#keep something unless overtaking

[albatris]

had a dream the title of rental car book two was just KEEP LEFT UNLESS OVERTAKING

(anyway today was moving day!!! so I'm too exhausted to post anything else. I woke up to post this. goodnight again. be good drivers y'all)

[jojotier]

bro strider boutta start climbing the villain ranks for understuck

[futureman]

give in

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel shows you how to love yourself the way you deserve

warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, age gap, comfort, smut, size kink, guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, fingering, exploring sexual trauma, mentions of guilt & shame, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.8k

“Doin’ real good, baby. That’s it, nice and slow. No need to rush it.”

Joel needs you to believe it. 

He can feel your discomfort and sense the intrusive thoughts threatening to overtake you, but he needs you to know that everything you're doing right now is okay. 

It’s normal and natural, and, under his roof, highly encouraged. All he's ever wanted is for you to feel good. For you to allow yourself the grace and gratification of coming undone at your own, perfect hand.

But you live by an unspoken rule, one that doesn't apply to anyone else but you. There's nothing you love more than watching Joel touch himself, whether it's quick and dirty, or drawn-out and meticulous, his body teetering on the edge of all-consuming release for hours. Yet, when it comes to your personal pleasure, there’s only shame.

He's beginning to realize that your aversion goes beyond a lack of education. You were young when the outbreak hit, and while FEDRA schools aren’t exactly known for their top-tier sex ed classes, that isn't what's holding you back.

There's something else there, too, buried beneath the surface. A lifetime's worth of guilt and doubt that he alone gets the privilege of unraveling. So, whenever you come to him for help, he leads you to his bed and gently coaxes you to self-completion.

He takes it slow and keeps his hands to himself unless you tell him otherwise—and you always tell him otherwise. But those are your boundaries to set. New, spoken rules to replace the old ones. 

Pressed firmly into your side, he whispers soft reassurances in your ear, his lips brushing the wispy baby hairs framing your forehead with every word. He swallows every gasp and moan, and cherishes the sharp sting of your nails biting into his skin as you reach your peak.

And when you come down from the clouds and turn to him with hazy eyes and a blissful smile, he knows it's all worth it. Even if it takes years more, he’ll continue to talk you through it, banishing the cruel thoughts that plague you and replacing them with the promise of relief.

Just like he is right now.

--

"Tell me what you're feelin'. I wanna know what's goin' on in that pretty head of yours."

You shake your head, exhaling a long, frustrated breath. Your body never responds to you the way it does to Joel, and, on the rare occasion it does, it just isn't the same. It takes too long, and there's none of the gradual build-up that allows you to lose yourself in it. Not in the pleasure of it, anyway.

"S'a little...dry," you mumble, slowing to a stop. It'll start to burn if you keep going like this, but you're not sure what else you can do. Joel presses a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear before pulling back.

"Lemme see your hand, sugar," he says, gesturing for yours with his own. Confused, you remove your fingers from between your legs to hold up in front of his face. 

You're waiting for him to inspect them, or come up with a valid reason why they're not working, when he abruptly sucks them into his mouth. His tongue feels hot, searingly so, as he laves over the pads of your middle and ring fingers, then dips between them to caress your knuckles down to where they meet. 

A wave of heat almost identical to the one enveloping your hand begins to pool at the base of your spine, and you feel a sudden, heady whoosh at the apex of your thighs. If he could just keep doing that, exactly that, but further down your body—

But, to your disappointment, he stops as suddenly as he started and slides your fingers from his mouth with a lewd pop before guiding them back to your core.

"How 'bout now?" he asks earnestly, and Christ. He's so good at that. He always knows how to work your body, even by proxy. 

You're wet. You don't even need the added moisture of Joel's saliva, anymore. Just the action itself has you breathing heavier, enticing a craving you never knew you had. Your fingers slip clumsily through the slick leaking out of you, and your eyelids flutter at the fleeting sensation of your fingertips catching your entrance. 

"B-better...feels better," you stumble over your words. Your fingers continue to explore your folds without your permission, stoking the fire in your belly. And also your doubt. "But I'm—J-Joel it's..."

That telltale embarrassment is starting to creep in again, reminding you that you're doing something wrong. It feels too good, and you really don't want to stop, but what does that say about you? Sinner, slut. The intrusive thoughts are louder than Joel's gentle panting in your ear, now.

As if he can hear them, he snakes a hand past your stomach to grip the soft plush of your thigh. He spreads you open for him, exposing your cunt to the open air as he massages soothing shapes into your skin, silencing the ugly words with his kind touch.

"S'alright, sugar, you can keep goin'. You liked that, right? That's good. You're treatin' your body the way she deserves," he says encouragingly. His hand inches closer to where you're dribbling onto the sheets, but stops the moment his thumb reaches your coarse curls. 

You ache to wrap your soaked fingers around his to tug him closer, but you know you can't. And that feels surprisingly okay. For the first time in a long time, you're actually keeping yourself sated enough without his help.

Now that your legs are parted, it all feels...different. Heightened, almost. It's because you're hyperaware of every movement you're making, you realize, and it turns you on way more than it should. Or, no. No. Exactly as much as it should. 

Joel isn't immune to it, either. 

As your bedroom fills with the sounds of crisp, rustling sheets and the slick motions of your fingers roaming your folds, you can feel Joel fighting harder not to rut into your side. His body is tense beside you, and the bicep pillowing your head flexes intermittently every time your hips swivel to meet your hand. His praise is also starting to take on an edge, now tinged with something a little...filthier.

"Y'hear that? You're gettin' so loud, sugar. So wet," he grits out, his expression pained. "Just look at'cha. Needy, perfect girl. Doin' everythin' right."

His eyes dart up to your face, observing the delicate scrunch of your nose and your parted lips. He's watching you a little too intently, likely to avoid the image of your glistening palm and fingertips working to bring yourself closer and closer to the edge. You're making a huge mess.

And it's making Joel hard as a rock. Twitching and leaking, and temptingly bare against the sweet friction of your hip bone. You know he's doing everything he can to focus on you, but he can't even begin to imagine how much his reaction is spurring you on. 

More. You want to give yourself so much more.

"Joel, I don't think I'm doing it right," you twist to whine into his tousled, graying hair. You breathe him in, and the familiar scent of pine and suede makes your head spin and your fingers stutter. "S'not enough. I-I need more, I keep losing it."

He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, wrenching his gaze away from you to glance down the bed. Christ, he can't even hide how badly he wants to touch you. His cock jerks the moment he catches sight of you again, smearing precum across your skin, and you involuntarily mimic him, your hips bucking up into your unpracticed touch.

Blunt nails dig into your thigh before his hand trails back up to your stomach. It trembles as he guides you, languidly and with a hint of desperation. 

"S'okay, just follow me," he instructs you, swirling his middle and ring fingers in a tight circle around your belly button. You shiver at the raspiness of his voice. "Right around your clit. Remember where that is?" 

But before you can shake your head, his arm slides out from under you and he shifts further down your body to lean over you, propping himself on his elbow. His fingers continue their ministrations on your stomach while he moves lower to gently tug up the hood of your clit, revealing your swollen nub. 

"Fuckin' hell," he swears quietly under his breath, his stomach visibly tensing. He's careful to steer clear of everything else, giving you enough space to heed his lesson. 

"Alright, c'mere, sugar. There ya go. See? You remember," he releases you, shifting a hand to your thigh and wrapping the other tightly around the base of his cock. He keens, his back nearly bowing with the pent-up tension in his body. "That's it. Nice, tight circles. Just like when I make you cum with my mouth."

You choke on your next moan, squeezing your eyes shut as you're suddenly inundated with memories of Joel between your legs, fucking you with his tongue until you gush into his mouth. You press down harder, swirl faster. No guilt, no disgust. It all still feels so good. 

He notices the change in your breathing immediately and begins to stroke himself in time with the rapid rise and fall of your breasts. The hazel of his eyes sharpens to pitch black. A warning, preparing you for the ecstasy to come.

"Oh, you like that, huh? S'good, you're doin' so good. Can ya give yourself two fingers? Wanna show ya all the ways I make you squeeze mine," he croons, teasing just below the ridge of his head with his thumb while he waits for your response. 

"I...yeah, y-yes," you whimper, your brows furrowing as you slip your fingers lower to circle your entrance. But as you start to press into yourself, you hesitate. "W-wait, it feels like too much. I don't want it to hurt."

At that, he all but winces like he's in physical pain, and his hand shoots to the base of his cock again, squeezing hard. 

"Christ," he grits through his teeth, but it sounds more akin to a growl. It wasn't your intention to make him fight his own body like this, but you won't lie and say you're not devouring every second of it. He exhales sharply through his nose to ground himself. "Does it feel good when ya take my cock?"

Those dark eyes are on yours, now, but somehow they're still so gentle. He's not saying any of this for himself. You can tell, it's all for you. Reminders that you can do this if you want it, and that he'd never ask you to do anything that could harm you.

You nod quickly because it does feel good. You need him to know that having his cock inside you feels so, so good. 

"Look at those pretty, little fingers of yours. They bigger than I am?"

Your eyes drop to where his hand is still wrapped tightly around himself. He's leaking all over his fingers, thick and tinged an angry shade of red.

"No, Joel. You're bigger," you whisper, your pleasure intensifying the longer you watch him. His lips quirk into the beginnings of a smirk.

"Now, ya don't have to. You can get yourself there just like that. S'just as good," his drawl commands your attention. "But I think you'd like knowin' how it feels like to cum around 'em—"

The tips of your fingers begin to sink into your heat before he finishes his sentence. The sensation is...everything. Too much to keep your eyes from rolling back or your jaw from dropping. It's so different. As you bottom out, you wonder how this is even possible for Joel. How he ever manages to fit.

"S'hard to move," you pump your fingers in and out experimentally, moaning quietly at the addictive way they drag against your sensitive walls.

You're not too naive to realize your body stretches to accommodate him, but you're too caught up in the sight of his hand resuming its previous pace to recall that knowledge. He looks a little desperate now and sounds even more so.

"Fuck me. S'it tight? Tell me, sugar. Tell me how tight ya are," he pants heavily, unable to stop himself from fucking into his fist. You unknowingly match his pace, clenching around yourself every time your palm slaps into your clit.

"M'so tight, Joel. And wet and warm," your eyes flutter closed as you lose yourself in the beauty of your own body. 

Letting the slick sound of his hand slamming into his pelvic bone be your guide, you bring yourself closer and closer to your own, distinctive state of nirvana. The same explosive release Joel gives you all the time that you're finally allowing your body to experience with itself.

"Joel, I'm...I...," you sob around your words, barely able to force them out as your entire being quakes with your impending orgasm. "...I can't—m'gonna cum, Joel, I can't."

Without warning, he throws a leg over your body to straddle your hips and crashes his lips into yours. He continues to work himself as he coaxes your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours fleetingly before he pulls back. 

"Ya can. Let go, sugar. Give in to it, s'okay. I got ya, I'm right here," he breathes against your lips, and you tilt your head to meet his again. When your head drops back onto the bed, your eyes are pleading. You need his help. 

And he understands. That's what he's here for.

"Cum with me," he murmurs, dropping his forehead to yours. "C'mon, perfect girl, you deserve it."

You believe him. The shame and never-ending guilt that twists and snags like barbed wire in your chest is nowhere to be found right now. There's only silence, save for you and Joel teetering on the cusp, and his tender reassurances in your ear. He's right. You can have this. 

"Ngh—Joel, it's...cumming. Fuck, fuck, m'cumming."

It creeps up on you, a gentle crescendo that abruptly peaks, then slams into you like a freight train. His name leaves your lips in a sharp exhale of sheer relief, repeated like a prayer while you ride it out. 

You're vaguely aware of a ragged, drawn-out groan above you as you soak the sheets beneath you, your cunt squeezing your fingers hard with every spasm, just like he said it would. You feel it all. 

Then, you feel him, splattering across your stomach and breasts in thick, white streaks, his release as messy and prolonged as yours. Gasping, you continue through your aftershocks together until sensitivity sets in.

Joel collapses on the bed next to you and immediately pulls you into his arms, uncaring of the sticky, drying residue smearing between you. He cups your cheek and kisses you, firmly but chastely, before reluctantly pulling away.

His eyes search yours carefully like he's looking for something. Peace, maybe? A sense of calm, an absence of the cloudiness he so often sees there and fights to keep at bay. Whatever it is, he must've found it because, then, his lips are on yours again, a longer, deeper kiss that you melt into with loose limbs and a light heart.

"How we doin', sugar?" he asks tentatively as he parts from you. 

You take a moment to respond, appraising your body and everything it can sense right now. The wetness between your legs and on your chest, your aching wrist and thighs, and that sweet, pleasant buzz settling at the top of your spine. 

"Good," you tell him honestly. You gaze up at him with a blissful smile, preening at the affectionate one he gives you in return, before burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"Thanks...for this," you continue, mumbling carefully into the warmth of his skin. "And for putting up with me. I know all of this is shitty and weird, and not fun. Just...thank you—for never giving up on me."

He sighs, pulling you impossibly closer and enveloping you in his strong, soothing embrace. It feels safe here. In Joel's bed, surrounded by his scent and heat, and unwavering patience, you start to feel hopeful. He lifts your hand to his lips and softly kisses the pads of each finger, then the center of your palm.

"Ya don't have to thank me for any of that. We'll keep doin' this, s'long as it takes," he murmurs, urging you out of your hiding spot to meet his eyes. "Not a damn thing wrong with ya. Ya hear me? You're perfect."

Maybe one day, you'll be able to believe him outside of this bedroom. But, for right now, you just feel lucky to be loved by a man like Joel. One who accepts your trauma and your past, and will always be there to save you, even from yourself.

thanks for reading!

[ssahotchnerr]

So the mom friend!reader fic?? What if she’s sick and trying to hide it from the others, especially Aaron, while at work and also still trying being the mom friend 😭🖤

hidden efforts

AWW cw; fem!reader, being sick descriptions, established relationship (aaron and reader are married), fluff <333 continued from simultaneously

despite hand sanitizer and vitamin c, whatever cold spencer had managed to overtake your immune system next. brutally.

you woke up feeling unwell, but it was just a distant pang. nothing major, nothing worth staying home over. but as the day moved forward you began to regret your decision; you barely had the strength to lift a pen. and through the course of the morning, the trash bin hidden underneath your desk had grown dangerously full of tissues.

while you loved taking care of others, you didn't favor being the one being coddled. unless it was by someone with the first name aaron, last name hotchner. but even then, would you be reluctant to admit it.

"hey, do you know what-"

"2:30." you foolishly pushed your voice, attempting to hide the hoarseness within it - to sound as normal as you possibly could.

derek crossed his arms, amused sass in his voice, "i didn't even finish my question."

"but i answered it, didn't i?" you tried your hardest to return a teasing smile, but it was half your best. instead, you fought back a sneeze, prompting your eyes to water and nose to burn.

he nodded slowly, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly in suspicion. but he dropped it quickly, moving on.

and for the meantime, you turned back to the waiting work in front of you, forcing yourself to get something done.

"hey."

aaron's voice and sudden hands on the back of your chair caused you to jump in your seat. he quickly squeezed your shoulders, silently apologizing for startling you.

"you ready...?" his voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the contents of your desk, littered with cough drop wrappers and a few scrunched up tissues.

you did your best to block the scraps from his view - leaning forward, discreetly swiping them off side towards the container holding your pens - almost letting a cough escape as you opened your mouth. "y-yeah-"

"what are those?"

"the action reports for-"

"no, not that." aaron reached forward and plucked a wrapper off your desk, holding it up between his finger pads. his lips formed into a pout, "sweetheart, are you not feeling well?"

"i'm feeling perfectly fine."

due to the wheels on your chair, aaron was easily able to maneuver you back, exposing your tissue-filled bin. "then what's this?"

"allergies?" you offered, in a hopeful tone - maybe he'd buy that?

but naturally, your husband knew better, "why didn't you tell me you felt sick?"

"i'm not sick, jus' a cold." you swiveled your chair around, peering up at him.

the back of aaron's hand found your forehead, the scowl on his face deepening at his findings. "i don't think so. you're running a temperature, and now that i have a better look at you, you're rather flushed as well."

"flushed or not, we have a meeting-"

"no, we have a meeting." aaron responded, referring to himself and the others, "you're going right up to my office and laying down."

you gazed at him exasperatedly, playing up that look in your eyes, the one that was nearly impossible for him to say no to. "aaron-"

"nope, i’m not falling for it this time," he helped you to your feet, his hand supporting the far side of your hip as you wobbled vaguely. his eyes darted to the right, taking quick notice of someone walking by, "anderson, would you mind grabbing a water bottle and bringing it to my office?"

"so much for vitamin c, huh?" derek chimed in from his desk, his playful smile also on the sympathetic side.

you rolled your eyes, but allowed aaron to guide you up the few stairs into his office, gratefully.

he insisted you lay down on the couch (and not get up for the life of you), he insisted you keep the lights off, he insisted you use his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket.

"we'll head home once this concludes. if you need anything, give me a call, or send a text. i'll be here." aaron brushed your hair away from your forehead, placing a gentle kiss on it afterwards. "and, choice of soup is yours tonight."

[peachesofteal]

Soap on the escort mission with Cypher to her temporary base: they're both given rooms, but he tricks her into thinking they were only given one so they only have one shower and bed. He gets her into sleeping in the same bed, copping a feel and cuddling her so tight it feels like he's suffocating her

Oh my god yes but also this sent me off the deep end, sorry.

18+ mdni / soap x cypher (fem reader) / dark and twisty themes

First of all, the entire trip is nauseating. You weren’t given much notice. You’ve never ridden in a helicopter before, and Sergeant MacTavish has to show you how to buckle the straps, knuckles brushing along the tops of your thighs as he clips you in. You’re way outside of your comfort zone. You’re so off kilter, more changes, adjustments to your routines, more strangers. When you get to the outpost, it’s even worse. The systems are rudimentary. You can work with anything, because you’re good, but harvesting the data that Laswell has tasked you with is going to take longer than you’d like. The group you’re with is… small, as well, just you, Sergeant MacTavish, and Sergeant Garrick, who confidently ignores you unless you speak directly to him.

All of this piles and piles on top of you until you’re practically having a nervous breakdown on the first day. Nothing goes right, no one at the outpost is kind, and they all stare at you as you work, like you’re some kind of freak. You’re pretty sure you even hear someone make a joke about you under their breath, something cruel, something that sounds like the things kids used to call you in school. Awful, isolating things, things that always made you feel more alone than you already did. It picks at you, picking and picking, and then you break.

You run into Sergeant MacTavish in the hall, who stops you, alarmed. You try to tell him you need to go to your room, that you need some time to decompress and sit in the dark, but you can't get the words right, they come out messy and mixed up, and you get stuck on a few, repeating them more than once, embarrassment simultaneously trying to melt you into the floor. You’re ripping at the skin on your fingers, digging into the cuticles, trying to keep a lid on yourself when he informs you that the outpost is over occupied, and you’ll be bunking with him.

After the initial shock, he herds you with efficiency to the room, firm hand on your shoulder blade, and you’re surprised at how well the touch grounds you, closing your eyes, sinking into it, listening to the sounds around you, his breathing, the scratch of a door handle, a lock clicking closed.

"Keep 'em closed." He coos, and the command relaxes you. You like the dark, it comforts you, and you think he knows, because the lights never flick on, even though the room is nearly pitch, only one little window in a concrete box, the standard issue. When you don't respond, he hums, pulling you back into the warmth of his body. "Do ye need a lay down?" He murmurs into your hair, petting over your skin, under the neck of your shirt-jacket combo, and you nod, fingers still picking at your skin until his hands overtake them, separating them by force. "Words, sweet Cy."

"Yes, sir." You croak, and he rewards you, in a way, with his arm across your chest, pressing you harder against his front, his chest, stomach and waist, the pressure working like a tea kettle that's boiling, letting off steam.

"Good. That's good, bonnie. Let's get ye comfortable then." He works your clothes, unbuttoning your jacket, your pants. He lays you on your back, eyes still closed, pulling your boots off, divesting you of everything but your underwear, folding your feet onto the mattress together so your knees are bent, and then laid to the side, outwards. You let him move you, shift you around like a doll, unable to protest. The words just won't come out, half afraid you'll earn yourself a punishment, and half afraid he'll stop whatever he's doing right now. You don't want this, do you? Don't you? A hot mouth washes over the inside of your thigh, thumb pulling your panties to the side to expose your cunt, and he clucks his tongue. "Ye need a shave, wee sweet." Oh my god. Oh my god? Your cheeks burn, entire body doused in gasoline and then lit on fire with shame. "Dinnae worry, we wonae be doin' it tonight." His mouth is closer now, you can feel it, the thorned silk of his stubbled cheek against your leg, nose nudging into the curls between your legs. Your heart thumps inside your chest at the first contact of his tongue to your clit, and even with your eyes closed, you think you can see the moon, the sun, the fucking stars.

"Fffuuck." You moan, unable to keep yourself quiet, and he brushes his calculated touch back and forth at the perfect rate and speed, pad of his thumb rubbing soft circles into the flesh of your thighs at the same time, pressing them wider and wider, giving him more and more access to your weeping pussy.

"My sweet Cy." He breathes into your body, flicking around your clit, across it, electrical pulses spreading up through your belly. "Ye jus' need someone to help ye. Take care of ye and this bonnie pussy, aye? Treat it nice." He's working you over so well, like an expert on your body, pushing and pulling you towards the cliff, and you writhe on the bed, the burn spreading, shoving your too busy brain and too busy thoughts slowing slipping away with every second.

"Yeah." You pant, dumb. What? What are you saying?

"Want ye to come for me, baby." His voice goes serious, mouth pulling away a fraction, and you whine a little, confused. "But ye need to be good, and ask. Ask yer Sergeant for permission."

"S-s-sir. Can- Can I-" You struggle with it, brain overloaded, floating away on a cloud, and he smacks his palm against the flesh of your ass, from the side.

"Try again."

"Sir. Please. Pleeease. Can I- I come?"

"Aye, wee genius. Come for me, let me see it." It only takes a few more seconds, long strokes of mouth and tongue against you and then you're bursting into stardust, wild and fast orgasm slamming into you, as he coos to you about how good ye are, how ye wonae need anyone else now, he'll take care of everything, anything, how sweet, and your brain glitches trying to piece together his meaning until you're turning to putty, sinking deeper into the mattress under the aftershocks.

Later, not long after, he folds you into bed fully, nestled under the covers in the dark. He slides in behind you, blazing heat of his body against yours, hard cock against your ass in his boxers, and you gasp, squirming, trying to shift away until he tightens his grip, smothering you still, arms locking around you too tightly, and soothing you with calm touch in all the right spots until you're drifting off into sleep.

[borathae]

"You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were."

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, Smut

Warnings: pussy wetting porn, soft & hard Dom!Taehyung, whiney sub!Reader, she's a tease in the beginning, until he shows her what a real tease looks like, he kneels and kisses her feet in gratefulness, period sex, lotsa blood, he licks it from her pussy, and does some other kinky shit with it but it's a surprise besties, sloppy oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, gentle pussy fisting bitches, rough sex in multiple positions and locations (including his bed, the window, atop a dresser, his atelier), dirty talk, praise, good girl kink, degradation (he calls her his greedy slut), sexy possessiveness, Sir kink, huge vampire dicks, fangs, nipple play, marking, scratching (m.receiving), choking (f.receiving), strength kink, he's unhinged and feral, multiple intense orgasms for her, overstimulation, she's a lil masochist <3, Tae uses her pussy as his personal fleshlight, creampies, she subdrops but he reassures her, the softest aftercare, they're in love and kinky!!

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: i need to be restrained and put in a cage. cue brittany brosky's voice i am gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure 😶

You know where to find your darling. It is a rainy night and the air is chilly enough to make staying inside wonderful. There is only one place in the estate where Taehyung loves to be during those times. His atelier, painting and drawing away. The doors to it are open, the faintest of jazz music enters the corridors. He is painting. Just as you had figured. You know him so well.

You enter his atelier with a faint knock on his door.

“Tae darling?”

“Yes, my darling?” Taehyung asks with his full attention on you instantly. He even places his paint brush aside without breaking his eyes away from you for even a millisecond. He sniffles as if he noticed something, but stays quiet otherwise. His eyes scan you from head to toe and yet he still doesn’t say anything.

You close the distance between you and him. 

“I got my period today.” 

“I knew that I smelled something on you. Oh my darling, do not worry. I can get you everything you need”, he says and stands up to hurry to you, “just make me a list and I will drive to the store right away, unless you need a massage or hugs. Oh, I can give you everything.”

“You’re so sweet”, you say, “but I don’t need any of those things.”

“Yes? Then I shall keep my distance and talk only when necessary.”

“No, not that either.”

“What else could you possibly need?”

“Tae, I’m not wearing protection right now and it’s leaking into my panties.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows, “...yes? I…shall I buy you new sanitary products?”

“No, you,” you chuckle.

Taehyung chuckles as well eventhough he is very clearly confused. 

“Help me clean myself, Tae.”

“Oh, of course! Oh darling, why didn’t you say so sooner? Come, I shall run you a hot shower and scrub your back”, he says and takes your hand to walk off. 

You however pull him back, using the momentum to twirl him.

Taehyung laughs and falls into you.

“Darling, don’t do that.”

You fix him so he was facing you again.

“You didn’t understand me.”

“Okay?”

“Kneel, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Kneel for me.”

Taehyung falls to his knees as if it was instinct. He even places his hands in the proper position, looking up at you with questioning puppy eyes.

“I don’t seem to understand”, he confesses.

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you tell him and step closer. 

The sweet scent of your bleeding, warm pussy overtakes his senses. He tries not to, but still looks at your middle. You are wearing nothing more than an oversized cashmere cardigan and a pair of cotton panties. They are white, but soaked in blood. He feels his senses blur. You look and smell temptatious.

“Darling”, Taehyung croaks, pressing his legs together, “you are torturing me. I can smell but you.”

“Clean me, Taehyung”, you repeat your order and something seems to click in Taehyung’s brain

His head snaps up, his face is fallen in shock.

“What, what do you mean? What does this mean? What?” he stutters, blinking rapidly. 

You smile tauntingly, “you heard me. I’m messy and need you to clean me.” 

“But darling. Darling, you are covered in blood”, Taehyung is salivating as he speaks. His fangs are glistening in the lights. He is so consumed by your scent, aching to bury his face in your sweet heaven and yet he seems so perfectly in control.

“I know and I need a vampire to clean it.”

“___”, Taehyung presses out, “are you certain? What about Yoongi? I do not want him to think that I am feeding from you again. I don’t want to cause a fight.”

“Yoongi cleaned me too.”

“Pardon?” this confession is the most shocking to Taehyung. Obviously.

“Yeah”, you giggle, “do you remember last month? When I didn’t leave Yoongi’s wing for days?”

“Yes.”

“That was when I accidentally started my period in his bed and he ate me out like an animal.”

"Now this is", Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, “you are having a jest with me.”

You shake your head, continuing your story.

“He proceeded to keep me captive for the rest of my period to literally take me in far too many ways and positions and rooms and…yeah. Phew.”

“You are telling the truth?!”

“Yes. Of course I am”, you say and snicker at Taehyung’s shocked expression.

“Darling, I am flabbergasted. Yoongi drank your blood?” 

“He didn’t drink my blood. He ate my pussy, which just so happened to be bleeding, but that’s beside the point. He knows that I’m here and what I want to do with you. He doesn’t mind.” 

“Are you certain? Are you truly certain?” 

“Yes Tae, I’m certain. You’re the only one who can clean me right now.”

"Are, are you truly certain?"

"Every second wasted with talking means my panties are getting messier and messier", you say and lift your cardigan just slightly to reveal more of you to him.

Taehyung looks at it and crumbles.

“Darling you”, he touches your calves, looking up at you with devoted, starstruck eyes, “I exist to worship you. Every waking second should be spend being your greatest admirer. I-” 

He stops talking to instead bow down in front of you. Not only that, but to also kiss your feet. Every inch of them. Toe by toe and instep by instep. He kisses your feet as shaky mutters of “thank you” and “oh, how I am devoted to you” interrupt his needy sounds of admiration.

You let it happen with a racing heart. He looks so good worshiping your feet. 

“My goddess”, he says, hugging your legs and burying his nose deep in your middle. He inhales deeply, letting out a guttural moan, “oh my beautiful, bleeding goddess. I am delirious from your scent”, his voice is muffled from your body. 

You giggle, ruffling his hair. 

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy. I ache for your taste day by day. Oh my sweetest, you smell so wonderful.”

He tilts his head up, still hugging your legs. His eyes are ruby, his cheeks covered in black veins. You caress them, ending it by tugging a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You’re such a darling”, you speak softly, giving him a fond smile.

Taehyung buries his nose back in you, inhaling as much of you as his lungs allow him.

“Oh darling”, he moans as he exhales, shuddering uncontrollably, “how I want you.”

“You can have me. You know?”

“I know, oh I know”, he says and stands up, “I shall not take you here”, he says, sweeping you off your feet bridal style.

You squeal and giggle, falling around his neck for support. You don’t feel scared at all. He is your strong darling after all. Your weight feels like nothing to a vampire like him. He carries you with ease, basking in your giggles as you willingly let him kidnap you.

The journey ends in his bedroom. He places you atop his king sized bed, giving you no time to get used to the solace as he claims the space above you. Your cardigan got messed up from the movement, having slipped off one of your shoulders to reveal your skin to him.

Taehyung lowers his lips to your shoulder instantly, kissing your every inch from the very top of your shoulder down to where your collarbone blends into your sternum. His hands are on each side of your head, his knees are caging in your hips and yet he puts no weight on your lap. The distance aches. To have his weight so close, his touch even closer and not to receive it makes you restless. You squirm on the sheets, reaching up just to grasp his wrists.

“Patience”, Taehyung guides his lips to the shell of your ear just so he can seduce you with his sultry whispers, “I like to take my time with an exquisite meal.”

Being known so well by him makes you squirm once more. All you needed to do was to touch his wrists and he knew what you were craving most.

“I’m getting everything messy”, you sigh in hopes of warming his heart. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, kissing a path along your face until he reaches the other side of your neck to worship.

“This is the fun part”, he rasps and shakes his right hand free from your weak grasp to instead run it down your body.

You writhe into the touch, shivering intensely when he slips it under your cardigan to palm at your skin. Just for a few seconds and without ever touching your breasts, then he already slips it out again to dance it to your hip.

“The savouring you is the best part, my darling”, he teases, playing with the hem of your panties, “it gets you so wet”, you can feel his smirk against your skin, hear it in his voice, “and messy”, he adds, kissing the spot where your pulse races like crazy in your neck.

“Tae”, you mewl, arching into him.

This isn’t what you expected when you came to him for aid. You expected him to lose composure like Yoongi did. You expected him to take you and pin you, giving you no chance to escape as he selfishly takes what is his’. You wanted him to be the one panting and gasping as control slipped from his fingers with each lick and yet he is having you in a tight grip. He is in perfect control while you feel dizzy in desperation.

You should have known. Taehyung is a connoisseur for a good hunt after all. He loves to drag it out, to take his time and play with his prey until their resources are used up. The catch isn’t most pleasurable to him, but the path leading up to it. You know him so well and yet you still thought that you could get him to lose control so easily. Oh how naïve you were.

“Darling, you are squirming so much”, Taehyung rasps, holding your hips down with gentle strength, “what’s the matter? Am I rushing you?”

“No”, you mewl, shaking your head.

“No?”

You shake your head more vigorously, wiggling your hips under his grip.

“Look at you trying to squirm”, he taunts, “don’t tell me that you believed me to lose control like Yoongi did, mhm?”

You mewl from being so exposed. It should embarrass you, but it only makes you crave him more. 

Taehyung chuckles deeply, guiding his long fingers to your tummy just to play with your panties there.

“You should know me better by now”, he rasps, slipping his fingers inside just to toy with your pubes. He is obsessed with them, twirling and tugging on them gently to truly rile you up.

“Tae, please”, you try begging, making him smirk against your neck. 

He retreats his touch, drawing circles into the softness of your stomach. You want him so bad. 

“Open your cardigan for me.”

You obey even before he finishes his sentence. There are three buttons keeping you modest. You open them as quickly as possible, tugging the cardigan open to expose yourself to him. You slip it off your arms, letting it lay under you as you can’t be bothered to remove it completely. 

“Good girl”, Taehyung praises and sits up. He is kneeling, but still doesn’t put his weight on your lap. This is for show. To make you aware that he doesn’t need his weight to keep you pinned for him. His presence is enough to make you obedient.

Taehyung runs his eyes over your body, keeping his hands rested on his own thighs. The fabric of his linen pants stretches around them, bulging at his cock. He is hard. At least this he can’t hide from you. Even if he pretends to be in perfect control otherwise, at least his cock shows how much you affect him.

“Mhm”, he purrs, “beautiful.”

He looks at your panties. They are red in blood. His eyes flicker ruby. Finally another reaction. You part your legs upon seeing it, aching for him to act.

“How much do you treasure these undergarments?” he asks.

“They’re old and a little uncomfy”, you tell him.

“Good. Then I am sure you don’t mind if I do this”, he says and slips his fingers under the hem of them. He picks up a piece of them and looks at you, “may I?”

“Yeah…please.”

“So eager”, he chuckles and begins ripping the fabric, going carefully and slowly. It takes everything inside you not to squirm and beg him for more. Taehyung rips your panties at the other side as well, going just as slow and careful. It is as if he was opening a present or unwrapping a piece of candy. He does it with such a light-heartedness while you feel like shivering in desperation.

You lift your hips the second he managed to rip your panties apart. Taehyung chuckles and tugs the ruined fabric away.

“So eager”, he says, lifting your panties into his field of vision. He inspects them, parting his lips to show off his fangs. A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his ruby eyes flit to you, “this is your last chance to stop this, darling.”

“I don’t want to stop.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!” you insist loudly, “please Tae, don’t tease me anymore.”

He chuckles, “you’re such a delight, my darling”, he says and places your panties aside. He climbs off your lap, placing his hands on your thighs to push them apart. Not that he has to do a lot of work. The second he touched your thighs, you opened your legs for him. He meets your desperate eyes, giving you a knowing smile.

“So eager”, he speaks softly and sickeningly sweet. Oh, the things he manages to do with nothing but his voice.

“Please Tae, I’m messy.”

“Mhm, not messy enough”, he says and connects two of his fingers with your aching heat. 

“Ah”, you gasp, chasing the touch the second you received it. It feels so good. His fingers are so careful and his skin so soft. You needed his touch so incredibly much.

“So wet”, Taehyung whispers, dragging his fingers through your folds in a slow massage, “look at it covering your every inch. Darling, I crave you.”

He leaves out your clit on purpose, riling you up each time he swerves past it.

“More”, you try in hopes of persuading him, chasing his gentle touch.

“May I feel you inside?”

“Yes”, you exhale shakily, “yes please, Tae.” 

“Thank you so much”, he says and lets two of his fingers disappear inside you. You gasp and arch your back. They slip in so easily, fill you up so much. Taehyung watches your face for reactions and when he sees that no sign of discomfort crinkle it, he finally looks at your reddened cunt. Truly, how messy you are. It looks like the most delicious meal to Taehyung, forcing him to gulp heavily from all the saliva gathering in his mouth. He moves his hand, fingering your soft walls with gentle precision.

“Tae…” you sigh, letting your legs fall open. His fingers are so long, touching just where it feels the best.

“You feel wonderful, my darling”, he praises, curling his fingers, “you feel so tender inside. Tell me, are my fingers comfortable?”

“Yes”, you sigh, nodding your head vigorously.

“Oh, you feel so much more tender than on other days”, he whispers and slips another finger inside.

“A-ah”, your breath hitches in your throat, your fingers twist the sheets. To be so filled with Taehyung will never lose its spark.

“Breathe, my darling. You are tightening”, he orders you, soothing the stretch by drawing circles on your clit with his thumb. You are so wet from your period that the touch comes easy.

You inhale shakily, exhale in a tremble. You can’t control your walls from clenching, not when he makes you feel so good. You need to feel him as close as possible, so clenching comes natural to you.

“There we go. I need you to relax, otherwise I can’t prepare you for my length”, he speaks sweetly, soothing your trembles with gentle rubs to your lower stomach, “you are doing so well already.”

“Oh god…Tae”, you press out, rolling your head to the side in weakness. Being praised by him will always ruin you. You roll your hips up into his touch, moaning his name because this is all you can think of right now. Taehyung and only Taehyung.

He rewards your eagerness with yet another finger. He watches with deep red eyes as his pinkie finger slips into your wet cunt, how you welcome him and how you fit so perfectly around him.

“Four fingers darling, you are taking four of my fingers”, he rasps, keeping them still inside you to get you used to the stretch. He knows that it can be overwhelming and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Yet.

“Tae ple-please”, you get out in a shaky breath, reaching down to squeeze the hand he keeps on your stomach. You hold it with both hands, squeezing it so terribly much.

“Hurts?” he makes sure, caressing your skin.

You shake your head vigorously, grinding into his touch. His fingers slip deeper. Taehyung feels how your walls throb around his digits, tensing his own thighs as his every fiber tells him to ruin you. If you think that he wasn’t affected by all of this, you were wrong. It takes every ounce of self-control for Taehyung to stay as calm as he pretends to be right now. There are voices in his head. Distorted, tempting voices telling him to devour you, to use the advantages his curse gives him and take you as his sweetest meal.

But Taehyung has a plan. He wants this meal to be as perfect as possible. He wants you to think about it during random times of your day and feel so utterly affected by it that you falter in whatever you were doing a few moments ago, perhaps you even gasp for air and trace the spots he touched as you tried to relive the memory.

Taehyung needs to ignore the voices for the sake of the perfect feed. There is no other way.

You thrust your hips again, pulsating around his hand as your cunt swallows it hungrily. How wet you are inside, how warm and soft. Taehyung can touch your cervix this way, forcing you to keep still by pressing down on your tummy again. You squeeze his hand, whimpering his name while your hips give up without a fight.

“Stay still, don’t disobey”, he orders, pulling his fingers out just a little in order to give your tender cervix a break, “if you keep wiggling, it will hurt.”

“But it, it feels so good”, you get out and whimper, scratching at his hand gently as you try to grasp more, “Sir feels so good.”

Taehyung groans, furrowing his brows. Ruin her. The voices tempt him. Take her and break her. They taunt him.

“Darling”, he presses out through gritted fangs, “fuck, you make me act up”, he spits and gives into his desires.

He pins you down with his weight, wrapping his blood-soiled hand around your throat to press down on your veins.

Dizziness claims your brain instantly, a squeaky gasp leaves your lips. You meet his gaze, meeting desperate craze in it. His pupils are so blown-out that they almost swallow the red, the black veins pulsate on his cheeks. He is breathing heavily and shakily, doing so in deep, desperate breaths.

“How dare you call me such titles. Do you have any idea what this does to me?” he is growling his words with a hint of demonic raspiness in his voice. He tilts your head up with a tight grip on your throat, “what I want to do to you when you talk like this?”

“Sir”, you choke out, grasping his strong lower arm. It feels so good to be choked. It finally feels as if you are breaking his composure. You couldn’t escape his grasp even if you tried as hard as you can, but you aren’t scared. You are so entirely happy to be here.

Taehyung’s features darken, his unoccupied hand grasps your hands and guides them down your body. He lodges them between your waist and his thighs, turning you unable to move them. You can’t even wiggle them, let alone change their position. He is so strong and you are utterly at his mercy.

“Stop calling me this”, he hisses and slams his hand into the pillow beside your head. He moves in closer, breathing deeply. He shudders and growls. His blood-soiled hand covered your entire neck in blood, tempting him to taste you. He moves in closer, rolling your head to the side to reveal your vulnerable neck to his lips. He inhales again, moaning deliciously.

Your heart is racing. The grip around your neck lessened, but you still feel dizzy.

“How I need you”, he gets out and moves in. His bloodied fingers leave your neck, his dripping tongue replaces them. You tense up and moan, feeling burning electricity shoot through your veins.

Taehyung moans and presses himself closer, feasting on your neck as if it was the first meal he ever tasted. He missed this so much that he almost starts crying. And to have it taste like your sweet cunt as well, oh Taehyung has to reach up and grab the edge of the pillow, caring rather little about soiling it with blood. He pins you deep into the mattress, increases the pressure on your arms. You shouldn’t escape him. Not when he finally has the taste of your blood under his tongue. By the time, he has finished cleaning one side, your flesh is bruised and sensitive. He didn’t bite you, even if his fangs kept gracing your skin, but the sensitivity is still intense.

“You are my downfall”, he is panting, fixing your head so your other side was exposed, “I want to ruin you”, he adds and latches himself onto your tender neck.

“Sir”, you whimper, lying completely still even if you want to writhe and squirm and arch your back. It feels so good. His mouth is so much hotter than on normal days.

Taehyung worships your neck almost every time you and he are intimate. You know how good it feels, but this feels different. This kind of worship, you always received when the taste of your blood was involved and you forgot how much better it feels. His mouth is burning, his tongue so wet and eager, his sucks are inhumanly desperate and his fangs keep tickling your skin. You feel so dizzy, whimpering his title because this is all you can do.

“Oh darling”, he chokes out shakily, abandoning your cleaned and sensitive neck to lick down your body. He releases your arms this way, but you are too weakened to move them.

Taehyung changes your positions as he eagerly explores the paths down to your cunt. He reaches just about under your ribcage when everything is taking too long for him and he uses his powers. His arms grip your legs, using the leverage to turn you on the mattress so you are facing the side of his bed. He proceeds to tug you to the edge of it, falling to his knees before you as his arms pull your hips off the sheets and he can bury his face in your bloodied cunt. This is the only position which allows him to suffocate himself with you and it is also the only way he can truly make sure that you can’t flee. With his arms having an iron grip around your thighs and his hands digging deep into the softness of you, he has you where he wants you. Spread open and cunt on top his face.

He growls deeply, shutting off his better senses as your sweetened taste claims his tongue.

“Tae”, you moan, arching your back even if it is hard to do so in the current position, “ah! Oh god! What t-the hell? Ah!”

The thing about Taehyung’s nose? It is beautiful, ethereal, sculpted by the heavens and goddamn fucking perfect to grind against a sensitive pussy. And the thing about Taehyung? He is crazy enough to do it. Even if this gets his face messy and bloody, even if it means that your scent makes his eyes water from the intensity of it and even if you reach down and pull his hair. You pull so hard, so desperately and it does nothing. Taehyung fucks your sensitive pussy with his nose as deep growls vibrate against it. And while he grinds his perfect nose against your throbbing clit, his dripping tongue fucks your hole at inhuman speeds. He needs to get everything. Every single droplet of your taste. He is delirious from the sweetness, bruising your thighs on accident because of how tightly he grips you.

“Fuck, your taste”, he is cursing, growling the words against your cunt. It means a lot when he curses. He only does so when he is especially emotional. And right now every single emotion runs on nothing but you and your taste. He is consumed by you just as much as he consumes you. He doesn’t even care about etiquette, dirtying his face as he slurps loudly. 

Taehyung is a very mannerly feeder. Not many vampires carry such etiquette when they feast, but Taehyung likes to be orderly and neat. He rarely gets his face dirty, let alone make obscene sounds, but you make him forget about every single thing he ever learned about manners. He needs to get dirty, he needs to be disgusting and loud and consume your every drop. 

Too long he had to go without your taste and now that he finally has it again – in such a wonderful way on top of it – he is greedy. Manners be damned, he needs to eat you until you have nothing more to give. 

“Oh god Tae, oh god, oh god”, you are gasping and chanting and fighting for air, pulling at his hair even if you know that it is fruitless. He is locked onto your pussy. No hair pulling in the world could get him away from you now. His nose is punishing your clit for crimes she never committed while his mouth sucks and licks you dry. 

This is the level of desperation you wanted from him and now that you have it, it feels like too much. Not in a way where you truly want him to stop, but in a way which will force you to orgasm even if you had no intention of doing so already.

“You’re the worst, oh god urgh”, you choke out and break, suffocating him with your pussy as he forces you to orgasm. You gasp for air, sob, “you’re so mean. Tae please.”

Taehyung growls into you, pulling you closer. He can’t breathe, at least not normal air. The scent of your blood and orgasm is the only air he receives. He regrets his entire life at this moment because he wonders why he didn’t think of eating your pussy during your period sooner. Oh he missed out on so much. What a fool he was. He presses himself closer, searches for more of your taste even if you are flinching in overstimulation.

“Please a break, please”, you beg, writhing in agony, “please Sir, please!”

Taehyung breaks away from you even if it is difficult. You begged for it and he can’t deny you. He fixes your positions again, making it so you are resting with your head facing the headboard and he is between your legs. It’s so easy for him to push and pull you around. Especially when he has you so weakened from pleasure.

He is pressing his clothed cock against your thigh while his ruined mouth attacks your nipples. He is rubbing his face against them first, soiling your skin with your blood just so he can lick it off of you. He needs to cover every inch of you in your red nectar just to lick it off. Oh how he needs it. 

“Oh god, Tae you are so mean”, you get out breathlessly, “I, I didn’t want to cum. Oh god.”

“Do not speak to me of cruelty when you exist to ruin me”, he gets out, lifting his head, “why would you do this to me? Why?” he is asking you, cupping your face to shake your head in desperation, “what have I ever done to you? Tell me.”

You look at him. His face is a mess, covered in your blood. It soaks parts of his hair as well and sticks to spots on his throat. His eyes are dark red, bordering black and his face is just slightly contorted as his monstrous side fights for dominance. You know that he is winning by only a hair’s width right now.

“Why must you do this to me? Isn’t it enough that I dedicate my every fiber to you? Why must you seduce me with your bleeding heaven? Why?” he asks you and presses his cock against your pussy.

“Tae”, you squeak, flinching in reaction. He feels so heavy and big, grinding down on you even if you are so incredibly sensitive.

He thrusts into you as if he was already fucking you, sliding his hands to the crown of your head. He holds you with enough strength that you have to look at him if you wanted to or not.

“I need you to push me away”, he croaks, “push me away. It is the only way to stop me from ripping my clothes off and fucking you until you have to relearn how to walk.”

The thing is. The small break he gave you as he sucked your nipples and begged for answers you didn’t possess, was enough for you. You want more. You want him. All of him.

“I don’t want to push you away”, you tell him, reaching up to open his shirt.

“Don’t do this. Don’t do this if you aren’t ready to bear the consequences”, he warns you, dropping your face to instead twist the pillow. The voices are screaming at him. Claim her! She is yours to take, so take her! It is so difficult to stay human when remnants of your taste still linger on his tongue.

You pull open his shirt and touch his nipples. Taehyung growls. 

“Don’t. I am warning you”, he gets out. 

Your lips curl into a dangerous smirk, “you can teach me how to walk, can’t you? Sir.”

“Fuck”, he breaks. He rips his own clothes off his body before claiming the space atop you. He grips your leg and pulls you close, slapping his heavy cock against your pussy in an almost punishing way. 

You flinch and moan softly, feeling your senses blur. It hurts, but you like it. Taehyung does it again, forcing incredible pleasure through your pussy. 

“Do you really want this?” he asks as he repeatedly drags his cock through your swollen folds, ending it with an aggressive spank to your clit each time.

“Yes”, you sigh, parting your legs further and arching your tits closer to him.

“Beg me.”

“Please Sir, please”, you beg gladly. 

“You’re such a good little slut. I trained you so well”, he lulls and pushes his thick cock past your soaked entrance. He slips in without resistance, forcing a trembling breath to slip past his lips, “such a good slut”, he presses out, scrunching his nose in pleasure.

He hits your limit. You are so much tighter than on other days. Taehyung still has a good two inches he could fit. The thought turns him on so much. That he fills you out to your literal brim and he still has more to offer. And he is only showing off his human size right now. He is so big. Oh, how it fills him with pleasure and confidence.

“Oh”, you let out, growing limp underneath him. Your eyes flutter closed.

“Keep your eyes open”, he orders darkly.

You obey even if it is difficult.

“That’s better. Keep them on me”, he speaks demandingly, fucking his huge cock into you in dragged-out, maddening strokes, “I need you to look me in the eyes as you realise what all of this begging will get you. You think you can handle me? You think that not pushing me away is a good idea? That I will not completely rewrite your definition of pleasure? Sweetest, you have driven me to the brink of insanity with your endless begging”, he rasps, curling his lips back to show off the two pairs of fangs in his mouth. You know what this means and how feral you have gotten him.

“Tae”, you sob, grabbing his chest because this is as far as your weakened arms can go.

“What’s the matter? Does it hurt?” he asks. Even now he checks up on you. Even when he speaks of insanity and looks like a monster, he checks up on you. Bear in mind, the question carried a hint of teasing to it, but more than anything it was honest and came from a loving heart.

“No”, you whimper.

“But?”

“You feel so good”, you wail, squeezing your eyes shut as your body trembles in pleasure.

“Mhhm sweetest”, Taehyung purrs, burying himself deeper inside you. He is holding back tonight. You are so tender inside, your changed anatomy allows for his human size to barely fit. If he allowed the monster to take over, he fears that he might rip you apart. He could never rip you apart, even if the voices tell him to. No, he won’t let them win. He will break you in his way. Fuck you until your spirit is broken and you exist for him. This is so much more fun either way.

So he fucks slow and he fucks precise. He knows a woman’s body well enough to be aware that sometimes less is more. That all a woman needs are precise, attentive grinds against her spots so deep inside.

His own instincts tell him to fuck fast, to drill you and reshape your insides, but he knows not to rush it. Drag it out. He is still in control of the voices. Drag it out. Keep the hunt going. This isn’t the last time he will taste you tonight. The feed isn’t over. This is just another part of the chase.

The attentive, precise fuck he gives you is hard to handle. You think that you could manage a lot better if he drilled you like a dumb animal. But this? This ruins you on another level. You claw at his chest and try to get him closer by wrapping your legs around him. You manage to drape them over his thighs weakly and that is as far as you can go before the mindnumbing pleasure makes you shake.

“Tae”, you sob, spilling tears and scrunching your face up while Taehyung looks at you with a sense of tranquillity surrounding him. You are so ruined while he barely lets it show.  

“Look at me”, he says into the symphony of moans and shaky breaths.

You obey even if it is hard.

“Did I ever tell you why I am calling you my sweetest?” he asks.

“No”, you whimper.

Taehyung leans closer, letting his hot breath swirl over your lips. His cock bends and stretches you out even more. 

“Because there is no taste sweeter than you”, he rasps and purrs, writing his name on your deepest spots while his eyes flash up bright red.

“Tae”, you squeakily beg, “Tae, I need to cum again.”

“Yes? Just like this? I am barely even moving and it is making you climax?” 

“Yes”, you whimper.

“Of course it does. You are such a good little slut for big cock. I know you darling, you’re so sensitive and so overstimulated and yet you still beg for more”, he speaks tauntingly while his cock makes the sweetest love to your deepest spots. The pleasure sits in your tummy. So, so deep that it gets hard to concentrate. You feel on fire and he hasn’t even broken you yet. 

“Hm, sweetest? Are you my greedy cock slut?”

You nod your head. 

“Then tell me or I’ll stop fucking you.”

“I’m…greedy- ah”, you squeeze your eyes shut, “you’re making me cum.”

“Not so fast”, Taehyung slows down but moves his hips just right to keep you on edge. The build-up isn’t ruined, but dragged out for as long as he sees fit.

“Please”, you squeak.

“Use your words and I will reward you. Come now, don’t disobey me”, he encourages you, caressing your cheek gently.

You try again because you don’t want to disobey him. 

“I’m your, ah, your cock slut. Ah, Tae please. Please let me cum, please.”

“You are such a good girl. Sir is so proud of you. My bestest girl”, he praises and rewards you with deep, circular motions against your sensitive spots. This is going to break you and he knows it.

“I’m cumming. Tae, thank you”, you sob and arch your back, “ah! Tae!”

“That’s it. You’re doing such a good job. That’s my good girl. That’s it”, he is talking you through it, dragging out your orgasm to the point where you grip the sheets and twist them. 

But Taehyung isn’t satisfied. Yes you are gripping the sheets, but this is not what you should grip. Not when his body is right there. Unmarked. He isn’t done with you yet until he has you hurting him from pleasure.

“I am not done with you yet”, he is purring his words, keeping an obsessive grip on your left hip, “tell me to stop. Tell me to fucking stop, I can’t do it on my own.”

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Shit”, Taehyung growls and takes your hands just to pin them above your head. He speeds up his hips, finally using momentum to drill his cock into you. It sounds wet. So wet. Embarrassingly wet even. And harsh. His skin connects with yours in loud slaps while the springs of his bed creak in protest. Truly, it is a wonder that the furniture in this estate survived as long as it did.

“Oh god”, you gasp and writhe, “oh god, oh god, oh god. Ah!”

“Tell me to stop. Tell me, darling”, he is panting, staring at you with deep red eyes. Your blood is lingering on his skin and filling his nose with a maddening scent. Your orgasm sticks to his cock and mixes with your sweet scent. You are pulsating in your afterglow, burning hot because he doesn’t allow the fire to die down. He is so furiously desperate for you. 

You shake your head.

“Faster please”, you beg.

“This is not what you were supposed to say. Oh, you greedy, insatiable woman. I can’t stop”, he rasps and moans, dropping on top of you and knocking a squeak out of you. 

He reaches above your hands, growling into your neck. His long fingers grip the pillow and twist. The cover rips within a second. His back muscles flex and twitch as his body shudders in the pleasure of being with you. 

“I can’t stop myself”, he growls and picks you up. He runs with you in his arms and on his cock until your back hits something icy.

You squeak, looking around yourself. You are outside his bedroom, fucking against the tall windows of his corridor. Outside the night is dark and ominous while inside, Taehyung takes you against the cold windows in a pitch black corridor. The only light source is his bedroom. The door is thrown open from his strength, the golden light paints a rectangle on the marble floor and red carpet. It hues Taehyung’s body in it as well, creating a play of shadow and light. His pearls of sweat are glistening in it, while his black, pulsing veins seem especially dark and throbbing. He lifts his head from your neck, giving view to the deep red of your blood, his burgundy eyes and the ebony mess of his hair sticking to his features. 

“Tae”, you keen, feeling light-headed. The coldness of the window feels miniscule in comparison to the fire he lets you experience.

“I have to take you against every surface of this wing until the very fibres of this building know your every moan”, he chokes out as he bounces you on his cock. Quick and punishing. Your tits bounce, your pussy squirts red pleasure and your limbs can barely hold on. You throw your head back and wail. 

Wail in pleasure because nothing feels better right now than Taehyung's cock reshaping your insides. 

“Yes darling, show them. Show them how my good girl sounds as I fuck her.”

“Tae I have to- again!”

“Climax as often as you need to. I won’t stop you.” 

“Tae!”

And as you shake in his arms and soil his entire lower body with your bloody orgasm, Taehyung slows down to drag it out again. He fucks you deep, slow and punishing until you claw at his shoulders to the point of open scratches. And then, only then, he pulls you closer. Your back leaves the window, his cock fills you up so deep. Movement. Clattering of stuff hitting the ground. Next, wood under your body and Taehyung holding your legs apart.

This is the drawer he keeps by the entrance of his wing. Normally he keeps his outdoor essentials on it, but they are currently on the floor as he uses the piece of sturdy furniture to fuck you into a state of senselessness. The light of the atelier shines onto the corridor and gives you a chance to see what he is doing. Not that you have a lot of your vision at this point.

“Every surface darling, every single surface until you tell me to stop”, he growls. His dark hair is hanging into his ruby eyes, giving him an aura of danger. You know him to be of no danger to you, finding the view nothing but arousing instead. You are scared though, not of him of course, but of the immense pleasure he makes you feel. No human should feel this good and yet you do. Truly, you are so scared, craving more until you can’t anymore.

“Tae please, Tae…”

He pulls his cock out and pumps it angrily. It is messed up in your blood, dripping translucent desperation. Taehyung uses the sinful concoction to pleasure himself while his crazed eyes flit to your pussy. 

“You’re gaping”, he assess and growls, “my pretty gaping slut. My cock ruined you and it’s not even my true size.”

He is using contractions. Taehyung rarely uses them. You have him ruined, you truly have. 

“Sir, I’m your cock slut”, you mewl, writhing desperately.

“Fuck, I want to break you.”

Thump.

He fell to his knees before you, connecting his mouth with your pussy instantly. Well fucked and creamed with his taste. Taehyung moans and slips his tongue as deep as possible. His taste of possession mixes with your blood. He growls, fucking his own cock sore from how angrily he jerks himself. He feels like an animal right now. His vampiric nature has a hold of him, there is not an ounce of sanity left in him. The only thing which keeps him grounded, is the punishing handjob he gives himself. The pain and roughness of it keeps him with you.

Taehyung isn’t the only one who experiences pain right now. You are so sensitive that his tongue feels like torture on your pussy. A torture you chase with weak squirms of your hips.

“Slow please”, you beg without meaning it, gripping the edge of the dresser, “please, ah! Please!” 

Taehyung lifts his lips for your sake. He puts your feet on his shoulders, looking up at you even if you have your head rolled to the side weakly. 

“Keep breathing for me”, he orders you and dives back down. 

“How should I- ah!” you arch your back, digging your feet into his shoulders as you try to squirm. He is dragging his tongue through your folds quickly, taking advantage of the position to really taste every inch of you. You squirm, “please slow, please.”

“Breathe darling, breathe”, he murmurs against your pussy and concentrates his licks on your clit. 

“Oh god, Tae”, you wail, dropping into the hard dresser in defeat. You have to take what he gives you. You signed up for this and now you are paying the sweetest consequences. 

The last few orgasms sat deep and didn’t originate from your clit. No, Taehyung dragged them out of you from the deepest parts of your cunt. He doesn’t need the most obvious spot to make you shake and because he doesn’t, the stimulation he gives you right now feels especially good. Your clit was so left out, so neglected it felt as if he was edging it. And now you have his burning, slickened-up tongue frenching it aggressively. 

“Slow please”, you beg, trying to breathe. 

The only reason why you beg for him to slow down is because it is so goddamn embarrassing how fast you orgasm with him. You managed to take in one song coming from his atelier’s record player and then you are already fighting for your right to sanity. Please, just once you want to have to fight for your orgasm. Just once, you want to feel as if it will never come. 

“Sir. Tae Sir. Please.”

But of course Taehyung doesn’t listen. Because Taehyung isn’t human right now and you are his feast. Taehyung hates being interrupted when he feeds. And so you are destined to find your downfall at the tip of his dripping tongue while the very fibres of this building learn the sound of your moans. And so you scream and wail and beg him for mercy. And Taehyung doesn’t listen until he has you filling his throat with your squirt. It mixes with your blood and forces Taehyung to climax all over his hand.

He growls into your pussy, scrunching his face because the orgasm feels like torture. He purposefully doesn’t allow it to feel good. He crushes his own balls and slaps his own cockhead because this is what keeps him human. He can’t allow himself to enjoy his heaven when this could mean your downfall.

“Sir! Please! It hurts! Ah please!”

You wonder if people outside can hear you. You are so close to his exit after all. 

Taehyung doesn’t give you time to think of this possibility as he keeps you with him the second your endless orgasms stopped. He picks you up from the dresser and the next time you find yourself feeling at least a little sane, you are in his atelier, sitting on his lap as he occupies his couch. He uses said couch to pose you or Jungkook in the most beautiful position. Most of the time, they are very sensual poses however if you are allowed to be blunt for a second. 

You drop into him, trembling atop his lap. His body is wet. Sweat, blood, squirt and his own cum. The sensations overwhelm you, forcing you to sob and tremble. Taehyung soothes it by running his hands up and down your back.

“Are you still enjoying this, darling? You are shaking so much”, he is checking up on you again. He treats you so fucking good.

You nod your head, twisting his hair weakly.

“Please more, please”, you beg him, drooling all over his shoulder because you can’t swallow anymore. Not when he has broken you so, so good.

“Such a greedy slut”, he says and picks you up to sit you down on his cock. He has grown into his vampiric size by now, resulting in him having to carry you as he moves you up and down on his length. You couldn’t possibly take him all. Not when you are already so entirely destroyed from everything he did to you. He doesn’t mind that he has to carry you. On the contrary, it is so utterly arousing to him to use you as his personal little fleshlight. Well-fucked, gaping and dripping sweet blood. There is no toy more perfect than you. 

“Oh god”, you get out, pressing yourself closer to him. You can feel the remnants of his orgasm smearing all over your walls. It sounds so wet. You are so tight and swollen that it makes the nastiest sucking sounds each time he moves you up. 

This wasn’t a good idea. You thought that you still had an orgasm in you, but you were wrong. The thought exhausts you. You can’t give him any more. You are used up. Utterly and truly used up.

“I can’t cum anymore”, you get out, crying tears, “please don’t make me cum again, oh god.”

“Keep being good for me. I promise, it’s not long anymore”, he encourages you, meeting his movements in the middle by rolling his hips up. 

“Tae”, you whimper, soiling his skin with your tears, “sensitive. I can’t cum anymore.”

“I know darling, I know. You’re so good, such a good girl. I have to climax again. I’m almost there, keep being good for me.”

“Oh god”, you croak and hug him desperately, “Tae…”

“Almost there, darling”, he breathes and squeezes your buttocks, “help me, mhm? Do you want to help me reach it?”

“Yes, Sir. Please.”

“That’s my good toy”, he praises and kisses your cheek, “cover your fingers in your blood and feed it to me.”

You follow his orders happily, reaching behind yourself to drag your fingers through the mess your bodies make between your legs. More. You bury two of your fingers in your pussy even if his cock is already taking so much of you. 

“Yes”, he growls, throbbing deep inside, “oh, so tight”, he sighs under his breath, tilting his head back as a guttural moan leaves him. 

You slip your fingers out, staring at them with teary eyes. They are so messy, covered in thick blood. Taehyung stares at them as well, tightening his grip on your body as his hips chases your heat. 

Your eyes meet. 

He sticks his tongue out. Fangs appeared on his lower teeth as well, glistening in the lights. 

“Tae”, you whimper and press your fingers down on his tongue. 

He growls and closes his mouth around them, rolling his eyes back in bliss. He doesn’t bother closing his lids, keeping them open halfway to give view of his ruined state. He growls and moans, growls and moans, sucks, thrusts his hips and whimpers. His once deep, demonic voice switches into the highest, most desperate squeak and seconds later you feel him filling you with his hot cum. 

You are so sensitive that even his cum painting your walls feels like too much. You drop your head on his shoulder, losing your every strength as Taehyung pumps you full of his orgasm. 

Your fingers slip out of his mouth once he has to gasp for air.  

“Oh heavens”, he lets out, lifting you off his cock just to drop you atop his lap. His cun squirts everywhere instantly. 

He wraps his arms around you tightly, shuddering in his intense afterglow, “oh my darling”, he breathes, burying his face deep in the crook of your shoulder, “how are you doing?”

“I don’t know”, you whimper, “Sir, please don’t let go.”

Taehyung hugs you tighter, soothing your trembles with tender hands running over your body. 

“I am right here, my darling. Oh, how well you did. How proud I am of you”, he speaks sweetly, washing away the aches from your heart.

Sex like tonight often times leaves you feeling embarrassed and disgusted at yourself. You can’t explain it and it isn’t your lovers’ fault. It is just hard to accept that you let yourself go in such ways once the ecstatic pleasure clears from your mind. If Taehyung would let go of you right now, you would have an actual mental breakdown. You need his comfort like you need air. 

And Taehyung knows that you need it. He is shaken himself, feeling ruined from the sex and dizzy from the blood high. He needs to hold and be held just as much as you do, but he is also aware that you need so much more comfort than he does. 

“You did so well”, and so he praises you, kisses your shoulder and sways you gently, “you are so precious and worthy of so much love. Oh darling, how much I love you.”

You release a trembling breath and with it so much pressure on your heart. Taehyung soothes the aches in your neck with a gentle hand, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as his whispers continue. 

“I am so blessed, my sweetest darling. Thank you so much for giving me a right to your beautiful body. Oh, how I want to spend every remaining second of this day worshipping it.”

You giggle. Warmth fills Taehyung’s heart. He helped you through the hardest part of coming back. He chuckles with you, turning your head gently to press a kiss to your cheek and next your closed eyelid. You scrunch your face, chasing him with a happy giggle shaking your shoulders.

He giggles as well, smiling against your skin. 

“My good girl”, he whispers, pecking your cheek, “my sweetest darling. Mhm, my sweet ___.”

“Tae”, you sigh, nudging his cheek with your nose before lifting your head to meet his eyes. You are basically glowing in happiness, “Tae…”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Thank you”, you say and scrunch your nose, “I feel so good.”

“Yes?” he smiles, cupping your cheek, “I feel good as well, my darling. You make me so proud.”

You giggle, leaning into his palm. You close your eyes and sigh, letting your shoulders fall in relaxation.

“Should we take a shower, my darling?” he offers. 

“Yeah”, you nod your head, peeling your eyes open. You snicker, cupping his cheeks, “you’re so dirty. Oh god, Tae there’s blood everywhere.”

“I know, it’s wonderful”, he says and smiles playfully, “I hope that is just your period. I made sure to be careful, but you were so tender today.”

“You were perfect. It didn’t hurt at all”, you assure him and wiggle your shoulders, “I’m so happy. I really like it when you are rough with me and this was perfect.”

“Yes, yes it was perfect for me as well”, Taehyung says and hugs you close. He stands up with you in his arms, “I shall take care of you and then we shall find sleep in the library.”

“Yes, wow”, you gasp, “can you read me a story then?”

“I will read you not one, but two stories my darling”, he says, making you giggle and snuggle closer. 

“Maybe three?”

“Of course, oh what a question. I will read you even four stories.”

“Wow”, you snicker and squeeze him gently, “I’m happy.”

Taehyung smiles, bouncing you in his arms gently to tighten his grip.

“I’m happy as well, darling”, he tells you, making a promise to himself to dedicate tonight solely to your happiness.

He will do an amazing job. He is your perfect darling after all.

[n0ts0surel0ck]

Some autistic Sherlock headcanons!!

Based on my own autism

Sherlock hates getting his hair cut. He can’t wear ear defenders and he despises the small talk and how loud the clippers and blow dryers are. So, he generally wears his hair long and/or cuts it himself. Mariana eventually starts cutting it for him, since it equally bothers him when his hair touches his ears or neck. She’s just… not very good at it.

John finds a salon for Sherlock that does sensory appointments. It’s a silent appointment, so he doesn’t have to talk, and John gets him some earplugs to help with the noise. They’re not as good as his ear defenders but they do for the short time it takes to get his hair done. He mostly gets a dry scissor cut so he doesn’t have to be wet and so the clippers don’t touch him. He doesn’t like the vibration. He finds that he actually enjoys the sensation of a blow dryer when the sound isn’t overwhelming him. The heat and the air pressure are soothing.

Sherlock is very particular about fabrics. He despises polyester and other scratchy, synthetic fabrics. Everything he wears has to be 100% cotton. If he got his way, he’d wear an old pair of holey, decade old pajama pants and a jumper everywhere, but he doesn’t. He understands that he has to be presentable. He likes linen, the material doesn’t touch him as much, doesn’t stick to sweat, and allows for plenty of airflow. During spring and summer, and often stretching into fall and winter, he wears a pair of grey linen trousers. When it finally gets too cold, he switches to a pair of cotton ones that have an elastic waist band. He hates when there’s a lot of pressure below his diaphragm, so he keeps it loose. Shirts are mostly tees in the summer, a bit too big so they don’t touch him much. In the winter, he wears big sweatshirts, a half-peacoat, and a green scarf.

He’s been buying men’s high-top converse since he was in middle school and refuses to wear any other shoe. They’re comfortable, allow him to move without being heard, and don’t add to his height. He hates breaking in new ones, and so holds on to the ones he’s wearing for dear life. John has seen him wrap duct tape all the way around his shoe to keep the sole from falling out before.

His bedroom is kept perfectly organized by absolutely agonizing effort. He is particular about that space, since it’s where he rests. He doesn’t work in there. His chemistry equipment is in the living room and he never goes into the room on cases unless John forces him to change clothes. His room is a sensory heaven that he works tirelessly to keep so. Cleaning is difficult for him, but he resets the space every time he leaves it, even when he’s in a rush.

The rest of the apartment is a bust. His executive dysfunction takes over as soon as he crosses the threshold into the hallway. He leaves toothpaste uncapped, cups and plates everywhere, clothes wherever they fall. It drives John insane and he tries to clean up after himself, but it feels like an insurmountable task.

His hyper fixations overtake conversation constantly. Sometimes he and John will engage in conversation that is just… incomprehensible to those around them. John’s talking about the weather and Sherlock’s talking about Pendolino trains. Neither is acknowledging the other’s topic of conversation, but they’re responding to each other in turn and seemingly having a lovely time.

He likes to stim “with” John when something exciting happens. He grabs both of John’s hands so they’re facing each other and has John pull him back and forth quickly. He likes it when John and Mariana mimic a stim back to him, especially vocal ones. When the three of them are in the office together, it’s just an echo chamber of mouth pops and buzzes.

Sherlock respects the fuck out of routine. His in unconventional, but he follows it almost religiously. This means he respects other’s routines just as aggressively. He never moves John’s items, and if he borrows anything, he puts it back exactly where it was, position and all. He noticed John folding laundry in a certain way and now, if he steals one of John’s shirts and washes it after, he folds it in that certain way.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. pop star!bakugou. prior breakup mention. based on the story behind the eyes, nose, lips mv, iykyk.

Even if you guys are closer than can be, your friends are typically more likely to text before they call, especially at this time of night, and less likely are they to accost you in a sudden video call the way they are now. You were asleep, just by stroke of luck waking up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your end table, too exhausted to put your phone on Do Not Disturb. It’s just a few minutes after midnight, 12:06 am to be exact, and when you pick up the phone, both of them appear frantic.

“Oh, thank God.”

“___, please tell me you’re away from a phone right now.”

“Dumbass, we’re literally calling her on the phone right now.”

“Don’t call me a dumbass.”

Still rubbing your eyes, you let out a sigh.

“Why did you two call me?” You’re still horizontal, trying to orient yourself while lowering your phone brightness. It’s entirely dark in your room, and you’ve been exhausted all day between errands and other activities, including a single 25 minute cry over your failed relationship.

It’s been 3 months since you and Katsuki split, and while you’ve overall been handling it quite well, intermittently the sadness overtakes you. After all, it was abrupt.

Dating a pop star was not all it’s cracked up to be, especially when it ends abruptly over a dinner you could never afford yourself with the words “take care of yourself, okay?” from a man you’d planned the rest of your life with. The last thing you’d asked him to do before that was to go public, and he’d been hesitant to, and you don’t know what happened between then and that night, because it all ended all too quickly, with you crying on the limo ride home. 

3 months later and you were almost over it until you chanced on a photo you’d forgotten to hide away in your digital memoirs and proceeded to sob.

“So uh… have you spoken to Katshole recently?”

You roll your eyes at the nickname your friend has given him, not bothering to tell her now to be nice. “No.”

It still annoys you. “Please stop calling him that.”

“Fine.”

Your other friend sighs.

“So uh, anyway, he dropped a video.” You raise your eyebrow.

“I mean, sure. Is the girl in it hot?” you ask. You pretend you haven’t been looking at his social media intermittently, trying to see if there was someone new in his life, but either way Katsuki prided himself on keeping his private life hidden away, so you wouldn’t be able to tell unless it was someone equally famous or advantageous to his career.

Your two friends both grimace at the same time. One says, “I mean yes, but not in the way you think.”

You blink.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You’re up and seated now, bedsheets pulled to your lap. You’ve minimized the video and are now typing his name into Google, and can see, indisputably, that he’s posted a new music video.

“Why did you guys wake me up for this?”

“Babe, listen to me carefully. If you’re not ready to get back together, do not click this video.”

Your heart thumps, while both of your friends watch you with bated breath, as your face contorts, trying to figure out what that means.

“I-”

“You’re in the video.”

You blink rapidly, your eyebrows still furrowed together, as your heart rate starts to pick up. Your mouth opens then closes.

You’re in the video.

“She’s done for,” one of your friends says, reading the look on your face, and sighs. “I’m gonna hang up, I’ll see you in the morning.”

All of you say your goodnights, and of course, you remain up, your face basking in the blue light of your cell phone, as you watch Katsuki’s urgent music video supposedly with you in it.

The video culminates in Katsuki, standing by a painted mural, and you recognize the photo, an image of your face from the first time he flew you out to paint in Italy, something that would have won any girl over just from the expense and planning, but won you over because he chose you as his model, because you can still remember how his lips parted as he mixed the right colors for your hair.

I’m sorry, please pick up my call, the video closes with the words written in his handwriting, and said with his voice, and you can feel the tears streaming down your face as you wordlessly cry.

And then your phone rings.

[starfinss]

Thanks for answering my ask!😊 i do have request/suggestion involving Cyno haha, what about a 🍋 scenario where Cyno, Al Haitham and a character of your choice get accidentally hard from having their S/O innocently sit on their lap? They try to hide it but they fail.. 🙈 if that would be alright with you!

This has been in my inbox for literal months, I am SO sorry.

I’ve been planning a trip abroad, plus I’ve had no ideas for this prompt until like an hour ago when I was playing Genshin and thinking of story ideas. Anyway, sure, I’ll write that. The character of my choice will be Lyney, because I’m working on his build right now and I’ve been sort of drafting a fic for him while I’m writing the Jing Yuan fic.

As always, let me know if any of you want full fics from this.

—𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴.

— 𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮

— Unless you’re at home together, I doubt Alhaitham would let you sit on his lap for this very reason.

— Alhaitham is a man who lives my the rules of logic, and while I won’t say he hasn’t fucked you on his desk at work, he’d call those ‘momentary lapses in judgement.’

— Not that he didn’t enjoy them, though.

— He’s the type who likes to do things where the chances of being caught are low. He likes to draw things out, doing everything he can to make you feel good. And so, he prefers to engage in activity like this in the comfort of your bedroom.

— So, in instances like this, if you were to convince him to let you sit in his lap while you waited for him to finish up his work after everyone was home for the night, he might give in, just a little bit.

— Really, you just wanted to be close to him, maybe close your eyes for a while. He loves closeness as much as the next person, being near to the one you love is always nice.

— The risk of being seen in such a compromising position is low, which is a plus, and he gets to feel your warmth against his body as he finishes what he has to do for the day.

— But then you shift forward, nuzzling closer, and your body rubs against his just right, and oh Archons, he doesn’t have time for this.

— The way your body settles so perfectly over him makes his mind scatter to anything and everything besides work. The friction as you rearrange yourself against him is enough to make him feel like he’s going crazy.

— He hides it well, though. Alhaitham is good at keeping a blank face.

— As casually as he can, he shifts you back so you’re away from his growing erection, because he has to finish this paperwork before he leaves, and you’re so maddeningly distracting.

— But that doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him quizzically, and when you’re met with a blank stare, you shift back to where you were most comfortable, just to see his reaction.

— He sets his jaw, breath catching as he stiffens, unable to hide the way his body reacts to yours as you realize why he moved you away.

“Did I make you hard?” You whisper, a little surprised, “I didn’t even do anything.”

A quiet scoff as he looks at you fully, his self-restraint beginning to fray. Damn you for always having this effect on him.

“It’s kind of hard not to with you practically grinding against me.”

A sly smile overtakes your face, the innocent desire to hold him replaced with something much more lascivious.

“Would you like some help with that, Mister Acting Grand Sage?”

— Lips collide, and you end up bent over the desk as he holds you in place by your hips, the office filled with the sound of skin on skin and his low, pleasured groans as he fucks you, deep and hard, just the way he knows you like it.

— Needless to say, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done that night.

— 𝘊𝘺𝘯𝘰

— Like Alhaitham, I don’t think Cyno would really allow such a thing unless the two of you were alone in your own home.

— He doesn’t like breaking rules or doing things that could be seen as unbecoming, especially not in public.

— It’s because of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t engage in that sort of thing in public that I also doubt he’d try and hide it.

— In his eyes, things tend to be rather black and white, and he separates your sex life together from everyday life. He associates you sitting in his lap with other more improper thoughts that he shouldn’t be distracted by when he’s working or out of the house.

— It doesn’t change just how much he loves you, and even in daily life he expresses that in other ways.

— This is getting long winded and stupid but I want this to be interesting and not just “he’s reading a book and you’re in his lap,” which I could very easily do.

— I sure am a writer. Also this idea is stupid, but it’s also fun. I will probably write a full fic for it.

— But, anyway, the point I was making is, if you were to accidentally end up in his lap, then because of that association between you being that close and sexual activity, he might end up getting hard rather easily.

— While tracking a fugitive scholar together, the two of you end up being forced to fight when a group of Eremites come through, and the ensuing scuffle catches the attention of a herd of Sumpter Beasts.

— You and Cyno are confined into a small hiding space, and because of the limited amount of room, you’re forced to straddle him.

— You, of course, are wriggling around, trying to get comfortable in the awkward position, and it’s when you finally settle down onto his lap and he catches you by the waist to keep you from fully resting against him that you realize what has happened.

— He’s not meeting your eyes, simply looking out through the gaps in the rocks to watch the herd of beasts go by, but you can see his jaw tighten when you shift forward and out of his grip. When you move your hips down, a hand shoots out to still you with a grip that is nearly bruising.

“Stay still.”

— You’re a little surprised, he’s usually able to keep that sort of thing under control fairly well, but in retrospect, you can’t really blame him with all the moving around you were doing.

“Sorry,” you croak, suddenly mortified, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, “my body simply responded to the stimulation. It is always a possibility in such close quarters. Just stay still, please.”

— The rocks are digging into your knees, and despite his warning, you still try and shift for some relief, as slowly as you can, but he’s getting harder, and you can feel his hands scrambling for a grip on your hips and waist, and when he looks at you, the glint in his eyes is equal parts pleading and haggard.

— Slowly, teasingly, you roll your hips, and his head falls back against the wall of rocks behind it, eyes fluttering closed as you grind against him, the way he’s holding you so flush against him making the friction ever better.

“We shouldn’t,” he says, though his own protest sounds unconvincing as his voice drops several octaves lower, rough with lust, and especially so when his hips rise to press you even closer.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” You ask, wanting so badly to kiss him, and instead of answering you, he catches the back of your head, crushing your mouth against his.

— The buttons of your shirt are undone, his mouth is on your breasts as you fumble for the front of his shorts, struggling to get your own off, and he simply moves your panties aside after you’ve wrestled out of your clothing before yanking you down, stuffing you full of his thick cock.

— Your cries of pleasure are lost among the hoof beats of the Sumpter Beasts on the path above, and you share heated breath as you ride him, his hand on your waist to guide you along the length of his cock.

— His head dips down to watch where he disappears inside of you, and you feel his grip tighten on your body, feel him twitch inside of you, making you whimper.

— He’s sure to make you cum first, his thumb on your clit, muttering sweet filth into your skin as you come undone above him.

— You end up in that ravine longer than you excepted, if you couldn’t tell.

— 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺

— Unlike the two others, I don’t think Lyney would be as private.

— A conversation with my good friend Paprika made me realize that Lyney is probably the type of guy who goes for what he wants, and if he was interested in someone, he’d likely just show that interest without beating around the bush.

— So I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited his s/o to sit on his lap, just casually, no matter where they were.

— It’s not even sexual, really, he just likes being close to the ones he loves, and you’re no exception. He loves holding you.

— He’s very romantic, too, I’d say. He knows just what to say to get you all weak in the knees. He loves you so much. The poor guy doesn’t have many people in his life who have shown him the love that you have, and he absolutely cherishes you.

— He’d even buy out all the seats in one of the upper boxes of the Opera Epiclese, just to have you all to himself, able to hold you close and tell you just how much he adores you in the dark of the grand auditorium.

— But he’s only human, and if you were to move just right while sitting in his lap, he’s going to have a reaction.

A soft chuckle tickled your ear in the silence, and you felt Lyney’s hands on your waist, gently holding you in place.

“Stay still, please, darling.”

— He wouldn’t really try and hide it, it’s kind of hard to when you’re right there.

— He’d bite back a gasp as you shift again, almost teasing him, shooting you a warning look.

“Can I help with that?”

A soft laugh, slightly strained. “And how would you do that?”

You pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Can I show you?”

He kisses your forehead. “As long as it’s quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons, would we?”

— You slip down from his lap and to the floor, where you kneel, between his knees. He’s seated in the farthest chair in the box, well hidden from sight if anyone were to look his way. You wouldn’t even be visible from that vantage point.

— He realizes what you’re doing and shifts his legs farther apart to accommodate you, and when you palm him through his slacks, you get the pleasure of watching the way his jaw tightens, breath drawn in sharply through his nose.

— You make short work of his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips to let you tug his underwear down just enough to free his dick.

— He curses quietly when you wrap your hand around him, and when you begin to slowly stroke, his head tips back against the chair.

— When your mouth presses against his tip, you feel one gloved palm against the back of your head, urging you forward, lacing into your hair when you take him into your mouth.

— You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth as you begin to bob your head, slow and steady, almost teasing, and you can hear him gasp softly above you, see him clamp one hand over his mouth as you watch him through your lashes.

— His grip tightens on your hair, groans muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together, letting yourself moan around him, low and soft, and that’s enough to make his hips buck against your mouth. You know you’ll pay for that when you got home.

— You speed up, and his hand fists into your hair, desperate for any kind of purchase at all, and you hardly mind, especially when it leads to him shifting forward in his seat, forcing you to take more of him, gently guiding you back, only to fill your mouth once more.

— You loosen your throat and let him take control, using your mouth as he pleases, simply content with watching the way his face twists in pleasure, teeth digging into his knuckles as he tries desperately to stay quiet, and you can tell he’s close from the way he’s leaking into your mouth, his thighs shaking, grip growing borderline painful.

— He cums hard, gushing down your throat, and it’s a wonder he stays quiet during his climax, the effort of it all clearly taking a toll on him as you watch involuntary frustrated tears bead at the corner of his eyes and catch in his pale lashes.

— You pull off as he softens, licking your lips and making a show of swallowing, something he watches with heavy-lidded, hungry eyes.

— Cheekily, you settle back into the seat with him after he tucks himself away again, careful to avoid bumping against him.

— Yeah, you didn’t end up getting much sleep after you got home that night.

The fact that this took as long as it did haunts me and I am so sorry.

ALSO I GET TO SEE PAPRIKA IN PERSON THIS FALL YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I’m so excited, and I will probably cry.

[prettymita]

"jealousy"

KIM GUN-WOO - 6/10 on the jealousy scale

♡ gun-woo trusts you sooo much

♡ he knows you'd never cheat on him, so whenever you're talking to another guy, he wouldn't think much of it. he would keep an eye on you, though.

♡ it only really affects him if you start flirting with another guy. he thinks you're wayyy too good for him, even if that's not true. (no, bcuz this man only has eyes for you. he thinks you're the most beautiful girl in the universe) so when you start spending more time with another man and prioritizing them over him, he would get so sad :(

♡ poor baby wouldn't even tell you. he would try to act fine and tell himself that he was just being stupid and overthinking, he'd probably blame himself for it 😭

♡ when you start to notice how he seemed down, he would finally open up and admit that he was jealous. he's so cute i can't

♡ even if gunwoo isn't very extroverted or talkative, he's actually good at communicating his feelings with you. when he's jealous of a guy you're talking to, he would shyly pull you aside and have a conversation with you about how he felt about you hanging out with another man. "hey, can we talk?"

♡ and when you reassure him that he has nothing to worry about and shower him in kisses, he's a timid, smiling mess.

♡ he's so babygirl omlll

♡ when it comes to possessiveness, it's leaning towards less possessive. sure, if a guy is making you laugh and all, gun-woo will join the conversation, linger his hand on your back or waist innocently and pretend nothing is wrong. but he isn't too over the top, there is a healthy amount of possessiveness.

♡ he doesn't care what you wear, you are your own person, and he knows and respects that. so if you catch the gazes of men, it doesn't make him jealous. i mean, you were so beautiful, how could they not stare, right? besides, he could fight if he needed to. (he will subtly glare at a guy if their gaze gets too explorative, though. not even glare, to be honest. its more of a disappointed look LMAO)

♡ if a guy is making you uncomfortable, that's a different case.

♡ he would notice and act immediately. gunwoo doesn't like to resort to violence, even if he is mad. he would gently pull you away from the person and step in front of you, politely (but sternly) telling the guy that you weren't interested. he wouldn't pick a fight, unless the opponent swings first. even so, he'd stick to defending only, not throwing any life-threatening punches. cause damn, he is strong asf. you're kind of glad he is so non-violent and gentle bcuz if he wasn't, he might've killed someone already.

HONG WOO-JIN - 8/10 on the jealousy scale

♡ woojin does trust you, but the twisted knot in his stomach can overtake his sense of rationality sometimes

♡ he is very clingy. so if he sees you talking with another guy, he will try to join the conversation because he doesn't want to feel left out.

♡ if he's jealous, he'll often wrap an arm around your waist or sling it over your shoulder, or making it very obvious that the two of you are dating. "Oh, how's my precious girlfriend doing?" and then pecks you on the lips. its a little embarrassing sometimes but its woo-jin so its okay

♡ its funny because sometimes he completely ignores the guy's existence and continues to talk to you until you glare at him for being rude

♡ if you ignore woo-jin and continue to focus on the other guy, he will do anything to get your attention. and i mean anything. he will start telling the most unfunny jokes, physically get on the table and do something goofy to make you laugh. this man cannot be stopped.

♡ also, he will not admit that he is jealous. even if you know he is, he wouldn't say it unless you really pry at him. "Okay, fine! I'm jealous, is that what you wanted to hear?"

♡ and then he'll sulk around like a sullen puppy lmaoo

♡ so when it comes to you wearing revealing clothing, i'm sure he loves it the most, to be honest. but he's a little cautious of you wearing it outside, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. he might've tried to get you to wear something else or bring a jacket a couple times. he isn't really fond of others seeing what's his. (!!!)

♡ he's possessive, but he doesn't like to admit it. he'd rather show it through actions, being superrr clingy

♡ if a guy's staring at you and his gaze begins to wander, woo-jin will wrap a hand around you possessively. he might even snarl at the guy.

♡ if anyone makes you uncomfortable, he makes sure to get you out of there, probably threatening the guy a little. he might shove him lightly and get a little aggressive if he's really mad. then afterward, he would make sure you're okay and shit-talk about how the guy was an absolute ass.

[eluxcastar]

What are the Harbingers like while drunk?

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: a night of drinking usually leads to a far more chaotic band of harbingers than usual, a horrible nightmare for everyone else involved considering their behaviour. it is not all terrible however, admittedly.

୨୧﹑genre :: some are a little fluffy it varies though

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, it is chaotic, columbina does touch reader like very publicly how far that goes is ambiguous, obviously consumption of alcohol

୨୧﹑words :: 1.9k

by this I actually mean how many drinks does it take for them to be all over you (optionally their s/o) which will find its answer, this includes every Harbinger because there is no grandpa discrimination in this household 🙏 requests will start getting posted again tomorrow

The youngest Harbinger is alright, but arguably one of the worst when it comes to how drunk he'll get and how quick. If being a massive casual flirt with you already doesn't help (which it does not), then getting a couple drinks in him can only make him worse. As if stealing all of his restraint and boundaries— possibly mistakable for sense of reason— it unlocks a secondary urge that somehow overtakes his need to fight everything that does or does not move. He can take you (not in a fight tho). A few drinks in, and you better take them away from him before he becomes too over-eager and starts on his quest to fight the other Harbingers once more. Usually, it's quite easy to get him to settle if you just tie him to the nearest pole and leave him for a while to get through his fight with a rope first.

Arlecchino is surprisingly good in this respect, though more so because it's hard to tell when she's drunk except for the fact that she speaks differently, more open with her feelings than when she's sober, and unabashedly will speak her mind in the same tone she usually speaks her insults unless it is to you. For some reason, her equally shameless words and advances always comes out something not like a question and a borderline nag to go with her somewhere—to her room, no doubt—down to outright admitting that she wants you. She barely leaves any room for your decline or contemplation when she's following you around all night like a lost, stray dog whimpering at your feet, and it's kind of cute. You won't go with her, though, because you know what she wants, so she'll just have to wait until you get to enjoy yourself a little at the very least. She's still so ridiculously cute asking with a straight face, however, especially once you manage to settle her to the point she falls asleep head on the table out like a light.

Unfortunately too used to drinking over business, Pantalone is tipsy at best as he's no stranger to drinking some ornate expensive wine after a long day of work, though the flush in his cheeks tells you he's at least a little gone. He rests his head on your shoulder without a word most of the time, perhaps purposefully gluing you to your place by his side so that you cannot be stolen away. He says he's not tired whenever you ask, and you don't doubt that somehow. He's got an added boisterous charm to his laugh, but his voice is low, and he stares at you through his lashes as he's coaxing you into drinking with him. Drink some more, loosen up, there's nothing to worry about. Of course, there's always something to worry about with him, never able to just let you be when he's drunk as he's a bit of a pest.

Insisting that you drink two glasses for her single finished one, Signora is far more focused on getting you drunk than herself. She holds drinks to your lips, practically forcing you to down them to get her to get off your back, all with an arm over your shoulders, keeping you from backing away. She's shockingly promiscuous in a way—though not explicitly—this night will just most definitely end with the two of you having drunkenly made out at least twice, and she's got a good amount of glasses of wine under her belt, as well as you stumbling and at your limit needing her help to find your bearings. Her chest is soft, of course you can use her as your pillow all you want, and of course she'll get you home safe.

An interesting case is the mysterious disappearance of Sandrone's stoic exterior, her usual abrasiveness replaced by a giggly and borderline childish self far more interested in finding something funny in everything and bothering you to carry her around, including back to her room— or yours. She's not picky. Only two drinks in, she behaves like she has never heard of subtlety in her life. Often she will question why you keep doing the things you do, especially if that happens to ruin all her fun, like pulling her away from Tartaglia so that she will stop teasing the poor boy, or to get her to stop loudly asking all of the details of the ins and outs of Scaramouche's workings when he's shifting in his seat trying to hide his discomfort behind his own abrasiveness. Eventually, you may have to carry her back to her room, if only to get her to go to bed and try to get all the rest she can before she wakes up the next morning hungover and miserable.

Scaramouche may only be a puppet, but his other functions seem to work just fine…it still surprises you that he manages to get drunk, much less that he starts getting overly emotional when he does and ends up crying over nothing until you manage to cheer him up as he buries his head in your chest. Apparently, he's just very happy to see you, despite you having been there all night, and he doesn't want you to go anywhere despite the fact you never had any intention of doing so yet. It's so strange but not unwelcome, just hard to get used to, though you let him loiter around you and cling a little. Every time you have to go somewhere, he's asking where you're going, and only when you provide a good enough answer does he stare a little before nodding slowly and resting his head on his arms for comfort, waiting for you to come back.

Over time you learned to stop getting Pulcinella drunk as it leads to him telling the same stories of his youth he's convinced beyond a doubt that you've never heard before. His earlier days in the Fatui are practically ingrained in your mind as you have little choice but to grin and bear it, hoping he doesn't notice that you're not really listening. Of course he notices, however, and in his usual exaggerated movements, taps your nose to draw your attention back, threatening to steal it if you don't pay attention. Youngsters these days is his usual grumble, and as always, you must remind him you are not, in fact, a 'youngster'. It is quieter, more intimate storytelling between the two of you, maybe only Pierro at your side interested in hearing all of this though you're pretty sure Pulcinella hasn't even noticed he's there considering he's so fixated on you and where your eyes are, anywhere but him and he's promptly drawing your attention right back.

Capitano holds his liquor so well you're a little worried for his liver, as the worst offence he manages is making a couple of bad jokes. Barely does he seem affected by it, but you wonder if managing to conceal his face well enough has anything to do with it or if he simply hasn't had anything to drink at all in the absence of any desire to take his helmet off just yet. Considering his demeanour has changed slightly, you're willing to bet the former. He is awfully touchy and forward in all of his advances, though his boldness would never overstep too far. He can hear a no and accept it, but by the time that helmet is resting on the table by his side and he's buried his face in his hands, far too drunk to reason with himself to keep it on, he does begin to get far closer than before with every word said just a half inch from your ear in a hushed tone and his arm around you so comfortably you may begin to forget it's even there.

Ever your biggest fan, Columbina wants you to do all sorts of things, not for any discernible reason. She just claims you're quite adorable. She absolutely must see the face you make after a kiss, and when someone touches your face, when you have your hair pulled and how flushed your face is when her hands travel down from your face toward your body. Of course, she will largely refrain from going too far in the presence of others, though she is touchy, almost like dangling off you, and most importantly, she is hopelessly convincing. Regardless of whether you told yourself at the start of the night that you would not hear a word of her requests, it began so slowly and spiralled so quickly that giving her just a little more leeway won't be too bad, right? It'll be fine to allow her to lay he head down on your chest and wrap her arms around you, continuing to speak to others all the while capturing all of your attention, and with how sleepy she sounds, you imagine you have hers as well with what little energy she has to spare still contributing to the conversation.

Dottore is usually such a butch that you initially thought getting him drunk would only make him bitchier, but one drink in and his experience with alcohol is showing. By the second, he claims to not want any more, and god forbid someone tries to convince him a third is a good idea because he will proceed to complain of feeling sick and deflate until he can leave. His second, however…his second has him talking shop, just not the way you thought it might. He's telling you about all these things that—while certainly not completely objectively interesting—have him genuinely smiling even just a little as he passionately explains the many things he has pursued solely based on whims and fixations. For a man who seldom speaks to anyone, drinks get him talking, and with no inclination to stop him, you sit and listen as he tells you about the ways his segments are made and how he went about discovering and acquiring the materials to do so. He wants you to come with him to his lab so he can show you these things, but with very little desire to allow him to accidentally ruin something of his while drunk, you quickly dissuade him from that and decide to take him elsewhere to let him cool off instead.

Conservative in his drinking in the first place, Pierro does not allow himself much freedom to relax in a setting where he has to watch everyone, at least at the start of the night when tensions are still high, and everyone is sensible enough to remember their quarrels with each other. as the night progresses, however, the small sips of his drink become more frequent, and his appearance follows suit, hair a bit dishevelled from the number of times he's touched it, clothing loosened to allow himself more room to breathe and hands often finding their way to you as he speaks, resting on your shoulder or on your thighs, fingers brushing against your cheek or thumb tracing your lips. to be honest you kind of like him like this, less reserved but restrained enough to be fighting his own resolve not to do something that may be too forward. You can tell in the way that resolve and the will to fight against his own wants slips away bit by bit, touches lasting longer, kisses first on your forehead finding their way to your lips and his arm, which had been resting on the table, finally around your waist as you both walk back to whichever of your respective rooms finds you first.

[pix3lplays]

(blade gepard dan heng welt jingyuan sampo)??

Consider it done!

Cw: implied violence

-Honkai Star rail men and jealousy-

Blade: Blade wouldn’t realize that what he’s feeling is Jealousy. He’s a very quiet, very possessive type of jealous, standing close to you, shooting threatening looks at the offender, that sort of thing. He doesn’t Deny being jealous when you accuse him, but he doesn’t admit it either. He claims he’s just protecting you, looking out for you.

It takes a Lot to get him jealous enough to the point of behaving the way he does, but when he gets there he is scary. You doubt he’d actually hurt anybody, though he is a Dangerous and Unpredictable Stellaron hunter, so it’s hard to say…it’s not…impossible…to imagine him hurting someone that got a little too comfortable with you.

Gepard Landau: is loud when he’s jealous. He tries to find some sort of an excuse to pull you away from the situation, saying something came up that needs both your attention or something like that.

He’s kinda shy about PDA so he wouldn’t do anything more than grumpily holding your hand and glaring at the offender, letting them know you’re taken.

Truthfully he gets really insecure when he sees someone else flirting with you. He genuinely begins to feel…inadequate which translates into him being loud and trying to get you out of there.

He doesn’t get jealous fast.

Dan Heng: Dan Heng tends to do his best to keep his jealousy to himself. But sometimes he just can’t help it, and he lets his jealousy overtake him. The worst he’ll do is join you in your conversation and introduce himself as your boyfriend. It’s surprising to see Dan Heng get…jealous and possessive. He rarely ever gets that way, and afterwards he apologizes, even if you think it’s unnecessary for him to do so.

He’s a touch insecure in his relationship with you, hence the jealousy. But he knows you love him, and he loves you, so he tries to hold back his jealousy. Even if he doesn’t express it all the time, he’s pretty quick to jealousy because of his insecurities.

Welt Yang: isn’t quick to jealousy. He’s a mature man. He knows you’re not just going to leave him for some random person who decided to hit on you.

Doesn’t mean he Doesn’t get jealous though. He just tends to keep it to himself. Unless the situation got really bad. Then he’ll step in, calmly introduce himself as your boyfriend, and then find some excuse for you to step away from the situation.

He’s really sweet. He’s mostly concerned about you, asking if you’re okay, but deep down he was JEALOUS. Jealous when that person wouldn’t stop looking at you. Jealous of the way they reached out and touched your shoulder. Jealous of how you smiled at them. Yeah. He gets jealous. It’s just very rarely.

Jing Yuan: isn’t quick to jealousy at all. He trusts you, you trust him…you only have eyes for each other, after all. So when he does get jealous, he tends to use his position as THE General of the Luofu to get someone to back off.

He’s not afraid of PDA if you’re okay with it too. He’ll hold and kiss you in public to let others know you’re taken. (Because he has a flare for the dramatic, too).

He gives all his attention to you when he gets jealous. He wants to make you smile, make you laugh, remind himself you love him and no one else. And it doesn’t take much for him to be satisfied. He knows you love him. And he knows you’re not leaving him.

Sampo Koski: gets whiney when he gets jealous. He just wants to leave the situation when he starts feeling jealous. He’ll cling to your hand and complain and say it’s time to leave. At first. Until the jealousy Really sets in.

Then he’ll get passive aggressive and snarky at the offender. He introduces himself as your boyfriend in the smuggest way possible, and then informs them that regretfully, he needs you for a business deal, and eventually he’ll successfully drag you away from the situation. He complains the whole time about them, and the audacity they had to flirt with you, and you need to remind him that you love him and him alone, that there’s no reason to get jealous.

Sampo isn’t all that quick to jealousy, but it is frustrating when he does get jealous.

Bonus!Luocha(because I’m obsessed with him): Luocha trusts you. He knows your fine, and that you love and are loyal to him, so he tends to not worry when other people start hitting on you.

Until you’re visibly uncomfortable, then he’ll step in.

He smiles sweetly at the offender, places his hand on the small of your back, and introduces himself as your boyfriend.

Luocha can be really really intimidating when he actually wants to be, especially with that enormous coffin he brings around with him…Yeah they definitely leave you alone after that, and Luocha has a proud look on his face as you thank him for chasing off that creep.

[kiraman]

And so death comes calling for her, a supplicant throwing itself at her feet; then again, Mizu has known death too well now to fear it; has filled her hands with it, adored it, fiendishly, with such devotion and horror—no, she is not afraid of it. She isn't happy unless it’s lying across her path; so when the dark, violent fever overtakes her, swallowing her up in its flaming grip during the tenth month of her trip over the high seas, it is not fear that comes with it; no. It's something else; something furious, with teeth. She drags herself onto the docks and gropes for the gunwale, slips down onto her knees. When someone comes to help her back onto her feet, she is a caged animal, cruel, vicious , scratching to get out. She shrugs them off, shoves the cup of water forced upon her mouth away, hissing in japanese; get off me! she does not want their hands on her, does not need their help; her cold blood cannot be worked into a fever – her veins are full of ice-water, they are dark, death does not know how to live in them, the fever turns to tidal waves, she is ocean depth; she will be okay.

She does not know how, but when next she awakes she's on her back, swathed in layers of heavy woolens that have been unwashed for months or years, reeking like everyone, itching like everyone, like a hot stone on her chest, burning and she violently tears them off, tosses them aside, and tries to sit up, her blood pounding in her ears. She topples over and falls onto the floor, feels her chin crack against the floorboards; distant voices cut viciously through the damp darkness that envelopes her; she does not understand what they are saying; she blinks through the veil of heat that enshrouds her and weakly drags herself towards the window, parched for air, her throat is throbbing wildly, her skin feels like a coal, melting right off her bones, gods help her, she is is melting, her body bursts into flame, this must have been how it felt...back at Edo...all those people swallowed by her rage, gods, gods help her.

She blinks at her hands and gasps when blood spills down her wrists onto the floorboards, pooling all around her, swelling, like the tide; and she is trying to swim through it, back to her cot, but it keeps spilling and pouring, it floods the cabin, drips into her mouth and throat; red, like a flame, like murder, like her, in her crimson dress, like her mouth screaming her name as she was dragged away on that horse and Mizu gasps and gasps, she is feral now, she is furious, screaming as she gropes for the bed, her hands slipping; her eyes are the sharp glint of a sword held to Akemi's throat, glittering in the light of the sea lantern.

She lays on her back and lets the flood sweep her under into its furious flame. She dreams of her at night. When she opens her eyes (dark, feverish eyes, eyes with teeth, like two angry waves in a storm) she sees her there, robed in silk, her dark, ebony curls sprawling all over Mizu's fevered face as she leans over her, urges a cup of water to her lips; she sees her, with some kind of hallucinatory clarity, and, all night long, she calls out for her, she is not sorry, she will not say sorry; she cannot; she is something else, something feral, with claws; she clings to her wrist when she tries to pull away, Akemi, Akemi, she whispers her name like an apology like a prayer for something they cannot have, will not havs, but she pulls away and she is left alone, drowning in fire.

She sinks in and out of fever sleep for so long— how long has it been now, is she dead? Alive? She loses count; but every time she opens her eyes, she is there, golden and radiant, wrapped in a veil of shimmering heat, and Mizu feels her hand reach out towards her but she can't touch her, she is air, she's fire and incense, an altar, she turns into smoke, consumes Mizu all to an ember; she touches her sleeve, all that silk, like flames, burning through her fingers and does not ask her to stay, she will not beg, she does not know how, does not even want her to look at her; but when the cup is brought back to her open mouth, she closes her eyes and feels her mouth on hers too; she is fire and flame but her lips are cold like the ocean, she has a taste of tempest on her tongue and a kimono red as blood, as the death on Mizu's hands, it spills like silk through her hands, she fades away and she does not scream but something inside of her is howling, don't go, don't go, come back. Akemi is shadow and light, something secret she keeps so deep inside of her she can never reach it, she will never touch her, she will never hold her, her hands are stone, they are a blade, it will cut her open, her touch. She shivers when Akemi pulls away and her throat is raw, she is parched and desperate, and everything inside of her is numb and dead, she does not know how to love, she is the edge of a knife and darkness, the scream of a woman held underwater, drowning, she will not touch her.

She sees her face, in the gold of summer, burning with fierce loveliness as she passes by her in a cage, like a memory, like a sliver of sunlight, threads of golden beads in her dark hair; her carnelian eyes meet hers, but only for a second, and she sinks into Mizu like a flaming arrow, sudden, deep, inescapable; she is the taste of the night, she is fever and fever and flame; and then she is gone.

When the fever abates, the mean, bitter coldness returns where her flame has burnt itself into her veins, scalded her to the bone, and Mizu furiously tears her out of her mouth her mind her hands; gods she has never hold her, and she wonders how can someone miss something that she has never had so much? She buries that thought, too. The sea before her is fire-water and silver froth, a roric flame; outside, the winds howl, savage, squalling with the storm, dark, secret.

She does not listen to it. Her eyes grow dark and unseeing, all she sees is her rage; ruthless and cold, beseeching at her feet.

She does not think of her, but sometimes, in her sleep, she thinks she can hear her voice screaming her name as they drag her away.

Somewhere in Japan, Akemi lays down near her husband, and all of her fire is snuffed out; when she closes her eyes, all she sees are his eyes, blue as iron and cold as sea-washed silt, furious waves in a storm crashing themselves against the shore of her body. She wakes up gasping, thirsty for the ocean; it makes her sick, wanting the sea. It makes her sick, how everything around her becomes drenched, her neck beaded with sweet sweat, the air, stifling, throbbing as she thinks of him, the salt of his skin, how it had felt, holding onto him as he shielded her with his body from the Claws; somewhere between sleep and awareness, she thinks of the dark cold shelter of it and how he had smelled, all salt water and bitter, like the ocean as she had stood behind him in the brothel.

She does not speak of it to anyone, lest of all to herself; she is frantic and flaming, a wildfire roaring: she shuts it away desrparately, but it comes back to her anyway. Akemi wonders where he has gone. She does not know if she wants the answer. He lives in her head now, and even drinking a cup of water makes her sick.

Somehow she survives it.

[kkami-writes]

Devil's Advocate  – Chapter One. cw. written in third person, other chapters will be second person unless otherwise specified wc. 1.1k (1,118)

October 31, 2020 “Honestly, I think this is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Hyunjin mumbles out, mostly to himself but his other members are quick to shush him and he goes back to curling himself into a ball. He wonders briefly why he was even here in the first place. 

Him, along with Jisung and Jeongin, were currently sitting in Felix’s room, surrounded by a shit ton of candles that added to the ambience but didn’t provide much light to the dark room. Hyunjin vaguely wondered where Felix had gotten his hands on this many candles, but it was the least of his worries. The two youngest were preoccupied with a ouija board that was laid on top of what he assumed was supposed to be a pentagram; their hands settled on the planchette, moving it across the board in nonsensical circles. 

It was, of course, Felix’s idea to try ‘communicating with the spirits’, seeing as it was halloween of all days and he had insisted that you were supposed to do stupid stuff like this on the spooky holiday. Everyone else had blatantly refused though, leaving just the four of them huddled on the floor. Jisung sat off to the side, a bit further than the others as he clutched a container of salt to his chest. 

‘For protection, duh,’ was his simple response when they had asked him what he brought the seasoning for. No more questions had been asked after that. 

Outside a storm raged on, rain beating loudly against the windows of the dorm, adding to the creepy atmosphere they had set for themselves. Lightning could be heard in the distance, rumbling softly. 

Hyunjin on the other hand, was just about done with his members' shenanigans. He was more than ready to call it a night and crawl into his nice warm bed that was practically calling his name. It was just about to strike midnight and nothing even remotely interesting had happened in the last ten minutes. How much longer were they gonna keep trying? 

Felix and Jeongin on the other hand were still visibly excited, the former starting to chant something in what Hyunjin supposed was to be latin, though being incredibly butchered by the deep voiced aussie. At this, he’s officially done. Hyunjin could only handle so much from them.

“You guys are crazy, I’m out,” He says with a sigh, moving to stand up and leave. 

It’s at this moment though that lightning strikes nearby, resulting in a loud echoing boom that feels like it shakes the entire dorm. All of them scream loudly, definitely waking up their neighbors (who have already filed plenty of noise complaints against the group). Jisung practically flings the salt out of his hands, effectively sprinkling it all over the carpet as he moves to cling onto Jeongin. 

The candles suddenly blow out and they’re screaming again - this time Felix launching himself into Hyunjin’s chest, the latter eagerly wrapping his arms around the lithe boy for any source of comfort. An almost eerie silence overtakes them as they sit in the darkness for a few minutes, no one daring to utter a single sound. 

“Can we be done now? I think my heart is about to give up,” It’s Jisung that breaks the silence, a slight whine to his voice as it cracks from the fear that’s stuck in his throat.

“Aw, don’t you wanna have some more fun?” A new voice pipes up, this one distinctly female and that was definitely not here before. The boys are screaming for a third time, all of them scrambling up in an attempt to get away from this intruder that sounded far too close to them. The disembodied voice laughs at their fright, the sound is light and sultry, almost borderline seductive. 

“Jeez you guys are loud. Calm down. Here, let me get the lights,” At this, all the candles flicker back to life, the boys watching with wide eyes. All four of them had ended up huddled together, pressed into the corner of the room and clinging to each other rather desperately. 

Hyunjin blinks in disbelief at the sight before him. In the middle of the room, laid on top of the makeshift pentagram and ouija board is a woman. The position she’s in is seductive, one leg fully extended and the other propped up at an angle with  a hand on her hip while the other holds her head up. Clad in black lingerie, there’s a corset wrapped around her waist that nicely accentuates her curves with a garter belt that holds up sheer thigh highs. To top everything off, her black stiletto shoes are definitely at least 3 or 4 inches and could probably kill a man. 

Hyunjin finds it rather hard to swallow down the lump in his now very dry throat. 

The thing that stands out the most are the bright red horns on top of her head, they’re slightly curved inwards and they match the eerie color of her eyes that are currently glowing and piercing through the four boys. To top everything off, she’s also got a tail, it’s pointed at the end and currently in the air, swirling around as if it was a snake hunting for its prey. 

Silence follows for a few minutes, none of the boys really know what to say, their minds coming up blank in the impossible situation before them. The girl is simply studying them closely, not bothering to move from her comfortable spot on the floor. They don’t get the chance to say anything before the door to Felix’s room is being slammed open, the other members piling in. 

“Hey, we heard you screaming? Is everything ok?” Chan asks the four boys in the corner, not even noticing the biggest problem in the middle of the room as he goes into leader mode. The other three have definitely noticed the new person in the room, who had definitely not been there before. 

“Hyung,” Minho’s nudging into Chan’s side, his eyes glued onto the half-naked girl whom his leader hasn’t even seen. 

“Oh my god what,” Chan starts as he turns towards Minho, whose gaze is somewhere else and he lets himself follow the other’s line of sight. He can’t see too well in the barely lit room so he quickly flips the light switch on.

He falters at the figure he can now clearly see, she’s still laid out on the floor, seemingly content just watching the events fold before her. But once she notices that Chan’s eyes have landed on her, she’s sending him a cheeky grin and a small wave - her sharp canines not going unnoticed by the eight. 

“Well hello there,”

[taduki]

M6 w/ an MC Who Babies Their Familiars

Asra

Faust is soaking up all of the attention. She is with you all the time and prefers it that way.

She is so situational in her interactions with you. You would be getting ready to boil some noodles and Faust would just appear in the empty pot you laid out. This is her pot now. You must find another one.

Asra was genuinely concerned the first time they saw it happen. Why are you making Faust noodle soup.

Lovesss getting tickled and traveling with you. Pokes her head out to peek at everything. Also, Faust flower crown.

She has a little nest made of yours and Asra’s gift trinkets. Okay, maybe not all of them were gifts… Perhaps they were stolen, but who’s checking?

If you like to, she luvvvs sharing bubble baths with you!! With the wide variety of bath products Asra brings every trip, you never run out of options and adventures.

Julian

Big ol’ crow nose all up in your business.

Always around you when Julian is writing something down because he’s joked about plucking one of his feathers to use as a quill, and now he doesn’t trust him enough to be around him while he works.

Will sit on your shoulder or head and peck at your earrings (or anything shiny, honestly).

Julian is a little jealous.

You make up for it by holding conversations with Malak in front of him. He gets so mesmerized, like are you actually able to understand him?? Asks you to tell him he’s a gander egg* and Malak immediately assaults him in a flurry of squawks and feathers.

He allows you to feed him out of your hand like a majestic fairy. Yeowch. Crow nose sharp.

Portia

How can you not love that kitty face.

She loves sniffing you up and down, head to toe. Sniff her back and she’ll whack you.

Totally a lap cat. Also a head cat. Sits gracefully on either you or Portia’s face at night.

By far the biggest suck up out of the familiars. Snack? Treats? Food time? She rolls all over the floor and yeowls until you give in. For the sake of Portia’s sanity, this may be preferable. Keep the kitty at bay and she won’t annoy her as much.

Portia is both relieved and a teeny tiny bit jealous that you’re the favorite now… She finds it cute when she walks in on Pepi purring on you like a big baby. Little kitty kissies are all over your cheeks and yes, Portia insists on overtaking them with her own kissies.

Nadia

Chandra is NOT baby.

Unless there are treats involved, in which case she is SOOO baby.

She is not a very cuddly, lovey dovey dove. She expresses her love through acts of service like bringing things for or checking up on you.

It’s no secret Nadia loves to treat you and her bird with rich delights. So, if you assist Chandra in luxurious baths or patrols, she will linger around you more often. Nadia is pleased to see her trailing behind you around the palace.

She fixes your hair from time to time. She sees it as a give and take relationship.

As such, she’s begun to imitate your mannerisms. You tilt your head when you’re confused? She tilts hers. You flutter your eyelashes? She flutters hers back.

Nadia is squealing deep down, watching you two mimicking each other.

Muriel

Inanna is a little finicky in the way that she takes care of you like a mother, but will accept any and all belly rubs.

She’s perfectly capable of feeding and caring for herself! With that being said, she likes receiving scratches behind the ears in the bath.

Please note that she does not care for strong, unnaturally scented care products… Last time, you picked up a rosemary scented shampoo, thinking it would be natural smelling enough. Alas, she took one whiff of it and ran behind Muriel’s legs…

Give her the green light to lay down on top of you and, congratulations! It is now your daily nap time!

She’s very careful not to trip you, but loves nudging her head against your legs. You can never tell whether she's asking you for head pats or asking you to move out of the way.

Every time you come back from the market, she's got her nose all up in the bag because she knows you got SOMETHING for her.

Lucio

Now THIS is what they’re talking about!

Give them petting. Give them treats. Give them kisses. Brush them. Hug them.

Is it possible to give too much attention to dogs? You’re not sure what the limit is, but they make it very clear you are nowhere near it…

Lucio starts to get a teeny tiny bit jealous when they start barreling towards you and not him when you guys come home. His initial response is to show great disdain towards them until they feel sorry, but he eventually resorts to sweeping you off your feet so the dogs jump all over the both of you.

Don’t worry. They will cushion the fall.

They like to play peekaboo!! Their big cold ‘n slobbery snouts and puppy eyes are all up in your face. Enjoy!

One sleeps close to your back. The other sleeps close to your stomach. They r pillows. :)

* A gander is a male goose. Saying ganda egg basically means rotten egg.

[maochira]

omg bbq with the german bois + dad sounds so fun and chaotic i wanna go so bad now ;-;;;

follow up with the dad!noa loving taking his kid cycling: noa takes bastard muenchen to cycling trip

i can imagine kaiser complaining about the heat and bugs or how bumpy it gets 😭😭 (ness following kaiser’s bike quietly from behind and never overtakes him 😭)

Omg I love this idea 😭😭😭

Requests open! - masterlist

Tags: gn!Noa's kid!reader, reader is around elementary school age

-Kaiser keeps complaining over and over about how bumpy the street is but as soon as anyone else tries to complain either about him or anything else, Ness makes them shut up (unless it's you)

-every time Gesner speaks everyone's watching him with a "don't you dare say something wrong now"-look in their eyes because they're just dreading the moment when he accidentally teaches you a new curse word (Noa very much isn't a fan of that)

-you have to stay next to Noa the entire time so he can make sure everything's okay and just in case you fall over or anything like that, he can be the first to react

-basically everyone on the team adores you, except for Kaiser. He's kind of conflicted regarding his feelings about you, but because you're Noa's kid he doesn't say anything negative about you

-every time you take little breaks, the team shares their food with you! You're not even eating the stuff four father packed, you're only eating what the others give to you

-everyone is having the time of their life asking you stuff about elementary school. What kind of stuff are you learning? What kind of games do you and your friends playing during breaks? What children songs do you learn in music class?

-at some point you start singing some songs they remember from their childhood together. Ness has to convince Kaiser a little to join, tho

-you just decide all of them (including Kaiser) are your brothers now. No one gets to refuse that. They're your brothers now, no matter if they want or not (and Kaiser certainly doesn't want that)

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