#just a quick one because i thought the contrast would be funny

[jichanxo]

if you're going to feed your friends a fake story, it's important to be on the same page (the exciting follow up to turtleneck yagami)

[beelmons]

I have a filthy idea and I love your blog sorry

Hotch x reader x Early seasons!Spencer (or really any older BAU with reader and Spencer, someone has to show him the ropes, right?😩)

Reader is bound and blindfolded. Hotch is trailing a popsicle over reader's skin, showing Spencer where they are most sensitive and Spencer licks the trail of sticky syrup left behind. 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️(lord have mercy I'm a whore)

A/N: Ok so, i really got into this idea and i ended up doing WAY too much and i'm sorry it's so late but i got too excited. anyways, have this monstruosity.

A different kind of teacher

cw: sensory deprivation (hand binding, blindfold, noise-cancelling headphones), threesome, temprature play (use of frozen goods), fellatio, fem!reader, implied polyamory i guess

word count: 1,996 (on accident)

"I don't think that's—" Spencer tried to interrupt when his boss's actions got questionable.

"It's alright." Hotch answered as he gently tied the blindfold behind your head "She's done this before. I told you, if you’re going to learn how to please her, you’re going to do it my way."

"But that's—" he tried to argue again.

"Reid." Aaron said commandingly.

Their bickering was rather amusing, really. Everything about this situation was. A love-struck puppy, namely Spencer, that had found  out you were having an affair, for a lack of a better word, with your boss. Who was later given the odd offer to join in, one that he barely comprehended the dynamic of. The one he ended up accepting because having half of you was better than having none.

The situation in question was no other than your bare body binded to a sex sofa, yes, the one with a funny oval-like shape, in the middle of a street motel. Mind you, a high category one, courtesy of a very spoiling unit chief. Hands tied behind the furniture, a blindfold securely tied against your eyes, and a pair of sound-canceling headphones that would be eventually put on you. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” the younger man confessed. 

His superior shot him a glare, and his finger raised to press against his own lips, indicating the other to keep quiet. He then proceeded to place the aforementioned gadget against your ears to muffle the sounds. 

“You can’t let your nerves overtake you.” Aaron began to talk, walking closer to the chair where Spencer was sitting “Otherwise, you won’t enjoy yourself. And believe me, she wants you to have as much fun as she does.” 

“I just have never done something remotely similar.” he admitted. 

“And that’s okay, that’s why I’m here to guide you.” Hotch patted him on the shoulder, prompting him to stand up, to which Reid complied. 

As the older man directed himself to the cooler, included with the room by the way, Spencer stood awkwardly next to where you were laying. Regardless of his statements about the situation, the twitching of his dick as he watched you breathing, rather heavily, blissfully ignorant of the sinful deeds they were about to do to you, was giving away just how much into it he was. 

“You should learn to use your tongue first.” the boss interrupted his train of thought “We’re going to do a little exercise, okay? I’ll trail this over her skin, her most sensitive spots. Clean her up. You have to be thorough, she doesn’t like feeling sticky.” 

You were absolutely deprived of such supportive conversation, or anything else for that matter. It was exciting in and on itself to be expectant of what would happen next, along with no indication whatsoever of what that would be. Two, insanely hot, men having you at their entire disposal was certainly arousing. 

Such anticipation caused you to moan rather loudly when you felt a cold object hit the side of your neck, slowly melting down towards the base, the feeling only lasted a couple of seconds since it was shortly after contrasted with the warm sensation of what you figured was a tongue following the strip. 

It was quick. It left your skin as soon as it came.

The lack of attention, though, would not last long. You felt a new sting of coldness, only this time it was right over your breast; instead of dripping down, the same tool, whatever it was, moved downwards until it reached your nipple. You could feel it going slightly numb from the temperature, it was making your stomach tighten. Again, you felt it part and something a lot hotter took its place. This time, you could easily tell who was taking advantage of your breasts by the bony structure of the fingers. 

Spencer was ravishing on the sweet taste of the icicle mixed with the salty notes of your sweat. His tongue was eager and clumsy, but pleasurable nonetheless, his fingers gentle and attentive to the sides of the skin, holding back to not let his animalistic side just come out. 

“That’s good.” Hotch praised the young man “It’s all about not knowing what to expect. About surprising her with sudden pleasure.” 

Back in your deprived state, you were simply squirming with delight at how your chest was being treated, mouth slightly agape to allow soft sounds of pleasure to escape. The gap was tempting for one of the men, still unknown to you, to defile, and suddenly you felt something land over your lips. You recognized the mixture of freezing water and sugar, and your tongue instinctively darted out to take a lick. 

The treat instead began to lewdly penetrate your mouth, simulating a fellatio, and the length of it would teasingly near the back of your throat each time. 

The icicle departed promptly, leaving your lips parted and tingly from the coldness, expectant to be inserted again. Instead, the temperature of the new foreign object was the complete opposite, its structure soft to an extent, and salty in flavor. It didn't take you long to notice it was no longer the sugary dessert, but one of your partners' cock.

"Go slow at first, it takes her a second to get used to it." Hotch dragged a hand behind your head, pushing forward gently so you could get more of his shaft into your mouth “But she can take it very well.” 

His fingers trailed over your scalp lovingly. His moans were translated in heavy, airy exhales through his nose. He was obviously playing tough for Spencer, no matter how much your mouth actually disarranged him on the daily. He thrusted a couple more times, until he was fully hard, before he pulled out. 

He made a signal with his hand to indicate the younger to take over, and Reid swallowed back a knot of nervousness. He awkwardly cupped your head between his palms and allowed his tip to testingly land on your tongue. He shuddered with pleasure as your lips hungrily wrapped around it, hollowing your cheeks almost immediately. 

You could tell the member had changed simply by the shape. Leaner girth, more swollen head, and an almost desperate way of moving. He started doubtfully at first, and later his pace began to pick up. His grip on your head was tight, making you unable to move away, and with every push he would reach deeper into your mouth, and the pulsations on his veins would also have a stronger beat. 

Spencer was losing it, mouth parted open, head thrown back, desperate whines spilling from his throat. His inexperience was his biggest enemy, because he didn’t last much inside of you. When he started to feel his orgasm coming, he decided to pull away. His fist curled around his shaft, pumping the base at a rapid speed, his tip pointing to his own stomach, since, to him, coming inside your mouth seemed dirty, almost too humiliating. 

Hotch stared with amusement at how respectful he was being, rookie mistake, he figured. Too overwhelmed with his own pleasure, Spencer had his eyes fully shut, and became absolutely unaware of the second Aaron gently placed his fingers over the moving hand, pushing it down to aim the tip towards your mouth. 

You simply waited for the inevitable, the white strings landing on your tongue, salty and thick, and a lot more than you had expected. When you were sure no more would come out, you attempted to swallow, but before you could close your mouth a thumb invaded it, keeping it open. 

“Watch this magic trick.” Aaron showed Spencer the evidence of his release before shutting your mouth again. 

You took the hint and swallowed, immediately opening your mouth once again to show no trace of the substance left. 

Spencer had to bring a hand to his face to hide his blush, although his again half-hard dick gave him away. 

“That’s actually really hot.” he said shyly, brows furrowed in embarrassment. 

“It is.” Hotch smiled in his direction “Now that you’ve come, it’s just natural to return the favor, don’t you agree?” 

The older man directed himself again to the cooler, taking now a single ice cube that he held with a piece of clothing to avoid getting frostbite. 

“Your training isn’t over yet.” he told Spencer once he was back to your side “Next, let’s get you a real challenge. If one drop of this cube gets on the sofa, you don’t get to touch her the rest of the night.” 

“W-What? Isn’t that a bit harsh?” he complained. 

“If you make her cum before it fully melts,” Hotch ignored the protest “You can fuck her first.” 

Again, your senses were too limited to hear their bet being formed. During their exchanges you just waited patiently, eager to know what would come next. Every once in a while, when the cool air hit you, you tensed up expecting something to happen, and even when it didn’t you just got more excited. 

At last, another sting of coldness hit your skin, this time it was further to the south, just above your clit. You could feel the object slowly melting, the lack of heat spreading to your bundle of nerves, your labia, and almost to your entrance. It was mildly uncomfortable, but exciting nonetheless. 

Out of a sudden, you felt a muscle enter you. You bolted in ecstasy due to finally getting much needed friction on your lower body. It trailed up, slowly and steady, until it reached the top. The lips rounded your sensitive nub, and you could feel them suck on it. The sensation was overwhelming, making you twist over the sofa, shameless erotic moans filling up the room. 

The water kept making its way down your sex, and the tongue diligently prevented it from reaching all the way to the leather, driving you insane with each lap at it. Your hands struggled against the binds that tied you down. You wanted nothing more than to hold his head down and bury it against you, to have him flush against your entrance, just licking you over and over again. 

A hand landed on your head, indicating that you should keep your movements to yourself. The commanding ambience just added to your stimulation, the mouth down your body sucking the neverending stream of water as if trying to lick it dry. Your thighs attempted to close around his head, and you were finally able to grind against him. For some reason, that did it for you, and you allowed your climax to reach you, and your fluids to come out. 

“Impressive.” Hotch praised as he removed the ice cube from your body. 

Spencer, however, did not stop, his tongue moving ruthlessly against your entrance, absolutely drunk on your taste. Aaron could see you squirm uncomfortably, being pushed to a point of overstimulation, hands restlessly clinging onto nothing in an attempt to release the slight pain on your abused clit. 

“Reid.” he called trying to make him stop; the younger man, however, was entranced by your pussy, and did not react to the mention of his name. Hotch was forced to step closer, tangle his fingers on the blond’s hair, and pull his head back by tugging on his locks, forcing him away from you “Behave. There’s plenty of time for more later.” 

He spoke so sternly that it sent shivers down Spencer’s spine, almost as he did during work cases. He nodded with compliance and straightened himself again. 

“Sorry.” Reid ashamedly said. 

“It’s alright. I know how addicting it can be.” while talking, he rummaged through a go-bag he had brought earlier into the room. “Now,” he tossed a condom towards Spencer “Get ready for lesson number two.”

[theoldsports]

Married | Part II

LINK TO PART ONE

Coriolanus Snow x Reader | 5.1K words

FILTHY SMUT 18+ ONLY. oral (m and f receiving), dubcon, alcohol makes consent messy, brutal sex, blackout drunk, bad media coverage, lingerie, exhibitionism (a little), they’re both terrible for each other in the best way possible, possessiveness <3 this one gets a bit dark.

Married, back by popular demand. hope it’s okay. i worked hard, i’m a bit nervous. let me know what you thought. requests always open.

“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”

He inhaled and set his sights towards his next objective. Already leaning in, Coriolanus pulled [Y/N]’s earlobe between his lips tantalizingly. “Now, I seem to recall being promised a blowjob, my Darling.”

[Y/N] sighed. “I had hoped you’d forgotten.”

Coriolanus smirked, inches from her face. “I never forget a promise.” He muttered.

The driver pulled up in front of them with his car and Coriolanus pulled [Y/N] inside. [Y/N] put her head on Coriolanus’ shoulder instead of putting on her seatbelt for the short drive home. She was drunk enough not to care if she was touching him, or if he was touching her. Coriolanus was touching her. He was touching her too much already at her thighs and hips. The pair of them had already broken the touch barrier that evening, but her brain was too loopy to try to push any kind of new/old boundary.

[Y/N] blinked heavily. She was able to tell that Coriolanus was already becoming frustrated with the bulk of tulle that was her black gown. It was funny for an engagement party when she thought about it, since it stood in stark contrast to her crisp white wedding gown. Coriolanus couldn’t seem to figure out how to touch her right under all the fabric as he had then they were standing earlier.

“Is your wedding dress going to be easier to handle?” Coriolanus said into the back of her ear. “This one is starting to get on my nerves.”

“I can’t tell you that. You’re not ‘pposed to see it til you see it at the alter.” She giggled sadly.

Coriolanus frowned. “Ancient superstition,” he said. “I’m not seeing it anyway. You’d be telling me about it. It’s different.”

“Nice try.”

Coriolanus’ frown deepened as he rolled his icy blue ice. “May I ask you something else, then?”

“It depends.” [Y/N] said clearly. Too clearly, really. That was the problem with drunk people, they knew they were drunk, but they tried to prove to everyone around them that they weren’t.

Coriolanus laughed at her expense. She was behaving like a child. He found it equal parts charming and frustrating. “Have you ever given a blowjob before?” He asked too loudly for [Y/N]’s liking.

“Coriolanus!” She gasped, smacking his arm.

“I’m just asking! You don’t have to strike me. Haven’t we had enough of that for one night?”

[Y/N] hated Coriolanus. He made her blood boil. “What does it matter?” She growled.

“I was curious if you had offered because it was a matter of superior ability, or because that was the only thing you had to offer.”

“You’re calling me desperate!”

“I wasn’t specifically, but since we both agree that it’s true…”

“All this was shaping up to be halfway tolerable, and you open your big mouth again. Fuck you!”

“Yeah, I know. You fucking me is what I was aiming for. Yes or no on the blowjob thing? I was assuming you had, if it makes any difference.”

[Y/N] paused. She had given a blowjob. Quite a few, actually. They were very convenient for getting out of a bad situation fast. She didn’t answer. [Y/N] still didn’t have the courage to say that in front of the driver.

“You can say yes. I know you’re not a virgin.” Coriolanus said bluntly.

Coriolanus would know that. Prior to their engagement, it was true that [Y/N] had pulled Coriolanus in for a quick fuck at a University party. She was shocked that he implied he even remembered that for as drunk as she recalled him being. [Y/N] wondered if the two of them would only ever be able to love each other under the influence.

“Can this conversation wait a few moments, we’re almost home.” [Y/N] replied.

“You didn’t have much of a problem back at the party in front of damn near everyone that’s ever known you. Is one driver going to make a difference?”

“FINE!” [Y/N] snapped. “Fine. I have, I give a decent blowie. Happy?”

Coriolanus smiled an uncharacteristically wide grin. The driver coughed slightly and loosened his tie. [Y/N] would have been incredibly embarrassed if she had any dignity left. Coriolanus grinned even wider at his driver’s behavior. His new favorite pass time was seeing how far he was capable of pushing [Y/N] to do whatever he wanted. So far, so good. Her initial resistance before her moment of breaking and behaving even worse than himself is what made this all the more fun.

The driver pulled up in front of the steps to their city apartment. Coriolanus gathered [Y/N]’s long forgotten shoes from the car’s floor. The driver got out to open the door for [Y/N]. Ever the gentleman publicly, Coriolanus ran around the side of the car to get it faster. He helped his fiancée out of the car. A Herculean task when you consider the alcohol in her system and the weight of all the fabric in her ballgown. “Come on, Darling,” he said, yanking her somehow elegantly towards the stairs, “we have business to attend to.”

Coriolanus helped her up the stairs and into their apartment. It was easier than it had been on the way out in those deathtrap heels he had purchased her.

Faintly, [Y/N] heard the door snap shut behind her and the deadbolt click resolutely. She leaned up against the wall. Coriolanus left her field of vision for a moment. When he re-entered her sights, [Y/N] blinked up at him. “Hi.” She said.

Coriolanus smirked at her curiously. “Hello.” He replied.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” [Y/N] started. She took a clumsy step towards Coriolanus and grabbed the lapels of his coat for support once she could reach him. “You’re quite pretty,” she said. Coriolanus began a laugh. “No! Don’t. Don’t do that. I mean, you’re a very attractive man. You are. Too bad that you’re—“

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Coriolanus cut in with a scoff. “Here, let me help you,” he pulled her in closer. His hands moved nimbly down her back to pop open one button after the other on her dress while still allowing her to support herself against his front. For the first time, Coriolanus didn’t care that much if she wrinkled his clothes. When the majority of the buttons were undone, her dress slid down her body and landed in a large heap at her feet. What was left under the dress was [Y/N] in no bra (which Coriolanus had not expected, even under the strapless gown) and alarmingly red lace panties, stockings and garters (also unexpected). “I… Wow,” He said cooly. His eyes raked hungrily down her body. Coriolanus had never seen so much of it at once before. “Is there a bra that goes with this?”

“Mhmm,” [Y/N] nodded shyly.

“Hm, I think I would like to see it sometime. This isn’t half bad, though,” He said. He could Coriolanus’ large hands his hands slid down her chest. His hands held her breasts firmly. His eyes widen watching her nipples pebble under the touch of his thumbs. “Why’d you wear this?”

The lingerie wasn’t the most stunning set he had ever seen—it seemed more practical than anything else— though, he could fix that. Coriolanus felt the crotch of his pants tighten at the prospect, knowing that she was already into wearing such things. He was going to call for a lingerie catalog in the morning and buy all of it.

“It’s most of what I wear. I—I like it.”

“I’ll remember,” Coriolanus nodded. She was confident he would remember. She probably wouldn’t remember saying it, though.

Coriolanus stared down at their hardwood floors. He hated hardwood. It creaked too much and only looked good with an abundance of maintenance. Coriolanus wanted [Y/N] to suck him off as soon as possible and figured that she would probably be appreciative of getting it over with faster, but his mind was racing thinking about the unsightly bruises the hardwood entryway would leave on her knees.

Then the bedroom had the issue of the rug and the rugburn that would give. Further, which bedroom would they go to? Coriolanus hated that [Y/N] insisted on staying in her own room. He would have to fix that. She was clearly just as exciting as he had recalled from childhood, it had merely taken them both a moment to get to that level of vulnerability with each other. Coriolanus decided to lead [Y/N] to his bedroom. He also decided he would insist she kneel on a pillow. He hated the look of bruised knees. It reminded him of the war.

While he pulled her along, he glanced down at her. “The tears at the party, were those real?”

[Y/N] laughed in surprise at the question. “No! Well, maybe twenty percent, if that? Because once I get started, it’s hard to stop.”

“Really?” He replied, leaning her against his open doorway. “You’re sick. I’m rather impressed. That takes a lot of… What’s the word?”

“You said ruthless earlier.”

“Yes, that too, but… It’s brilliant that you can do that at the drop of a hat. Very valuable to you. Scary for me, I’m sure.”

“… Thanks. I’ve been doing it since I was little.” [Y/N] replied dryly. She had never seen Coriolanus’ bedroom before. He had seen hers. Coriolanus thought he could barge in whenever he desired. His own room was previously off limits. [Y/N] figured it wouldn’t have been off limits had she wanted to have sex with him before now.

The room was clean, neat and lacking personal items almost entirely. There was a red rug, a vase of white roses on the nightstand and a small desk for when he took his work to bed with him. The bed, specifically, was enormous. It was piled high with pillow after pillow and the softest white sheets she could imagine. It made the bed she had spent all these weeks in look like a joke.

“Yes, as I recall, you were the fucking… crybaby in school until we were fourteen. And you mean to tell me it was fake?” Coriolanus threw his least favorite pillow on the floor for [Y/N]’s knees with a hushed thump.

“I mean, yes.”

“Why?”

“I like the attention.” [Y/N] said plainly. They both knew she wouldn’t have been so open about it without the alcohol, but boy, did Coriolanus desire this version of her. He saw her in that moment, standing mostly nude in his bedroom. He saw her for the first time for what she was. She was real. [Y/N] was a real person made up of a mess of contradictions. She was a very calculating person. Coriolanus saw that ruthlessness and that icy deadness to her. That was exactly the thing he thought he could love the most about her.

“Freak. What else can you do?”

“I dunno. I just… Do what gets me ahead. Don’t we all, Coriolanus? And, uh, when I see someone I don’t like, instead of saying ‘good to see you’ when they say ‘good to see you,’ I say, ‘yes! To see you!’ And I kind of mumble so it’s not obvious that I’m incapable of saying ‘oh yeah, nice to see you.’ You know I hate pleasantries.”

“Freak,” Coriolanus repeated with a smile. “No pleasantries then, get on your knees.”

[Y/N] walked the few steps towards towards the pillow he had thrown down and sank to her knees on it. She was clumsy when she was drinking, Coriolanus thought. More often than not, she was violently ungraceful more often than not. Coriolanus had rarely seen her be graceful at all. He liked that. He thought he’d moments of clumsiness and carelessness were alluring. [Y/N] looked helpless to him sometimes and he admired that. He wanted to be the thing that held together her broken and unsure nature. He thought of all the things he might have to help her accomplish in their future shared life together.

Coriolanus could see himself reaching easily for things she could not reach in the kitchen. He could see her being unable to lace up her winter boots due to the tightness of her dress, so he would get on his knees and do it for her. If she tripped on the sidewalk, he would pull her to her feet. If [Y/N] was too drunk to get up the stairs, he would carry her. When some strange man dared to look at her the wrong way, Coriolanus would kill him. She seemed so fragile and needy to him. Coriolanus loved that.

He needed her to need him. He wanted to be the only thing she ever need.

She was to be his.

“Stop looking at me,” She said. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Wow, that kind of talk really gets me hard.” Coriolanus walked towards her, undoing his black leather belt and tossing his coat on the floor. She thought about the amount of excess he would afford her if he cared so little for his own possessions to leave them on the floor. [Y/N] thought about her own position on his floor briefly.

“We agreed no pleasantries.”

“Come on, you’re going to be mine for the rest of our lives. At least let me look at you.”

[Y/N] tipped her head down with a frustrated sigh. He stared wolfishly at her as she knelt half-bare on his floor. She couldn’t help but blush at how exposed she felt. [Y/N] felt more on display and exposed in front of one man, the man she was to marry, than she did in front of every guest at the party earlier in the night.

“Don’t look away from me,” Coriolanus said firmly. “Those eyes are too beautiful to look at the ground like that.”

She looked back up at him begrudgingly, her eyes wide with fear, or lust. She had no choice but to watch Coriolanus popped open the button of his trousers open. [Y/N] could see the imprint of his dick against his thigh. He rubbed himself through his pants for a moment. [Y/N] swallowed nervously. Coriolanus was a broad, imposing man. The size of his cock shouldn’t have been surprising, but her eyes bulged all the same.

Coriolanus pulled his cock free of his pants. Logistically, [Y/N] was officially concerned about offering the blowjob. His long cock was what her the rest of her life looked like. She would surely have to get used to it eventually.

Without hesitation, [Y/N]’s mouth fell open as he approached. Her hands instinctually gripped the back of his thighs. Coriolanus, after loosening his tie, buried his hands in her once elegantly styled hair and forced himself down her throat.

Coriolanus moaned through gritted teeth in sync with [Y/N]’s gag when she took him in. There was little chance of taking all of him down her throat at once. Unsurprisingly, Coriolanus fucked hard and fast. Brutally so. [Y/N] hardly had a chance to breathe through her nose. Fortunately, at least, Coriolanus did all the work by maneuvering her face up and down on his length. He regulated the tempo and the pressure. All [Y/N] could do was try to swallow and hollow her cheeks out as best she could. Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you, echoed in her mind.

Tears ran down her cheeks. Real ones.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Coriolanus grunted after several moments. [Y/N] raised her tongue slightly against him. Through wet eyes, she saw Coriolanus’ eyebrows lift and his forehead crease when she did. That was effective. “[Y/N]!”

The only sounds in the room after that were gagging and heavy breathing. Coriolanus’ breathing, not [Y/N]’s. She couldn’t remember the last time she was able to breathe, it felt like. She was really blowing for her life here, she could barely catch an inhale through her nose. [Y/N] felt herself get more and more lightheaded and she did all she could to keep her eyes open.

Quickly, she tapped the back of Coriolanus’ left thigh. It was universal symbol for this isn’t great for me. Coriolanus understood this signal loud and clear. He thought he would keep going, but almost immediately decided he would rather have a wife in one piece instead of a perfect blowjob and slowed his pace significantly. Like a good husband.

He got gratification from slowing down too, because he could see the relieved and grateful gleam in [Y/N]’s expression. Coriolanus had gifted her that relief. He was getting close.

“Swallow.” He choked out. [Y/N] turned her eyes up at him again to confirm his request. Coriolanus’ eyes were tightly shut. [Y/N] had no idea if this had been minutes or near an hour. Her jaw ached. She felt his cock twitch against her tongue as she sucked.

That was the last clear memory [Y/N] had that night. The build up of the alcohol that had been genetically modified to be strong enough to get one drunk faster, the stress, the sweat, the tears, the blowjob, the lightheadedness, the dancing, the fear and the anger all happening on one night culminated into a good old fashion liquor blackout.

She had brief flickers of memory instead of a picture of the night. She was unsure if Coriolanus had finished or not. [Y/N] vaguely remembered Coriolanus unhooking her garters and taking off her stockings. She could feel the clean sheet and duvet over her exhausted body. She swore she could recall Coriolanus’ arm over her her waist and his lips against her ear whispering something. If only she could remember what he said.

—

The next morning, [Y/N] woke up to the birds and the traffic noise. All of it sounded world-shatteringly loud. She felt sick to her stomach. What was that dreadful taste in her mouth? Her head pounded. Too much posca at her engagement party. Desperately, she wanted a cup of coffee. [Y/N] groped at the covers to drag them over her face to block out the morning light that filtered through the window.

Hold on.

As she pulled the covers over her head, [Y/N] realized these covers did not smell like her. They smelled of roses. That, and something else more metallic that lingered under the palatable rose smell. Coriolanus smelled like that. Coriolanus’ bed.

Buried in the comfortable duvet, she couldn’t bear to crawl out from under it. She was filled with panic. How had she ended up here? She could feel that Coriolanus wasn’t beside her, so where had he ended up? Had they slept together?

Had they slept together?

The phrase and all of its meanings bounced around in her head. Her hand slid down her body. She had no top on. That was a bad sign. Her hand continued further down her body and landed on lace underwear. She exhaled and let her hand flop back down on the bed. From another room, probably the living room, [Y/N] heard the phone ring. She wished it would stop. [Y/N] rose from bed with some difficulty.

It was clear upon standing up that the only thing that would make her feel better was vomiting. She dashed madly for Coriolanus’ en suite bathroom and knelt in front of the toilet, empty the contents of her stomach for a good couple of minutes. The pressure of her headache decreased afterwards, but the terrible taste in her mouth grew. [Y/N] flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. She had never looked this bad in her life.

Dark ringed eyes, leaking leftover makeup and smeared lipstick, a bold hickey on her neck like a seventeen year old. What had she done?

[Y/N] grabbed Coriolanus’ burgundy robe off the back of his bathroom door and cinched it around her waist. She walked back through his bedroom. Her knees burned a bit with each step. Maybe from the heels she had worn the night before. Her eyes landed on the flat pillow on the floor right next to Coriolanus’ belt. This seemed like a bad omen.

Suspiciously, [Y/N] walked into the too bright hallway light. [Y/N] stumbled to her own bathroom and frantically brushed her teeth before facing Coriolanus. It hurt to hold her jaw open to brush her molars, but anything to rid herself of the salty, stale taste that had taken up residence. Finally then, she moved into the living room.

There was Coriolanus smiling on the couch like he was most mornings after some sort of party. His hair lacked product and lay rich and curly against his forehead. Boxer shorts and an open dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up left little up to the imagination about his body. He was so pale that he practically reflected the sunlight from the open window back at her like a mirror. Coriolanus was perfect, even first thing. How annoying.

“What time is it?” [Y/N] croaked hoarsely. Coriolanus nearly knocked his mug of bitter coffee off the end table in surprise as he reached for the remote. He abruptly clicked off the television.

“Eleven. There about,” Coriolanus replied, vocally calmer than his body would betray. He rose from the mauve couch and moved to [Y/N]. He ran his hand down the sleeve of his robe that she wore. “Is this mine?” He asked softly.

“Yes, sorry. It was all I could find. I’ll go swap it for—“

“Please. What is mine, is yours,” Coriolanus interrupted. “It suits you,” he said with a hand running across his own gold CSB monogram on the breast pocket of the robe she wore. “How did you sleep?”

“Fine, I suppose,” but what she really wanted to say was ‘what did we do last night?’ “And you?”

Coriolanus chanced an animalistic smile. “Last night, you said no more pleasantries.”

[Y/N] scanned her brain for a memory of saying that. She did not remember that phrase specifically, but she did catch a lot more glimpses of her night in her mind’s eye. [Y/N]’s strongest images were her mother’s shocked eyes, the empty glasses of posca, Coriolanus with a red handprint on his cheek, and his hard cock at her eye level.

“Coriolanus, what did I do?” [Y/N] asked, realizing exactly what she had done.

“Which part?” Coriolanus asked cautiously, sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close. Coriolanus wanted her to feel held and ravished for a moment since he knew she would go ballistic at what was on the TV, in the newspaper, and on the lips of everyone in town. She felt like a still from an old moving picture; being held like that.

“How bad?”

“Hm? Oh, your mouth was lovely—“ he tried to expertly redirect with an innuendo.

That assumption of what they had done had been correct. Damn. “No, shut up, stop. The… The TV, the news, the—“

“Do you want to know?”

[Y/N] felt like deflating. It must have been bad. She thought back to how he had turned off the television so fast when she walked in. “I… Will I like what I see?”

“How about we sit down, Darling?”

Coriolanus sat [Y/N] down gently on the middle cushion of the couch and folded his lanky legs into the seat to her right. She looked worried. Coriolanus hated watching other people worry, it was distracting for him and often created too many new problems. He swallowed down the urge to snap at her for pouting like that. He hated pouting too considering how unproductive it was. The blonde man reached his right hand out and used a pointer finger and thumb to tip [Y/N]’s chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “Hey,” he said calmly. “Any press is good press.” Coriolanus repeated their mantra from the night prior.

[Y/N] inhaled through her nose. “Any press is good press.” She agreed. Coriolanus nodded and pressed a dutiful kiss to her temple to praise her for that answer. [Y/N] stared at the dark and glassy TV screen. Coriolanus clicked it on.

A fuchsia haired newswoman sat behind a desk with the regular Capitol News studio set up for an morning gossip show. The headline was plastered on a chiron in the lower third of the screen: ‘SNOW HEIR’S GIRL OUT OF CONTROL.’ In the top right hand corner of the frame was a photo of [Y/N] sobbing on her knees in front of Coriolanus’ who wiped her tears. [Y/N] wasn’t able to listen to the grating anchorwoman who was speculating about whether or not Coriolanus should send [Y/N] to rehab.

Coriolanus watched [Y/N] watch herself on TV. He grew uncomfortable when he couldn’t automatically read her expression. He had prepared himself for some tears and a temper tantrum, but neither came.

“What are you thinking about?” Coriolanus asked her. [Y/N] was too still. She didn’t respond quickly. “[Y/N]?” Coriolanus nudged her with his elbow. “What are you thinking about?”

“The headline.” She finally replied.

Coriolanus bit his bottom lip. He kept his voice as level as she had. “Okay. What about the headline?” He asked.

“Well, it isn’t very good, is it?”

“What?”

“It’s too plain.”

Coriolanus narrowed his eyes. “It’s too plain?”

[Y/N] nodded slowly. She finally ripped her eyes away from the television set and looked up at him. “It’s informative, but it’s not eye catching beyond being alarmist,” She replied. [Y/N] pointed at the TV, smiling. “That’s my picture. That’s us up there, Coryo, and that’s the best headline they could come up with? It’s weak.”

Coriolanus couldn’t recall her calling him Coryo before, even when [Y/N] had heard it from friends, family and classmates. She was saying something. He should have been paying better attention, but [Y/N] looked lovely wearing his robe. “Coryo, are you listening to me?”

He wasn’t. Too bad. Coryo. “I got distracted, I’m sorry, Darling. You were saying?”

“I said, please get me a piece of paper and a pencil. I want to work on something better and call in a suggestion for a correction since obviously—Mmph!“

[Y/N] sentence was never finished. Coriolanus leaned in towards her face and slammed his lips against hers hungrily. Habitually, [Y/N] grabbed his biceps as they toppled flat back onto the couch. Coriolanus wasted little time pressing the tip of his tongue against her lips aggressively. He knew he gave into an open-mouthed makeout too easily, but it was so much fun.

Both pulled back after some time for a breath. “Coriolanus…” [Y/N] panted.

“Coryo, please. Nobody calls me that anymore.” He said, staring down at her.

“Coryo, I want a pencil and a piece of paper.”

“You’re crazy. You want to call in a correction on a story about yourself because you want to make it worse. You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Then tell me some more after you get me—“

“Not yet,” Coriolanus said. His hands untied her robe like she was a gift box. The best present to come out of this engagement party, certainly. “[Y/N], do you know what you did last night?”

“A few things, at least.”

“Very funny. I mean…” Coriolanus sighed. His hormones raced. He could barely make eye contact with her since his eyes were drawn elsewhere. “I mean, you bulldozed your whole life. You Thirteen’d your life off the map.” he said. She nodded. She shivered at the reality of his statement. [Y/N] had nothing left but ashes. She had burned almost every bridge she had.

Except him.

“Not the part with you,” [Y/N] said. She smiled. She said it to please Coriolanus and it seemed to work. He was much easier to play than she thought he was. “You’re all I’ve got left, Coryo.” That was absolutely true. For better or worse, Coriolanus was inevitable.

“Let me take care of you,” Coriolanus said. “You’re about to be my wife. There’s no one else you need. You’re mine. I’m not going to let you fall through the cracks.” He said.

“Promise you won’t?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Coriolanus said honestly, but he didn’t feel strongly enough to really promise. “Do you like these panties?”

“Yes.”

“Shame. I’ll buy you a new set.” There was a horrible tearing sound and after that, Coriolanus’ mouth was on [Y/N]’s pussy. He licked and sucked for all he was worth.

[Y/N] did not expect Coriolanus to be good at this. All this time, she had disallowed him from touching her because she thought he would be a selfish lover. There was still potential that he was, but fuck, Coriolanus sure was good for this. His long thin nose bumped her clit as he pressed his tongue deeper into her folds and she moaned. Her hands sank into his curls.

“Don’t touch my hair.” Coriolanus said into her cunt.

“No,” She said, pulling on his hair. Coriolanus was irked, but let her do it anyway. He had never felt pleasure from someone tugging his hair like that before. [Y/N] wrapped her legs around his shoulders. Coriolanus used his strong, callused hands to hold her thighs open. He was going to make her cum with only his greedy mouth, like she had for him last night.

Quid pro quo. That was the nature of their whole operation, Coriolanus realized. It was fine by him.

It was still early and Coriolanus had the day off. He was ready to make up for lost time. He was going to make her cum in every room of their home. Coriolanus was addicted to her taste. He was addicted to her mind. All of this felt cloaked in danger; it was too personal for Coriolanus. Oh well.

By day’s end, [Y/N] wouldn’t be able to climb out of bed for a couple of days on her own. Coriolanus’ constant tongue-fucking pulling orgasms from her had turned her brain to mush, but not before she was able to force Coriolanus off and jot down a few headlines of her own while he marked up her neck.

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE: FREAK OR FOOL?’

‘CAPITOL’S GOLDEN BOY FALLS FOR BAD GIRL.’

‘ALLEGED CHEATING SCANDAL SHAKES CAPITOL YOUTH.’

‘GAMEMAKER WALKS OUT THE VICTOR AFTER PARTY DISASTER.’

‘’WEDDING IS OFF’ SPECULATES PLINTH FAMILY.’

‘GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE LIES, CHEATS AND STEALS THE NIGHT.’

‘SNOW’S FALLING (STANDARDS).’

Half of her ideas dripped as moans while Coriolanus worked on her pussy. She was weak enough to do little more than pull his hair and try to clench around whatever he pushed into her. [Y/N]’s orgasm-addled mind finally comprehended that Coriolanus made her better. He made her more creative, bolder, and free from every burden except him. Finally, willingly, [Y/N] gave Coriolanus the last thing she had to give: Herself.

It felt fucking incredible

TAGLIST:

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apologies again for the tags that did NOT work.

[ssahotchnerr]

Omg, could you pretty please do a ice skating date with Aaron 🥺

everything

omg omg YES cw; bau!reader, established relationship, fluff and some suggestiveness <3

much to one's surprise, aaron hotchner was spontaneous, and it was one of the most romantic qualities he possessed.

the contrast was still enough to give you whiplash at times. once, aaron was the last person you would've thought to jump at an opportunity to stray from routine, orderly and structured in and outside the office. that's the reputation he still upheld when it came to the team. it was almost too hard to believe, despite your reassurances otherwise.

it had been a rare weekend date night; the two of you had just left dinner, and were heading back to the car when you came across the rink in the middle of the town square. before your brain could even process what it was, aaron was pulling you in the direction of the skate rental, peering back at you with a lively yet almost wise, cheeky expression on his face - he knew you would find this just as enjoyable as he would, probably more.

it was like a literal scene out of a movie, very hallmark-esque; colorful, twinkling lights surrounding the rink, soft snow flurries drifting in the air, the love of your life's hand in yours as you skated alongside each other, bundled up in a warm coat, hat, aaron was even sporting a scarf. the two of you made small talk, poking fun and laughing with each other if one of you merely slipped. the only correct way to describe it was pure magic.

as aaron talked about tomorrow's plans - jack wanted decorate the apartment for the holidays - you couldn't help but stare lovingly at him. he sent every part of you aflame; you were warm inside despite the near frigid cold, butterflies continuously erupted in your stomach, and just having him besides you, there weren't enough words to describe the feeling within.

you just kept thinking - this. this is how it's supposed to be. life, love, everything.

"why are you looking at me like that?" a chuckle shook through aaron's chest, gazing down at the ice with a mindful eye - weary and careful of potentially slipping and bringing you down with him.

you slid to a stop, gliding in front of aaron and grabbing onto both his hands. "because i love you."

aaron's adorable smile formed on his face, giving your glove-covered hands a squeeze. "or, is it because i look like a complete idiot?"

"well i mean, yes." you were quick to quip, deadpanning teasingly. aaron's laugh filled your ears and prompted you to release a laugh of your own. but, you shook your head. "no. again, because i love you."

aaron hummed in content. "how'd i get so lucky?" he gently pulled on your hand, and due to the slick ice, it was more than enough to cause your body to meet his, drawing you in for a sweet, quick kiss.

"funny, i was just asking myself the same thing." you grinned, running a hand along his chest before resuming to skate, towing him along. "have you even been skating before?"

"i must've at some point, i'm sure." aaron's lips formed into a smirk, separating your joined hands to place one on your lower back, sliding downwards. "better hold on just in case."

"careful." you playfully warned as your heart fluttered, narrowing your eyes jokingly at him. "skating doesn't give you the excuse to be handsy."

aaron's brown eyes always sparkled naturally, but add in the surrounding twinkling lights, they were simply ethereal. "says who?"

[thegirlwhowatchedeverything]

The conversation about the death of Sydney's mom in 2x9 is so unhinged. At first we're made to think Carmy's responding the way 99.9% of people would to hearing about someone's dead loved one - "I'm sorry" - but no, before his mind arrives at that automatic human response, his first thought is to apologize for not knowing this deeply personal fact about his girlfriend business partner: I'm sorry...I feel like I should have known that. The writers know what they we doing. Especially in the context of the next part of the conversation. Syd immediately shuts down what she thinks is the token apology she's been on the receiving end of for 20+ years. I honestly don't think she even hears what he says after "I'm sorry". It's only after she shuts him down for what she thinks is the token apology that Carmy actually gives said token apology. For whhyyy did they write I feel like I should have known that. I mean we know why but let's do a quick Claire comparison. After creepily getting Carmy's number from Fak, this exchange happens in 2x3:

Claire: Okay can you just, can you just not make this weird? (the cognitive dissonance of this statement, Claire, babe...) Like I just need a favor. My cousin bailed on me.

Carmy: What, Big Denny?

Claire: No, Mac. Denny's dead.

Carmy: Oh. Damn, Denny.

Claire: Yeah, totally sucks, but I have to move all this shit for my mom who is not dead. She's absolutely thriving...(rest of convo is irrelevant to my point)

There was no narrative need to emphasize the fact that Claire's mom is alive (and thriving!) other than to directly contrast Sydney. You can't even say oh it's a throwback to the dark humor of S1 with the two "I'm not dead, my brother's dead" conversations Carmy has with the health inspector lady (1x2) and Mr. Szorski at Cicero's catering gig (1x4) because those scenes are dark and sad and funny because we know and care about Carmy and Mikey whereas we do not know or care about Big Denny or Claire's mom. Carmy and Mikey are the absolute driving forces of the show, especially in S1 whereas we never see or hear about those two other characters. But, interestingly, Carmy clearly knew Big Denny and didn't even respond with the (as established) token "I'm sorry." Whereas he looks absolutely anguished over Sydney's mom, a woman he's never met and knows absolutely nothing about. But he plays it like he's finding out about the death of his mother in law because he feels like he should have known. And yes, granted in this context dead mom > dead cousin on the emotional scale but still. Carmy's two reactions are so starkly opposite.

It's just so pointed to have Carmy react to the deaths of his girlfriend's and girl-who-is-a friend's relatives, no? We knew the reveal of Sydney's mom was coming because it's narratively relevant, it's such a formative part of Sydney (hence why it hits Carmy like a gut punch). But to unnecessarily bring up Claire's mom for what other reason than contrast with Sydney, right?

Okay, to bring it back to the scene in question - this man is able to pull the biggest smile and laugh from Syd all season by matching her energy and making a deadpan joke about her deceased mom. But it's fine because he doesn't think he's funny (1x8). He doesn't need to bring pleasure or amusement to others (2x10). I can't.

[withleeknow]

HAII! i’m so happy to hear you’re opening requests, your writing is incredible !!

if you remember my idea with the dancing, as you said a short thing, could you write something similar to that maybe?

if not, lee know and yn play truth or dare together one night, “do it, i dare” what happens is free for you to decide 😊

-🍓

devastate me.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: brother's best friend au, mutual pining, kinda fluffy?, kinda angsty?; tbh idek if this makes sense bc my apologies, i finished it at almost 3 in the morning in a delirious state of mind lol, unedited @.@ word count: 0.7k note: hi strawberry!! i chose to do the second one bc i wasn't sure if i could do your original justice with just a quick drabble, but i hope you like this one regardless!! merry christmas heheheh <;33

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

what is lee minho?

to many, he's wonderfully charming, handsome, insanely smart and funny to the point that it's almost annoying, because how on earth can someone have it all just like that? he's kind and sweet. honest and gentle. the perfect man.

to you, he's all of those things and more. much more.

he's the person that you've been in love with for as long as you can remember. the person whose name you will forever associate with the longing of first love. it's beautiful, but it's pain nonetheless.

he's forbidden fruit, the one you want the most but can't possibly have.

your brother's best friend.

but...

if that's the case, if he's off limits to you and you're off limits to him, then why does he have a hand on the wall next to your head, looming over your body with the intensity of a predator? why is he caging you between his arms in the middle of a hallway, at a party in a stranger's house, where anybody could walk by and see you? why are his hips pressed against yours, blurring a line that could be never uncrossed if you take that step? why is he leaning in until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, until your lips are brushing, so close and yet... so far away?

you know why, and it's possibly the worst thing that you could ever be aware of.

that as much as you're in love with him, he's in love with you too.

you feel it every time his eyes fall on you from across the room. every time his touch lingers on your skin from the simplest of interactions. every time he softens when you’re around. every time you’re alone together and he bites his tongue, swallowing down the words you wish he would say - the words you wish you could tell him yourself.

your voice comes out as a mere whisper. "what are you doing?"

maybe it's because you both have had something to drink. maybe it's just simply liquid courage.

“when are we going to stop pretending that there’s nothing going on between us?” he asks, voice dropping low, husky. it sounds a little vulnerable, just like you.

there’s no point in denying it. the truth is clear as day.

“we can’t,” you say.

“why not?”

“you know why.”

minho sighs, then clenches his jaw before he speaks next, frustration laced into every syllable. “i don’t care what anyone else thinks. i just want you.”

“min-”

“fuck,” he interrupts, leaning his forehead to rest against yours, his fingers holding onto your waist more tightly. “i love you.”

you place a hand on his chest, meaning to push him away but then you find his heartbeat under your palm instead, hammering against his chest like it wants to escape from his body.

in a split second of weakness, a split second where the logical part of your brain falters, your eyes flicker to his lips.

and minho, ever the sharp observer even in a state of mild inebriation, notices.

“do it,” he mutters, his words a stark contrast to the helpless tone that he says them with. “i dare you.”

a shaky inhale from you, an almost pleading look from him. even when he's practically begging you, he's handing you all control. to say no if that's what you really want. to leave and dismiss everything as just some stupid joke later on, and go back to revolving around each other in secret, like a couple of powerless fools.

your fingers grip his shirt, because goddamn, of course you want it. you've never wanted anything in your entire life more than you want him. you already have one foot in already, half a mind to blow it all the way to hell and deal with the fallout when the time comes.

you catch his eyes once more, and the sincerity in his galaxy shakes you to the core.

fuck it.

you pull him in, obliterating the gap.

i love you, but you’re telling him in a different way.

so, if someone were to ask you again: what is lee minho?

he’s a lot of things. charming, handsome, smart, funny. the person you love, the very one that you can’t have. the answer is pretty much the same.

but most of all, lee minho is devastating.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 24.12.2023]

[momentomori24]

I haven't seen anyone talk about it in detail if at all, so I'll just throw this out there: Is it just me, or are Ashley's feelings for Andrew very not romantic?

Just to be very clear-- this isn't me trying to sanitize the incest present in their relationship or twist it into pure unproblematic platonicness despite everything in the game being a hellish, dystopiant, grotesque, unapologetic mess (in a good way), just an observation that's been on my mind for a while.

We know Andrew is absolutely, 100% romantically attracted to his sister especially through both his inner monologues, relationship with Julia and of course, The Scene. But I never really got that same attraction from Ashley. She loves to degree where it can't be considered platonic, but there's a blunt edge to her affection I wouldn't call romantic either.

She's obviously been obsessed with him from a young age as he's the only person she had to cling to without worrying that he'd leave her. She doesn't treat him like a person, she treats him like a coveted toy that only she can play with. Between borderline neglegent parents, untreated apathy issues, a major abandonment complex and a parentified brother/psuedo-dad, unhealthy attachments and toxic tendencies can go real bad real quick. Go figure. It's possessive, referring to her brother as hers and something that's considered stolen the moment someone else has an interest in it, but it feels a lot more "innocent" than Andrew's possessiveness of her. Andrew is hers to have because he's her brother, just like how a plaything would be hers because it was bought for her-- there doesn't seem to be anything more to it than that.

I think the best example of that is their reaction to the Vision in the Burrial route:

Unlike Andrew, who is disturbingly flustered rather than reasonably revolted, she just... doesn't have a reaction to it. They've already trapped themselves in a box with each other and commited some of the worst atrocities imaginable, so she just chalks it up to another thing to add to their crimes list. Her causual playfulness and indifference to the situation is such a strong contrast to Andrew's desperate denial and really shows her feelings about the whole thing. Or lack of, as she isn't at all fazed about it. You'd think that she'd be thrilled, or excited or equally as flustered as Andrew at the thought of their relationship taking the next big step, but there isn't any of that here. Despite her jealousy, obsession, possessiveness and extreme closeness, it doesn't seem that there was ever any romantic intent involved on her end (or at least none that she knows of). Heck, she even voices her confusion when Andrew confesses he read her actions that way:

There is something funny about going through the story thinking ''ok i get it she's the obsessed yandere sister with a brother complex i see you game'' only to be hit with the revelation that it's the complete opposite way around. Basically just Ashley hitting both Andrew AND the players with the "wait you really saw me like that what did i even do to make you think that??" at the very end and it is baffling. The fact that she seems genuinely oblivious to how she comes off is both a little cute and unexpectedly innocent, but also cements just how little she grew up from when she was a kid.

But I think this line from her really encapsulates their relationship perfectly:

One way to keep him around. She won't sleep with him because of some repressed sexual tension or genuine (messed up) affection, but because she views it as transactional. She loves Andy, that version of her brother who went along with whatever she wanted and cared about her despite all her issues when no one else did. She always acts uncaring towards other people, but it's so obvious that she's lonely. That the people she cares about not caring about her has an effect on her. We see it with their mom, the way she continued to call her despite the abuse and neglect she put her through and immediately assumes she wouldn't have wanted them to find her because she feels that unwanted. We see it with her ''friends'', the way she felt so betrayed by how they basically left her for dead in that apartment without bothering to try throwing some food up their balcony. She didn't even care if they would've succeeded or not-- she just wanted someone to try. She clings so viciously to her brother because he's all she has left. She's been labelled unlovable by everyone else in her life, and the moment he leaves her for someone more stable, she's alone for good. Andy needed her the same way she needed him, but now he's gone, and Andrew is more unpredictable than ever. His nightmares have gotten better, so he doesn't need her to sleep easier at night (not that he did in the first place). He's better at having a social life too, so surrounding himself with others and getting his life together shouldn't be too hard. He doesn't need her the way she needs him anymore, but she knows that Andrew wants her, so she'll give herself to him before anyone else can if it means that he'll stay. Which, by the way, is such a good parallel to her mom's own mindset when it comes to relationships (like mother like daughter ammirite). It's so far from love; it's just blatant codependancy she doesn't acknowledge on her end, something we see Andrew both enable and take advantage of whether he realises or not. And I think that's a more nuanced, fascinating trait of her character rather than just the ''yandere sister in love with her brother'' trope.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this messy, hopefully coherent analysis of our gravecest couple, mostly focused on Ashley. And who knows, maybe she IS in love with Andrew and I completely misinterpreted her feelings for him, but until proven otherwise I'll keep clinging to this theory. This GAME THE-- [GUNSHOTS].

[alwaysshallow]

coffee at midnight, part 7

John "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

You try the whole "dating" thing. Soap doesn't quite like that, and it shows. (4,4k)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

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If you'd known how much of a fuss it would be, you wouldn't even tell him. Hell, you wouldn't even think about telling him, you'd just describe it as a simple meeting with an old friend, and he'd know everything afterwards.

Now, you felt like you were seventeen again, trying to explain yourself right in front of your mom when you did something that she didn't like.

The only difference was, Soap acted like your mom, proudly taking her place in scolding you.

"'s like a free invitation for an axe murderer to come and get ya. Bonnie, thought yer gonna be smarter than this." He looked at you, his eyebrows furrowed. You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to see how conflicted he was with you going out without him.

Well, maybe it was also the fact that you were going on a date; an unexpected one, but you couldn't really say no, when your best friend played as your wingman.

And, what could shock the most, the wingman wasn't Soap, but Gaz that got into the conclusion you needed something like this; after your injury, but also in general since he hasn't seen you in ages on date with someone. Truth, harsh but still truth, got into you, so you've decided he's completely right. You needed this, a fresh air in the whole situation.

Which was funnier, that date was with Cody. Cody, who got your fake number from Johnny just because he didn't like him and he gave off weird vibes and you deserved better. You felt bad for a moment considering it was a fucking helpline, but it was too late to do anything with it. What's more to it, you really didn't want to tell him that your idiotic best friend decided to joke, thinking it would be funny.

That guilt was until Garrick proudly admitted that he gave him your number because it felt right. Because Cody asked about you since he saw you with them, and after a quick "interrogation", he felt like a proud wingman to allow him to take a shot on you.

Pretty funny choice of words, but all in all, you knew what Gaz was thinking about. You've babbled with him about it for almost two hours straight, drinking wine, while Soap just listened, throwing his snarky remarks from time to time. He looked like a kid that got his candy stolen from him, and while you didn't really like that kind of behavior, it was kind of funny to see him like this.

Such a contrast to his usually playful nature, especially in something stupid; you were just getting ready for the date. Nothing too scandalous, nothing too fancy, and nothing too deep, but the last thing you kept to yourself, just to get him riled up.

"Axe murderer that I know, Soap," you groaned, when he stood in your way, clearly not wanting you to go any further. Or to at least think what you were doing, which was funny enough, given you were a grown up woman. Not his sister that he needed to protect because she's not mature enough to think for herself, his best friend that knew exactly what she's doing.

At least, she pretended like she knew it. He was so stern that even when you gave him a look, full of politeness, he wasn't impressed.

"You just met him after years," he emphasized the last word. "He could be so much different than the last time you've seen him, 'st sayin'. Yer too good to people, always been."

You sighed, a little defeated; there was nothing you could say that would convince him enough to Cody. "Yet, Kyle thinks he's pretty good for going out."

Soap laughed at your words, shaking his head with disbelief. His previously royal, blue eyes, were nothing like before; they were a bit... colder, if it was even possible. "And since when Kyle is your love advisor?" He raised his eyebrow, his arms crossed at his chest. It felt pretty defensive, even for him.

And, you would lie if you'd tell that you didn't like that, even if it was weird for you, to see him care about something like this. It was heartwarming; like he didn't actually want you to see that guy, to see him adding his statement.

But, of course, you couldn't admit that. It would only make his ego burst, and it was the last thing that he needed to know.

Besides, it would only make things more complicated.

"And like, it's..."

"Why do you care anyway?" you interrupted him; he opened his mouth for a moment, to close it right away, like your words actually hit him. "Genuinely. It's just a date."

Soap rolled his eyes, playing with his fingers – when you only glanced at them, he swiftly hid them behind his back. Like he wanted to keep them away from you, like you would say something about it. It was weird, but you didn't pay much attention to it back then.

"Carin' about you. 's all." He shrugged, looking carefully at you, when you put your shoes on. "'st... be careful, aye? 'm gonna kill this lad if he's..."

"...Johnny." You sent him a look; your hand instinctively covered his for a moment. "It's all gonna be alright. I'm not like, going to a mission where I'm gonna get another injury" you joked. He didn't take it quite well, considering that he gave you a scolding look.

"Mhm." Soap grumbled, helping you as you moved on to your coat. "Text me if you'll need anythin', bonnie. I mean it. Yer arm good?"

"Good, thank you. I'm gonna remember." You smiled softly, nudging him for goodbye, indicating that he could step down from his protective role. Cody was supposed to pick you up, so there was absolutely nothing for him left to do.

Well, at least you thought this way. His thoughts were a little different, as you saw the moment he escorted you to the exit of your apartment building, leaning against the door, as you were getting into your date's car. Cody even waved to him, but all Johnny did was a slight nod, like he was acknowledging him.

Small win, but a win anyway, you thought.

"Hope he's not your hidden boyfriend or something?" Your old friend looked at you for a second, before taking a turn to the left. "Like, he seems pretty... tense, when he sees me. Like he's protecting something."

You needed a few seconds to process what Cody was implying; and when you understood, you couldn't help but laugh and with disbelief. "No, he's completely harmless. Seriously, it's just... maybe he doesn't take strangers well, you know."

"Does he give strangers a distress hotline number instead of yours, or is it just me?" he grinned, and even then, you could hear the question in his tone, which made you gulp a little. 

Well, if you’d think this way...

"Well. Johnny is... he's..."

Best friend. He's your best friend.

Why couldn't it leave your mouth?

"He's my... Johnny." You eventually said, looking at him. "He's like that, you'd understand after some time. But he's not my hidden boyfriend or something."

"Note taken. Would be awkward, if I'd taken you on a date and didn't know that." He laughed, shaking his head. "He'd probably kill me, huh?"

You laughed at this too, instead of telling him how Soap was already not pleased with you going out with him, and he was only your... best friend, technically. Heaven only knew what would happen if you'd want to meet Cody if you were in a relationship with him.

It was the possessiveness speaking. If anyone wanted to know something about MacTavish, he was possessive about his things. Obsessively so; it was cute when he clutched the Subway's sandwich to his chest from Ghost, when his friend wanted to take a bite. You, of course, had permission to take it (just a little bite since you were a girl), but no one else could. He cared about his things, he didn't let anyone touch his stuff if it had a sentimental matter to him.

The funny thing about it, he was possessive about people too, which sometimes irritated you to the core; he could have multiple friends and all, but you? Oh, he was interrogating the shit out of them, giving you the side eye if they managed to plan something with you before he did. He felt like he came before anyone, no matter what.

Not to mention, he was only like this about guy friends. Like a dog with a bone that's too precious to give to others. Funny thing is, they didn't even flirt with you, and he was acting like they were stealing you from him.

So, it wasn't really surprising when he didn't want to let you go out with Cody, especially that he somehow knew that you two had a history. You were thankful enough he didn't make a scene right in front of him because that would be humiliating.

Especially when your date seemed to be so nice. Not only did he open the car door for you, but also the restaurant's one, and you couldn't help but smile at that little gesture, nodding to him as a silent thank you. What was even better, you loved the place he chose for tonight.

Your old friend had to remember your taste, considering that the Italian restaurant was probably the prettiest building you've seen in a while. A lot of warm lamps around, climatic music that got your attention right when you walked into the room, greeted by an older waiter with a mustache; everything screamed Italy here, and you were taking in the view with pleasure.

"You like it so far?" Cody looked up at you from the menu; his bright, green eyes sparkled with curiosity in dim light. You suddenly felt bad, since you appreciated the effort more than you've probably let him know.

So, you nodded quickly, your painted nails clicking against the table. "Reminds me of this one restaurant back at home. You know, where we went with Stacy and others?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember." He laughed, shaking his head "I remember how Stacy spilled expensive wine on your shirt. Before meeting with your moms, you were pretty pissed back then."

You opened your eyes a little wider at this memory, suddenly remembering it; yeah, Stacy did something like that. What was also important to mention, you were right before an important dinner with your moms and their friends (Price involved), and the tragedy was huge back then. "So, you do remember things, huh?"

"Most of them," he admitted, tilting his head to the side with that boyish charm that he always had. It was something you couldn't really take away from him. "If something is worth remembering, I remember. Mostly situations with you."

It would be a lie if you'd say that dinner didn't go smoothly – because it did. Perfectly, even, knowing how much of a gentleman Cody was, how swiftly he balanced between topics, trying to entertain you. Trying to at least get a glimpse of your life that he didn't get to know since you left your hometown after being deployed and you cut ties with most of your friends. It was something that you liked, something that you adored, knowing he once was interested in you, and you were in him, when you were at high school.

Key words: high school.

As much as you liked him now, you knew it wouldn't work the moment waiter brought your food, and you awkwardly smiled to him, when he bon apetite'd you. Even if he tried to be smug, conversation wasn't effortless like you wanted it to be, you didn't like the way he asked you about your work, implying how it was men's work. Maybe it wasn't evident at first sight, but comments about you ruining your nails and your struggle as the only woman, and everything like that, irritated you.

Maybe it was you being hypersensitive, but you didn't really enjoy comments like this, no matter who it would be.

The chemistry between you two wasn't sparkling as well, and as much as you kept yourself from admitting it, you couldn't brush off a feeling that you would enjoy time with Johnny better. Hell, you were sure that your Scot would make those few hours a lot better. Movies, cooking together, even visiting the gym together... anything.

You felt bad for the thought, when Cody was so nice overall – yet, not nice in a way that would interest you.

"Is that your friend?" You heard him, which brought you back to Earth; he frowned, as he looked behind you. You were sitting right by the window, so he had a pretty clear view on the street.

"Friend?" You raised your eyebrow, amused.

"From earlier on."

You turned around, to see if your date was right; you doubted, really doubted that Cody would see Soap. Your friend was anything but someone that would disturb your date. "I really don't think Johnny..."

Well, Johnny indeed was here, and the thought of him not interrupting your date was completely crushed. You had to give him credit, though; he wasn't that recognizable, you didn't catch him right in the moment. He was in his dark sunglasses and brown cap; if the situation would've been different, you could laugh at how ridiculously similar he looked to all the Marvel characters when they had to hide.

Back then, you balanced on the line between being amused and furious that he didn't respect your time enough with someone else.

Having fun, Johnny?

As you observed him, you saw how quickly he looked around; for a brief moment, you felt like his gaze was on you, and it only confirmed itself when he started typing in his phone again.

dinnae ken what yer talkin about.

"I guess he's just here." You shrugged, lying to him swiftly. "It's the center of the town, yeah? Things... happens."

Cody chuckled, playing with his fork. "Yeah. Yeah. Maybe he is. As long as he doesn't disturb our date, right? It's too nice."

You're a menace to the society, MacTavish; you swiftly typed out under the table. "Yeah. It's too nice." you agreed, even if you thought how interesting it got only because your best friend was outside.

and yer mean: (

You had to hold back a laugh when you've read it; so, you put your phone down and came back to talking with Cody, eating and drinking that delicious wine; you knew you had to buy a bottle after this little adventure. Maybe they didn't sell it, but you were willing to try as soon as the waiter would come with the bill.

It was a personal win for you to come out twenty minutes later out of this restaurant with a bottle in your hand, laughing to your date about something convincing enough to sell it to you. You had to speak with two managers, but it was yours after all, ready to go home with you.

Soap was ready too, even if he acted like he wasn't here; you turned down Cody's proposition of taking you home just to call your best friend to ask where he is exactly, since he disappeared from that bench before you knew it.

"Over the date already? Had to suck, eh?" His eyebrow arched, as he wrapped his arm around your waist. "Sad. But yer sure that lad ain't for you."

"You know," you started, as you grabbed his glasses, just to wear it yourself "if you wouldn't be such a stalker, I'd let you drink wine with me at home. But, now, I have doubts about it."

"Stalker? C'mon. A simple coincidence, that is," he chuckled, as you two walked into his car. "Not my fault you'd rather have me on this date, not him. Can't really blame ya, hen."

You could feel how your face heated up in the moment; maybe if his statement wasn't true, you'd react differently, maybe you would think of a snarky comment. Back then, when you felt exactly like he said, well... It was hard enough.

He seemed to catch the hesitant look at your face, considering how smiley he got. "Oh? Got ye real good, if yer blushin'—"

"—you imagine too much, Johnny, " you mumbled out, as you got more comfortable in your seat, ready to go. "Let's go home, yeah?"

"'st sayin', bonnie. I could have a better date, even at home."

You didn't say anything about his reply. Not because it wasn't true (because it was), not because you were at a loss of words, but because you were conflicted about him and you having a date, when you two were friends. Was he honest, or playing like he always did?

It was just easier to think of it as just banter, ignore it, than actually take him seriously; because if you did and he would have to explain it to you it was just a joke... You were pretty sure that death of embarrassment was gonna happen, honestly. John was too important to you, friendship with him was too important to you to experiment with things like that.

Besides, it wasn't like you two would fit, right? There was a difference between being friends and someone that you could date. Your best friend was great, but as a lover? You didn't know this side of him, you could only guess.

When you finally arrived, you automatically left the car with your head in the clouds. Maybe that's why you haven't even noticed that your best friend was on the other side, trying to open the door for you; and that end up badly, considering that you've hit him with the door.

Low "fuck" snapped you from your thoughts, as well as him holding his nose; you immediately approached him, your expression bashful.

"I'm so sorry, Soap, I—"

"—S'alright." He shook his head, smiling at you like it was nothing. "I've been worse, you know. 'Suppose I deserved that." He nudged you, laughing when you rolled your eyes.

"It wasn't intentional," you groaned, grabbing his arm to start walking with him. "Come on, I'm gonna check it. Just in case."

"Apartment first, ma'am."

So, as soon as you were in the apartment with him, you had to check if nothing was broken – and even if it sounded like a wild thought, breaking a nose in close contact with the car's door, literally everything was possible with Soap, so it was better to be safe than sorry. Wouldn't be the first time that you did something to him without intention of doing it.

Once, when he pretended to be a burglar (he thought it would be funny this way) and he grabbed you from behind in your apartment, you hit him with a flower pot. You laughed afterwards, but you were pretty mad at him in the first ten minutes, trying to find something with ice that would help his headache.

After you checked everything, he seemed to be good. At least, excluding the moment where he thought it would be funny to whine and make you worry, which you smacked him for, but that was just his idiotic side speaking.

This incident though was definitely a lighter one. You've found yourself cleaning his shirt with soap and cold water, since he had a few drops of blood on it, and somehow you felt responsible there wouldn't be any stain left. Soap kept you company even then, shirtless, leaning against the doorframe to have a joke or two about how well you are cleaning blood, suggesting that you have "close connections" with underground fighters.

A simple answer would be period, but you didn't feel like going into that kind of conversation, so you just agreed, telling him he has to book you for the next cleaning. His laugh was everything.

Quickly after this, you were off to sleep, tired with the events of the day; you really needed a good rest, where you'd wrap yourself in the sheets, a warm nest around you. Calm environment, nothing to worry about since you were on leave, and your best friend was in your apartment too, it was the sense of safety here.

Except, your nightmares had a bit different plans than you had.

Ruthless, like they needed to remind themselves, and the worst thing about it was: you lived through every one of them. It wasn't something of your imagination, monsters and creatures that had no place in the real world, no – the realness of it all was scary. The memories you had from missions blended perfectly with events that didn't happen, causing you to have a heart-attack experience.

Nightmares about your team were the worst; where everyone was killed. Where you couldn't do anything but scream; this time, you watched their execution, as every one of your boys were killed right in front of you. Gun wounds, humiliation, where killers wanted them to beg for their life, when they cut the fingers of your comrades just to shoot them afterwards.

And you had to watch all of it, teary-eyed, just begging to stop all this madness.

The worst moment was when royal blue eyes looked right into yours, terrified, with a silent plea in them, hoping that you're gonna be the one to save his life; and the worst thing was, you knew you're gonna fail him. You knew there was nothing you could do to prevent the bloodshed, not when your body refused to move, not when you couldn't even move your finger, nor legs to defend them.

To defend him.

You remembered screaming, when the hope died in his eyes; silent, maybe meaningless words from your side that you're gonna fix all of this, no matter what. How you were the only one alive, and it felt worse than being dead with all of them.

And then, you woke up.

Your breath rapid, shuddery, you had no control over it, as well as you had no control over tears streaming down your face, without you acknowledging the fact of them. The only element that you saw? A pair of blues, looking at you with horror.

Owner of them shook you gently, trying to get you out of the trance you were in; after a minute you were pretty sure that he was talking, but you couldn't really recall what.

You had other things in mind.

"You're alive," you said, breathing out; he seemed shocked at least with your statement, but as he held your hands in his, he nodded quickly.

"Yeah. Yeah, 'm alive. Always will," he whispered. For a moment, the two of you were just looking at each other in silence and breathing. He took as it personal job to ease your nerves, and you could say that he really succeeded at it – the feeling like someone ripped your heart from your chest, slowly but surely vanished. "Better?"

"A bit," you murmured, sighing. You felt kind of bad, even if it wasn't your fault entirely. "I woke you up. I'm so sorry Johnny, I don't even—"

"—sssh. None of that right now, lassie, 'salright." He shook his head, leaning even more in your direction. "Come on. Give me a bosie."

"A bosie?" you chuckled, wiping away your tears. "It's a... hug, or...?"

"It's a hug, aye," he laughed too, wrapping his arms around you tightly – he knew how you liked to be hugged, he knew what you needed back then.

Soap hid his face in your hair, as he caressed your spine softly. He whispered a lot of words back then; soothing ones, encouraging, sweet nothings that made your heart go. How you weren't alone in all of this, how you could always count on him, how he was always gonna be here, no matter what was gonna happen.

All of this, in his arms, slightly rocked back and forth by him, seemed like the sweetest promise ever made, when you listened to his heart, slowly coming back to normal, just like your breath did not long ago. You two had magical influence on each other, you knew, but seeing it in action had you on a chokehold.

If this would be possible, you'd never leave this hug. You were more than happy to stay there with your eyes closed, your arms tightly around him, chin on top of his arm, where you could just smell his scent that somehow calmed you even more.

"'m gonna bring you a glass of water. Then, you're gonna go to sleep, all right?"

You couldn't care less about a glass of water, when you had all you needed in one person.

“Can you... stay?" you asked, slowly, when he started getting out of your bed. Somehow, you felt out of place asking that, but you needed to do this, even if it could seem outward weird to him.

You saw how he froze for a moment, before sitting in your bed again. "Of course."

This wasn't the first time; you once comforted him in bed, you slept next to him on missions just to keep both of you warm, but that was definitely the first time when both of you felt... more intimate. Like it was a change in the air, and after all it was your bed, in your apartment, and you wanted him to be next to you because he brought you comfort.

And because, somehow, it felt like he belonged here.

He spooned you from behind – one of his arms going under your head, so you could easily use it as a pillow if you'd only want, the other around your waist, like he was personally protecting you from anything that could happen to you. His body heat hit you the moment you snuggled more under the sheets. Soap was like a personal heater, ready to do anything to keep you warm.

You were in heaven.

"This will do?" he asked, his voice low. "Is it good for you, lassie?"

"...yeah." You smiled under your nose, when he ruffled your hair with the tips of his fingers, when you laid your head on his arm. "Good."

"Mhm. Sleep now, I'm gonna be here, if you need me." He kissed the back of your head, and from that gesture alone, you just knew for a fact that he was smiling too. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know. Love you too."

And for the first time, it felt a bit different from "I love you" than usual.

[hoshigray]

Choso would be the type of guy that gets flustered by kisses yet loves the feeling of your lips on his. I can see him as the type of guy who looks stoic and isolated on the outside. But an adorable and nervous wreck when you hang with him. Cw: Choso x reader - neutral roles but implied slight dom!reader - mostly fluff, but it ends a lil' suggestive - lots of kisses - a bit of spit/drool on Choso's part - domestic scene - pet name (you call Choso "babe" and "honey"). Wc: 953

He's lying on the couch reading a book that sparked his interest. His head is cushioned comfortably on the pillow by the armrest. Enters you, and you smile once you see him so focused on the pages that have his attention.

"Hey, babe~" Your lovely voice immediately has him turn his face toward you. He places the book on his chest, the last read contents opened for later.

"Hello," he greets you in his hushed speech, his eyes following you as you kneel beside his side of the couch.

"Whatcha doin'?" You ask, your fingers playing with the strands of hair that decorate his forehead.

Choso slowly blinks at you, his eyes still harboring the faint color of exhaustion that contrast his sharp feline-like eyes. "Reading." He always gives a simple reply to you, but you know it's because he gets easily flustered when it's just the two of you. It's adorable.

"Oh yeah?" Your hands gently slide to the side of his face, caressing his cheek that you see painted light pink on his pale skin. "I thought I'd find you sleeping."

"I was going to." Choso averts his eyes away from you, again flustered at your attentiveness. "I thought I could wait for you, so we can nap together since I know you had a busy day."

You squeal at his consideration, the blush on his face grows one shade darker, and his eyes are still away from you. "You're so sweet, Choso. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He doesn't say anything, just closes his eyes and hums as he slowly sinks into the warmth of your hand.

He looks so pretty like this. Your eyes trace every feature, from the strands of his black hair brushing his forehead to the beautiful lashes of his eyes. The blood mark across his face connects the pinky hues of his cheeks.

Your eyes then fall to his lips, the softness of them so inviting it has you leaning in closer, placing yours onto his and enjoying this tender moment.

When you draw back, his eyes are instantly open. Wide and doe as they take in your appearance, the blush is tenfold deeper than before, and you just want to take a picture of how cute he is. But you won't because he'll melt in embarrassment. Although that would be funny to look at.

You giggle. "I'm sorry, the moment just felt right."

"No," he's quick to reassure you, his eyes moving downwards to your lips. You notice, of course, a smile creeping up at his little peak.

"Want another one, honey?"

Choso bites a tiny bit of his bottom lip, but his eyes still hone in on your lips. You giggle again, patiently waiting for his response. His eyes squint a tad, and the mood of lust behind them slowly starts to bloom.

"Yes."

You beam at him, and you lean forward again.

Your lips are in contact briefly, but the love is equally exchanged. You break the kiss again. He hesitantly asks for another.

You kiss him again. Choso moans for another.

Then you kiss him again. And again, and again...

You stop him from asking for permission as you snake your other hand to cup his face closer to you, and he pushes himself up for a more comfortable position.

The two of you kiss for what feels like forever. The sound of your lips smacking together fill the room with a romantic warmth. The heat in your lower region feels delightful anytime he groans into your mouth, moaning into his as his kisses get more passionate.

And, oh, poor Choso. He can't get enough of you. It wouldn't be impossible for him to be lost in your soft smooches. He gestures his arm in your direction, his hand finding purchase on the back of your neck. He doesn't pull you in deeper, but it's a silent proposal meaning he doesn't want you to leave his side.

However, that declaration vanishes into thin air when the two of you hear a sudden bang on the floor. You look down to see it's Choso's book, now closed with the page he saved needing to be found again.

The laugh you let out is so out of breath, but it sounds so intoxicating to Choso. You pick up his book and place it on his chest, then you turn to spot a tent in his dark grey sweatpants.

Choso follows your eyes to his boner, and he freezes. His ears are now tinted in pink, and his blood mark is dripping. You look at him and chuckle lovingly, rubbing his warm cheeks and wiping the tiny bit of spit that hides at the bottom of his lips.

"I'm so sorry," you move some strands to place a kiss on his forehead, then you get up from the floor and exit to your shared room. "I'll let you finish your reading~."

The teasing spirit of your voice still rings in Choso's ears, who lays his head back down on the couch pillow. His face feels so hot and exposed from the room lights, so he uses the book to cover it up and wallow in his shameful thoughts.

Your lips are all he can think about. They felt so soft and plump on top of his, and how he wished to have them kiss him everywhere. His neck and clavicle, his chest, to his stomach. And maybe, have the soft feeling around his...

Choso groans at the mental picture, realizing how little you can do to make him act like this. There is no doubt in his mind that you will make him shut down, and he doesn't oppose this truth.

[fanfiction4sooya]

I'll be your sweet dream (Perv Heejin x F!R)

Someone made a request for a Heejin story and here I am!! Hope you like it, luv!

tw: yandere heejin, gaslighting, noncon, dubcon, fingering, swearing, boob slapping, scissoring, face sitting (r receiving), oral sex, drugging, etc. These themes are enjoyable only for literature, not real life.

Minors and men do NOT interact.

🌸🌸-

You haven't noticed it at first. Jeon Heejin was just a pretty girl that had moved in to the apartment in front of yours. She was not openly friendly or unfriendly, just very very mysterious. That was kind of sad, because you really wanted to be friends with her but she was just so closed off that it seemed impossible.

Until that one night that changed everything.

You heard a faint knock on the door, but you were not really waiting for any visits. Not putting too much thought into it, you answered on your usual cheerful tone.

"Hello" You heard her voice for the very first time and something immediately felt off. Brushing it off,you cleared your throat.

"Hi!" You said, noticing her quick up and down check on you.

"Uhm, I just came to introduce myself" She scratched her nape, kind of embarrassed. "Sorry I haven't done that before, I'm just very socially awkward" Her voice, her fucking voice... low and deep, such a contrast with that angel face of hers.

"Oh no, it's fine" You said, a bit more at ease. If you liked women, that was definitely one you would feel attracted to, you thought.

"Well I'm Jeon Heejin" She smiled at you, her eyes sparkled in a beautifully dangerous way. She gave you a box of sweets and a teddy bear. "These are for you..."

"Oh my god!" You were so off guard it was funny. "You didn't have to..." You scooped through the box, those were your favorite things to eat. "You are so sweet, thank you very much" She smiled, looking at her feet. "You wanna come in?" You said and she shook her head.

"Oh, I would love to but I have some things to do in the apartment... maybe another day?" She shrugged and you happily nodded, your eyes locked on hers.

You bid your goodbyes and both of you went inside. That night you slept like an angel,those chocolates were delicious and you were just happy to make a friend.

What you were not really understanding was how you slept on your underwear and woke up without it. You were sure you slept with them on, but decided to brush it off.

Weeks went by and you and Heejin became closer and closer, often hanging out at your apartment, cooking and watching movies. She was very friendly, but often you caught her staring at you when she thought you weren't looking. That caught you off guard, but maybe that was just how she was with her friends.

She was very careful and attentive, always feeding you or giving you things to eat. You felt grateful for her and for how she cared for you. She was like a big heavy clous, ready to block the sun out of your eyes.

You started to dream more and more about Heejin, often after you guys hang out. Almost always the same dream, only a few things would change. It was always her between your legs licking you, or maybe her pinching your nipples, kissing your neck or just smiling, taking pictures of you.

You started to feel uneasy, the feeling of something bad happening started to kick in like a survival instinct. You called one of your friends to say that and they thought it was weird how some of your clothes were disappearing and you were sore after waking up. You felt yourself go mad, but even when they indulged your ideas your friends didn't seem to believe you. She was the only one you could really tell, even if the weird dreams were about her.

"You think something is happening?" Heejin asked you, sitting on your couch. "Are you suspecting anyone?"

"No..." You were resting your head on her shoulder, curled up beside her. "Not really, I think I'm just going insane" You closed your eyes and Heejin gave you a pat to the head.

"Don't worry..." She said. "I am here to protect you, nothing is going to happen" You smiled, hugging her arm with a bit more force. "Here, eat this. Maybe it will help you relax" She gave you only one chocolate this time, differently from the other days.

"I'll go out with some friends tonight, but feel free to call me at anytime and I'll come back running" She got up, kissing your forehead. "I love you, don't ever forget that..."

You smiled at her when she went through the door, nuzzling to your blanket and watching something on the tv. You were in fact feeling very sleepy and much more calm after she left, so you just went to bed, almost immediately falling asleep.

One of those dreams again.

Heejin kissing your mound, both hands holding your thighs spread open as she lavished on your wetness and smell; Her tongue entered your intimacy and you heard yourself moan, her hot tongue going up and down. Only this time it felt real. The room was spinning and you felt your mouth dry. You tried getting up, but your body felt heavy. 'mmph' Was all you could utter.

"Oh, hi..." Her eyes were glimmering, her mouth and chin wet as she smiled up at you. She got up to your eye level. "I see you didn't wait for me to sleep baby, but it's okay" She kissed your cheek as despair started to kick in. "I'm helping myself..." She caressed your face.

"Heejin..." You weakly said as she went back to what she was doing before. "What... how?"

She kissed your clit and you felt your body jolt weakly, her tongue felt hot and slippery against your core. You moaned again, closing your eyes and trying to grab her hair to push her away but failed. She was much more strong and you were dizzy. Tears started to pool in your eyes as she started moaning against your core, you shook your head but that sensation was too strong.

"Fuck baby, you are so wet" She was quick to pluck one finger inside you, your glossy eyes looking down at her as you tried to say anything as she added one more. Curling her fingers, she smiled as your hips started to shyly roll against her face. "I knew you would love what I am doing baby, I knew it since the day you first looked at me"

Her fingers were relentless, now two at once. She pulled your sleeping shirt over your breasts to suck on them as you tried to push her, your eyes rolling back as she pumped them in and out fast, the wet sounds could be heard by far.

"fuck" you mumbled under your breath, shaking.

The feeling of being taken by her fingers was so conflicting, yet so good. You knew what she was doing was wrong, but at the same time felt so, so divine.

Her lips invaded your mouth, licking every single corner of it as you closed your eyes, just letting her do to you whatever she wanted, tears spilling from your eyes and moans pouring from your mouth to hers.

"I love you so fucking much" She said through gritted teeth, biting your neck. You whimpered, limp. "You are mine baby, even if I have to take you like this every night" She said on your ear and you shivered.

Suddenly she took her fingers off of you, taking her panties off and climbing on your face. You tried to avoid her pulsing cunt, but she held your face in place, placing her needy intimacy directly onto your mouth.

"stay in place" She said, her voice lower and so scary. "I'm gonna fuck your pretty face baby, oh fuck" She started humping your face, moaning loudly when she rubbed her clit against your nose and her slit against your mouth. "I've been doing this every night baby, but having you moan into me is so much better" She closed her eyes, biting her lips as you shyly put your tongue out to lick her. "Oh yes, yes" She grunted, holding your hair and almost suffocating you. "It feels so good baby, you are my precious fuck doll..." Her clit was big ans pulsed every time you hummed against it.

At first you really tried to fight the urge of eating her out, but failed miserably. That was feeling good, so good.

You swallowed her juices in a pussy drunk haze, moaning against her cunt when she reached her arm back to finger you again. It hurt and you tried to hold her muscly arm, but she was much stronger.

"Take it baby, I know you want to" She was humping harder and fucking you even harder than that, your moans and hers mixing up in such way that you knew the whole building knew you two were fucking. You came screaming, scratching her milky arm as she did the same to your bed frame, scratching it and squirting on your mouth.

She got off of you, immediately holding your neck to lick your face as you swallowed her cum. You looked so fucked out with your eyes red, tears drying on your skin and your mouth glistening with her juices, but she didn't care. In fact, that turned her on even more.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me baby, you are too smart for that" She went down, licking your cum from your puffy cunt and humming in the happiest of ways. "You tried so hard to deny baby, but you love me too, don't you?" Her smile was so creepy and her eyes almost bored holes into your skin as she placed herself between your legs, her clit touching yours.

"god" You managed to say when she thrust her hips forward for the first time.

"I'm going to mark you up so good baby, everyone is going to know you are mine" She kept that pace, your overstimulated pussy aching and burning as you tried to push her, shaking your head.

"heejin-a" you cried out, sobbing when she slapped your breasts and you almost came instantly and she did it again and again, that pain making your head spin. "T-too good, oh fuck"

"I was being so careful before baby, but you are so smart" She moaned when your tits bounced as she kept the hard thrusts, you were both so wet it was easy to slide against each other. "That's why today I gave you just one small portion of my sleeping pill, sweetie." She grunted, staring at your pussies grinding together. "Fuck, you woke up to see the best part" She said, spitting on your cunt to keep on her relentless pace. She held your leg tighter and you tried to keep your eyes open but it was too much.

Her eyebrows knit together as she came again, squirting all over you as you did the same, but this time weakly.

She fully stopped, her hair tossed on her sweaty skin as she huffed and tried to regain her composure. She hopped off of you, getting her phone and snapping a pic of your used body, your swollen pussy fully on display. She smiled taking pictures of your face, your hooded eyes and how wet with her cum she left you.

She lowered her body, kissing your lips and smiling as she put your hair behind your ear, slipping something inside your mouth and holding it to make sure you swallowed.

"I knew you would feel good, my love. I'm the only one that can make you feel good like this..." She kissed you deeply for what felt like hours, slowly humping your tummy and you could only whimper, feeling sleepy again. "Sweet dreams, baby..." Her voice sounded distant, almost as if she wasn't there anymore...

🌸🌸🌸

You sat up fast looking around for Heejin, covering your body as you tried to get up. Your body felt sore, so you went straight to the mirror looking for anything. A hickey, bite mark, something that would make all of this make sense.

Nothing. You were the same and looked the same.

You looked around the house and it was impeccable, just like you left when you went to bed the night before. You went straight to Heejin's door, banging on it like you worked ten years on the police force and Heejin opened it, her eyes wide and her hair messy as if she just got up. Which she did.

"Hey, hey" She held your wrist in the air, pulling you in for a tight hug to make you realize what you were doing. "What happened? What's going on?" She stepped back a bit, still lightly holding your hand.

"I feel like I'm going mad..." You started crying, falling to your knees and she did the same to hold you. "I don't know what's going on, I'm doubting my own mind and you..." You sobbed staring at her innocent eyes and she comforted you, patting your head.

"No no, don't say that..." She caressed your face, her eyes worried and her tone soft. "Maybe there's something really going on, you never know" She hugged you and you felt loved, safe. You knew she would never hurt you and she was the only one there for you when all your paranoid statements made less and less sense.

"Can you stay with me today?" You sniffled and she nodded, taking a deep breath. "I can't be alone, I think I might go crazy..."

"Of course my love, of course" She kissed your forehead and hugged you, taking in your smell. As long as you want me to" She hugged you tighter, feeling your boobs pressed against hers. "Until I'm sure you are having sweet dreams, baby"

She whispered, her dark smile hidden when you hugged her even tighter to feel the comforting warmth that came from her body...

[mering]

letter: dear mer i watched all your lifesteal animatics/animations on youtube (2 of which id never seen before) during a watchparty with some friends a couple days ago. they were awesome and im still thinking about certain parts of them. particularly the movement of vitalasys hands in gash on the cheek after being stabbed, noticing your vitalasy design has a fox muzzle mask(!!!) in even the dogs, and. the entirety of luddites & lambs. the blocks. well i giggled but i quite enjoyed the zam & subz boat scene inclusion & the dramatic shot of block subz on block hors. your shot composition and camera movement is really inspiring and clean even in your unfinished works. ok aaaand signed xoxoxo🪲

THANK YOUUUU <3333333333 i'm glad the hand movement in gash on the cheek stuck with you ^w^ i really like animating pov shots of hands because it's crazy easy to reference. on account of you can just look down. which means i can get subtler movement that feels pretty natural...

my vitalasy went through a lot of iterations. mask makes sense because he's defined by trying to control how he's perceived, but i like the maskless face because it means you will always see his emotions. here's a sketch from around the same time i made even the dogs & a quick attempt at how it would look on my current vitalasy:

luddites & lambs was one of my very first ever attempts at lifesteal fanart (almost exactly a year ago to the day ? wow...) and i can't remember what exactly possessed me to do it blockstyle. i think in part it was because that meant i didn't have to worry about character/set design at all. and because i was so immediately taken with how lifesteal is unequivocally a story about minecraft and how the game functions that not literally representing that felt like it was losing something. plus it maintains the tone of the thing as funny and a little absurd.

which makes the contrast between luddites & lambs and gash on the cheek really funny because you can see how dramatically the way i thought about it all changed over time. when i did luddites & lambs i was still in the process of watching through season 4, which is why it's focused on castle arc/leviathan/early eclipse. but in late s4, while it's still about the game, there is suddenly so much more of a human element. like, straight up drawing the cubes invokes the idea that it's a game with people playing it but you don't see the people, and at a certain point it started feeling like you had to see the people in order to accurately represent the emotional stuff that happens, when gameplay itself becomes so secondary to any of the most important parts of the story. you can draw cubes fighting each other but you can't really draw cubes displaying subtle body language

[vilentia]

Canvas of Love

Thor x reader

Summary: a fleeting shadow of jealousy tests the unyielding bond of two intertwined souls.

****

The storm outside mirrored the tempest in your heart as you sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the rain streaking down your window. It had been a rough day, one that felt heavier because Thor wasn’t there to share the burden. He was away on a mission with the Avengers, something about a rogue Asgardian artifact that needed retrieving.

You missed him, more than you cared to admit. His absence left a gaping void in your life, a void you tried filling with work and friends, but nothing seemed to work.

It was on one of these lonely evenings that you met Alex. He was charming, funny, and most importantly, he was there. You two had hit it off instantly, and soon enough, he became a regular part of your life. A good friend, you reminded yourself. Just a friend.

Thor knew about Alex, of course. You'd mentioned him casually in your conversations. But what you hadn’t mentioned was how much time you were spending with him. It wasn’t intentional; it just never came up. Or maybe you were afraid of how Thor would react.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your reverie. It was a message from Thor: “My love, I will be home tomorrow. I have missed you dearly.”

You smiled, a warm flutter in your heart. You typed a quick reply and set the phone aside, your thoughts drifting back to Alex. He had invited you to his art exhibition tomorrow. You were looking forward to it, but now Thor was coming home...

The conflict in your mind was like a knot, tightening with every passing moment.

Thor arrived the next day, his presence filling the apartment instantly. He was like a force of nature—strong, vibrant, and utterly captivating. You ran into his arms, the familiar scent of him enveloping you, bringing an instant sense of peace.

“I missed you,” you murmured against his chest.

“And I, you,” Thor replied, his voice a deep rumble. He pulled back, looking at you with those intense blue eyes. “Tell me about your week. Did anything interesting happen?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering. “It was the usual. Work, home... Oh, and I’m going to Alex’s art exhibition tonight. He’s really excited about it.”

Thor’s expression changed subtly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he masked it with a smile. “That sounds delightful. Would you mind if I join you?”

The question caught you off guard. “Of course not! I’d love for you to come.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Thor was his usual self, loving and attentive, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss.

The exhibition was lively, the gallery buzzing with the chatter of the city's art enthusiasts. Alex’s work was the center of attention—vibrant, abstract pieces that spoke of passion and chaos.

“Your friend is very talented,” Thor commented as you both stood before a particularly striking canvas.

“He is,” you agreed, watching Alex interact with the guests. He hadn’t seen you yet.

Just then, Alex spotted you and made his way over, his face lighting up. “You made it!” He hugged you, a little too long, a little too close.

Thor’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he extended his hand. “I am Thor. It is a pleasure to meet the man behind these extraordinary works.”

Alex shook his hand, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “Thanks, man. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

The evening progressed, but the tension between Thor and Alex was palpable. You tried to ease the atmosphere, laughing a little too loudly at jokes, and engaging in conversations a bit too enthusiastically.

As the night wound down, Thor’s mood seemed to darken. You couldn’t take it anymore. “Do you want to go home?” you asked.

Thor nodded, and you both excused yourselves.

The walk home was quiet, the silence a stark contrast to the noisy streets around you. You could feel Thor’s turmoil, his usually calm demeanor now a stormy sea.

Once inside, Thor finally spoke. “Do you have feelings for him?”

His question was direct, his voice steady but laced with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Was it...jealousy?

“No, Thor, of course not. He’s just a friend,” you replied, your voice earnest.

Thor looked at you, his gaze searching. “I trust you, but tonight, seeing you with him... it stirred something within me. A feeling I have not known before.”

You moved closer, taking his hand in yours. “Thor, you have nothing to worry about. I love you. Only you.”

There was a vulnerability in Thor’s eyes that you had never seen before. He was a god, a warrior, but in that moment, he was just a man, in love and afraid of losing you.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I know, my love. It is I who must apologize. My reaction was unwarranted. You have given me no reason to doubt your love.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love for this extraordinary man who had become your world. “It’s okay, Thor. I understand. But know this, no matter who comes into my life, you will always be the one I choose. Every time.”

Thor kissed you then, a kiss that spoke of love, trust, and a promise of forever. In his arms, you felt safe, loved, and home.

The next few days were blissful, as if the incident at the gallery had never happened. Thor was more attentive, more present, and you felt your bond strengthen.

You decided to talk to Alex, to set boundaries, to make sure he understood that your relationship was strictly platonic. Alex took it well, understanding and apologetic.

As you lay in bed that night, Thor’s arms wrapped around you, you realized how lucky you were. Love, true love, was hard to find, and you had found it with Thor. He was more than a partner; he was your best friend, your confidant, your home.

“You are everything to me,” Thor whispered, as if reading your thoughts.

“And you are my everything,” you whispered back, snuggling closer.

In that moment, everything felt perfect. The past was behind you, and the future was a canvas waiting to be painted, bright and full of love.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you knew that no matter what life threw at you, as long as you had each other, everything would be alright.

[magicalbats]

Penance (Suguru x Reader)

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 8962

Warnings: afab!reader, hamfisted religious themes, rimming, ass eating as punishment, themes of humiliation/degradation/ objectification, some gendered language, reader is not privileged with an orgasm (rip)

A/N: I spent some time going through my WIPs tonight and after giving this one a quick proof read I decided to just go ahead and post it. I have, no joke, been sitting on it since 2021. lmao I think it might be time.

⭐

“That’s a rather sharp tongue you’ve got, isn’t it?” Suguru’s voice is soft and pointed, all understated elegance and quiet laughter that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He extends one long hand towards you; curls the fingers under your chin and tilts your face up with a deceptively gentle nudge so you have no choice but to look directly at him. 

There is nothing soft about the expression staring back at you, even for as placid as it is. The tension pulling at the corner of his mouth gives his small smile a razor's edge, so indescribably minuscule you would have missed it had you not been sitting so close and that was to say absolutely nothing of the forged steel glint in his dark irises. It was funny, almost. That he should accuse you of having a sharp tongue when he was all carefully filed edges and beautifully cast steel that had survived hundreds of blazing infernos just to become the living embodiment of an executioner's sword looming over you in the here and now. 

He was the judge, the jury and the butcher all wrapped into one neat, perfectly coiffed package with a smile and a kind word to spare, and you would have followed him to any stretch of this world or the next for even a sliver of that double edged approval. Even knowing the danger he posed to you and everyone like you, his subtle threats so politely concealed yet plain as day to anyone who paid enough attention. Even knowing how lethal his very existence was, you would still willfully lay yourself across that altar and fulfill your role as the sacrificial lamb he always seemed to be searching for. 

No, not in spite of it. 

Because of it. 

Faintly humming as if in thought, he turns your face this way and that, still with the tips of his fingers touching the spot under your chin just so. It’s a featherlight mockery of suggestion rather than outright demand but you obediently follow the motion as if there were magnets stuck in your skin, guiding you where his hand was not. Silently, you beg the blood that pounds wildly in your ears to subside so you can hang onto every word that drips from his poisoned mouth unhindered. 

“You know … I’m inclined to say it’s not very ladylike, especially for someone of your impeccable breeding, but. Well.” A pause while he studies your profile in silent contemplation before finally directing your attention back around with a brief, lingering tap that makes you swallow. “I suppose it’s not entirely without its charm. That being said, I do believe there are some better uses we could put it to that don’t involve lashing out at others, hm? Wouldn’t you agree?” 

You shrivel under his guillotine stare as well as the sweetly posed question that seems to cut you straight to the bone. It makes you wither like a once succulent rose that had been cruelly denied sunlight and water, and air itself with which to survive. This was not the way someone should be speaking to a grown woman. Neither was this the way a grown woman should allow herself to be spoken to. It was condescension in its purest, most vile form - or, at least, you’re quite certain that’s what it is. 

Suguru’s kind, agreeable demeanor and his honeyed tone of voice make it hard to tell sometimes. The stark contrast between one and the other and the next leaves you reeling; intoxicated beyond all measure off nothing more than just his mere presence and its bold study in broad strokes of contradiction. You were regretfully helpless before it though. Eager to have those arsenic dipped words aimed at you for the vindicating thrill of it as much as you shied away from it, fearing their burning sting. 

“I’m sorry …” It’s all you can think to say. 

His expression shifts and the threadbare tension fades. But rather than softening at your mouse squeak apology it only grows sharper with the hard lines of put upon pity that slither across his face like a stretching, clawing shadow. It comes in the form of a stilted upward draw of his brows to accompany the cooing pucker of damnably kissable lips. If you didn’t know any better you could almost convince yourself that he was looking upon a contemptible stray or a particularly unfortunate child rather than at you. Certainly not you, with all your money and the posh upbringing you’d enjoyed by virtue of your well to-do parents and their considerable sway in the world of politics. Your top rated education, your impressive track record of boyfriends, each more affluent than the last. The shiny new car you’d abandoned in favor of coming here right along with everything else from your past life, even the expensive jewelry you were in the habit of buying for yourself just because. 

These were the things that made people look at you in envy, not ignominious disregard. No one had ever stared you down quite like this before and that, too, makes you wither from the inside out as much as it has your gut twisting with a surge of molten heat. This was not the way a grown woman of your social standing was supposed to react to being degraded, verbally or otherwise. You knew that as much as you knew the back of your own hand. But you only lean towards him as if seeking out the warmth of the sun you’d been so long denied rather than scuttling away as you probably should have. 

Would have, if you were only just a little bit smarter. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, feeling like you owed him that and so much more. 

“Whatever do you have to apologize for, love? I said it wasn’t without its charm, didn’t I?” 

Tilting his head, Suguru gives your chin another soft tap as if to encourage you but it has the opposite effect of making your bottom lip warble. Something white hot and steely flashes behind his eyes, and he tips closer until the end of his nose stops just short of touching yours. Those long fingers remain a steady, unforgiving knife on your jugular throughout it all. 

“Oh, but don’t fret now. There’s no reason for tears, is there? You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?” 

You wonder, idly, if this is some kind of trap. 

In the same breath you decide that this is most certainly a trap. No doubt about it, but you find yourself sadly nodding along with him all the same. He pulls you into it, guides the motion out of you just as a master puppeteer might manipulate his hollow wooden dolls, and you’re happy to go along with it, as with anything else, so long as he keeps looking at you like that. 

“I know, darling. I know you are. You try your best to be good, don’t you? That mouth of yours is what gets you into trouble, isn’t it?”

Another nod, and this time you can’t seem to stop the tears from tracking hot streaks down your burning face. You were flushed in shame and something not far off from excitement, equally torn between the two. Uncertain if you should preen under the blazing spotlight of his attention, as natural inclination would dictate, or the groveling, desperate urge in your higher functioning mind to rectify your mistakes so he wouldn’t be upset with you anymore.

The latter wins out quickly enough. It always does, particularly when his sugar coated reprimands make you feel so infantile and pathetic. Just as small and meaningless as a chewed up wad of gum stuck to the sidewalk. You were willing to do anything to earn your spot back in his good graces again. Anything. 

Clearly seeing what he was looking for now, Suguru’s smile slides back into place with a staggeringly slow curl across the line of his mouth. It’s somehow even sharper this time, and you’re almost blinded by the glint of a blade bathed in sunlight. 

“There, there. I understand. Really, I do. Your tongue just doesn’t know any better, does it?” 

You suck in a wet, faltering breath. “No …” 

His lashes droop to an almost seductive half lidded state, promising the absolution of eternal rest as much as the dizzying, unspeakable heights of carnal pleasure he could bring you. Drawing a carefully tempered breath that seems to steal the air from your lungs, he slides his hand out from under your chin and reaches up to wipe the tears off one cheek with a lingering swipe of his thumb. He pauses then, for just a moment, while he studies your face before sedately reaching around to repeat the process on the other side. 

“Don’t you think we should give it something more productive to do then?” 

It's barely more than a whisper, intended for your ears only in an otherwise empty, cavernous, sparsely furnished room that was so horribly still and quiet you would almost believe only the dead walked here. 

And you shudder for him - tremble and shake like some small, frightened creature caught under the talons of an incomprehensibly vicious monster. There was close to nothing you would not do for him, no humiliation you wouldn’t endure for his sake and his sake alone. You’d happily let him make an example out of you and mould you into the idyllic martyr he seemed to want so bad. It was a blessing coming from him, and you warm with the rush of helium in your chest that swells at being chosen by the god of sharp edges and black silk. 

“Please tell me what to do, Geto-sama. Please.” 

“Hush,” He mouths the word like a prayer. “I have just the thing in mind. You’ll do it for me, won’t you?”

“Yes. Anything.” That was very much the truth. 

A pleased exhale from him teases the flyaways in your hair and Suguru’s hand retreats, making you whimper at the loss of contact. Instinctively you try to follow, tipping forward on your knees so far that you almost lose balance, but he only pins you with an amused look of warning as he reclines back against his plush throne of pillows. Still so sharp and jagged, even at ease, and you watch him get settled in rapt fascination, unsure what he would have of you. 

You were eager to learn though, and the serrated glint in his eye never strays from your face, ensuring you don’t look away as he reaches down to grab at the bulk of his robe and tug at it. Pulls the heavy fabric up, up, up with a quiet slither and an almost coquettish flourish to accompany it. 

Slowly, more and more of him is revealed to your voracious gaze — much more than you would have ever dreamed yourself worthy of looking upon — and your throat goes bone dry when you realize he’s much more sturdy than the shapeless robe would have had you believe. Almost sickeningly so, and the unbearable heat that spears through you almost bowls you over on the spot. 

Nicely shaped calves that speak of an active life outside this temple, outside of this role he's taken here on these hallowed grounds, lead the way up to a pair of well defined thighs, beautiful in their muscle heavy composition. It’s perfectly scandalous in its own right to have him baring himself at you like this but he doesn’t stop there and instead drags one corner of the garment even higher, teasing you with a glimpse of his smooth hip. The realization that he’s not wearing anything underneath makes you sway on the spot, well and truly lightheaded now. 

“G - Geto-sama, I - -“ 

“What’s the matter, love?” He cuts across you in a tone that hits its mark like the lethal swing of a battle sword, rendering you immediately and irreparably mute. “I’m certain you just said you would do anything. Or was I mistaken?” 

You hesitate. 

You clench your clammy hands into tight fists. 

You don’t know what to do, how to react. What to say. 

The world itself seems to stand still as you surreptitiously glance at the spot between his legs with brazen, boldfaced interest, unable to conceal it even if you tried. That part of him is still obscured by the pool of fabric gathered in his lap, however, and he laughs at the eager look of apprehension in your expression. Light and airy, and so horribly cruel you feel the prick of fresh tears in your eyes again. 

“Not that, I’m afraid. That’s only for good girls who don’t need to have their behavior corrected. You really should know that by now.”

You feel the hurt of that deep in your bones and it leaves behind a throbbing ache as if he’d ruthlessly brought a harsh leather strap down across your back. He may as well have done just that for as much anguish it causes, how cleanly it slices despite his voice maintaining its ever pleasant intonation, and you implore him with a wet, wide eyed look. If not that then what? 

But Suguru only inclines his chin in lieu of a proper response, inviting you to keep your eyes on him. To keep watching as he decorously turns over onto his side and then further over onto his front with the topmost leg splaying out from his body at a wide arch. He cranes his neck around to look back at you over his shoulder then, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. 

Both because you’d never seen him look at anyone with the same tawdry, undeniably flirtatious little smirk that he gives you and because your scrambled brain was already starting to connect the dots. You weren’t stupid. You may have been willfully, happily dumb and malleable for him but you weren’t stupid, once you got right down to it, and yet you can’t find the presence of mind to protest. Nor do you manage the wherewithal needed to argue against what you already knew was coming. Your heartbeat pounds a wild rhythm against your rib cage, threatening to burst right out of you as he brings his hand down to hike the back of his robe up in similar fashion to the front, teasing you with it. 

The curvy backs of his thighs are just as enticing and you voraciously soak them up, admiring the smooth, flawlessly warm tone of his skin while you let them draw your attention straight up to the meat of his ass. It’s tight and narrow, as most men’s are, but unexpectedly soft looking in texture. Just plump enough to offer something to squeeze and hold on to. It gives the impression of being the only part of his body with any real cushion, completely lacking in any of the sharp angles you see in his face and his hands. 

You swallow so hard you audibly choke on it. 

Even having already surmised what his intention was, you still struggle to wrap your head around the reality of it staring back at you. The embarrassment is felt almost as sharply as the humiliation, but neither quite compare to the nauseating spike of arousal that rips through you with all the destructive force of a lightning strike to wreak havoc on you from head to toe. You were far more horrified by that than of what he was offering you. What he was asking you to do, and your lungs painfully hitch with the ragged breath you suck in. 

Your willingness to do it was one thing. Something you could easily overlook as being for his sake. His benefit. His enjoyment. There was no low you weren’t prepared to degrade yourself to as long as it was for him. Always him. But to derive genuine pleasure from an act so demeaning? So inherently disrespectful to you as a woman, and also as a person. As a fellow human being. What was so wrong with you, on a fundamental level, that even such as this would turn you on? 

But, you remind yourself, Suguru was not so much a man as he was a god. Something that existed far above the banalities of humanity no matter how polite or agreeable he might look. 

And he exudes all that and so much more even as he reaches around to smooth a big hand over the swell of one cheek, digging his fingertips in just enough for you to see the dimples it creates in the skin. Showing you exactly how right you’d been about it’s plushy give and further mortifying you in the process. You never would have guessed his build to be this stocky when the usual robes he donned hung so loose and unassuming around him, thoroughly concealing his figure from prying eyes such as yours, but you were sure to never forget now that you’d borne witness to it yourself. The shape of him was forever burned into the backs of your eyelids like a brand. At the very least you were sure to never again know a restful night's sleep for however long you might live. 

“Come now, darling. You won’t get anything done sitting over there, will you?” He purrs, his sly smirk growing when you only sit there, frozen to the spot. A marble statue prostrated at the foot of his altar. “Or have I asked too much of you, hm?” 

Mechanically, you drag your attention up to his face and Suguru immediately chortles at the vacancy staring back at him. 

“My, could it be you simply don’t understand? Shall I spell it out for you then?” 

Your stomach and your pussy both clench in tandem when he purses his lips, cooing at you again, just like before. Belittling condescension oozes from every pore in his body as he tips his head further back, resembling a playful pinup model spread out for a particularly risqué photo shoot and your gaze quickly drops back down to zero in on the savory way he cups his own ass. With a stilted sigh of anticipation he pulls, dragging one cheek from the other until you’re afforded a straight, uninterrupted view of the tight wrinkle of his hole, the gentle curve of his taint directly below it and the silken weight of his ballsack where it’s settled against the cushions. You can’t see his cock like this — can’t tell if he’s hard or flaccid, and you aren’t sure which would have been better worse — but you practically swoon at the thought of it being trapped between his stomach and the pillows he’d laid himself out on. 

He clearly sees the disoriented look of shock on your face yet he pays it no mind. Doesn’t give you a chance to recover, to get your thoughts sorted out as he shifts and draws his splayed knee higher up on the floor. Keeps his body spread open for you when he curls his hand inward and directs your frazzled attention to the pink pucker with a light, almost playful tap of his fingertips. 

“Right here.” He tells you, all sultry smooth and eternally damning. “Your tongue will do quite nicely, I think. It’s certainly better suited to this than starting pointless arguments, anyway.” 

You think he’s probably right about that. He has to be, because he’s Geto Suguru. The man you’ve decided to follow until death do you part, the very light of your life. The apple of your eye. The fire that burns and smolders, even now, in the deepest, darkest recesses of your curling loins. There’s no way someone such as him, with all his hard edges and jagged points thinly concealed under the serene placidity of the Buddha himself — surely someone like that can’t be wrong about anything but least of all this. 

Your arousal, too, cannot be wrong for that reason alone, so you numbly shuffle forward. Drag yourself across the tatami to close the small distance which suddenly feels like a great chasm separating you from him. And Suguru watches on with an inferno that threatens to set you ablaze raging behind his dark irises. You can see the suspense, the twisted excitement curling just under the surface as if it were a living, breathing, all too tangible serpent housed under his skin. So real you could almost reach out and touch it, if you dared. 

You don’t, of course. Not only because you knew better than to be so presumptuous, unworthy as you were, but particularly not after he’d already presented you with your task. A trial to endure in the name of forgiveness. Your penance for saying cruel things to one of the other girls in the congregation out of jealousy and spite. Angry that she might have caught his eye a little too much when you were right there, so much more deserving of his attention than she was. Especially when you were so very unaccustomed to not getting your way. It was an ugly thing, and you knew you’d earned this. 

Suguru may have had a propensity for being cruel in a subtle, needle-pinprick sort of way but he was never, ever unjust. 

Going to your hands and knees now, you lean over his prone body with a strange sense of detached excitement so you can regard him up close. His skin truly is flawless, warm and smooth with sparse curling hair to frame the soft colored hole nestled between his shapely cheeks. He smelled good, too. Like soap and detergent, and the faintest undercurrent of masculine musk that goes straight to your brain, sparking something inside you that makes your cunt squeeze around nothing. There’s no hesitation to do it and he must see that because his smirk inexplicably sharpens, looking like something you could well and truly cut yourself on — but when you swoop down to shove your face into the cradle of his body he stops you with a firm hand abruptly smacked to your forehead. 

Left reeling and disoriented, you allow him to push you back just a smidge. The wry twinkle you find in his gaze when you glance up at him makes you flush red hot, as embarrassed as you are castigated by the gesture. “I - I’m sorry - -“

“Now, now. There’s no rush, is there?” Simpering at you, he drags the tips of his fingers over your temple and down the side of your face so he can deliver a light, mocking tap to the underside of your chin. “You should savor it. Enjoy it. Unless you don’t want to, that is?” 

You shake your head so fast it makes you dizzy. “No, I do! I want to, Geto-sama! Really!” 

The sound he noises is not unlike a purr, and you gratefully lean into the warmth of his hand when he reaches back and curls those long fingers around the curve of your skull so he can pull you back in. “Good. Then take it nice and slow, just like that …”

Under his steady guidance, you lean down much more tentatively than the first time and let him press you into the meat of his ass where you deliver a soft, fleeting kiss to the skin. Suguru hums in appreciative approval at your acquiescence but continues to hold you so you don’t hurry it. So you don’t dive in like some kind of animal. 

Shame at your own behavior chokes you up and you suck in a wet, faltering breath even as you softly peck at the swell of flesh, distantly noting how warm he is as well as the taste of salt on his skin. 

The tickle of fine peach fuzz under your lips and the incomprehensibly pleasant smell that you can taste on the back of your tongue. It’s overwhelmingly easy to get lost in him like this, the act itself far more gratifying than you would have ever thought something such as this could be. Even for all your blind idolization towards the man laid out underneath you, holding you close with your face shoved up against his ass, you still hadn’t expected to feel quite so much satisfaction just from kissing his body. It was all you’d wanted in recent memory, yearning for nothing more than a chance to worship him as you were so certain he deserved to be worshipped, and yet you were still taken aback by it. 

And how could you not be when you were so intimately close, indulging the sort of physical touch you’d never been permitted to share with him until now? You’d fantasized about this — something like this, plenty of times in the past. Rubbed your clit raw and soaked through your panties more frequently than you could even count while you steadily drove yourself mad with wanting. It’s no wonder then that you were so willing to demean yourself when it meant getting the chance to actually touch him like this. The real him, and not the Geto Suguru that exists only in your mind. 

Your pussy gives a muted throb at the soar of vindication that suddenly tears through you, coating the seat of your underwear in sticky slick even as you lean into your work and press so tight against his flesh that it becomes hard to breathe. And of course Suguru allows it, softly cooing at you just as a priest offering comfort to the broken, desperate sinner at death's door might. It sounds like salvation in your ringing ears but you knew it was in all reality the whisper of eternal damnation. The abrasive shuffle of the hangman’s noose around your neck, or perhaps last rites read moments before the swing of the executioner's axe. 

But if this is how you were to die then you would go happily, merrily to that chopping block. 

“Mmm  … that’s it, darling. Nice and easy for me. Haste isn’t going to get you anywhere, now is it?” 

You shake your head with a muffled sound of agreement, basking in the warmth of his skin against yours while you listen to Suguru’s honey dipped voice filter over you. It’s reminiscent of a comfortingly warm mist against your flesh and in your ears. It was the one and only constant in your cotton stuffed head which couldn’t decide what, if anything, it should focus on above all the rest and you desperately latch onto it in search of direction. Cling to it for guidance, and heed its call to you on an exigent summons that you wouldn’t have been able to ignore even if you’d wanted to. 

It was making you crazy. 

He was making you crazy. 

Opening your mouth wide, you eagerly nibble and suck at his skin with rapidly growing urgency, desperate to feel more of him against you. Desperate to take more of him inside of you. He tastes so good, so good, that you can’t even think straight anymore now that you have the flavor of him marinating on your tongue. Your internal frenzy steadily grows while you try to feast on the communion of his body in earnest until he finally reaches down to deliver a sharp flick to your forehead, making you hiss.

“No marks.” 

Blinking back the sting of tears, you let up on the meaty swell of his cheek in favor of kissing the reddened spot you’ve left behind. It’s not enough to bruise, probably; but still regretfully noticeable, and you purse your lips against it in apologetic reverence. You should have known better. Should have asked before doing something of your own volition without his direct order to do it first. The weight of this newest transgression pulls an emotional sniffle out of you, and he mockingly chuckles in response to the sound. 

“How cute. You want to taste me that badly? I didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic, sweetheart.” 

You nod, dragging your cheek across his plushy ass, making it pudge under the pressure of your face even as a slow trickling tear dribbles from the corner of your eye. It follows the same line already tracked by the ones that came before it but, rather than finding your chin where it could drip off onto the floor, it spills over where your skin meets his and pools between the two of you. 

Softly, Suguru clicks his tongue at the sensation so you lift your head enough to lick it off of him in apology. The bitter salt is repugnant compared to the subtle, almost airy flavors of his body and you draw a faltering breath as you sedately work your way over the swell of his ass cheek one kitten lick at a time, working your way inward. 

He sighs, ever so softly, while you do it. Relaxes the pressure of his hand on the back of your head in favor of absently caressing his long fingers over your hair, teasing strays and flyaways. The tiny baby hairs on the nape of your neck. This unexpectedly tender touch from him, your savior and executioner wrapped into one, has you shuddering over him, wracked with the relief that comes with his forgiveness. You still had work to do. Still had a much deserved penance to complete, but with his guidance you were on the right path to salvation again. 

Carefully, you kiss a hot trail over the curve of his buttocks and start to work your way down. Nudge yourself even closer so you can lean into him and at last dip your face into the crevice of his body. The lingering scent of soap and male musk grows stronger like this, not at all unpleasant but so incredibly heady that it seems to rush straight to your cunt. You pointedly choose to ignore that though, and instead nuzzle your nose into the space between his cheeks, teasing the puckered hole within. A subdued shiver races through him, slight enough that you wouldn’t have noticed it had you not been pressed in so tight against him. He doesn’t move to stop you though and merely curls his finger around a loose strand of hair on your head as if something like this was a casual encounter, not one that was of any particular concern to him. Nothing to get excited or hasty about. A leisurely pastime he indulged in from time to time, frequently enough that it didn’t demand his full attention and yet not so commonplace that he was bored with it. 

Idly, you wonder who else among the congregants has been blessed with this particular gift. 

Spurned on, you press your face in close and deliver a lingering kiss to the center of his asshole. It weakly twitches under the contact, clenching and then unclenching in a mockery of a reciprocal kiss, returning the favor, and you do it again with a quiet groan. Sink into him until you can scarcely breathe but that is hardly of any consequence to you at this point. Suffocating in him like this did not seem so bad a fate — it was one you would have gladly welcomed, in fact. 

Taking your time with it, you slowly peck your way down the gentle slope of his taint and press your tongue flat against the seam, dragging your mouth up until you feel the wrinkled dip pass under it. You do it again and then again, slobbering all over him with slow, savory licks that come back tasting of salt and copper. His skin is so soft and smooth here, and mostly hairless save a few wispy strands that tickle your lips in silent reminder that what you were doing was by all accounts dirty. Certainly not the sort of degrading act someone of your social standing should be subjecting herself to. 

But you hold a deep, overwhelming love for him in your heart, one that trumps all sense of dignity you may have otherwise possessed. The quiet sigh he eventually issues into the still air only further encourages you to keep going. 

Pausing when your tongue next passes over the center of his hole, you worm it forward to poke and prod at the tight entrance. Circle the rim with just the tip until it relaxes against the wet pressure of your mouth so you can dip inside far enough to truly taste him. Your eyes roll back at the heady flavor and you quickly seal your lips around him, alternating between sucking and licking in order to loosen him up more. You wanted to shove your tongue inside of him as far as it would go, but you couldn’t do that when his body was still so tight. 

Suguru hisses faintly at the suction and untangles his hand from your hair, bringing it down so he can dig the fingers into his topmost cheek. He pulls at it, opening himself up to you. Grants you access to the depths of his person, and you eagerly take the chance to wiggle your tongue inside again, reaching deeper than before. His hips give a little jerk at the sensation before subtly angling upward, tipping towards your face. 

“Mmm, that’s it, darling. Just like that …”

Your breath puffs out of you in a ragged exhale, stuttering and clipped. It’s not hard to tell that your panties are soaked at this point and they wetly cling to you as you burrow deeper into the crevice of his ass with a muted shake of your head. You’re already as close as you can get but that doesn’t stop you from trying, even when your nose registers discomfort at the pressure. You can’t stop though. You’re mad with it, this powerful need to crawl inside of him, if only you could. If only it were possible. 

Groaning at the wild squirming of your tongue, he slowly eases up his hold on the meaty swell of his ass and finally rolls the rest of the way over onto his stomach. Barely audible huffs of pleasure reach your ears now, reverberating inside your skull like the sweetest melody of wind chimes to lull you deeper into your trance. The change of position opens him up further to you, you’re delighted to find, and it is with a great deal of satisfaction that you worm your tongue into that clenching passage where you can finally — finally! Massage at his insides to your pounding hearts content. 

“I knew you were well suited to this task,” He murmurs, breathy and distant. Distracted. “Your mouth was made for this, wasn’t it?” 

You noise a muffled sound of agreement, dizzy and lightheaded. Feeling faint with the weight of it all, but especially the significance behind this act of service and the sharp stab of humiliation that comes with it. Degrading though it may be, you’d never felt closer to this man who presented you with salvation in one hand and damnation in the other. You were practically soaring with it, and that sensation only increases, doubles down, when he pushes back on you in encouragement. 

The lower half of your face is a mess of dribbling saliva, cool and sticky on your red hot skin, but you stamp down the urge to reach up and wipe it away. Instead, you lean somehow further into him, meet the not so subtle roll of his hips, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into an easy rhythm like this. Rocking together in near perfect unison for a prolonged beat until he seems to grow impatient, pushing himself against you more insistently no matter how you work him over with your tongue. The thought that you weren’t doing a good enough job brings with it a sharp twinge in your chest, so you quickly follow him up when he  at last pushes up to his knees with a disgruntled huff. 

Positioned like this with his ass jutted upward makes it a little easier to tongue fuck him, his passage relaxing open with the pulse of a muscle spasm that shudders through him. You suck in a wet, gasping breath of air as you enthusiastically gum at him with your lips, noting in a far off, dreamy sort of way that the rim of his hole has become more puckered and raised over the last few minutes. It seems to welcome the soft plunge of your tongue now, greedily swallowing it up each time you dip it inside of him. The slow rise of pleasured groans coming from his mouth attests to the fact that he was enjoying this, assuring you and emboldening you at the same time. You wanted to make him feel good more than anything else in that moment — needed him to feel good — and it is with a great deal of pleasure that you let Suguru drag his ass across your face with a subdued twist of his pelvis, smearing you with sticky spit in the process. 

“Nnghn … yes, darling, yes. Keep that up and you’re going to make me cum … you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Ahnn - a reward for all your hard work, hm?” 

The thought alone is enough to make your whole body seize, pussy clamping tight around nothing so violently that you actually sway on your hands and knees. It was too much. You’d fantasized about just that, about making him shoot hot ropes down your throat more times than you could conceivably count, but you hadn’t thought you’d ever get the chance. It was too good to be true. A once in a lifetime opportunity if there ever was one. 

You’re punch drunk on it as you slip your tongue out of his hole and enthusiastically circle the puffy rim with broad, flat strokes before tracing a wet path down his taint. You pause long enough to deliver a smacking kiss to it before leaning further down, intent on doing the same to his hanging ballsack, but he stops you with a pointed shove of his ass. 

“Stay focused, my love. I already told you where your mouth belongs. Do not overstep my patience with you a second time in one day.” 

Appropriately chastised by that warning, you hurriedly direct your attention back to his waiting hole. He lets out a pleased sigh when you get back to work, lapping at him with renewed vigor and just a pinch of emboldened audacity, but it seems to sufficiently placate him. 

It doesn’t take long for Suguru to relax into it again and he sedately rocks his hips back into the warmth of your mouth, all but basking in the sensation now. You’re glad for it, for his infinitely forgiving nature and his proclivity for giving second, third, even fourth chances to those that loyally followed him. Were he not so kind and magnanimous you probably would have found yourself kicked to the curb long ago. Were he not so understanding of your shortcomings as a mere mortal before his godlike presence you would have surely found yourself booted from the temple, never to return or be seen ever again. 

There was a kindness in his cruelty and you’re reminded of that when he pushes against you, going up on his hands now so he can properly grind himself on your face. You welcome it. Revel in it as you fuck your tongue into him again, delighting in the easy slide of it along his throbbing passage. You had him so obscenely coated in slick that you were sure the insertion of a finger would be a seamless one, but you don’t dare try it. Not without his permission first. Not without the risk of incurring further ire from him and, as if he can sense your thoughts, he twists around to look back at you. 

“Mmm, I’m getting close now … lie back for me, won’t you?” 

You freeze at that, a million questions running through your head all at once, but you give none of them voice as you slowly peel your mouth off him. This time you can’t stop yourself from reaching up to swipe at your wet chin even though it does very little in the way of good. You were soaked in spit from the nose down, something only a good washing could remedy, so you push it to the back of your mind for now and move to obey, hastily laying out flat on your back across the floor. 

For better or worse it doesn’t take long for you to figure out what he’s planning to do, and you swallow the lump in your throat as you watch him shuffle around to kneel beside your head. He looks like an elegant, dangerous cat hovering over you, all the more so when he pins you with that serrated edge smile. The faint flush on his cheekbones doesn’t detract from the air of superiority he holds over you, whether natural or by design, and in fact only seems to highlight his almost preternatural beauty. You’d never known someone so pretty, regardless of their gender, and you can’t quite shake the feeling of looking upon a blessed work of art as he gathers the loose fabric of his priest garb in both hands. 

Then, to your surprise, he throws one leg over your chest, straddling you backwards with his front pointed towards your feet, and you suddenly forget how to breathe. You aren’t sure how to react, what to do, so you just lie there, prone and helpless, while he hikes up the back of his robe to expose his ass again. He was still denying you even the pleasure, the simple satisfaction of seeing his cock with your own eyes, but you were under the distinct impression that he must have been straining hard by the way he looks back at you over his shoulder. The simmering heat in his dark eyes gives him away. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” 

Effectively robbed of your voice, all you can do is shake your head. 

He chuckles at that, clearly amused but unconcerned at your lack of a verbal response, and you hold your breath as he starts to lower himself. You think you might really faint, as overwhelmed as you are by the whole thing. Somehow you manage to keep it together though and you groan faintly when he settles on top of you, not quite sitting his full weight down but enough so that you quickly find it hard to breathe. It feels like you really might suffocate in his ass this time, more so when he gives his hips a slight wiggle to get comfortable and make sure his puckered entrance was right where he wanted it. 

“There. That’s nice, isn’t it?” 

Your attempt at a response is horribly muffled and incomprehensible, a mess of gibberish that may not have made much sense at all even if you weren’t currently being smothered. That clearly doesn’t bother him, however, and you whimper when he reaches down to take your hands in his so he can redirect them around his waist and up to the front of his robe. 

“Hold this for me?” 

Numbly, you fist your fingers into the thick material and let him position them as he wanted. You felt silly and inconsequential, a thing and not a person with him seated upon you like this. Just like a king on his impromptu throne. But you were hardly in any position to complain. Even when humiliation cuts through you like a sharp razor blade, even when embarrassed heat floods your face to make you even dizzier than you already were, you still couldn’t find it in you to advocate against this treatment. 

If Geto Suguru wanted to treat you like a chair and nothing more then that was what he would do. 

If he wanted to treat you like an inanimate mastubatory aid then that was his prerogative as well. 

You were his to do with as he saw fit, and you have to make a conscious effort to stop your hands from shaking when he settles more firmly on top of you, puckered hole pressing tight against your mouth until you have no choice but to open it. He moans, very softly, at the sensation before reaching around, presumably to take his cock in hand. The eager clench of his ass tells you the exact moment he gives it a tight, savory squeeze. 

“Don’t forget to use your tongue …” 

He sounds distracted. Thoroughly preoccupied now, but you happily comply without protest as you reach out past teeth and lips to lap at him again. The responding groan is needy, perhaps even a little frazzled, and it slices through you like a hacksaw. You’ve never heard anything like that come out of him before, or anyone else for that matter. It was a heated noise that seemed otherworldly for as beautiful as it was. The kind of sound an seraph might make, if they could or would engage in an act such as this. 

Unbothered by the lack of oxygen you were getting, you dazedly poke your tongue up to dip it into the center of his hole. You were hoping, praying, to catch that sound again but all you get for your trouble is a breathy exhale that seems to waver at the tail end. That’s not nearly enough to discourage you though, and you crane your neck up to attack the center of his body with the same fervor as before, worming your way inside so you can massage along his pulsing guts. 

Suguru twitches on top of you, his breath coming a little quicker now as he slowly thrusts his hips forward and then back. You shudder at the realization that he was fucking into his fist, dragging out the strokes to elongate the pleasure of them while pointedly dragging his asshole across your mouth at the same time. It has you squirming underneath him, pitifully rubbing your thighs together in search of relief, no matter how blithe it might be, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. He was intent on chasing his release now, and you struggle to keep your tongue moving when his motions start to pick up. 

Quicker now, he rocks between your mouth and his hand, letting out soft little huffs and groans while he does it. Nothing quite like that sound he’d first made but these were nice too. They were husky and hot, giving away the true extent of his arousal. You wondered if he was leaking precum all over his knuckles, or if he was using it to lubricate his palm. If he was rubbing over the glans with a blocky, callous worn thumb to stimulate the nerve endings there or if he was more focused on making his fist as tight as possible for him to fuck into. You wished you could see, that you could watch him tug himself to completion, but just getting to be this close to him while he did it seemed enough for now. 

Assuming you didn’t die here on the floor of his private chambers, smothered to death by his ass, you’d have plenty of material for your own mastubatory fantasies to last a lifetime. It was well worth the risk and the price you might potentially pay. 

“Oh, right there, love … deeper, go deeper!” 

You try your best to oblige even when the root of your tongue aches in protest, already stretched to its limit. Gasping and heaving, struggling just to keep from passing out, you forcibly wriggle it into the clenching heat of his body with everything you’ve got, determined to meet his every need. He responds in kind with a fervent thrust of his pelvis, riding your mouth with quickly growing need. You hadn’t expected him to be so affected, so caught up in the pleasure, but you carefully file it all away with what little wherewithal you still possess. It wasn’t much, hardly more than a drop of higher functioning thought left at your disposal, and yet that seemed to be all you needed. You could feel your own excitement growing in tandem with his and your body reacts to each sound, each shifting motion as if you were experiencing the same sensations as he was. 

And when his ass suddenly squeezes down on your tongue in a vice grip your pussy responds in kind, tightening to the point of discomfort. Suguru groans, just as beautifully as before, and it makes your toes curl while he faintly jerks on top of you, stiffly riding out what could only be a powerful orgasm. Elation quickly rushes in to flood your cotton stuffed head as if you’d experienced the same high of relief even as your guts clamp up, left hanging on the precipice indefinitely, but you try to tell yourself that you don’t mind it. His pleasure was your pleasure after all, and you were thankful just for that. 

Gradually, some moments later, he starts to relax on top of you and you suck in a gasping breath of air when he gingerly rocks forward to lift his ass from your face. The sense that everything was spinning around you at an alarming speed only increases as he moves to dismount and you squint against the faint light coming from the lamp in the corner. Even that was too much for your eyes after they’d adjusted to the darkness under his robe, a surprisingly apt metaphor for the malicious spell he had you under, but this too was something that didn’t bother you half as much as it probably should have. 

What does register in your mind as alarm, however, is the creamy white ropes of cum you find staining down the front of your clothes when you lift your head. It made sense, in a way. Where else was he supposed to cum if not on you? Still, you can’t quite keep the shock off your face and he titters quietly at your expression while he makes casual work of straightening out his robes again. 

“That’s quite a face you’re making. Is something wrong?” 

“No.” You practically croak. Stopping long enough to clear your throat, you try again. “No, nothings wrong, Geto-sama.” 

“Good. Now, I hope you’ll think twice before trying to stir up trouble again.” 

You visibly wither at that. “I will. I promise.” 

Drawing a stilted breath that sounds like the swing of a blade in the still air, he leans forward to brace one hand on the floor, looking at you up close. “Do you really? You know I won’t tolerate any lying.” 

“I do! I swear it!” 

The corners of his eyes wrinkle when he smiles, looking fittingly like a sly and powerful fox demon. “Good. I’d hate to have to punish you again for the same thing, but if you and that tongue of yours ever need a reminder don’t hesitate to come see me again. I’ll set you straight as many times as you need.” Then, with a sense of finality, he sits back and moves to stand. “Come. It’s just about time for dinner and I do believe your father will be joining us this evening, isn’t that right?” 

Your stomach sinks. You’d almost completely forgotten. 

No, not almost. 

You really did forget after everything that had happened today. Was it really any wonder though? It seemed like only a few short minutes had come and gone here in the secluded privacy of Suguru’s chamber but it had to have been going on over an hour now since he’d steered you through the door with a mindful hand on the small of your back. 

A shudder races through you at the reminder but you quickly shrug it off, clambering to get on your feet as well. “I’m so sorry for keeping you like this. I’ll change as quickly as I can and - -“

“Ah, ah. That’s not what I told you to do, is it?” The knowing smirk on his face grows, sharpens and slices through you like a knife. You’re wholly mortified at the way your pussy throbs in response to it, drawing attention to the fact that you were soaking into your underwear. It felt like you’d already cum at least twice, but you knew all too well that that was not the case. “If I’d wanted you to get cleaned up first I would have said that, wouldn’t I? Hm? I told you to come. You’re not going to disobey me are you?”

“No, Geto-sama, o - of course not!” 

Chuckling, he turns to make for the door. “Then let’s get a move on. I’d hate to keep your father waiting.” 

You hesitate only a brief moment, slowly glancing over yourself one last time. The threads of sticky semen splattered across your front were quickly drying but not nearly at the rate you would have liked. They were leaving behind wet, globular stains, the darkened patches in the fabric regrettably noticeable by your estimation. Maybe they wouldn’t be as obvious to other people though. Maybe they’d just assume you spilled water or some kind of oil on your clothes. Maybe no one would ask any questions. 

Not quite convinced your luck would hold out, you hurry to follow after Suguru just as any devout lamb following their shepherd should. Through heaven or hell, fire or high water, you would let him lead you to any stretch of this earth and back as many times as he saw fit, in whatever condition pleased him. Even now, even after your dehumanizing trial, there was nothing you wouldn’t do to earn his good graces and stay in them. 

Absolutely nothing.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello :D

I wanted to ask if you could pls do yuno w/ a s/o who’s very chaotic, waggish, unserious n silly I think that type of dynamic is rlly cute n funny n if you don’t mind also include some other characters reactions pls!

If u do it thank u <3 but even so it’s alr if u don’t :)

Hello!

I had fun trying to do a "opposites attract" kind of a fic for him ^^ I hope you like it~!

Pairing: Yuno Grinberryal x reader Genre: Fluff/comedy Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.7k Contains: Established relationship between reader and Yuno, Yuno is a VC in this already, and his prince status is known, there is a kiss on the cheek, teasing, a prank, reader and Yuno are opposites in personality

Yuno Grinberryal, the vice captain of the Golden Dawn, and the prince of Spade Kingdom, was a stoic young man on the surface. Which didn’t mean that he wouldn’t have felt deeply, but he merely wasn’t one to show a lot of his emotions to the world. Partly because, once upon a time, he had decided to not be so sensitive, and thus, he had made an effort to toughen himself up.

But on the other hand, he had been more concerned with his own goals and ideals than the thoughts and opinions of others. Because… if he didn’t believe in himself, who would? Which contributed in him becoming more secure and displaying so little outwards.

The masses judged him, back when he still bore the title of an orphan, for daring to dream about becoming a Wizard King. The opinions of those who didn’t matter, didn’t matter either. And so, why would he have laid out his emotions to those who didn’t matter to him?

Not that hiding away his emotions hadn’t been difficult in the beginning. But he had grown used to it over the years. Up to the point where he appeared to have none. At least to those who didn’t know him.

On the contrast, there was you. A bubbly, wear-your-emotions-on-your-sleeve type of a person, who smiled like the summer sun. But who was always coming and going, and… because of whom more than one thing was left in disarray rather often.

And today was no different.

You giggled as you ran away from the Golden Dawn’s kitchen after replacing the sugar container with salt.

The cook was trying out a new recipe, so they were making a small batch. Meaning that there would be no huge amounts of food destroyed by your little prank. Especially since it had been just the specific sugar container, which had been by the cooks work bench.

“HEY!” You heard while running from out the door, quickening your pace just as soon as you heard the yell.

“Catch me if you can!” You yelled over your shoulder before turning the corner and intending to run into the vast gardens. There’d be enough places to hid-

*Bump*

You collided together with someone, and staggered back.

“Sorry! But I gotta-“

“No you don’t.”

You stopped, recognizing Yuno’s tone of voice.

His amber eyes were peering into you, and his brow was raised.

“What did you do?” The words flowed out of him with the same tone, almost sounding like there was a sigh at the end.

Only that there wasn’t.

You flashed him a cheeky grin. “Just thought that something was too salty, and that sweeter things are better.”

And that was when the sigh left him.

“Unbelievable…” he muttered under his breath with a slow blink.

“Not really,” you gave his cheek a quick peck. “If you know me.”

“I do,” he said while raising both of his eyebrows in a knowing look.

“Well then it shouldn’t be unbelievable,” you teased while flashing another grin to him.

He shook his head, and a sliver of a smile appeared on his lips. “What do I do with you?”

“Hmmm…” you hummed as your grin widened even more. “Beats me,” you shrugged. “But your life would be a lot more dull if it wasn’t for me.”

“I think I was the first to say that.”

“And I didn’t claim anything else.”

His smile widened even further with the admission, the words and the sentiment. Because it was true, his life would be a lot more dull, one sided, if it wasn’t for you in his life. But, admittedly, at times he did hope that you’d calm down a little.

Just so that, now that he was the vice-captain, you wouldn’t be one of the greater sources of trouble with the day to day functions of the squad.

“Just keeping you on your tippy toes!” You laughed, giving him a wink.

But yes, you’d try to give him a little less trouble. Because you did care for him, and didn’t want him to have to worry more because of you.

Just a little harmless fun, and added… spice, in his life.

[vechter]

recomendaciones de fan fiction para dick y bruce??? ☺️

ooooh, okay most of these will probably be one shots:

long black line by shipyrds quick one shot that makes me insaaaane. captures their dynamic, their ease, their lingering hurts, everything so, so well. they both can never get away from the fact that being what they are to each other has left them irrevocably changed and it is not always for the better.

through sandstorms and hazy dawns by cirth tbh, any dc work by cirth is amazing but this one is probably my fav. something about how those robin years are soooo fundamental to both of them and they both tend to look back at them with rose-tinted nostalgia and sometimes, that doesn't hold up to scrutiny.

gonna find another place, maybe one I can stand by daringyounggrayson hurt no comfort but the tail end of those robin years can be soooo heartbreaking gosh. how much they are capable of failing each other, how much goes unsaid and how much that can hurt.

I Left My Conscience On Your Front Doorstep by dustorange canon divergent au with slade wilson. this one isn't a one shot but you will lose your mind over every single scene. i think this was probably one of the first few fics that made me tear up while reading. it's so, so heartbreaking and so, so well written.

Stay a Child by ijustwanttodestroy a beautiful, short two parter with the first part focused on dick & bruce and the second part a warped mirror into damian & dick. it's very sharp and funny and the first part captures the much lighter and joyful undertone of their relationship. i re-read this one every few weeks.

When I Touch the Water by audreycritter sooooo good. shows how much dick means to bruce and how well dick can navigate bruce's emotional shortcomings. they love each other so deeply, they can never be normal about each other. it's funny and sweet and just a great, great read. leaves you warm and content that sometimes, their relationship can be so comforting.

a day before midnight by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader) post ric-grayson. ooof, this one hurts. lots of angst, lots of things that aren't said, that cannot be said because what would be the point? dick is allowed to be angry about the time he was an amnesiac and he is allowed to grieve the time and pieces of himself that he lost. good stuff.

medio by newsical  both hurt and comfort. elle's writing makes me crazy every single time. they're both so deeply entrenched in each other's orbit because the love they have for each other is so vast and enormous. they make me insane. also, loooove how dick's initial voice is captured- the patchwork multilingualism and how fond bruce is of it. sooooo sweet.

Shoulders by glassofwater early robin years!! gosh bruce's thoughts contrasted with his inability to communicate them and how easily dick can and does understand some of it. it's such a beautiful and canon-accurate capturing of how fundamental dick is to bruce. how much those early robin years, that blinding devotion and faith they have shaped them. and bruce loves dick soooo much.

hope you enjoy these, anon!!

[jack-off-valentine]

Guilty Gear Design Revisions

Guilty Gear is a great series, with some great characters. However, the designs can be rather hit or miss; with some of the women taking the most hits. So I have decided to toss my hat into the ring and suggest some changes for the designs.

But first, rules.

There will be two types of revisions made here; Some I think would better fit their stories and characters, and some are just personal taste. I will label them as such.

Some characters will have both types of suggestions, some will only have one, and some won't be featured at all. This does not mean there are no changes that could be made, or even should be made, it just means I haven't given enough thought to them to come up with any.

I will be focusing entirely on characters who are currently in Strive as of today, October 2nd 2023.

With all that wrote, let's begin.

Baiken

For Improvements; My girl needs some beef on her bones. And I don't just mean a little bit of tone on the belly, I mean tree trunk limbs and shoulder so wide she has to turn around just to get through most doors. Scars too. Seeing her model having essentially a completely clear face will never not feel off to me. Rough skin, chapped lips, maybe some scarred titties if we're feeling particularly uncowardly. Also, some signs of aging would provide a nice flavour to the design, like gray hairs and wrinkles.

For Personal Taste; Some baggy army pants alongside the dyke boots Daisuke used in this image would look pretty nice.

Sin

For Improvement; Make him look like an acrobat, not a body builder. I know it's funny seeing this canonical five-year-old be swole beyond belief, but it just doesn't fit the character. He isn't swinging around a giant sword and overpowering his opponent with sheer brute force, he isn't Sol. Instead, he's flying around the battlefield with polejumps and cartwheels and backflips and frontflips, confusing then striking with a quick physical blow or some potent magic. He's an excited doing acrobatics, and he should look like it.

Ramlethal

For Improvement; First off, give her a new outfit. The Xrd tube top and short shorts, while nice for horniness, is terrible for her character. Strive kind of fixed this, but they didn't commit as much as they should have. I'm thinking an outfit like this by @matcchio.

Secondly, she must become more creature-esque. She was given a maw full of shark teeth and they didn't do anything with it. It doesn't even show up in Strive. Some thicker, curlier hair would also be appreciated.

For personal taste; Take all the muscle you took off Sin and give it to her. This would probably have to coincide with making her a bit more of a bruiser, gaining some health and losing some speed. I think it would be cool, though.

Johnny

For personal taste; make him not white, dear lord. He would be so much cooler if he weren't a Blue Eyes White Dragon.

Happy Chaos

For improvement; Use the X's he has on his body to give him top surgery scars connected to the heart symbol on his chest.

For Personal Taste; Put some goddamn shoes on. This is gonna be a big showing of my taste in character design, but I just am incapable of fully enjoying a character's looks if they've got the dogs out. I put this here because it at least supports his character, unlike Ram, so I can tolarate it, but I have a Happy Chaos Shoes mod for a reason. It may show weakness, but I'm fine with that.

Giovanna

For improvement; Make her eyes not blue. Why are they blue. At least on Nago you can argue it's a contrast to his red and black eyes when he's in hangry mode, but if you wanted an eye colour related to her powers you could just make them green.

In Conclusion

I may have acted like a bit of a hater near the end, but I do genuinely love this series; and, like with many things, my love makes me privy to all manner of less than great things in it. Anyway, if you've got any additions to this list, feel free to tell me all about it.