoulder and exposes his inner chest, he looks like something you only could have dreamed of before, something you didn’t know was allowed to exist. 

The thick wave of humidity that’s taken the city by the neck, that makes you feel sweaty and gross, makes Santiago's hair, the longest he's ever worn it since he left the army, loose and curled, like each one was painted on to his head with a careful hand. 

In moments like these you lose your words. They slip out of you, flowing past and away away. 

You pass the wine to him and instead take the box of chocolates in your hands. 

You’re not sure how Santiago came into your life. This fairy-like, god of a man that arouses in you a strange need to own. 

One day Santiago wasn’t there, and then the universe was there. The wood panels had been pulled away and you’d bounded onto the racetrack in galloping steps. 

He’s rubbing at the skin you’d latched on to like an animal, but still you’re not satisfied with the mark you tried to leave on him. It might be the heat that’s making you delirious, awakening in you wants and desires that had lain dormant for dozens of centuries now. 

“Sorry,” you murmur gently, though your tone gives it away that you want to do it again. 

He looks at you for a moment and then he shakes his head, laughing, “S’fine.” He reaches forward again and takes the wine, takes a long drink from it and makes you want to try it once more, to see if the taste would be any different from the last time, if the memories would change, turn pleasant and comfortable. 

“You wanna spend the night?” 

It’s a hot one, going to be even hotter when he joins you in bed as well, your double a bit of a tight fit for the size of him but at least your AC unit is half-working and his isn’t. 

“You don’t haveta get me drunk to get me to sleep with you, baby,” he grins and pulls you forward to kiss. 

His tongue rubs against yours and presses the taste of chocolate and wine into your soul. The humidity hangs heavy around you, a tight grip around your throat.

Thanks for reading, if you liked it, please consider leaving some feedback! I don't usually respond, but I obsess and re-read reblogs and comments constantly.

Masterlist here. Summer Drabbles here.

[rachalixie]

breaking your walls

a/n: this is for @menta1y-unstab1e’s request for a hurt/comfort felix fic! i hope you like it!! please pay attention to the warnings on this one, everyone.

bad day? what about a bad life. feels like that’s a trend for you, until you see a blonde angel and he saves you (university au)

warnings: reader has a bad home life, several mentions of insecurity, implied anxiety, gender neutral reader x felix

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 1175+

the one thing you hated about summer break was the frequency of time you spent at home. you had nowhere else to go - all of your friends you met at university scattered to different towns and cities during break. back inside of your university’s campus, you felt safe. you felt more at home than you did in your actual home.

home. what a joke, you think as you walk angrily away from your house after a heated argument with your mom, not being able to physically be in that space any longer. you can’t help but grab at your hair in frustration, messing it up as hot tears run down your face, but you don’t care.

a home wasn’t where you were in constant fear of another argument about your future. of another fight concerning where your life is going. of another unsolicited comment about how you’re falling behind, about how your brother was going to go much further than you, about how you’re the fuck up of the family. of another snide remark digging at your hair, your weight, your clothes, your everything.

your feet blindly take you to your favorite spot in your neighborhood, a small abandoned playground that was forgotten once a shiny new one was built a mile away. it reminded you of yourself, sometimes. why can’t people see the value in things just because they look worn out on the surface?

you squint as you approach the small space and see a figure gently swinging back and forth on your swing. the closer you get, the more familiar the figure gets, until-

“felix?” you ask, bewildered enough to stop in your tracks at the edge of the mulch lot. why was your sweet hallmate with golden hair and pretty freckles sitting on your swing? why was this kind, considerate boy who you got partnered with for your english presentation last semester in your neighborhood at all? “do you…live here?”

“well, my family just moved here a couple months ago, when we were still at uni. they got a dog too! he barks all night. i had to get out of there. it was driving me mad,” he rambled cutely, forgotten swing lulling to a stop. he takes a moment to look at you, at the dried tear tracks on your face and the mess of your hair. “hey, are you okay?”

“i-,” you start, a lie starting to form on your lips about how you’re okay and for him not to worry. it’s your first instinct usually. it fizzles out when you meet his eyes and you see genuine concern on someone’s face for the first time in so long. “i’m not okay.”

the confession sneaks out of your lips before you can stop it, and all the tension leaves your body like a taut string being cut, leaving you to fall into the swing next to him tiredly.

“hey,” he says gently, prying your fingers off of where you were white-knuckling the chain of the swing. he holds your hand instead, not even blinking when you squeeze his hand bsck probably a bit too hard. “you don’t have to talk about it but i’m here if you want to.”

his kind words registered and it’s like a dam broke, words rushing out of your mouth like water flooding out. you talk about how unfair it is that you’re constantly fighting for a voice in your own home, how wrong it is to constantly be ridiculed and put down for your mind and your decisions and your appearance, how you wish you never had to go home again. you even bring up how you’ve had to work for your scholarship to even go to school and how you’re constantly in fear of losing it all. he finally stops you there, reacting for the first time since you started past light nods and noises of understanding.

“you scored at the top of the class in the two classes we shared. i cant imagine you did more poorly in your other classes. and even if you did, that doesn’t define your worth. you are worth something, you’re worth so much. do not let them tear you down because they can’t appreciate the person standing right in front of them.” his voice was strong and passionate, each word resonating inside of you and punching more tears out of your eyes.

“and for the record. you’re absolutely gorgeous,” he says, flushing a little as he plays with your hands. the blood rushes to your cheeks too; how is this beautiful, ethereal man calling you gorgeous?

“open up my contact on your phone,” he instructs suddenly, and you follow diligently. he takes your phone gently and punches in some words before handing it back to you. you look curiously, eyes widening when you see an address added.

“if you ever need somewhere to go, come to me. okay?”

so you did.

every other day you found yourself at his house, playing with his dog or talking to his mom or baking cookies with him. sometimes you’d show up in tears and he would drag you to his room to let you rant, holding you gently. sometimes he ranted, frustrated with his sister or his father or his ambitions to become a dancer that just seemed so hard to reach. sometimes you were both in a poor mood, and you’d sit in silence with just each other for company. and sometimes you were both happy, playing video games together and shoving each other to make the other lose. the constant was that he was there, always, whenever you needed him.

and yet you almost couldn’t believe yourself when you were a little disappointed as the fall semester got closer. you were beyond happy to go back, to see your friends, to learn, to live on your own again. but this thing with felix? you didn’t want to let that go. what if he decided this was just a summertime fling? you didn’t know if your heart could handle losing him now. you didn’t know how to define the feeling he gave you, but the word that came to mind was safe.

the night before you were set to leave your feet once again lead you to your swing, where you see a familiar figure slumped in the seat, swinging idly back and forth. you sit next to him and bump your seat with his, making him laugh under his breath.

“you’re not gonna forget about me when we go back, are you?” you say after a few moments of comfortable silence, every insecurity you’ve ever felt surfacing and bubbling in your chest. he turns in shock to look at you, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

“oh, (y/n),” he says, reaching out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “i love you, i’ll never forget you. i thought you knew.”

oh. so this is what love feels like?

i could get used to this, you think as he walks you home later, pinkies intertwined.

—

masterlist

[toomuchracket]

reader marching george to one of the teachers when she feels like he’s received a much lower grade than he deserves because

1. some teachers are vindictive (seriously why go into teaching if you can’t be patient with kids)

2. she tutored him for this specific subject and he did really well with her so it’s impossible for him to do that shit on the actual test

3. he insists he does not care about the grades (he’s “too cool to care about that shit”) but lowkey he’s bricking it and she can tell

4. this is severe injustice and she will not stand for it (and the fact that it’s her crush on the receiving end makes it even worse)

george comes into the class you guys sit together in one day (a different subject) and he's really deflated like "only just scraped a pass on that chemistry test i had the other day" and you're like "genuinely how the fuck is your grade so low i literally helped you study for that for weeks and you were doing great???? and you texted me to say you thought it went well???? this isn't right" and george tries to shrug it off and be like "doesn't matter, a pass is a pass" and you're like "fuck that! we are going to talk to someone". george is like "really it's alright!!", but you're getting properly riled up because he worked so hard and it's genuinely impossible for him to have done so poorly - like, the boy was correcting YOU on facts about hydrocarbons the day of the assessment - and yeah ok fine you also hate seeing his pretty face all sad. and you know the teacher george has for chemistry is a vindictive little bastard (a.n. i am in fact basing him on my own chem teacher), so you figure that he's not even bothered to mark the test properly because he likes to see people suffer, which is ridiculously unfair. but because you're a literal genius (and you know that teacher is a misogynistic self-serving cunt who won't listen to you), you drag george to someone higher up: the head of the department, who YOU have as a teacher this year and therefore they know you pretty well and trust that you're sensible and wouldn't do something for the sake of it. and you question if the tests for george's class have been cross-marked by another teacher, because you've been tutoring him and he's been doing really well but the test results were a lot lower than expected - thinking you give a really impassioned speech about how he's been taking his studying so seriously, you guys have been doing quizzes and past papers and making flashcards (you make george show the teacher these as proof), and you're actually really proud of him for all the effort he's put in, only for it to likely not have been recognised. george gets all glowy and blushy when he hears it all and sees how much you genuinely care about him, and the teacher is like "oh this doesn't sound good, i'll look into it" and properly apologises to him. the next week, the actual cross-examined marks are released, and you were right - the first teacher hadn't bothered to mark them right at all, so lots of people in the class had received grades they shouldn't have. anyway, george actually does end up getting an A; he comes into your shared class actually glowing about it, sits down and literally puts his arm around you to pull you closer to him and kisses your head like "thank you, you absolute angel, couldn't have done any of this without you". and you're freaking the fuck out because oh my god??? a pet name??? a cuddle??? a little affectionate head kiss??? dead. but you just ruffle his hair and say "you worked hard, you deserve it. i'm proud of you. now, keep up the effort for THIS class, yeah?" kinda laughing, and george is like "i'll literally do whatever you say honestly". and then class starts so you can't respond but you're internally like oh god oh fuck i have such a crush on him lol. and george is literally thinking the same thing about you (and is also literally planning your first date in his head at that moment) <3

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[manias-wordcount]

Cat and Mouse (Childe)

Kinktober 2021 Day Ninteen: Brat Taming

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

It was always cat and mouse between the two of you. You were the mouse. And he, the cat. Time and time again, that would be the game you two would play. But this time, it was all too real. A real chase, a real fear, a real risk, a real reward. And it was all happening so fast. Too fast for a little mouse like you to keep up.

 You hadn’t even left the Sea of Clouds before he caught you. You couldn’t even make it past the Golden House. And boy do you hate it.

“F-fuck!” You curse, tears pricking in at the corner of your eyes as he snaps his hips against yours again. “Fuck you...ah!”

 He’s got you pinned against a stone wall, just out of sight from the main path. The spot is barely hidden, and if it weren’t for the fact that it’s completely pitch-black dark outside, you’d almost say you’re completely and utterly exposed. But if anyone were to come too close right now, they could see how easily he’s has you cornered. How his pants are down by his ankles, and yours are tossed somewhere in a pile. How your arms are around his neck and how his large hands grip onto your hips. How his lips rarely leave your neck and how you just can’t seem to close yours. 

 How your leg is hooked itself around his waist, and his cock slips in you like it was meant to be.

 “I thought you would realize by now,” He murmurs into your heated skin. He places another few kisses up and down your neck, nipping at your most sensitive parts. His hands roll your body against yours, manipulating the pleasure you do and don’t feel. When he finally reaches up and places a kiss just below your ear, you hear him whisper out harshly- “I am fucking you. Did you go too stupid from getting some dick stuffed in your needy hole, or were you always this dumb?”

 You curse at him again, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head. But that doesn’t change the loud moan he pulls from your lips. Nor does it change the way your arms wrap themselves tighter around his next, practically allowing yourself to be carried by him. He’s an expert at this. Only minutes in, and he practically knows your body as if he owns it. All the right angles, all the right spots. You don’t know how much experience he has, and frankly, you don’t care. All you know is that it’s unfair. It’s unbelievably, completely unfair.

 You and the 11th Harbinger had always had a weird relationship. It started with him flirting with you once he made his way his way to Liyue harbor. And even when you made it crystal clear that you never wanted to be seen with the likes of him, he persisted with that stupid, easy-going smile on his face. To him, your rolled eyes and sharp jabs were a just challenge. Just a tease.

 And in truth, they were.

 He’s more than easy on the eyes. Your first glance at him told you that he was cute. Your double-take told you that he was handsome. Pretty hair with an even prettier set of eyes. His height is more than impressive and you found his slim build to be extremely attractive. His confidence was alluring, and the soft gazes he gave to you whenever the two of you were alone always left you feeling flushed. Not to mention the fact that he was very clearly a family man with deeper than deeper pockets and you were just as hooked to the chase as he was. He liked being the cat. You liked being the mouse. It was a win-win for both of you.

 And then you saw it. 

 You watched what happened at Yanshang Teahouse. 

 At your family’s teahouse.

 “When we get back to the Harbor, we’re going to talk about this, okay?” He growls into your ear. His words are direct and hold no room for argument. It’s like the Harbinger- the persona of a man in a position of high power took over. And he can be mean. He can be so mean when he wants to be. “You’re gonna cream yourself on my cock, then we’re going to go back to the harbor, sit down, and talk this like sensible adults, got it?

 “No!” You can’t help but defy him- to turn away from him the best you could and shake your head “no.” His reaction is immediate. He quickens his pace, his intensity, and lets out a low sound that sends shivers down your spine. You know it’s stupid but you can’t help but be mad. You don’t even know what you’re saying “no” to! But all you can focus on is how much you hate him. You hate him, you hate him, you hate him. 

 When you ran, you didn’t know where to go. You know he knew that your family owned that teashop. He would always be around there, staying for hours just to watch you work. But now you know. You know that is probably just an excuse to intimidate your family. All so he could swoop in one day and hurt them. And hurt you.

 “Y-you used me, didn’t you!” You ground out, swallowing down moan after moan. At your words, he brought his head away from your neck and stared down at you, hips slowing to a stop. For a second, you feel like there’s no sound. Nothing but your roaring heartbeat and your blood rushing past your ears. The silence is deafening, and you want nothing more than to scream. “You used me to get to my family you sick bastard-”

 “Make no mistake, everything I feel for you is real. Everything.” He grabs your chin as he cuts you off, voice quiet, quick, and harsh. He doesn’t break a sweat as he forces you to look him straight in the eye as he breathes out heavily. The look in his eyes is both feral and enraged. You could just see the way his jaw clenched and unclenched with every unspoken threat directed towards you. You didn’t know what to think. “Falling for you wasn’t a part of the plan. But if I have to put you in your place just to get you to listen to me, then so be it. Are we clear?”

 You’re blinking back tears in shock, clearly thrown off by his reaction. You honestly thought he was pursuing you because of your family- because of the debt and whatever that item he was after. But hearing him speak to you so seriously- was a surprise to you. This was nothing like the gentle Childe you used to know. This was nothing like the debt-collecter Child you thought you hated. This was the Childe who had no problem fucking you out in the open like this just because you ran. Just to teach you a lesson. 

 The snarl on his face deeps once you take too long to answer. A hand lets go of your hips and smacks your bottom hard. You cry out immediately, the feeling of being treated so roughly by him was such a foreign idea to you. But you can’t deny the way it made you feel. The way he makes you feel- even after all that happened. 

 So fucking needy.

 “I said: Are we clear?” He hissed out again, and you swore you could see a crackle of electricity- purple electricity spark behind his blue eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself, baby. You’re not going to like what happens when I repeat myself, baby.”

 Sometimes, you miss your soft ginger cat who could never keep up with you. But now that he’s finally got his hands on you- the mouse- you can’t help but have your breath taken away. Who would have ever thought something like this could happen with you a soft ginger cat who always seems to have more than enough mora on him? And when you miss him, you think about how he’s from somewhere far away with a handsome smile and sweet laugh. You think about all the times he came to the shop just to browse- which is code for “bother you until you kick him out.” You miss those moments. You used to think about them a lot. 

But more than anything, you can’t help but wonder. 

 And wonder and wonder and wonder and wonder about how you did it. 

 How you stood in front of the cat every single day and managed to convince yourself that he doesn’t have claws. 

[sukirichi]

“your hair is really soft” – jjk ver!

ft. itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento, ryoumen sukuna, & inumaki toge

ITADORI YUUJI – you’re in the room with Yuuji, who is busy watching the movies gojo-sensei had given him. He holds the cursed corpse in his other side, careful not to let him hit you, while your head lies on his shoulder, eyes drooping close from your long day. Yuuji turns the volume down and brings you closer to him until you’re practically sitting on his lap, his lips making brief contact at the crown of your head while he mumbles sweet nothings, too engrossed in the movie.

You smile at his sweet gesture, gently fisting the front of his jacket while you return the affection, kissing the edges of his jaw softly to not distract him too much. Yuuji’s lips tilt at the soft press of your lips on his warm skin. Soon, your hands rake up to his hair where your nails rake his scalp. Immediately, Yuuji deflates like a balloon as he purrs at the movement, making you chuckle in your sleepy daze.

“Your hair is really soft,” you note, and his eyes practically sparkle. Yuuji was a huge fan of hair gels and hair products, that his desk was filled with different brands all so he could keep his hair perfectly styled – in that somewhat natural, messy appeal. You love it on him and he melts at the fact you’ve noticed his efforts into taking care of himself. Most of all, the feeling of the smooth tendrils running past your fingertips like caressing a field of flowers lulls both you and him to a serene state.

GOJO SATORU – Like Yuuji, Gojo takes his time in styling his hair. You brush your teeth beside Gojo, who scowls as he struggles to keep his hair up the way he likes before he puts on his blindfold. The lanky man groans and adds more product, flattening the strands of his hair between his palms before swooping it up. When it falls down, Gojo whines, leaning forward on the sink counter.

You chuckle to yourself; he could be so dramatic sometimes. Bumping your hip with his, you gesture at him to move, and the big baby pouts before placing his chin on your shoulder as he watches you gargle. “Babe,” he sniffles, arms wrapping around your middle before his nose nuzzles into your skin. You giggle and push him away; the little bastard knew you were ticklish there. “My hair won’t stick up the way I want it to. Now I don’t look so cool anymore. What would my students say? That Gojo-Sensei stopped being attractive?”

That earns him an eye roll and a playful smack to his shoulder. “Ow!” Gojo rubs his shoulder with another pout, although both of you know nothing ever really hurts the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. “You’re mean.”

“And you’re just fishing for compliments.”

When Gojo hides his smirk behind his palm, you know you’ve hit the nail right on the head. Gojo was probably the most self-assured and overconfident man you’ve ever met – the day he thought lowly of himself and worried about anything concerning him that would ruin his “image” would be the day pigs could fly. Nevertheless, you give in with a sigh, extending your palm towards him.

“Give me the gel. I’ll fix your hair for you.”

“You’re a lifesaver, babe!” Obediently, Gojo crouches down so you could reach his hair, but not before muttering “shorty” under his breath. You tug at his hair harshly than you intended as payback, and Gojo only lets out a loud, fake moan before doubling over.

Your laughter and his bubble and echo through the cramped room, but both of you don’t mind. It’s moments like these you cherish with your whole heart even though it’s not extremely sweet or anything over the top. Dating a jujutsu sorcerer, the strongest one at that, wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns. You worry for him all the time and stay up awake all night, only ever finding peace in your sleep when he comes home safely – which he always does.

Still, you don’t stop worrying for him. It’s only natural, after all, and the way Gojo’s eyes soften as you slightly massage his scalp and style his hair for him lets you know he loves small moments like this too when both of you are completely alone in your own worlds, just enjoying each other’s presence and not having to think about anything else.

“Your hair is really soft,” you muse, unaware of the way Gojo’s closed his eyes as he lets your hand do the magic. When the familiar scent of vanilla and flowers wafts into your senses, you lean down closer to him to sniff his hair, stopping in your movements. “That’s odd. You smell like shampoo, but I haven’t bought that scent in a week.”

“Well, I may or not be the one who emptied it the last time,” he sheepishly chuckles.

“Gojo! That shampoo was really expensive!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to smell like you,” he coos, gently peeling your arms off him so he could hug you. Because of the height difference, you face plant into his bare chest where his skin is still warm from the shower. You keep feigning your irritation, but really, you squish your cheek above his heart, and Gojo’s chest rumbles as he laughs – he knows you can’t resist him. “Sorry about it babe, let’s go grocery shopping tonight when I come home, yeah?”

“You better buy your own shampoo,” you grumble, but Gojo only laughs.

  FUSHIGURO MEGUMI – Megumi is hunched over his desk, eyebrows pinched together while his hands move at an extreme speed. He’s studying while you scroll through memes on your phone, not wanting to disturb your boyfriend. Megumi is studious as ever, and it’s not that you aren’t, but you’re definitely a lot more relaxed than he is. 

You often tease him that you’ve got amazing memory by tapping your forehead whenever he tells you to study with him, which only makes him huff, but in reality, you refuse to study with him because he’s so distracting.

The way he bites his lip when he’s concentrated on something has your stomach erupting with butterflies, and it doesn’t help when his dark blue eyes pierce through the pages like the poor textbook committed a crime he couldn’t forgive.

All in all, Megumi’s beauty tripled tenfold when he was dedicated to something, and it was this fact that had you keeping your distance from him while he studies, because the last thing he needs is to have you jump him when he’s got an exam to prepare for. Unbeknownst to him, you’re angling your phone upwards until his beautiful side profile comes to view – and it’s so unfair his lashes are longer and thicker than yours – and you take a silent snap.

You take a few more pictures with a silent giggle, making sure to set it as your lock screen later. Nothing better than waking up to Megumi’s face every time your alarm went off, but your daydreaming is halted when Megumi drops his pen with a loud sigh.

“I know you’re taking pictures of me,” he side-eyes you with a glare. You squeak before hiding your phone behind you, knowing that it’s not out of the picture for Megumi to steal them and delete his precious photos. It didn’t help he knows your password either (duh, it’s his birthdate) so you take the extra mile by offering him a sickeningly sweet smile, an apology ready to leave your lips when – “If you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve just said so. I don’t mind taking a break or something.”

Although he sounds annoyed, the way he avoids your gaze to hide his reddened cheeks and ears say otherwise. Megumi’s back faces you as you wait patiently on his bed. You don’t want to bother him – you really don’t – so you stay put, and Megumi sighs for the hundredth time that night before spinning on his chair, arms stretched out wide open. “Come. Want hugs.”

He keeps his gaze on his lap to swallow the embarrassment of using baby-like words, which was a huge contrast from his quiet and cold persona. You don’t mind though. Deep down, Megumi is like everyone else who wants constant affection, so you leap out of his bed and jump into his arms. Megumi relaxes with your weight on top of him before he squishes his cheeks against your boobs – one of his quirks that you found endearing – a sign that he just wanted to relax for a little while.

Megumi isn’t really that huge on touch, so moments like this where he allows himself to be physically intimate with you has you floating on cloud nine. You hear him sigh between you, and you hide your grin by pushing his hair back to reveal those pretty eyes of his, beckoning him to look you in the eye.

As expected, his cheeks flush a beet red at the intensity of your gaze, but what really catches your attention is how his eyes just brighten even though they’re lined with dark circles. 

This precious boy means everything to you, and you cup his face until your noses are rubbing. “Love you, Gumi,” you whisper, the boy’s breath hitching when your eyelashes flutter against his skin. Megumi tsks, a faux scowl on his face because both of you are painfully aware that he just melts around you.

“Stop teasing me. You know I don’t like that.”

“I’m not teasing you,” you lie, brushing his hair back in a soothing manner to help him relieve the headache he gets when he studies too much. “You know, your hair is really soft. Can I keep doing this?”

Megumi hates it when people touch his hair, so you expect him to say no – and you’ll gladly respect it – but instead, he pushes you closer and murmurs, “Don’t stop doing that.”

You smile so wide you fear your face would break.

  NANAMI KENTO – You’ve always been fascinated with your co-worker. You don’t know what it is about the sharp-faced and stoic Nanami Kento that somehow makes him stand out from the rest. It’s not like he was smarter or better than anyone, although you do admit Nanami overworks most of the time.

It’s kind of pathetic you’ve been crushing on him ever since your first day of work. Maybe it’s because he worked with virtue and wishes to actually be honest instead of just sucking the money out of others. Maybe it’s because seeing him visit a bakery every after work makes him seem softer and a lot more human than his seemingly unapproachable nature. Whatever it was, you can’t explain why you’re so enamoured with the blond, or why you have the audacity to suddenly card your fingers through his hair at his desk that time.

You were told by your boss to give him this folder – quick, easy, and simple. But Nanami has this effect on you that he makes your brain go brr every time you go closer to him. You blame it on the fact both of you are alone at the office right now for OT, but when Nanami freezes under your touch, you realize the grave consequences of your actions.

As if you’ve touched something boiling hot – and he kind of is – you retract your arm and bow so deep you feel a vertebrae popping air. “I’m so sorry!” you begin to blabber, bowing repeatedly to the point your hair has become a mess. You can’t even look him in the eye – what were you thinking?! “I didn’t mean to, it’s just your hair looked really nice and soft and I couldn’t help myself! If you want to tell the higher-ups about this harassment and get me fired, I promise I won’t mind. In fact, I’ll take this to my grave and even offer my firstborn child as an apology—”

“Y/N.”

“because I’ve done something so horrendous and oh my gosh, I was just eating donuts and I probably got crumbs in your pretty hair—”

“Y/N,”

“And that’s really so low of me. Uh, actually, I may or may not have spent last month’s salary to buy my niece a huge ass dollhouse, but I’d gladly schedule a hair appointment for you—” you stop your words when you feel huge, calloused hands squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered out like a fish. Nanami stands before you, looking as handsome as ever, and that thought only has you panicking more and withdrawing. “I’m so sorry.”

Nanami sighs, pulling away to give you some space. You try to fight back the whine because not only did you look ridiculous under him, but also because you actually missed his touch.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” he takes the folder from you, pauses, then tilts his head to the side. “You think my hair is soft?”

“Uhm,” you blink rapidly, “Y-yes. Your hair is really pretty too. In fact, everything about you is pretty, like your hands when you type in paperwork but – I’m talking too much aren’t I?” you laugh nervously, scratching the back of your head. “I’m sorry. I tend to ramble when I’m nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” Nanami doesn’t sound like he believes it.

“Yeah,” you confess, switching your weight from one foot to another. At this point, you’ve given up on asking him out for coffee this weekend because you’re sure he’s labelled you as an idiot now. Not that it’s surprising though; not only does Nanami keep to himself out of social aversion, but you’re also pretty loud and awkward, a huge contrast to someone as well-put as him. “Anyways, uh,” you clear your throat, gesturing to your cubicle. “Now that you’ve got the file, I’m gonna go do my part. See you later, I guess. Or not. You can go home first you want. I’ve got quite a lot on my plate.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Sorry?”

Nanami organizes his desk one last time before following you to your desk. “I’m done with my part and it’s late. It’s not safe for you to walk home alone,” he glances at his watch, “I’ll wait for you until you’re done and walk you back home. That way, I don’t have to worry about your safety tonight,” he plops down on the empty seat next to yours, crossing his arms on his broad chest. “Take all the time you need. Just wake me up when you’re done.”

Just like that, Nanami dozes off, exhausted from a long day of hard work. You, on the other hand, are more energized than ever as you suddenly find a strong wave of motivation you’ve never had before.

Maybe you don’t mess up everything, after all.

  RYOUMEN SUKUNA – He groans when you giggle at him, using your small, dainty hands to brush it through his hair. Sukuna liked to sleep in and it was only seven in the morning, meaning he’s supposed to be still lost in dreamland with thoughts about you and your cute little face. But because you’re an annoying brat who’s an early bird and way too cheerful as a morning person, you’re wide awake when the sun shone through the windows, and you’re gently coaxing him awake by rotating your fingers through his hair.

“Your hair is really soft.”

“Stop that,” he complains, but doesn’t really do anything to push you away. “It’s too early. Go back to bed.”

“But I’m already awake,” you tease, proving your point by taking off his covers and patting his chest. “Come on, let me make you breakfast. Maybe we can go out today and go see a movie, what do you think? It’s my day off so we better make use of it!”

“Exactly, it’s a day off,” he growls the last part, surprising you when his strong hands grip your thigh and drag you beside him. Soon enough, Sukuna has you trapped in his muscular arms until you can’t move anymore. “Let’s just stay the whole day in bed. Plus, I’m the one making breakfast. There’s no way you’re still cooking for me on your day off.”

“But I love cooking for you.”

“I know, but it’s my turn now,” he huffs through your hair. Sukuna’s grip loosens around you a bit to give you room to breathe, but he’s taken aback when you only snuggle closer to him to the point your legs and tangled and your body is warm from his heat. You don’t have to say it out loud to tell him you’ve conceded to his wishes.

As always, Sukuna is right. It feels much better to just let go of time and enjoy this moment. And he smells so good, feels so warm, that you’re unable to stop yourself from burrowing closer onto his body until you’re sure you’re about to start smelling like him later.

Of course, Sukuna likes the thought of that, so he sweeps one arm behind to tug the covers back over your bodies. He kisses your temple, and with a low, husky voice, grumbles, “Let’s go back to sleep, then we’ll do everything you want later, okay? I just want to stay in bed with you a little longer.”

For a guy who was considered heartless and barbaric, he sure turned into putty in your hands.

  INUMAKI TOGE – The platinum haired boy lays on your lap, the wire of headphones dangling beside you both. You’re thankful Inumaki has his eyes closed, because the last thing you want him to see is how embarrassed and giddy you are at that moment.

You and Inumaki have been friends for years, meaning you’ve been hiding your crush on him for a painfully long time. He’s recently made a Spotify playlist with an innocent text of, “I made you a playlist of all the songs that reminds me of you,” which leads you both to your current predicament. It’s a rather lazy weekend and Gojo-sensei isn’t around to bother any of you, so you’re in Inumaki’s room, careful not to bounce your legs out of habit to not give the poor boy a headache.

You snap back to life when Inumaki squeezes your thigh, and you’re met with azure eyes looking back up at you. “Mustard leaf?” he points to your face, which has been previously constricted and heated from his close proximity. It isn’t the first time you and Toge have cuddled, but it’s been too long and you’re standing at the edge of a dangerous cliff with the desire to tell him you like him.

Inumaki must’ve thought you’re uncomfortable with his weight on you because he begins to sit up. “Oh, no, no!” you coax him back down despite his questioning eyes, a wide grin replacing your flustered state to conceal it. “Its’s fine, really. I was just vibing with the songs.”

He hums, not completely believing it, but he doesn’t want to push either. Soon, he settles into your lap again and makes you lose your mind when his breath starts to tickle your kneepads now that he’s facing behind you.

Your heart just about combusts, and before you know it, Inumaki has fallen asleep while the theme of Howl’s Moving Castle plays. Once his breathing regulated into a steady rhythm, you reach out to brush his hair back and lightly add some pressure for better sleep. You know Inumaki lies that, and you smile to yourself when he leans into your touch even in his slumber.

“Your hair is so soft,” you say mostly to yourself, leaning down to kiss his the crown of his head, making Inumaki sigh contentedly. Gosh, you love him so much.

Now isn’t the time but...hopefully, one day you could tell him how you feel. Even if he rejects you, you hope you could still be friends even after that awkward encounter –

You freeze as the next song comes on. I.F.L.Y by Bazzi comes on, and just as you cover your mouth to silence your gasps, you hear the faintest snickers coming from Inumaki before he goes back to “snoring.”

“Toge! Were you awake the whole time?!”

[kennyb0y]

Ride

timeskip!kawata nahoya (smiley) x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, it’s pretty vanilla bro idk, masturbation (m.receiving), riding, reader trying to be a dom, soft dom Nahoya

You’re laying on the couch watching a random tv show when Nahoya arrives home. It’s later than usual and you don’t bother to acknowledge his presence, choosing to ignore him and focus your eyes on the tv. It’s been happening a lot in the past few weeks and your boyfriend doesn’t even bother to give you an explanation. You trusted him, of course you did, but you still wanted a text beforehand letting you know that he was ok and going to be late.

That’s why you don’t bother to look at Nahoya while he takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I’m home.” he announces. You don’t answer and Nahoya chuckles a bit before lazily moving to the couch, lifting your legs before sitting down. “You mad at me?”

“Of course I’m mad at you. Where have you been?” you say, sitting down.

“M sorry, I’ve been having problems in the restaurant and forgot to text you.” he notices that his apology doesn’t seem to make you less mad. “What can I do to have you forgive me?”

“Oh I don’t know? Let’s see… maybe get home on time? Or at least give me an explanation. Oh what about texting me whenever you’re late so I don’t stay here wondering if you’re dead or cheating on me. So many things, Smiley.”

“I already apologized, baby. Come on, don’t be mad at me.”

It was like a lightbulb lit up on top of your head. Nahoya knew what was coming, you have been waiting for him to fuck up for so long and he almost regrets saying those words. You drag yourself to his lap, arms sneaking around his shoulders.

“No no no no. You know I will do anything but that.” He says.

“Scared of being submissive?”

“You know you can’t dom me. You’re gonna be begging for me to fuck you in no time. Let’s just skip the part where you try and let me take care of you baby.”

“Here’s what will happen.” you start. “You’ll be a good boy and do whatever I tell you to do.” you say, pulling his hair so he’s looking at you. “If you do as I say, I might reward you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I won’t let you cum.”

Nahoya smirks, hands grabbing your ass kind of as an agreement. He knew you were going to give up in no time. You were his little cumslut and he’d give you the false impression that you managed to make him submissive just so he could show you later why you could never dominate him.

You take off his shirt, hands traveling through his exposed chest. You kiss his neck moving your hips slowly against his growing erection. Nahoya just stays there, smile never leaving his face and hands placed on your ass. He doesn’t move nor tries to speed things up. You smile, proud that you managed to dom Nahoya that easily. Your hands go lower, trying to find his zipper. Nahoya helps you take off his pants and underwear before laying on the couch. His dick stands pretty, heavy on your hand. The fat tip leaks when your hand starts moving up and down. Your boyfriend sighs, eyes close while enjoying the touch. You grab his hand, bringing it to his cock.

“I want you to touch yourself. You aren’t allowed to cum so keep that in mind.”

Nahoya chuckles, his hand lazily moving up and down while looking at you. “A bit unfair that I’m the only one naked isn’t it?”

You laugh, taking off your (Nahoya’s) shirt. “Better?”

“No bra? Were you waiting for this, sweetie?” He teases, his hand picking up the speed.

You move his hands up his chest, fingers brushing his nipples. Nahoya lets out a broken sigh, his free hand coming to grab your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You pinch his nipple between your fingers. “You do this to me all the time. I’m just returning the favor.” you tease.

You keep a hand on his chest, the other going lower. Nahoya’s breathing gets heavier, his hand squeezing his cock trying to restrain himself from cumming. You move his hand out of the way, finger going down his length and touching the visible vein on the side. Your boyfriend was a great view, eyes closed and arm resting on his forehead. You never thought you would see him like this, so submissive under you.

“How long do you think it's gonna take for you to cum?” you ask, hand wrapping around his dick and slowly moving up and down, catching the pre-cum that leaks from his tip.

“I can… fuck… I can hold it for as long as I need.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like it.” you say giving the head a little squeeze.

You speed up your movements a bit hearing Nahoya’s groans getting louder while he does his best to take his eyes away from the way your boobs slightly jiggle with the motion.

“Can I cum?” He asks, his orgasm building up.

“If you ask nicely.”

“Just let me fucking cum, Y/N.”

“I told you I’d reward you if you were good. You’re being a brat right now, Nahoya.”

Saying that didn’t do much, Nahoya came in your hand almost immediately after those words came out of your mouth. Thick ropes of cum making a mess of your hand.

“I told you not to cum without my permission.” you whine, trying to make your boyfriend feel bad.

“Shit… you expect me to hold it when my hot girlfriend is sitting naked on top of me and giving me- what the fuck are you doing?”

You look at him, tongue out and hand close to your mouth. “You made a mess. I’m cleaning it up.”

Nahoya felt his dick starting to get hard again. You lick your fingers clean, already used to the salty taste of your boyfriend’s cum.

You push your panties to the side, hand moving to grab the man’s cock.

“Babe you gotta give me some time to- oh fuck.”

You go down slowly, making sure you give yourself enough time to adjust. Your nails scratch Nahoya’s chest, hips swaying back and forth. It doesn’t take much until you’re used to Nahoya’s fat cock stretching your hole. He moves his hands to grab your waist but you quickly slap them away. You place yours on his chest to give you support before you start riding him. Hips going up and down while Nahoya does his best to hold his moans and keep your hands off you. His dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm but the pain is making him feel even better. He looks at your tits, bouncing every time you move. He just wishes he could put them in his mouth. Bite them, lick them, kiss them. He loves your boobs.

It doesn’t take long before you start getting tired, legs burning while you try to reach your orgasm. Nahoya only smirks. He was proud after all. You managed to be in charge for more time than he thought. But he saw how your movements became sloppy, chasing your high and using his dick to get it. It wouldn’t take long before you were begging him for help.

“‘Hoya please.” you moan.

“Please what baby?”

“Can’t cum. Help me cum please.”

Nahoya laughs, arms behind his back while he watches you sweat on top of him, legs barely holding you up anymore.

“Can’t princess. Didn’t you wanna ride me? Fucking do it until you make us cum.”

The mean tone on his voice makes you whine, his name repeatedly coming out of your mouth while you try to move your hips again. You were so so close. If only your boyfriend could help you. Instead he just laid there. Smile never leaving his face watching you pathetically try to cum.

“Oh come on. It’s like you’re not even trying. Just fucking move.”

“I can’t!” you cry. “Please, please, please baby. Help me cum. I promise I won’t do it again.”

“Always so hungry for my cock.” He moves his hands to your hips. “Better not pull this shit on me again.”

He helps you ride him, your hands still on his chest trying to support your weight while he harshly pounds into your wet pussy. The skin clapping was the only thing your foggy mind could process, too fucked to even think. A series of “thank you” and your boyfriend’s name along with loud moans was the only thing coming out of your mouth.

With Nahoya’s help, you cum on his dick. Your arms give up and you fall on the man’s chest while he fucks his cum deep inside you.

“M sorry.” you murmur.

“I’m not mad at you.” He chuckles. “It was a nice try.”

“Promise you’ll let me know if you’re coming home late.” you say, eyes struggling to be open.

“I promise. I love you.” was the last thing you heard before you fell asleep, Nahoya’s hand caressing your back and giving soft kisses on your head.

Taglist: @bxnten @mizumellon @spookydraken @lagrimasdeglitter

[babybluebex]

laszlo kreizler nsfw alphabet

so yeah this... Happened. the zemo version is coming soon, stay tuned! (probably tomorrow morning bc a bitch is tired lmao)

(gif credit to @lindir)

A = Aftercare.

Laszlo is such an aftercare king. He’s checking on you in every way he can think of: asking you if you feel alright, maybe massaging your hips if he had you in a weird position, offering you dinner or wine, maybe even a hot bath, if you’d like (and the bath would have special perfumed oils he had sent from Paris because Laszlo is SUCH a self care whore, he’s got soaps and perfumes out the wazoo).

B = Body Part.

His favorite part of yours are your breasts. No questions, hands down. He likes using your breasts as a pillow at night— just settling himself between your legs and resting his head on your tits is a dream he indulges in frequently. He also really loves seeing you in the new French-style of dresses that have a lower neckline, and, if you wear one of those dresses to dinner without telling him beforehand, he’s as good as gone. He’s staring the whole time and can only manage simple sentences.

C = Cum.

I think Laszlo likes to cum inside you, but he also wouldn’t mind cumming on your tits. If you’re on your knees, sucking him off, he’ll pull himself out of your mouth and almost rip your blouse in his haste to set your tits free before his orgasm rips through him. He only chooses to cum inside you if he can’t cum on your tits (for example, if you’re having slow, kissy sex and he can’t bear to leave your wet heat).

D = Dirty Secret.

Laszlo. Loves. To. Be. Degraded. From a psychological standpoint, he understands that his desire to be brought down and ridiculed is born from some sort of childhood trauma that DEFINITELY involves his father, but he just can’t help himself from getting so ridiculously turned on when you call him a dog for humping your leg while you try to sleep. Bonus points if you use his title while you do it: “Just like a little bitch in heat, aren’t you, Doctor Kreizler? You’re so aroused, you can hardly handle yourself. Are you too dumb to touch your own cock? Do you need me to do it? Oh, Doctor, what a dumb little thing you are.”

E = Experience.

Even Daniel himself has said that Laszlo has like NO experience. Laszlo got ZERO bitches (which I find hard to believe but ok whatever you say, writers of The Alienist), so, the first time y’all have sex, he’s more likely than not losing his virginity (let’s not get into the debate of “virginity is a social construct” because a.) IT IS and b.) Laszlo would lecture for hours about this). HOWEVER, these things come naturally to him. He is just Good In Bed. He figures it out very quickly, so, while you make fun of him for going a little stupid when he’s aroused, he makes up for it by bruising your cervix and apologizing later.

F = Favourite Positions.

Laszlo loves that soft, slow, kissy sex, so he’s into whatever position makes it possible for him to be inside you and to kiss you at the same time. Missionary is a go to, but sometimes he’ll have you sit on his desk and kiss your neck as he hikes your skirts up and fucks you all slow and nice.

G = Goofy.

Hardly ever? Laszlo is pretty serious most of the time, and the only time we ever see him Not Serious in the show is when he’s wasted after John’s bachelor party in season 2. So, maybe y’all went to dinner at Delmonico’s, then a ball for members of high society, and he had a little too much champagne and schnapps. He’s not like giggling and all, but his cheeks are red and he’s smiling more than usual, and calling you sweet names “Oh, mein Kätzchen” and “Meine kleine Prinzessin”. That’s Laszlo’s version of goofy.

H = Hair.

OK, my train of thought here is: LOOK AT THIS MAN’S BEARD. HIS BEARD IS NICE AS SHIT. If he treats his facial hair that good— regular trims, the beard oils we all know he uses, even if it isn't strictly canon— then his downstairs hair is nice too. Definitely soft, if maybe a little wiry sometimes (but tbh whose isn’t), and it’s a nice little cropping at the base of his cock. He also has a thin happy trail up his soft tummy, and a good amount on his chest (as we see in the show lol that much is canon).

I = Intimacy.

Laszlo is ALL ABOUT intimacy. You’ll know he’s in a ~mood~ because you’ll ask what’s being served at Delmonico’s that night, and Laszlo is like “I thought we might stay in tonight. John gave me his grandmother’s recipe for chicken soup”. He’ll light candles and pour you wine and play nice music on his gramophone, and he’ll romance you throughout dinner with little hand touches and sly smiles, until he’s kneeling in front of you and slowly kissing up your leg.

J = Jack-Off.

Honestly, he hardly does it. Of course, I’m sure he did it A LOT before he met you, but now he doesn’t need to pleasure himself anymore. He’s got you to do that. The only exception is if he has to travel for work and you can’t go with him. Even then, he’ll hold off until he absolutely can’t stand it, and then he’ll like read a letter you sent him or look at a sketch that John did of you while he whacks off; sometimes, he’ll just hold your letter to his face, and the faint trace of your perfume is enough to do the job.

K = Kink.

He likes impact play a lot (and perhaps a little roleplay wrapped up in it). On the rare occasion that his fucking is anything but soft and lovely, he’s gonna be hitting your ass and the backs of your thighs as you cling to him while he rails you stupid. Laszlo would try to hit your cheek, but he feels too bad when you wince at the pain of it. Spanking your tits is good to him too. His favorite though (and here’s where the roleplay comes in), is caning your ass. He’ll bend you over the desk in his home office and pull your skirts up past your hips, and he’ll make you count the amount of times his thick wooden cane connects with your soft asscheeks. The roleplay is, more often than not, you were his assistant who did something wrong and needed to be punished. If you miss one or forget to thank him accordingly “Thank you, sir”, he’ll focus the next hit on your thighs.

L = Location.

Either the bed or his desk. Laszlo is a little older (I don’t think we ever get an explicit age? But if we say he’s the same age as Daniel, then he’s 40 to 42-ish) so he can’t do it against a wall or anywhere too crazy (not to mention his right arm can hardly support much weight, so if he needs to hold you up, it’s probably not gonna happen). The bed is a special time for you two because of his arm; he’ll hold himself up with his left arm and rest his hand on your hip or wherever to give himself at least a little leverage. But the desk is usually easier because you can sit, or you can bend over and he can grab your hip.

M = Motivation.

He loves you and wants to worship you. It’s truly as simple as that. He loves you and thinks that you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen, and he wants to show his reverence for you by making love to you.

N = No.

He can’t get into the role of “daddy”, nor can he call you “mommy”. Childhood trauma aside, he will be goddamned if Sigmund fucking Freud is correct about his bullshit Oedipus complex or whatever, so he just eliminates that whole thing entirely.

O = Oral.

He’s very good at it. He’s just… His lips are soft and his beard is good, and he’s not afraid to get a little messy with it. He’ll eat you out until he absolutely has to come up for air, and he’ll have a little bit of your wetness clinging to his mustache, but then he’s right back in it. His medical degree is also put to good use here because he remembers his female anatomy and he’s locked onto your clit the entire time. The first time you ever squirted, it was because Laszlo was nipping at your clit and sucking your wet little hole and pressing his thick fingers into you, and it was A Lot To Process, but you squirted and Laszlo came in his pants instantly because he’s like “I didn’t think women could actually do that… I thought that was a thing that penny novels made up”

P = Pace.

Again, he’s a little older, so he doesn’t fuck like some wild boy. He takes his time with you, touching you and caressing you and kissing you, and his pace is the same way. He’s slow and gentle, but has the capacity to go faster and harder if you ask for it.

Q = Quickie.

Hates them. Never. Never ever ever. If he can’t properly romance you and take his time with you, then what’s the point??

R = Risk.

Surprisingly, Laszlo is a little schemer, and he loves running a risk. He’s already looked down upon by other society members, so what’s the harm in squeezing your ass at a party? PERHAPS it’s inappropriate to get caught in a dark corner with your hand down his trousers and him kissing your neck, but it’s easy to blame it on the alcohol.

S = Stamina.

Once more, he is firmly middle aged, so he can do one round— maybe two, if he’s feeling particularly frisky. Usually, though, one is more than enough for both of you.

T = Toy.

HAVE YALL SEEN SEX TOYS FROM THE 1890S?? SHITS ARE SCARY. Laszlo does not like toys, but he understands their need for existing, so he may not like them but he tolerates them. That being said, he likes to watch you use them. LIke, he’ll sit in a chair by the bed and request you “put on a good show”, and he’ll watch you fall apart, and he’ll only come and touch you if you beg and plead for him to.

U = Unfair.

Mhm, so, in Laszlo’s mind, sex and pleasure are not just a give and take, it’s a two way street. They can (and often need to) coexist. He doesn’t like to initiate something if you won’t be able to reciprocate, so he’s not too into teasing or things. At the aforementioned parties, he’ll only goose your ass if he knows you’re 100% down for it.

V = Volume.

He’s fairly quiet. His mouth is usually really close to your ear, and you’re the only one who gets to hear his pretty little noises. The loudest he’ll be is when he’s come home after traveling and it’s felt like ages since he’s made love to you, he’s gonna come inside you, and his little gasp and moan are louder than usual.

W = Wild Card.

He is down to be tied up. He doesn’t like to tie you up, but if he’s the one being restrained, he’s all over it. It’s nothing too intense, just using a ribbon for your hair to tie his left hand to the headboard, not super tight but enough to make his fingers a little tingly, but he loves it. He loves the switch of the dynamic, how he’s fully at your mercy and you can use him however you please; usually, you just suck him off and ride him, but the endless possibilities get him hard as soon as you pull out the ribbon.

X = X-Ray.

Laszlo has Big Dick Energy, so he has to have a big dick. The best example of this sort of energy is in the very first episode after he goes and interviews Wolf, and comes to speak to Teddy, and Teddy is like “you interviewed the suspect? On whose authority??” and laszlo is like “Mine” like OH HIS DICK IS BIG I KNOW IT. He’s got an above average length and girth, but we know our man likes to eat, so some of his weight goes to his dick, so it’s like,,, He’s got a fat cock, sorry, I don’t make the rules

Y = Yearning.

Constantly. Neverending. He’s at work and he’ll catch a glimpse of a pastel drawing that you commissioned from John for Laszlo’s birthday that sits in a frame on his desk, and his heart starts to hurt from missing you. When he comes home, he’ll embrace you and kiss you like he hasn’t seen you in years, and he’ll want to hear all about your day. You have your doctor so whipped for you, and it’s a different kind of whipped than being pussy whipped. He’s, like, feelings whipped.

Z = ZZZ.

He’s a sleepy little baby after you guys finish. His eyes will be a little heavy and sticky as he’s cleaning up and caring for you (and you definitely coo at him “Oh, Las, you’re so sleepy!”) but when you’re both back in bed, our little man is circling his arm around your waist and nuzzling his cheek into your shoulder. He’s so soft and affectionate, and he’s out like a light when you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him.

[astaroth1357]

How the Brothers Would Try to Corrupt MC w/ Their Sin

I have a headcanon that it's part of demonic nature to try and corrupt humans. Though I think it would be unlikely that the brothers would try to intentionally corrupt MC post-pact, it's still like second nature to them. That means they may try to unintentionally, uh… infect their soul with sin and drag them down into eternal damnation! They don't mean it, but be careful MCs of the world.

Lucifer

One of the hardest things to do can be to make others take pride in themselves… but Lucifer is always ready for a challenge.

The name of the game is praise. The human mind can be easy to manipulate so with enough praise even the most stubborn human will start to believe a drop of their own hype.

Building up pride is a steady thing... He'll usually pick a strength or talent of the MC to give high praise. Perhaps they sing beautifully or they're rather clever, don't worry. He'd let them know.

Light sprinkles of praise steadily increase their self-esteem, which may seem nice and almost healthy at first, but in truth he's laying a trap… He knows how effective his words can be and he's just waiting for them to go to the MC's head.

You think then he would be done right? Oh no. That's not the fun part. What's fun is to then offend that pride he's spent so long building.

He thinks it's cute, really. A small comment here or a little condensation there and they'll get so mad. It's just so amusing!

Of course, he can't take what he dishes, so they'll need to watch out. But don't worry he loves them, even if they're just a little too fun to play with…

Mammon

Since when does the Avatar of Greed give gifts?

Really, that should be the MC's first red flag. Mammon isn't known for generosity, so when he's spending what little money he can hold onto on them, it's time to raise some eyebrows.

It may seem nice, almost sweet, when he manages to track down a rare vintage of wine for them or take them out to a ritzy restaurant for the night but unfortunately it's all just part of the plan…

Nobody has tastes higher than Mammon. He can't afford them most of the time, which leads to compromises, but given all the Grim in the world he'd be living in the lap of luxury - which is exactly the kind of lifestyle he wants the MC to crave too.

Anyone, no matter how modest, can give into temptation. How easy would it be to taste the sweetest wine or enjoy the most wonderful trip then want to do it again? It may seem innocent at first, but piling on the finer things can soon have the MC craving for them when they pass.

Then all Mammon needs is to make little promises, "If I make it big this time, then we'll go to France!" or, "If I win this next hand then I'll buy ya another glass." 

So how many times will the MC give Mammon a pass, then? Will they stop questioning how he comes up with his cash? Will they let him gamble just that "little bit" longer? Will they even join him...?

If they keep getting that taste of luxury, then maybe it's not so bad… right?

Leviathan 

You think the easiest way to get the MC jealous would be to flirt with other people since that's how most people go about it but, uh… 

This is Levi we're talking about. Casual flirting is pretty much out of the question.

So what is a demon to do to get their hapless human jealous? The answer is, be patient.

No one's perfect, humans especially! They'll slip up eventually… 

Maybe someone from back home just got a new car or they're sending out marriage invites. 

Maybe they have a friend who's better than them at school or sports or there's just someone who has something they want: Money, talent, looks, followers, friends, you name it. When they see it, he can feel that envy creeping in…

From there, all he has to do is feed it. Let the world poke at their little insecurities for him while he plays the supportive boyfriend!

"Did Mammon really get the promotion? I thought it would have been you! That's so unfair..."

"Satan beat your scores again? What is this, the third time? Doesn't that suck?"

Small little comments… but all with a goal to fill the MC with toxicity...

"Are Asmo videos still doing better than yours? I think I know how to drop his numbers... if you want."

And soon enough, anyone can be an enemy. Everyone has it better than them… so they push the world away in order to feel better. And they become so toxic, the world rejects them in turn...

Except, of course, for their loving boyfriend, Levi.

Satan

If you want to keep someone mad, it's best if you're not the actual one doing it.

I know, it sounds counterintuitive, but turning yourself into the enemy risks the target cutting you out. Satan knows this, so he'll never enrage the MC directly...

But indirectly? There's a start.

Everybody has little pet peevs. Tiny things that aren't important, but dig under the skin nonetheless.

Breadcrumbs in the butter, gum-smacking, toe-tapping, tones of voice, or just little annoying inconveniences that can sour one's day...

Satan is well-versed in these tiny annoyances, he'd dare say they're in his domain. And, perspective that he is, he'll know what frustrates the MC soon enough.

Then it's just a matter of execution.

Maybe he jacks with their toothpaste tube or "conveniently" forgets where they put their books... Or they keep mysteriously finding fingerprints on their game disks or seemingly can't keep their room organized to save their life!

It may just seem like the world hates them... but really it's just their demonic lover.

These tiny details and little mishaps will just build and build like cracks in their foundation until it all breaks and comes crashing down… and he'll be right there egging on every moment of it!

Asmodeus 

You would think that Asmo would have the easiest time tempting the MC into his sin, but that's not so.

Sure, most traditional definitions of Lust begin and end at carnal desire, but what about those MCs who maybe aren't so drawn to the sins of the flesh? Fear not! Because the keyword for Asmo is desire.

Really, Asmo is happy if the MC's mind is full of nothing but him. He wants them to desire him, to love him obviously, but to the point of obsession. His heated kisses and sensual whispers are only means to that end, which can change whenever he needs.

The MC will have their life bombarded by their beautiful demon. It's not an unwelcome smothering, he's among the best boyfriends they could ever hope to have, which is exactly why he’s so effective!

He wants them to need him at every moment. Soon it will feel weird to go places alone without their demon… Certain things they could do themselves, like their hair or getting dressed, they'll want him to do instead.

Of course, if he's able then he'll certainly seduce them as well and at every chance he gets! From the House to RAD and even in the throne room - he's shameless!... But that's the fun, isn't it?

Beelzebub 

Oh Beel… He's probably the most dangerous one of them all. Not because he's so demonic, but because he's so sweet!

When Beel makes food for the MC or orders them an extra side, he does so with love. He just wants them to be full! ...or so he thinks.

Beel's demonic instincts creep up on even him, he's just not one to really question what or why he does things sometimes. He'll know he has the urge to see the MC eat or just be indulgent… but he won’t know why.

You could actually say it works to his advantage. Whenever he offers the MC another turkey leg or a few more bites of cake, his tenderhearted insistence is often so sweet that they'll just go along with it and try to keep eating… even if they're already full.

Now, the human body can only take so much food at once, but over time it can adapt to changing habits.

Eventually, the MC will find their appetite expanding to catch up… They'll stop feeling full as easily as they used to and soon the bigger portions that Beel gives them will be all but a necessity!

Of course, the worst case scenario is that this doesn't happen at all and they do serious harm to their health by always pushing past their limits… but there's no guarantee Beel's solution won't just be more food anyway.

Belphegor 

Belphie is the only brother who will knowingly (and gleefully) try to make the MC as sinful as he is!

It's all for selfish reasons. If the MC is slothful, then they'll want to go out less and (probably) spend time with him more. Win-win if you're Belphie.

Since he's well aware of what he's doing, he's pretty damn effective at it. No other brother will be as committed to meddling with the MC as he is.

He'll convince them to cancel plans or sabotage their alarms so they oversleep. He'll suddenly be unable to sleep without them while his naps seemingly get longer and longer… And if they have something to do, he'll be the voice in their ear saying it can wait!

Really, at any opportunity he can get Belphie will try to drag them down or slow their progress with the sweet, sweet promise of relaxation or a good time...

Sure, it may sound nice at the time - great even! - but it won't take long for their promises to break or deadlines to pile up… Sure, the MC could try to catch up but wouldn't that be too much work? Wouldn't they rather rest instead? Why even worry about it?

It's a seductive line of thought and Belphie sells it well, it'd take only the most motivated MC to resist his charms but like that'd stop him. If he wants the MC for himself, he'll happily put their life on hold to do so. Just go with it... yeah?

[quindolyn]

Could you do a marauders x reader fluff?? Like a poly relationship and it’s like Valentine’s Day or sumthing love ur writing <3

Armfuls of Sunshine || Poly!Marauders

Word Count: 2365

A/N: It’s not really valentines day in the fic or any holiday like that, it’s just that swim weather is setting in for me and I want a lazy day at the lake with the boys so this is completely self indulgent. I know I haven’t been writing a lot I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed and I wish I could say that this is a sign that my life is mellowing out but I’m afraid that it is actually to the contrary. In summary, don’t get your hopes up

Warnings: hastily written, tired while written, fem reader, kisses, lake day so reader is wearing a swimsuit, mentions of Remus’ body image issues and allusions to Sirius’ past abuse from his parents

Masterlist

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back to rest against Sirius’ shoulder who sat behind you with you between his legs. Sitting by the Black Lake he was shirtless, you adorned only in a modest two piece swimsuit leaving the skin of your belly exposed so that Sirius could trace shapes along the soft skin. With your back pressed to his chest and the sun’s rays hitting your front you were surrounded by warmth, like a nice little cocoon you were tucked into. 

With your head against his shoulder you left the side of your neck open, vulnerable, allowing him to drip down wordlessly and brush his lips over the delicate skin before finding your sweet spot on the back of your neck and nipping lightly, his hands moving to grip your hips so you couldn’t squirm out of the hold he had on you.

“Siri!” You giggled, feeling Sirius grin into the side of your neck, getting just the reaction out of you that he had wanted.

“Shhh Puppy,” He whispered condescendingly in your ear, “Gotta be quiet, can’t wake up Jamie,” He nodded his head over to your right where just mere inches from you laid the slumbering boy, all messy black curls, hazel eyes, and with a physique that had you weak in the knees every time you saw him.

Currently his back was on display for you as he laid on his stomach, his hands resting beneath his forehead acting as a pillow, you admired the way the sunlight illuminated his skin and you could see the muscles subtly shift under that skin as he breathed deeply in his sleep.

Watching him, you became aware of just how hot the sun had gotten in the hour or so the three of you had been lounging out there, waiting for Remus to finish up his prefect duties so that the four of you could go cool off in the water together. 

“We should wake him up, Siri,” You voiced, lifting yourself slightly from his lap in attempts to wake up James but quickly strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you back down to the spot between his muscled thighs.

“Oh come on baby, you don’t wanna do that, you know how grumpy the baby gets when you wake him up from a nap,” He murmured this mockingly into your neck, hoping that the boy he spoke of wouldn’t be able to hear him but as James let out a disgruntled groan and began to fidget you knew he was waking up.

Ignoring Sirius’ snarky remark, you leaned forward once more, this time Sirius’ hands just keeping a steady hold on your hips while making no effort to pull you back.

“Hey baby,” You crooned, supporting your weight on one hand pressed firmly to the ground while the other moved to bury itself deep in James’ locks, scratching with your nails the way you know he liked on his scalp, smiling at the content grunt the boy let out at your ministrations.

Gazing down at him you let your eyes scan his back once more, frowning as you noticed the slight pink tinge beginning to taint his skin, a precursor to what could be a wicked sunburn if not properly prevented. Letting your hand slip from his scalp you ran it down his neck and down his back, he was warmer than he should’ve been, it wasn’t just ‘laying in the sun’ kinda warm it was ‘beginning to fry’ kinda hot.

“Jamie,” You muttered again, louder this time so that you might be able to get more of his attention, “Jamie, wake up.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed, turning onto his side so that he was facing you, eyes slowly blinking open, squinting as they were flooded with the harsh light of the warm sun. He scooched himself so that he was still lying on his side but so that his head was resting against the hard planes of Sirius’ thigh, nuzzling into the soft skin half covered by his swim shorts which stopped at his mid thigh.

“You’re starting to get sunburned Jamie, can’t have our pretty boy getting hurt,” You explained to him the reason for your disturbance, returning your hand to his hair as he inched up the material of Sirius’ shorts to press kisses to his leg.

You felt Sirius shiver from behind you at the contact of James’ pretty lips on some of his most sensitive skin and you found his hand, interlacing your fingers to give him a squeeze.

“But the sun feels good,” James countered between kisses pressed to Sirius’ leg, not going higher or lower, just dancing around the circumference, tracing where the bottom of the shorts would usually sit.

“I know it does,” You agreed, gazing down at one of your three beautiful boys, “But how about you lay on your back for a little bit, let your tummy get some sun and then we’ll put on more sunscreen and hopefully by that time we’re done Rem will be done and we can go in the water.”

“Hmph,” James looked up at you, he was positioned in such a way that sunlight danced through his hazel irises, making him appear even more ethereal than usual, his tan skin glowing in the mid afternoon sun. He was the picture of effortless beauty.

It was unfair how easily the boy tanned, it was something Sirius in particular was envious of but as he positioned himself so that his lips were pressed to the shell of your ear, “He’s gorgeous isn’t he?” 

“Breathtaking,” You nodded, only breaking your eyes away from James’ face when his eyes flitted back down to the thigh he used as a pillow, resuming his dusting of feather light kisses. “Just as breathtaking as you are,” Twisting your neck you were nose to nose with Sirius, pale skin stretched across his angular features shimmered beautifully in the sun, like someone had dusted glitter along his skin in his sleep making him look almost god like.

Your eyes flickered from his unnaturally ruby red lips to his grey eyes where you noticed a smear of black makeup beginning at the corner of his eye. You lifted your hand to your mouth, licking the pad of your thumb, before extending out from the corner of the boy’s eye where his eyeliner from earlier was smudged against his porcelain skin. 

Allowing his eyes to flutter closed Sirius leaned into your touch and you felt your heart swell, there had been a point during your relationship with the three men where you reaching for his face would’ve caused him to flinch and back away, and even if your hand had somehow managed to make it to his face he would’ve sat there awkwardly and rigid until you pulled away. 

But this comfort was a demonstration of the trust that had formed, not just between the two of you but all four of you, even if one member was absent at the moment.

“There we go,” You murmured, pulling your hand back to your lap, though Sirius followed it, not wanting to break contact with you until the las possible second.

“Better now?”

“Much.”

Casting your gaze back down at the near comatose form of one of your other boyfriends you frowned as James had still yet to shift so that his back wasn’t exposed to the sun.

Though Sirius pretended not to care as much as you he too noticed the pinkish tint James’ skin was starting to take on. Resting one of his hands, stronger than yours, on James' face he began rubbing small circles on his cheek, occasionally running his fingers through the other boy’s hair to keep it out of his way.

“She’s right Jamesie,” His low baritone sounded, “Don’t need you with a sunburn so roll over for us, can put your head right back in my lap, just want you to be okay.”

“But m’comfy,” The other boy protested into Sirius’ thigh, saliva spilling out onto the hard canvas of muscle.

Knowing that if James wasn’t going to listen to you or Sirius there was one person whose opinion would matter you spoke, “Can’t have Remmy worrying about you Jamie,” You implored gently, “We’re out here to help him relax,” 

You were right, with the full moon in a matter of days Remus had been high strung, constantly fidgeting, lost in his head, spacing out during class while also hyper fixating on the most minute of details. The boy was a tightly wound mess and desperately just needed a relaxing afternoon with his three favorite people. 

If he even had an inkling that one of you was anything other than completely fine he would focus all of his energy in on that, forgetting the real reason you were supposed to be out there together.

It was those words that seemed to reach James and had him turning over onto his back so that the back of his head was now cradled in his hands which were interlocked and resting upon Sirius’ thigh, his strong, muscled legs kicked out underneath him, his ankles crossed.

You allowed your eyes to run up and down James’ impressive form, thighs just as beautiful, but more defined that Sirius’ but hidden behind a pair of coral swim trunks. His abs were without a doubt the most defined out of all four of you, like his thighs this part of his physique could be attributed to countless hours on the Quidditch pitch, training him and his team ruthlessly, pushing every physical boundary. It had obviously paid off as the strong muscles of his biceps and triceps flexed as he had his arms positioned to prop his head up.

Flicking your glance behind you you noticed that Sirius was appreciating the view just as much as you were, and who could really blame you? James was gorgeous, and he was all yours just as the stunnig boy behind you was.

Once again pushing yourself out of Sirius’ lap you used your hands to stabilize your body on the ground, your palms pressed flat against the soft material of the towel that was laid out underneath you so that your face was mere inches above James. You didn’t even bother waiting for him to close his eyes before you were melding your lips with his, closing your eyes in contentment as you felt his lips fall open for yours, his tongue peeking out to trace your soft cushions.

Reaching a hand up to cup your jaw James used it to pull your face down closer towards his. You released a muffled “umph” as you were forced to drop from your hands to your forearms to support yourself comfortably and James gently took your bottom lip between his teeth, nipping gently as he deepened the kiss.

Before you could reciprocate, matching his passion, there were another pair of strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you away from James’ lips and out of Sirius’ lap. 

You let out a high pitched shriek at the sudden, unexpected motion and with what appeared to be minimal effort the hold on you shifted from your waist to supporting you under the bend of your knees and the small of your back.

Not being alarmed as the deep laughter that erupted from the figure was not only familiar but reassuring, you rested your head against Remus’ chest, having recognized him instantly. Inhaling deeply the scent of the thin t-shirt he’d thrown on before making his way down to the lake after finishing his prefect duties you knew that it was no doubt either Sirius’ or James’ as the three boys rarely ever wore their own shirts, always preferring each other’s.

“Hi Rem,” You smiled, gazing up at his visage from your place in his arms, you squinted because his head was positioned directly in front of the sun, making it look like there was a brilliant halo glowing around him.

“Hi baby, I missed you,” He cooed down at you, pressing a sweet and simple peck to your puckered lips before rising back up to his full height, still cradling you in his arms.

“You can put me down now Remmy,” You giggled, not satisfied with the brief kiss he’d given you, you clasped his jaw similarly to the way James had yours to bring his lips back down to yours. 

But once again, much to your chagrin, he kept the kiss short, no matter the firm hand you kept on his jaw, perhaps even shorter than the last once before pulling away and setting you down softly on the ground, taking great care to ensure you were balanced before letting go of his hold on you.

“Neither of those were real kisses,” You complained, resting your hand against his chest, your head at a near ninety degree angle to look up at the male who towered over you.

“No?” He asked teasingly.

Rising to the bait you answered, “No.”

“Don’t whine baby,” Sirius chimed in from where he laid, still lounging upon the ground, “Remmy’s had a very exhausting day (Y/N), can’t blame him if his kissing isn’t what it usually is.” 

Pushing himself up off the ground Sirius sauntered over to where you and Rem stood, making a show as he carelessly flinging his arms around Remus’ neck.

“Now come on Remus,” He ordered with a false arrogance, “Carry me to the water!” Letting his head fall back dramatically he stood there expectantly but was met only with Remus’ light laughter as he ducked out from under the smaller boy’s arms. 

“I don’t think so Pads,” Remus said as pulled off his shirt, you grinned at the seemingly unimportant action but just as Sirius trusting you to touch him made your heart soar so did this. Remus proudly and carelessly displaying all of the beautiful scars that decorated his chest made you so proud of the progress the four of you had all made together.

“Get Jamie to carry you,” Once again lifting you into his arms Remus pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Already got my arms full.” 

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @miraclesoflove @priii @wholebigboxofyikes @advictedtohim @gubleryum @temporaryissue @emmaev @zzzfour @itsmentalillness

[wonderful-writes]

Presume

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom thinks you’re too pretty to be any good at academics. You can imagine his shock when he’s proven wrong.

Word Count: 2k (2,097)

Author’s Note: The idea for this fic was given to me by @bellaswansrealgf. It was such a fun topic to write, so thank you so much bae for coming up with the idea! I’ll definitely be using more of your suggestions in the future.

Tom Riddle found himself becoming increasingly irritated. How could Professor Slughorn possibly expect him to work with a partner? What kind of fool did Slughorn think he was? Tom was perfectly capable of completing his project himself, and it was rather insulting for his professor to assign someone to help him. And not just anyone. Slughorn had assigned you.

You, the pretty girl, were in no capacity an ideal partner. You were friendly and charming and surely too bubble-headed to know a thing about potions. You were probably irritating and selfish and vain, too. Tom would have rather been partnered up with the clown from Gryffindor than with you.

“Tom, right?” you asked as you took a seat next to him. You were dressed in neat robes and had nicely styled hair. You probably spent all morning on it.

“Yes,” he replied curtly without so much as a glance your way. He began flipping his textbook to the desired page and scanning it with his eyes.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced.

Tom ignored you as he continued to read the page.

“So, what kind of potion do you think we should make?” you asked him, opening your own book.

Once again, Tom didn’t bother to look up or respond.

“Hello?” you tried again.

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Listen, I know potions is probably not your area of expertise, so it’s best if you just sit there and let me work.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, surprised at how this stranger could claim to already know you without having ever spoken to you. “How would you know if I’m not good at potions?”

Tom scoffed. “If you haven’t noticed, you don’t exactly look like you’d be much of an academic.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned, starting to get offended.

“Well, I’m the best in the class,” Tom said like it was the most natural thing to come out of his mouth. “Professor Slughorn probably sent you here so that I could babysit you. You can’t be any good if you need me as a mentor.”

“I don’t need you as a mentor,” you told him. “Professor Slughorn wanted us to work together for this assignment.”

“Like I said,” he replied, turning back to his book, “maybe you should let me handle the assignment.”

You were beyond aggravated. How could someone who barely knows you make such assumptions about you? You were more than adept in potions, and it was unfair of him to shut you down without letting you prove your skills.

“You realize this assignment is worth 25% of our grade, don’t you?” you asked him as you crossed your arms.

 “Precisely,” he answered. “Which is why I won’t let you mess it up.”

You had never met a more arrogant person.

“If you’re going to be this way,” you declared, “I’ll just ask Slughorn if I can work alone. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience the great Tom Riddle.”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief as you packed your belongings and walked away. You were attractive, sure, but you were also annoying. He was glad to be rid of anyone who didn’t let him take charge.

Slughorn allowed the two of you to work separately. To Tom’s approval, you set up your station far away from his. He almost pitied you. It couldn’t be easy for someone like you to complete an entire project by yourself. People like you only cared about their appearances or what the latest gossip was. There was no way you could make any of the complicated potions on the list of options for the assignment without help.

~

By the end of the week, Slughorn had finished grading the students’ potions and their accompanying essays. Tom, ever so confident in his abilities, was shocked when he didn’t receive a perfect score.

“What did I do wrong, Professor?” he asked after class had been dismissed. “I could have sworn I didn’t miss anything.”

“You forgot to crush the bay leaves before you put them in,” Slughorn explained. “But not to worry, my boy. You chose a highly complex concoction. It is almost guaranteed that any student who attempts to recreate it will forget at the very least one step.”

“Did anyone else choose that potion?” Tom wondered.

Slughorn nodded with a twinkle in his eye.

“And did anyone get it right?” Tom asked. He was doubtful that anyone in the class could have succeeded at something he failed to perfect, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“That’s for me to know, my boy,” the teacher answered. Seeing the frustrated look on Tom’s face, he chuckled and added, “Just know that you shouldn’t judge your partners so prematurely.”

Tom spent the majority of the night ruminating on Slughorn’s words. Could it be that you were the student who had gotten the perfect score on the potion he had attempted? He refused to believe it. Slughorn must have been referring to another student, one that Tom was paired with in the past. You couldn’t possibly be the partner in question.

~

It had been weeks since Tom came in second for the first time in his life. He convinced himself that it couldn’t have been you who bested him. Of course, he speculated who the true victor could be, but he couldn’t put his finger on who in the class could be worthy of such high marks.

Eventually, the time came for the annual examination preparation. Professor Slughorn’s students were assigned a series of practice exams to help them prepare for the actual ones. Each practice test focused on a different area within potions, and it was the students’ job to be well-versed in all of them.

At the beginning of every week, a new practice exam was passed out, and the grades for the previous week’s exam was posted on a roster at the front of the class.

Tom never bothered with making a show of checking his grades, knowing fully well that he would always be at the head of the class. But with the newfound knowledge of a possible competitor, he couldn’t quell his curiosity.

Making his way to the front of the room with the usual throng of Slytherin boys, he displayed no sign of concern. Why should the best in the year have to worry about some halfwit who ran into a bit of luck one time?

His air of indifference was quickly squashed, however, when he approached the posted practice exam scores and saw that his was the second highest. Second? That couldn’t be right. Tom Riddle never came in second. Who was first? Who could feasibly best Tom Riddle at a potions examination? The most brilliant student in all of Hogwarts, and in his best subject too?

He was horrified beyond comparison when he saw none other than your name at the pinnacle of the score sheet.

You.

Impossible. There was no chance that the bubbly girl with the face of an angel, er, a moron, could ever have received such excellent marks.

He’d seen you around, and you were most definitely not the kind of girl who cared about your performance in school. You were always smiling with your friends or tucking your hair behind your ear or dazzling a crowd with an extraordinary story. When you weren’t smoothing down your clothes or checking your made-up face, you were befriending the professors, something only stupid people needed to do.

So how could you have gotten a higher score than him? There must have been a mistake. He would have to ask Slughorn about it after class.

As he walked back to his seat, he glanced at where you were positioned, a table not too far from his own. You had already started on your assignment for the day, making quick work of the cutting and crushing of ingredients. Sure enough, you were dripping with the grace and beauty of someone who most likely didn’t know the difference between reed and foxtail.

How could one possibly be proficient in any academic subject when they looked like that? You probably spent more time shining your shoes than studying for exams. Then how did you beat him, and twice?

He watched you work for the remainder of the period. To his surprise, you were doing everything correctly. You never added a drop too much or a sprig too little. You stirred with precision and knew what color to look for in the brew. You seemed to know exactly what you were doing. Were you truly more intelligent than he had originally presumed?

Still unconvinced, he approached Professor Slughorn after dismissal to question the scores from the most recent exam.

Slughorn only sent him a mysterious look before answering, “Everything is as it should.”

-

After the third week of coming in second place, Tom decided that it was enough. It was time he put his troubles to rest and find out for himself what sort of witchcraft was in play.

“Are you cheating?” he abruptly asked you the moment you took your seat. Professor Slughorn was not yet in class, giving the students ample time to converse before lessons began.

Startled, you stared back at him. “What?”

“You must be receiving help on your practice exams or at the very least borrowing notes from someone,” he stated matter-of-factly. “So tell me. Who is it?”

You had had enough of this arrogant git’s behavior. “What makes you think I need help? Is it so hard to believe that you are not the only person in this room who can do well in school?”

“Well I- you see, you’re not exactly the sort to put much thought to academics,” he defended.

“And what sort is that?” you questioned.

“You know, the vain, pretty lot,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’d imagine you spend more time on your appearance than on your academics.”

You gaped at the boy before you. “You think I’m pretty? And before you go on, my appearance has nothing to do with my drive to excel in scholarly affairs. I’ll have you know I’m more than capable of receiving just as good of marks as you are, despite what you think.”

“Then work with me on today’s partner project,” he challenged.

“Excuse me?” The last thing you were expecting was for the high-and-mighty Tom Riddle to want anything to do with you after his blatant rudeness.

“If you’re truly as good as you say—”

“You mean as good as the scores prove,” you cut in.

Tom rolled his eyes. “If you’re really that good, show me. Demonstrate your skills on today’s potion, and I’ll believe you.”

So the two of you spent the class working together on the assigned potion. Tom made sure to stand back so that you could have the freedom to do things on your own, silently hoping that you would make a mistake. But you didn’t.

Your potion was perfect. There was not an herb out of place or a drop not potent enough. Everything was as it should.

You had clearly proven to Tom that you were a skilled student, worthy of his second glance. You only hoped that the self-righteous twat would realize not to judge people before knowing them.

“While I hate to admit my own shortcomings, you were right,” Tom conceded.

You smiled at his admittance. “Thanks, Tom. I’m glad you learned something from this experience.”

He had expected to feel more disdain at the fact that he had finally found his match. He was waiting for annoyance, jealousy, some spark of rage at being second-best. But all he felt was a strange sensation.

You were quite honestly brilliant, and he couldn’t remember a time when he genuinely thought that about a fellow student. You were quick-witted, sharp-tongued, and unafraid to back down from a challenge. You stood up to him despite barely knowing anything about him, other than that he was a royal pain to you. And, not to mention, you were quite a sight to behold.

It was no secret that Tom kept to himself more often than not. Sure, he had a group of peers who respected him — whether out of fear or genuine liking is up for debate — but he never got to know anyone on a personal level. He never let anyone get too close or see him for someone other than the shining pupil with big plans. But, for once, he wanted someone to share his genius with.

He intended to make you that person.

—

Part 2

[diaphragmjellyfish]

Robby NSFW Alphabet

not my gif

A: Aftercare

Robby’s aftercare is ON POINT. He’s a huge cuddler and loves to have the chance to take care of someone who really appreciates it and takes care of him in return. He will get a soft, damp cloth and clean you off before pulling you onto his chest and wrapping you both up in tons of blankets. He likes to pet your hair while you fall asleep, and hold you so that no one can hurt you while you’re in such a vulnerable state. He knows, realistically, that no one is gonna jump out of the closet and attack you, but it makes him feel needed. 

B: Body Part

His favorite body part of yours is your hands. He loves holding them up next to his and comparing, he loves holding your hand, and he loves when your hand is wrapped around his cock while y’all are in private. He can’t help but look at your left hand and picture a pretty ring on that finger, imagining the beautiful future he wants to have with you. His favorite body part of his is his butt. The boy works out, and he knows how much you like it. He honestly never noticed his butt before, whether it was nice or not, until you started pointing it out, and now he walks around in leggings just to get your attention!

C: Cum

He likes to cum in your mouth. Blowjobs make him feel like he’s in heaven, and when you swallow, it makes Robby feel like you’re accepting him and worshipping him like no one ever has before. He also likes to finish inside you (wrap it up) because of how intimate it is. Not part of the prompt, but he loves to make you sit on his face and cum all over his mouth, dirty boy. 

D: Dirty Secret

Robby has always wanted to try more public sex. The thought of getting caught riles him to no end, and he gets so turned on by the idea of holding his hand over your mouth in a janitor’s closet so people walking past don’t hear your moans. If you wanted to try it, y’all would start small, like your backyard, and work your way up, but if you weren;t into it, that’s fine with him too. 

E: Experience

He’s decently experienced. Robby had a one night stand or two before he met Mr. Larusso, when he hung out with those hooligans, but it never meant anything. With you, it’s his first time doing it with feelings involved, and he was blown away by how much better it was that way. He was experienced enough to not bust in T-2 minutes, but he still had a lot to learn about taking his time and making sure you both enjoyed it. With the other girls, it was always about doing it to impress his friends so he never thought much about how it felt, for him or her. You have to teach him that porn isn’t realistic, and that it takes time to feel good. He’s a fast learner though. 

F: Favorite Position

He loves a good 69, lying down or standing ;) bc he’s strong like that. He also likes taking you from behind while he holds you up against him by your neck, and his other hand playing with your nipples or clit. Add a mirror, and you have the hottest sex either of you had ever had. 

G: Goofy

He can be goofy during foreplay or aftercare, but Robby likes to keep it more intimate and serious during actual sex. He wants you to know that he takes you seriously, and thinks that you guys are goofy all the time, so he wants sex to be loving and heartfelt. Drunk sex can be goofy, but most of the time, he keeps it mature. 

H: Hair

He will shave it off every once in a while and let it get stubbly for a couple weeks, then shave again. Robby HATES ingrown hairs, so he doesn’t like to shave every day, but he thinks just trimming makes it look sloppy. He settles for shaving every couple weeks. He literally doesn’t even notice when you don’t shave, so obviously he doesn’t care about that. Like he’s so caught up in the moment that you could put a little blue wig down there and he wouldn’t notice. 

I: Intimacy

So growing up, Robby never really had people that cared a lot about him. Because of this, he lives for intimate moments. Just you guys lying on his bed playing with each other’s hair makes him swoon. He’s a romantic guy, and would definitely go all out with flower petals, candles, champagne, and bubble baths if it were a special occasion. He wants you to know that he loves you, and wants to make sure you know how much he loves you. 10/10 romance. 

J: Jack off 

He did it a lot before he met you, but now he prefers you. He really doesn’t feel the need to jack off because you guys are together so often. If he starts thinking about you in the shower or something, maybe he would, but he’d rather just text you to come over. 

K: Kink

So Robby is a switch. When he’s feeling more dominant, he loves to spank you with his hands, a paddle, or his karate belt. He gets off on the fact that you trust him so much to hold your pleasure and pain in his hands. He would never go too far, but he loves how wet you get after a light spanking. When Robby is more sub, he likes when you boss him around. Telling him how exactly to pleasure you, pulling his face further into your core. Making him get on his knees and watch as you pleasured yourself. He worships you. 

L: Location

At first, a bed. But after you guys have sex on a beach at night one time, he realizes that he wants to try tons of different locations. Just the possibilities of how he can position you, someone catching you, or someone hearing how good he makes you feel, really gets him going. His favorite so far was in an empty stairwell at a fancy resort that Sam invited you both to. 

M: Motivation

So like Hawk and Miguel, Robby is a teenage boy! He’s horny all day, every day. He loves seeing you in workout clothes, seeing other guys hit on you and then shrink away when they realize you’re his, teaching you karate, and watching you put your hair up. It reminds him of… certain things. 

N: No

He would never ever let someone else join you guys. Male, female, or other, he hates the idea of someone putting their hands on you in that way, and knows you would feel the same about him. Robby thinks you guys have such a perfect chemistry going, so why would you want to ruin that with another person? It would just be awkward and clumsy, and Robby does NOT like to share. 

O: Oral

So like I said earlier, he thinks porn is accurate when y’all first start having sex. He would go down on you for like 30 seconds, barely using any pressure or suction, and would then be confused as to why you weren’t finishing. He sat you down one day and talked to you about it, because he was scared you just weren’t attracted to him or something. When you told him that you needed more than what he was doing, he made you teach him right then and there. He spent a good hour and a half going down on you, making you tell him what was good and what wasn’t, learning how to actually give GOOD head, and now he’s pretty much an expert. He takes his time and takes cues from you. You were amazing at head right off the bat, and he’s such a simp for you when you’re between his legs. 

P: Pace

It honestly varies depending on the day and what mood you guys are in. He’s a switch in all respects, so he can be slow and loving, or fast and rough, or a mix of the two. He also loves when you start on top and set the pace, and then he will flip you guys over when you get tired and finish you both off. 

Q: Quickie

He likes a good quickie in those moments when you guys are out and get turned on all of a sudden. Robby likes to take you somewhere a little more private and get you both off, before resuming what you guys were doing and acting like nothing happened. You’ve seen him shake the hand of someone with the same hand that was buried in you 3 minutes before, acting like nothing was out of sorts at all. 

R: Risk

He will try new things if you want to, but is honestly pretty content with how you guys fuck right now. His philosophy is “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” But he’s more than willing to try whatever you want to try. Robby can’t say no to his girl. Sometimes, you guys just sit there and watch porn together, and will see something that looks like fun, so you decide to try it. 

S: Stamina

So I feel redundant for saying this on Miguel and Hawk’s too, but he’s a teenage boy! He can’t go for more than 12 minutes at first. He could go like 5 times in a row, but didn’t last very long. Now, he’s way better. He can last for a solid 30 to 40 minutes if he really wants to, but normally you’re satisfied before that and he can let himself finish. 

T: Toy

Robby loves to try toys on you. When you first told him that you had a vibrator, he immediately asked if he could use it on you. He’s fascinated with how different toys do different things, and he loves studying the difference in your reactions depending on what he’s using. He doesn’t really like toys being used on him though. He thinks it feels weird and he'd rather have your mouth or hand. 

U: Unfair

Robby can be a really bad tease if he’s in the right mood. He would hover his mouth over your pussy, letting you shake and cry before he touches you. He would finger you and bring you right up to the edge, before pulling his hand away and laughing as you almost sob. He likes knowing he has the power to make you writhe like that. 

V: Volume

He’s pretty quiet, to be honest. You had to tell him specifically that you wanted him to be louder in the bedroom. Once you did that, he started to let loose a little bit more, but still isn’t super loud. He would rather listen to you scream his name ;) 

W: Wild Card

He loves shower sex. Too many times have you guys both cum, only for him to carry you into the shower to clean off and eventually start round 2. The water, the soap, the nakedness, he’s a sucker for it. There’s no clean up involved, and he even gets a bathtub mat so you guys don’t slip and hurt yourselves. 

X: X-Ray

I said it before and I’ll say it again! Size! Does! Not! Matter! The g-spot is 3 INCHES IN so if he’s hitting it right it’s fine!!! But Robby is probably a solid 6 inches. 

Y: Yearning

Teenage boy! He could go at the drop of a hat. Robby wants you all the time, he just holds back until you want to as well. Which is also often, I mean look at him!

Z: Zzz

He doesn’t really like to fall asleep right after in case you need something. He makes sure he’s available to get you whatever you need: a snack, water, another blanket, a kiss. Robby also likes to hold you while you sleep, because it makes him feel like he’s doing his duty as your boyfriend and protecting you. 

[mountswhore]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 — mason mount

if you guys have any requests, just ask and you shall receive ! <3

aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mason knows you enjoy your time to breathe, and relax after god knows how long of fun. He presses a small kiss to your cheek, thanks you, and helps you put your clothes back on. You’d be on the balcony of his bedroom, letting the wind hit your face, feeling a pair of arms wrap around you and a drink of water appear in front of you. Mason always takes the best care of you, by letting you relax and softly assisting you in whatever you needed.

body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Mason feels as if it’s a bit shallow to have a favourite body part, but if he had to choose, it’d he his arms. He knows you love them, so he loves them too. They hold you down during sex, wrap around your body with ease, making you drool as the veins appear. You get a great view of them holding your legs as he goes down on you.

If he could choose everything about you, he would. But his absolute favourite body part would be your lips. He’d watch you talk to him about whatever, and see how they curve, how bite-able they were. Seeing them wrapped around his cock does a number on him, it’s a sight he wish he could see at any point of the day.

cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Mason knows you enjoy it when he cums inside you, but he loves seeing it all over your face. Seeing those pretty lips at work, then minutes later covered in his cum. What a sight. Or in your mouth. It’s pleasure within itself to watch your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he fills your mouth up and forces you to swallow.

dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mason is dominant as fuck. He loves the whole ‘daddy’ thing, it really gets him going. Just seeing you so soft and innocent underneath him was a sight for sore eyes. It wasn’t an every-time-you-have-sex thing, more of a long-awaited session thing. There are times Mason wants to be soft with you, but this is what turns him on the most.

experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You and Mason met when you were pretty young and inexperienced, which made an awkward first time. But now you look back on it and laugh, because Mason knows exactly how to get you there, and you know how to get him there too.

favourite position (This goes without saying)

During one of your rougher sessions, he’d prefer doggy all the way. It’s the perfect position to hit the spot for you and him. And the view is incredible. But in general, you being on top is his favourite. He gets to see it all, and doesn’t have to move his head. He can see your boobs bouncing as you ride him, your face contort as you moan from the pleasure, and the feeling was immaculate.

goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

When you’d both been on a night out, getting home and all over each other, it’d be a lot of giggly sex. Mason tripping on his trouser leg as he tried to walk and take them off, it was hilarious to drunk you. But you’d be hushed very quickly as his lips met back with yours, pushing you onto the bed before the pair of you were laughing again.

But in moments of missing him for a few weeks at a time, or if Mason is sexually frustrated from being on a sex ban because of football, he’s stone cold. He wants you, he needs you. And you let him. He gets down to business immediately and knows exactly what he’s doing, he wants to hear you moan and feel you around him.

hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mason likes to keep it clean, not hairless, but trimmed. To you, it didn’t matter. But for him, it’s his personal preference.

intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Making you feel good, getting you to your high, that was all that mattered to Mason. He knows you like to be wooed, not just get straight into it. So he always rubs you down gently, his fingers gently drifting to places he couldn’t wait to get to. All while telling you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you. Kissing every inch of your body, moving your hair from your face and complimenting you. Every beautiful thing you could say to your lover, is said.

jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He doesn’t do it a lot. When training for a game, he’s put on a two-week sex ban. So there are times when he gets home and needs to see you in one of your nice lingerie, touching himself to the look of you. But whenever he can spend his time fucking you over and over, it’s time we’ll spent.

kink (One or more of their kinks)

Aside from the daddy kink, he has a corruption kink. Knowing he was your first, he’d slowly plagued your innocent mind with dirty thoughts. Taught you what he liked, learnt what you liked. Seeing you become more confident sexually, because of him, it turned him on.

location (Favorite places to do the do)

Mason has a few favourite places:

The kitchen counter; seeing you bent over and begging for more of him, bruises most likely forming from the constant drilling into the counter. In a house as big as his, you could be as loud as you wanted. And he loved hearing the nice echoes of your moans.

Sun beds; when you were both on holiday, mason was taking advantage of the time he was allowed to have sex. He wanted to enjoy the sun, and you. So in the comfort of your private Villa, you were all his in front of the sweltering sun and gorgeous view.

Car; it was a tight squeeze, sure, but it was all the more sexy. Mase had a legal amount of tint to his windows, meaning nobody was seeing into his car. So he could have you going down on him as he waited in traffic, making all kinds of faces and noises for only you to see and hear.

motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

After your massive shopping sprees, you’d arrive home with a myriad of bags and clothes. You’d make Mason sit on the couch, parading your body around in front of him, with all kinds of complimenting clothing. It wasn’t long before you were both tangled together on the couch, Mason hitting you from behind.

Or when he gets home from training, all sweaty and grunting from moving around for hours, and he’d see you bent over the counter casually scrolling your phone. Mason would be bringing you up to the shower with him.

no (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wasn’t big on tying you up, even if you tell him it doesn’t hurt, he wouldn’t dare do it in case he actually did hurt you. Or spitting in your mouth, it just didn’t turn him on like it did other people.

As far as turn offs go, there’s nothing you do that turns him off.

oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Mason was god-like at giving head, he does it for his own pleasure. But he prefers receiving. Call him selfish, sure. But the look on your face as you’re taking all of him, it’s a sight he wouldn’t exchange for the world.

pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Mason likes to do it rough, he knows it turns you on more than anything, and it ties in perfectly with his kinks. But for more romantic evenings, like your anniversary, he’s holding you gently and slowly thrusting into you, your lips connected the whole time.

quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You only have quickies when you have events to attend to. One of your families barbecues? Quickie either in the car or their bathroom. A wedding party? Quickie in the toilets or he’d be fingering you under on of the tables. Let’s just say Mason lives on quickies.

risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it risky, more experimentation. But when you suggested buying whipped cream, ice, and chocolate sauce. He thought you were making ice creams, not having experimental sex with food. But he bought in nonetheless and tried it, rubbing your nipples with ice cubes. Seeing your back arch and hearing your moans erupt from your mouth, it was enough to know he was going to enjoy you bringing a bag of ice home.

stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Being an athlete, you’d think Mason can last a while. And you’d be right. But sometimes, when he’s had a long few months of training, as well as the god-awful sex ban, just seeing you in a bra would make him cum.

toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Anything that pleasures you, he has it. Vibrators, beads, gag, whip, paddle. You name it. In the bottom of his bedside table, that’s where you’ll find the goodies. After learning how many tools there were to help you reach a good orgasm, Mason was feeling a few hundred quid lighter.

unfair (How much they like to tease)

If football doesn’t work out, Mason could have a career in teasing. He does it in places he knows you can’t do anything about it. At a barbecue, he’ll ‘excuse himself’ past you and grab at your hips tightly, feeling his dick against your ass. Looking back at you with a smirk, you know what he’s in for later.

volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mason had mastered the art of silence, when he’d be sharing a room with another England teammate, and you’d be sending him nudes nonstop. He had a gallery full, and yet here you were, adding a few more and making him hard. But he loved to be loud, knowing it was only you two in the house, he could do as he pleased, grunting as he slammed into you.

wild card (A random headcanon)

He loves being in a cocky mood with you, not to piss you off, but to sexually frustrate you. As you hoover under his feet, he’d whisper a few dirty thoughts into your ear as he got up. Or if you hand him a drink whilst he’s playing on his pc, he rewards you with a slap on the ass.

x-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mason is hung. The men who don’t brag about their size are the biggest. He knows he doesn’t have a completely chiselled body like other men do, but you never fail to remind him that none of them have ever made you cum like he has. It made him more confident about his fingers, his arms, his legs his chest. It was him that you chose, and it’s him that gets to make you cum every night if he wanted to.

yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Too high for the career he has. He’d quite happily be buried between your legs all day if he could choose to be, or have you gagging on him every night. He just wanted you all day every day, and his job wouldn’t allow it. But it made your sex sessions much better, with all the pent up sexual frustration.

zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Not as quickly as you. Whilst you’re dozing off on his chest, he’s stroking your hair with one hand and dragging his other hand from your cheek all the way down to your hips and back. It’s not long after you’re completely out for him to cuddle into you and drift off himself.

if you guys have any requests, do let me know ! <3