#little shit with zero control ask

[gauloiseblue]

OMG

HOLY SHIT

First of all, reincarnation stories are so *mwuah*

Second, I love the interactive/visual novel/otome game style.

The Endings are so delicious and just makes me want to bite and eat it 😏😏😏.

I love the fact that in true otome game/VN style, the endings all give us little bits and pieces of stuff that fit with each other giving us a nice picture that is still kind of incomplete.

Ending 1 is the meet cute with our hubby (who is definitely not going to kidnap us at the slightest inconvenience like how Megumi summons Mahoraga).

Ending 2 is the one where we get stuff about our childhood and how there's this thing that yadda yadda yadda... we had a friend... NINA, MY BABY IS ALIVE!!! Our former childhood friend wants to marry us awwwww... Someone held us hostage while biting us... Awww... What a nice conversation with one of the women who took care of us Oh look some guy in the shadows (I'm sure that's nothing). This one is actually the first I got.

Ending 3, the “Horror/Bad” Ending, is actually not that bad because technically, all endings are bad because he will always find us. We just get a big question called “What the fuck is going on?”. It's just bad/horror because we're scared :( Also biting kink~

Ending 4 is where we find a super sweet note about love and perseverance. This couple is so sweet and romantic. The woman knows that they haven't been together for so long but she already knows that she's going to be with this guy for the rest of her life aww so sweet. She also talks about how love should be built on patience and to never rush it. She also talks about how this will be her last secret awwwww... Super sweet with no horrifying implications whatsoever.

These endings work well on their own but as you read the other endings you get the answers for the questions you have from the other endings but also questions that not even reading all the endings can answer.

Does that man there's a Golden/True Ending or A Bonus Scene?

Also

NINAAAAAAAAA!!!

MY BABY

YOU MAY HAVE EXISTED FOR A BRIEF IN IOFAB BUT EEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Also this fic reminds of one of your art that has König buying reader. Biting kink, my beloved. Something something he would sooner mangle your flesh before letting you go...

[Major spoilers under the cut]

I actually almost made that fic into a game, but I realized it's not worth the effort so I didn't make it XD

Actually, this is how I think of the endings;

Ending 1: Good Ending with a question mark

Ending 2: Bad Ending

Ending 3: Cautionary Ending

Ending 4: Secret Ending

I feel like if you get the first ending, there's a chance you'll live happily ever after with him, especially when you really love him and accept him as he is.

As for the second one, congrats on getting it for the first time XD This is actually my favorite ending, bc it can lead to a continuation.

For the 3rd ending, it's just an attempt to write horror. I always want to bring horror elements to König's fics, because his character does have that potential. Also, it's just an excuse for me to write about my kink so—

I feel like I had to talk about the 4th ending, because it lacks some basic explanations. We all can pretty much guess who's the husband, so I'll skip that part. She and König weren't always this miserable, and the letter was the evidence that they once were a happy couple. But somewhere along the line (the reincarnation), she strayed away from him, for whatever reason. Just as he disagreed with her, he did the opposite of what she'd do if he loved her less than a lover; forcing her to be one.

It's actually a story about irony, because the only way to bind your lover with you is to make them hate you. The reincarnated reader hated to be bitten, so he marked her with his teeth. She didn't like when he's impatient, so he took it to the extreme. But all his actions were rooted from love. He did it because he loved her, he did it because he wanted to be her—in this life or the next. Like, you can find so many ironies in the letters. But I won't point them out bc it's more fun to discover them yourself 😌

Fun fact, the thing about her last secret or whatever implies that König shamelessly read her diaries XD She couldn't keep her secret because he'd just find it and read it. It's also ironic that he always found her secrets—even in the most difficult places—but couldn't find her last secret, which is the letter. That's why the papers were hidden for years inside the music box, until the reincarnated reader discovered it again. Makes you wonder what could've happened if he read the letter. Maybe all these tragedies wouldn't happen.

I'll be honest, I like Nina a lot too. In my head she ran away with the reader in IOFAB, and they lived happily ever after. Like, she deserves so much happiness 😭

Oh, that artwork. Haha… it's just a study on anatomy I swear 💀

[sewerslimetime]

You make WW Ganondorf's face even more kissable

He's an extremely kissable dude! I feel very flattered that you think I do him justice.

[sanarsi]

Euphoria

professor!Joel Miller x student!f!Reader

Summary: One wrong call led to this, that instead of your boyfriend, it's your professor who picks you up from the party. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of drugs and alcohol, use of drugs (by reader), being under the influence of drugs, protective!Joel, angst, professor-student relationship, age gap (not specified), kinda perv!Joel(??? idk you'll judge), blowjob, pussy eating, cheating (kinda), protected PIV (he had a vasectomy), creampie, dom!Joel, no-outbreak AU, Sarah’s alive and happy, dubcon kinda? Wordcount: 8,1k An: Hiii, I would like to ask you to read the warnings before reading. If you are comfortable with the topic of drugs, angst and sex under the influence, I invite you to read and I hope you enjoy it. Meal is a meal and professor Miller is professor Miller so… this is just a good shit. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3 Music I worked with: Make You Mine - Madison Beer

Masterlist

The music was getting louder in your ears. Pushing through the sweaty, dancing people was becoming more and more of a challenge. Everything was starting to spin. You needed some fresh air.

The pills you took didn't work as they should have. Maybe you drank too much before, maybe you had a bad day, or maybe the guy had some shitty stuff.

Your lungs started to collapse more and more as you tried to take another breath. You panicked. You started pushing through the crowd faster and more aggressively. They didn't give a shit about you as much as you didn't give a shit about them.

Here, everyone lived their own life. Everyone had fun. You wanted too.

Until now.

A silent scream tried to escape you as you began to gulp air. You couldn't breathe any other way. You were getting weaker and weaker. Everything was getting hazy. The music was getting less and less distinct. Everything was like behind thick glass.

And right in the middle, in a little glass box, was you. Locked away with no access to oxygen and no cry for help.

You were alone.

Just when you thought the crowd would swallow you, you saw the door. A light at the end of the tunnel.

Something inside you, some instinct, forced your legs to move towards the exit. Your body acted as if it was programmed, like you weren't the one controlling it. Some greater force was moving you like a puppet.

The same force made the mysterious man appeared in front of you. You stopped, frowning and trying to focus your vision to identify his identity. But his face was blurry. Just like the touch of his arms, which wrapped around you to stop your body from falling.

"You've had enough for now," he said, slightly amused, and began to pull you towards the exit. You knew him. His voice was like a breath of fresh air and his arms gave you a false sense of security. You liked that voice. You liked the feeling that allowed you to take a moment to rest amidst the chaos around you and inside you.

"Call Joel," you mumbled indistinctly.

You reached your hand into the back pocket of your jeans and tried to pull out your phone a few times, but your strength disappeared. You couldn't even bring yourself to clench your fingers around this damn thing.

You were helpless and barely conscious, which made tears appear in your eyes.

Why did something like this have to happen when you finally wanted to break free and needed it more than anything else?

Why couldn't you have fun like the rest of them for once?

Why was it always you who got screwed?

"What's your password?" The pleasant male voice spoke again.

You frowned, closing your eyes as you tried to force yourself to think, or worse – say it out loud. The wind blow across your heated skin, making you shiver. You were freezing cold despite it being the middle of summer.

You felt bad and it was getting worse with every passing minute.

"Four zeros," you managed to choke out and looked around shakily. You were standing at the top of the stairs leading to the house.

When had you two left? You didn't register that moment.

The arm around your waist dug harder into your flesh as your knees buckled beneath you. You gasped, trying to keep your weight on the unstable sticks which were your, not so useful right now, legs.

The slightest gust of wind, or even a slight tilt of your head, made you swung like a blade of grass in the wind.

The feeling of falling sent panic through the corners of your brain, but your eyelids continued to droop heavily, blocking your vision. You braced yourself for the pain that was about to dull the rest of your senses, but all you felt was something hard under and behind you. After a moment, a cold sensation appeared around your head, which brought you no small amount of relief.

You purred with pleasure, snuggling closer to the metal railings by the stairs. Your friend looked down at you with concern before he went back to searching for the right contact in your phone.

And that's when the first problem appeared.

You had two phone numbers saved the same way.

Joel.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath and selected the first contact.

Seconds passed, another ring sounded by his ear until automatic voicemail went off.

In that case, it had to be the second number, he thought. Since the first one was inactive, the second one had to be the good one, right?

Bull's eye.

After the third ring, a sleepy 'hello' sounded in the speaker.

"Hi, sorry to wake you up, but your girlfriend isn't in the best shape," he started immediately, glancing at your semi-conscious figure, cowering on the stairs. “’think she took some crappy stuff and is goin’ down the drain. She told me to call you. Can you come pick her up?”

There was silence on the other end.

A long silence.

A drawn-out silence.

He had to check phone to make sure the call was still going.

“Hello?”

“Give me the address.”

A quick exchange of the most necessary information ended the conversation. That was enough for Joel to appear in the district where the address was located in less than twenty minutes.

You were sitting cuddled in the arm of your friend, who was soothingly stroking your back. He didn't know if you had fallen asleep or if you were just that calm. He only hoped that you weren't struggling too much in your head after taking some shit. You weren't able to help him find out what and who you took it from.

His attention was drawn to the car that stopped in front of the house.

"Joel came to pick you up," he whispered with a smile and noticed that you woke up a bit at his words. You blinked a few times, raising your gaze.

"’s not that Joel," you mumbled.

He frowned, surprised by your reaction, and looked towards the man who just got out of the car and headed towards you.

At first, he couldn't recognize his face, but the closer he got, the clearer it became.

Indeed, he didn't look like your boyfriend. He was... too old to be in a relationship with you. He looked more like your father.

Maybe he was your uncle and he just got you into trouble? Damn it.

"You're not her boyfriend," he stated as Joel stopped by the stairs. His gaze was fixed on you and this sight definitely didn't satisfy him but he tried to didn't show it.

"Do I look like him?" he muttered unpleasantly and looked disapprovingly at the young boy who was holding you in his arms.

His silence was quite telling.

"What did she take?" he asked glancing at your barely conscious form.

"I don't–"

"Wonderful." The rough answer, silenced him effectively. "Did she have some stuff with her?" The next question only stressed the young boy out more.

"Are you her father or somethin’?" he asked, a bit skeptical of the older man.

"I'm her teacher," he replied, pressing his lips together tightly at the sight of you.

No one expected such an answer.

A quiet voice in your friend head blamed him for confusing the contacts and calling a strange guy instead of your boyfriend. What confused him more, was reason, why you had your teacher's number in your phone. And what was even more interesting, was why he picked up at such a late hour and decided to come pick you up.

"I–" he began, not very convinced by the fact that he had to hand you over to a strange guy who was your 'teacher'.

"I'll take her home," he cut him off firmly before he could express his distrust.

Without waiting for the boy to answer, Joel approached you and took your jaw in his hand. You frowned at the sudden movement, because your head was spinning in a bad way. Your gaze was absent as he tried to assess your condition.

Fact, you were in bad shape. He didn't even know if you were able to recognize him, which made the situation a bit more difficult.

"Sweetheart, tell me what you took," he said in a soft but firm tone.

You snorted sweetly, because his voice had a strangely soothing effect on your insides. You couldn't recognize his blurry face, but his touch was familiar. Warm, thick fingers that sent warm shivers through your body. You wanted to melt in his hand, and that's exactly what you did.

The entire weight of your head flew towards him, which made him tighten his grip, digging his fingers into your cheeks.

"Sweetheart..." he repeated softly to get your attention.

You opened your eyes with a blissful smile and tried with all your might to remember who those dark chocolate eyes belonged to. But it was his glasses that made a light bulb go off in your head.

“Just one blue pill, Professor,” you replied, causing relief from Joel and surprise from your friend.

"What are the blue ones for?" he asked, returning to his cold tone as he looked at the young boy.

"I– I don't know," he stuttered, frightened by sudden change in man’s behavior towards him.

"Then find out," he growled, nodding toward the house. Not a second had passed when the boy hurriedly disappeared behind the door.

Joel looked at you again with concern. You didn't look as bad as you had a moment ago. In fact, you looked like you were having a great time. Maybe you had a slightly wandering look, but the smile on your face and the sparkles in your eyes gave a misleading impression.

He knelt down in front of you with a quiet groan and looked at you from every side. There were no signs that anything bad had happened to you.

One stone from the heart. You were safe and sound. A little high, but healthy.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked and with his other hand he fixed the hair that was falling over your face. You watched his movements as if enchanted.

Everything had more vivid colors. His eyes were darker, deeper; you could drown in them. Every move he made seemed to play out in slow motion, giving you all the time you wanted to admire him.

"Joel Miller," you replied, smiling wider. "I didn't know you liked parties," you added before he could say anything. You threw him off balance with that.

He frowned, looking at you closely and he had to admit that he himself had once been young and had done a lot of... illegal things; that's why he decided to go in the direction you had imposed.

"I don't, but sometimes it happens and I end in places like this. I'm a little too old for such fun, you know?" he smiled gently, seeing that you were feeling better and better or the opposite – the drugs were starting to work.

"Just like me. But I'm young." You laughed charmingly, to which he laughed too and nodded. Your burst of energy was starting to worry him a little, but he'd rather that than you having a bad trip.

"So... since we're both not into parties, how about I take you home?"

He was treading thin ice to see if you'd cooperate with him. Unfortunately, your smile suddenly disappeared and he cursed in his mind.

"I can't, my parents think I'm at a friend's," you explained, rubbing your arm nervously.

Okay, that wasn't the answer that would put him in a bind.

"Then I'll take you to your friend's," he suggested but all he got in response was a negative shake of the head.

"She left."

That was already causing a bigger problem.

Joel tried to think quickly. All the possibilities flew through his head, choosing a few that he could test.

"Your friend said something about your boyfriend," he remembered, feeling that this was the way out of the whole situation. Your boyfriend, who was supposed to come here instead of him. At least that's what he concluded from the call he received.

"That asshole stood me up. He was supposed to come here with me, but he went with his friends to who knows where," you snapped, feeling furious at the jerk who dared to call himself your partner. Maybe you would regret this relationship if it wasn't for the fact that you were together for sex. Actually, apart from that, you didn't even like each other that much.

Despite that, he was good in bed, he took care of you at parties and other outings, and his name was Joel.

Exactly.

You were with him because you could shamelessly scream his name while you fucked, while really thinking about someone else. But that was your sweet secret. Sweet secret that held your jaw, staring at you through the lenses of his glasses.

"You don’t have anyone I could take you to?" he asked, increasingly helpless.

You smiled sweetly and shook your head in denial. "Nope."

A quiet sigh left his lips as he tried to think of a way out of this situation.

The worry in his eyes didn't match your current mood. You didn't like the fact that he was sad around you. You wanted to have fun, be happy, forget about all your problems for a moment.

"That's why I have to stay at the party until the morning," you said with a wide smile, at which he frowned.

"No," he ordered seriously, surprising you a bit. You rarely witnessed Joel addressing anyone like that. Especially you – his favorite. "I won't let you stay here when you're under the influence of some shitty pills."

"But–"

"No," he cut you off immediately. "I don't want to hear a word of protest. I'm your teacher even outside of working hours. I have to take care of your safety." His tone clearly indicated that he didn't want to hear your reasons for staying.

How could you argue with a man whose every word was sacred to you? Even if you wanted to, you couldn't because your friend came out of the house, catching your attention or at least Joel's attention, because yours was still focused only on him.

A smile bloomed on your face again as you could look at him with impunity.

Oh, he was handsome.

Deadly handsome for a man his age. Your father was younger than him and he looked much worse.

How was it even possible that you started to be attracted to a man older than your own father? You didn't know that, but you weren't going to delve into it because you liked the feeling he aroused in you.

"She took ecstasy." You heard from somewhere behind you before Joel looked straight into your eyes again as if he was looking for something. You didn't know for what, because he couldn't be looking for you; you were right in front of him.

"Come on, sweetheart," he sighed with a warm smile and slowly stood up. "I'll take you home, okay?" he suggested, holding out his hand to you.

You looked up at him with doe eyes and nodded silently. You didn't want him to be mad at you.

You didn't want to let him down so you politely gave him your hand and let him pull you up. It took a moment for your legs to get used to doing their duties again before you could fully stand on your own but despite that, Joel still wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to his side.

He didn’t want to risk you falling and cracking your head. Fate liked to play games with people and he had learned that the hard way many times. Way too many times.

Without any additional pleasantries, he led you to his car and sat you in the passenger seat. Your head was getting heavier as you tried to watch his movements; the way he fastened your seatbelt, the way he made sure you weren't sick, the way he ran his gaze down your body to make sure everything was okay.

But all he had to do was close the door and your eyelids closed by themselves. The car was quiet, nice and warm. You felt safe and the delicate scent of perfume he used only relaxed your muscles more.

Joel got into the car and before he drove away, he glanced at how you were trying not to let your eyelids fall. He sighed quietly, shaking his head in resignation and slowly drove out onto the street. Silence fell between you due to the fact that you had lost the fight with tiredness and simply fell asleep.

And at the same time he was struggling with his thoughts of what he should do. What was appropriate for him to do. He should have taken you home. Even if you were going to have a row after crossing the threshold. It was none of his business what happened to you after he got you to safety.

But another thought lurked in his mind. An idea that shouldn't have been there. Had no right to be there. Yet this thought overshadowed what was right.

Because Joel had long since admitted to himself that you were more important to him than the rest of the students. He had stopped denying how much he enjoyed sitting with you in his office in the evenings, helping you study. After many months of struggling with himself, he realized how much he appreciated your company, your attention, your smile, all of you.

That's why the thought of taking you home and witnessing the fight immediately slipped of off his mind.

He didn't want to cause you any trouble at home. The fact that he found you in such a state only proved that you had enough to worry about. Why would he give you more? He didn't like it when your pretty little head was filled with problems he couldn't help you with. But with what was happening now, he could help you.

That’s why after twenty minutes he stopped in front of his house.

You continued to sleep soundly, not worrying about anything anymore and he didn't have the heart to wake you up. You looked too innocent for him to interrupt your peaceful state of unconsciousness. The smudged mascara and a bit of glitter on your eyelids only added to your charm.

Joel really wanted to hate himself for the way his heart beat at the sight of you, but he couldn't. He couldn't hate the feeling you evoked in him. Because this feeling was good. Warmth spread across his chest and more wrinkles formed around his eyes from the wide smiles you caused in him.

You were like a ray of sunshine. Why would he hate the sunbeam that fell on him?

He knew he shouldn't feel this way. You were his student, the best he'd ever had the chance to teach. But he couldn't fight it. Not when you were pushing yourself into his arms. When you gave him your full attention. When your hand touched his every chance you got. He just couldn't.

That's why it didn't bother him at all to carry you home. Actually, he did it with all too much desire. He couldn't resist the feeling of holding you in his arms as your head rested peacefully on his shoulder.

The door closed behind him with a soft click as he slowly walked down the hallway. Darkness reigned everywhere after he was suddenly yanked out of bed. Now there wasn't much left of his desire to sleep.

He carefully opened the door to the guest room and tightened his arms a little as he walked with you over the threshold. As if to spite you, your phone began to vibrate, which made you grumble anxiously. He quickly laid you on the bed and reached into the back pocket of your pants. The bright screen forced him to squint as he tried to see who was calling you at this hour.

Joel.

He frowned, glancing at you and then back at the phone. Before he could think about his decision, he clicked the red receiver, rejecting the call and muted your phone, placing it on the cabinet next to it. Just in case, he did it in such a way that another incoming call wouldn't be visible.

Your quiet groan caught his attention so he didn't wait for you to wake up any longer and carefully started to take off your shoes; right after that, socks. He couldn't let you sleep uncomfortably after, what was probably a pretty lively, party. He felt that he had to take care of not only your safety but also your comfort, so that you could wake up in the morning without any consequences after tonight. And only because of that reason, his gaze wandered to your legs covered in jeans.

He cursed himself in his mind because of the ideas that started to come to his mind.

He couldn't.

He should leave you like this and go back to his bedroom.

He should have done it.

And yet, he leaned closer to you and gently stroked your cheek. "Sweetheart," he said quietly, wanting to wake you up.

Although there was at least that much common sense left in him.

He smiled fondly when he saw that you opened your eyelids a little with a grunt. "Lift your hips," he ordered and all he got in response was to do as he asked. No questions or comments.

Feeling the growing tightness in his chest, he unbuttoned your button and zipper. Deep down he knew how fucking wrong it was. But he couldn't fight it as his fingers began to slide the material of your jeans down your hips.

Another grievous sin was added to his mental list as his gaze fell on your underwear. The lump in his throat began to grow with every second his eyes were fixed on your black panties.

So damn plain black cotton panties.

Then why was this the sexiest sight in his whole life?

"Fuck," he cursed in a whisper and pulled your pants all the way down. Then your hips fell back onto the mattress with a quiet sigh.

He felt like a pervert, seeing you like this when you were on the edge of reality and dream so he forced himself to leave the room while he still could.

How long before he gave in?

It took a trip to the bathroom and his room.

Then he reappeared by the bed where you were lying half naked; with his old t-shirt in one hand and micellar fluid in the other. Having a daughter had many advantages, so he knew that falling asleep with makeup on was not something pleasant.

That's why for the next ten minutes he gently wiped your face with soaked cotton pads. He sat by your side, carefully wiped off the smallest traces of makeup and had to admit, that it was also refreshing even for him. A moment of silence helped him calm his thoughts, and the sight of your innocent face only confirmed that he had to take care of you. That was all that mattered now.

Until the moment you purred and delicate smile spread across your lips.

That was enough for a burning heat to appear in his chest again.

"This feels nice," you whispered in a slightly hoarse voice.

Joel was just finishing cleaning your cheek when your eyes began to stare at him. This time you didn't have a wandering gaze. You seemed... normal.

He quickly believed it because he wanted to believe it. He wanted you to be sober at the moment when you were closer than ever before. When you were in his house. Lying in his bed. On his sheets.

"How do you feel?" he asked, placing the cotton pad on the cabinet next to him, not taking his eyes off your shiny ones.

"Good." Your smile didn't disappear for a moment as you watched him carefully. You definitely weren't complaining about seeing him, but you wondered about other thing. "Where are we?" After that question, you looked around the dark room a bit. You didn't remember ever being in this place. It was too pretty here compared to the places you usually stayed.

"In my house," he replied, a bit afraid of your reaction.

Maybe he really should have taken you to your house despite the problems that were to come?

Maybe he went too far by bringing you to his place without your consent.

It's true that at university you were close, but it was always at the university. Never outside of it.

"It's nice here."

Your comment dispelled all his doubts. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath when a sigh of relief finally left his lungs.

"Do you need anything?" he asked, wanting to get back on solid ground.

Your presence of mind would allow him to pull himself together. All you had to do was say you were tired. That you wanted to go to sleep. That you wanted for him to leave you alone.

Anything that would indicate that he should go and leave you alone.

"Can I have a glass of water, please?" you asked, looking at him as if the request was too much to ask for.

You had already violated his hospitality. He had picked you up from a party in the middle of the night and brought you to his house. You were slowly starting to feel like an idiot.

"Of course," he nodded and left the room, leaving you alone.

You rubbed your face with your hand and slowly sat up. A penetrating feeling of shame crept into your head as you began to look at your thighs.

Did you undress yourself or did he undress you? You probably didn't want to know the answer to that question.

You felt like you'd already made a fool of yourself. You couldn't even tell if the drugs were still affecting you. You felt light, good, but your mind was starting to work differently. You didn't know what to focus on what to think. There were so many things happening that you should have been in control of right now and yet you sat there helplessly, staring at your flesh.

You came to the conclusion that you probably didn't have the strength to feel ashamed of what was happening now. You were too tired. Your mind wouldn't cooperate with you, so the best option was to face everything in the morning.

Despite your momentary sobriety, you still couldn't fight the feeling that was growing in your belly. Like a big warm ball was warming up your insides and giving you pleasure. That was the only reason you had a constant blissful smile on your face. It felt good. Focusing on that feeling was much more enjoyable than trying to think.

Joel returned a few minutes later with a glass of water, finding you dressed in his shirt and sitting on the edge of the bed with your head down. He swallowed hard, fighting the feeling the sight of you had stirred in him. He didn't want to admit what it was doing to him.

“Here,” he said, catching your attention. You looked up at him, your eyes so big and shiny that he had to clench his jaw to control his emotions. It wasn’t until a moment later that your gaze dropped to the glass in front of your face and, with a silent 'thank you', you took it.

In silence, he sat down next to you and watched as you took small sips. The cold water brought you some relief and tasted much better than usual. Only when you had drunk half a glass, you put it on the cabinet next to you and wiped your lips with the back of your hand. The silence echoed in your ears, making you focus more on the growing feeling of pleasure in your body.

You had to do something to not fall into this.

"I'm sorry," you said, starting to gently bite your lip. Despite the whole situation, you wanted to smile. "This wasn't supposed to be like this."

"And what was it supposed to be like?" His question made you look at him. Warmth radiated from him. He didn't seem angry. He didn't seem like he blamed you for your irresponsibility. It was a strangely pleasant change from what you usually experienced with your father.

You laughed quietly and looked down. “I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging. You didn’t even know how to answer that question. Because what exactly did you expect? “I wanted to escape reality for a bit.”

“Aren’t there other ways to do it?”

“There probably are, but that was the only one I know of.”

You might be ashamed of it, but it was the truth. There was nothing in your life that would allow you to forget, even for a moment, all the shit that was going on around you.

You didn't want to think about it at a time when you felt light as a feather. You clenched your fists tighter into the mattress to hold back your smile because all you wanted to do was gasp while laughing at how good you felt.

Joel didn't seem to notice. He felt like you were struggling with negative emotions and he wanted so badly to help you get rid of the thoughts that were occupying your mind. You looked like you were at least physically in pain as your entire body tensed up as if searching for the slightest point of contact. Without thinking too much, his hand covered yours. You let out a shaky breath as his large fingers tightened around yours. It was a comforting gesture on his part, but to you it was like pouring gasoline on a fire. His touch was all you could focus on. The hot, large hand that was touching your small, cold one.

You began to tremble. Everything inside you began to crave more of that feeling, even though his hand alone was enough to make a moan die in your throat.

"I want to help you."

His offer hung between you like heavy clouds. His words had no second meaning, and yet you took it that way.

He wanted to help you. But how?

How could he make your mind stop running with tormenting thoughts?

You searched for the answer to this question in his eyes and even though this was an ordinary question, something else was lurking inside him. Something that you caught. Or at least that's what you thought.

However, thinking at a time like this wasn't working out very well for you. That's why you didn't know how your lips found their way to his. You couldn't remember when you got so close, pressing a strong kiss to his mouth.

You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen and waiting for his answer but Joel was in too much shock to do anything. Even breathing seemed like a superhuman ability now. That's why after the seconds dragged on, you pulled away with a sense of shame. Seeing the shock on his face, you really felt like an idiot but you couldn't control yourself. You didn't even know how on earth you decided to do something like that. How on earth did you decide to cross the sacred border.

"Professor, I'm sorry-" you tried to explain yourself but then his hand found its way into your hair, pulling you firmly only for him to initiate the kiss this time.

You moaned not expecting such a turn of events. His stubble pleasantly irritated your skin, sending waves of stars all over your body. A smile spread across your lips as his proximity began to stimulate you. Soft lips perfectly matched yours. Every kiss he gave you was like you had done it a thousand times before. His tongue was delicate and sweet, making you purr with pleasure. Every second of his closeness gave you more strength.

He and drugs were the most addictive combination you had ever had the opportunity to try. Apart from the fact that all your desires, that you had for this man for a very long time, were coming true.

Neither of you even thought about how fucked up it all was. You both wanted this too much to care about anything but each other's touch.

Even Joel started to feel like he was high. Your soft lips and quiet sighs gave him shivers of desire. He couldn't remember the last time his cock hardened as quickly as the moment your hand started to travel up his thigh.

He couldn't hold back a groan when your fingers gently tightened around the bulge in his sweatpants. The mere fact that he was so turned on by you, sent waves of arousal through every corner of your body. Heavenly feeling overshadowed all your senses.

“Please,” you whispered desperately into his mouth.

You felt his hand tighten around yours, making him moan, and you took that as an answer. You hooked your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, silently asking him to take them off. And that’s exactly what he did, without thinking too much, he lifted his hips and slid everything in your way off of them. Your kisses became sloppier and deeper as your hand found its way to his cock again.

Cold fingers wrapped around his hot, throbbing friend. The skin-to-skin contact elicited a throaty groan from him.

He was thick. You could barely contain him as you slowly began to pump him, up and down, letting more precum wet his tip. You gently ran your thumb over his head to spread everything. His cock trembled in your hand, trying to escape the too intense feeling.

His fingers tightened on your hair and his lips stopped coordinating with yours. You smiled widely and synchronized your kisses with the movements of your hand. With your tongue, you collected all the moans that came out of him. Joel felt like he was in a trap that he didn't want to get out of. Your gentle kisses and touch were driving him to the limits of his self-control.

And any remaining control disappeared the moment you fell to your knees before him.

You settled comfortably between his thighs, licking your lips. Joel sighed at the sight and propped himself up on his hands, leaning back a bit to get a better view of the way a string of saliva flew out of your mouth. His cock didn't even have time to twitch at this feeling because his tip disappeared into your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he inhaled loudly.

You didn't give him a chance to get used to your warm tongue before you swallowed him halfway. He winced at the sudden surge of pleasure and looked at you with his mouth parted. You began to work your head, taking him deeper with each pass.

You were determined to swallow him whole, despite what you were capable of. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do it, that you could do more for him than for others.

“That's right, baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Hearing the praise from his lips, you felt like you were capable of anything. And that's exactly what you did, swallowing him whole.

A loud moan bounced off the walls as your throat tightened around his tip. He thrust his hips, trying to go deeper, and you let him. You pressed your nose into his flesh, holding him completely in your mouth. Joel watched everything with delight. Every twitch of his cock causing your walls to tighten around him.

He tried to breathe calmly but he couldn't focus on anything except how wonderful it felt to feel your mouth on his dick. He preferred not to admit how many times he had seen this sight before his eyes when he masturbated. Now, when he was experiencing it firsthand, he felt like he was in heaven. His imagination couldn't even match up to how skillfully you drove him crazy.

You started to choke so you immediately pulled away from his crotch. A string of saliva was the only thing that connected you two as you raised a tearful gaze at him. Joel was breathing heavily as he stared at you with adoration. And even though he wanted to feel your lips around him again, he couldn't stop himself from feeling them on him again.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hard kiss and covered your cheeks with his hands, forcing you to stand up. You didn't resist his movements, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. His cock throbbed, hitting your lower abdomen, causing another wave of arousal to start leaking out of you.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, deepening the kiss and allowing yourself a moment to play with his tongue. Joel was more than willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him. He gripped your ass tightly, earning a moan from you.

The hot ball inside you turned into a real fire between your thighs. The feeling was starting to overwhelm you, forcing quiet squeals out of you as you rubbed against his hard cock over and over again.

You needed to get rid of this feeling.

You needed to relieve yourself of the pain of arousal.

“Please, I want you inside me.”

Your silent plea didn't have to wait long for his answer. In one movement, he turned you over, letting you fall onto the soft mattress. You gasped when he suddenly pulled away from you and practically ripped your panties off. All the wetness smeared across the inside of your thighs but Joel was too busy to notice. He squeeze your panties in his hand, feeling the black material was completely soaked and shamelessly inhaled your scent.

Your pheromones awakened things in him he didn't know existed. Like in a frenzy, he hid your underwear in the pocket of his sweatpants and blindly threw his glasses on the table. He didn't really care that they probably broke when you writhed in anticipation on the bed in front of him.

"I've been waiting ages to find out what you taste like," he said, more to himself than to you, and grabbed you tightly by the hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. Your breath caught in your lungs as his hands began to roam your body in a possessive way and right under your shirt.

But when his face disappeared between your legs, you couldn't take the tension anymore and you threw your head back with a moan. Just the feeling of his breath and the knowledge of how close he was to your pussy was driving you crazy. He didn't have to do anything at all to make you writhe under him.

Every muscle in your body tensed as you felt him start to lick everything that smeared on your thigh. You began to pant heavily, feeling as he got closer to his goal with every second. Until finally, he planted the wettest, deepest kiss on your slit. You moaned loudly, arching your back at the overwhelming feeling. His tongue ran along the length of your pussy and with a growl of satisfaction, he sucked on your clit.

Instinctively, you clenched your fists tightly on the sheets and tried to move your hips out of his reach, but his hands on your waist effectively stopped your movements.

The sting of his beard perfectly matched his agile tongue. You were shocked at how quickly a familiar feeling began to gather in your lower abdomen. You couldn't remember the last time someone had brought you to such a state.

You didn't know what was causing it. The drugs that were still circulating in your blood, your desire for him or his amazing abilities. It was also possible that all of them at once made your legs tremble.

You wanted to scream, squeal, tell him to stop, tell him to continue. You couldn't decide but he made the decision for you, pulling away and depriving you of your orgasm. You opened your eyes, searching for him with your gaze and you wanted to beg him to come back to his place.

Seeing your gaze, a smirk appeared on his face. Having you in such a state made him feel like a god. He had already forgotten what it felt like to have such power over someone, to experience someone looking at you with such desire as you did for him when he took away your opportunity to come.

"You'll come with my cock inside you," he decided.

You blinked a few times and closed your mouth in shock. It was the first time you had witnessed such a change in his behavior and you had to admit that you liked him even more this way. You loved his gentle nature that surrounded you every day but his possessive version aroused a wild desire in you.

You wanted to dig your nails into his flesh until it bled and beg him to come inside you so hard and deep that you would see stars. But instead of saying that, you nodded, barely able to say a quiet 'okay'.

Your answer satisfied him.

Your submission satisfied him.

Holding his cock stiffly, he positioned himself between your legs. You felt him right at your entrance and you shuddered, clenching around nothing. Joel looked with satisfaction at the mess that you were. Disheveled hair, shiny eyes, his shirt that now revealed more than it covered.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered affectionately at the sight of you.

Your breath caught in your throat when you locked eyes with him. But your eyes rolled back in an instant when his hands gripped your hips tightly and in one movement he pulled you to him, impaling you all the way on his cock. The cry that came out of you was the most animalistic sound he had ever heard. He shuddered with a moan feeling your tight pussy pulsating around him. He couldn't even experience this feeling in his dreams.

"I knew you'd be perfect," he gasped and slowly pulled out of you only to thrust hard back.

Another scream tore through your throat like fire but it didn't stop him from slowly setting the perfect pace for himself. The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed through the room.

"Soaked, warm and tight."

He thrust harder and harder and you couldn't shake the feeling of him going so damn deep inside you. The arousal overshadowed the pain he was causing you. You weren't used to his cock. It was thicker and longer than the one you usually had inside you.

"Made especially for me," he growled, digging his fingers deeper into your hips.

You wrapped your hands around his wrists and dug your nails into them, silently begging for him to be more gentle.

You never expected someone like Joel to be so domineering in bed. In your fantasies, it was always you who was finishing him off, not him finishing you off.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” he panted, searching for your gaze until he finally found it, completely cock drunk. You winced as he thrust hard into you once again, not giving you a chance to catch your breath. He saw how bravely you were struggling with what he had given you, how you were trying to get used to his size. He felt you still clench around him tightly and if you could, you would rip his cock off. "To who?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.

For a guy his age, he held himself surprisingly well despite how fast he moved his hips, impaling you over and over again with his entire length.

"Toyoutoyoutoyou," you hissed in one breath and began to pant heavily, feeling the increasing tension in the muscles between your legs.

Joel smiled, pleased with the state he had brought you to, and pushed harder into you. That was the first time you saw stars and your lungs forgot how to breathe.

"You're right, to me," he nodded, leaning towards you. His hand slid under your shirt and after a moment it squeezed pleasantly painfully on your breast. You whimpered from the new stimulant that echoed off your clit. "And you know what I don't like?" he asked, teasing your nipple with his thumb, while slowing down the movements of his hips, entering you more passionately. "Sharing," he answered before his question even reached your consciousness.

Longer and longer moans accompanied every movement of his hips. His cock smoothly began to rub against that perfect spot in your pussy. You felt like crying from the pleasure that intensified the feeling of ecstasy inside you.

"Do you think your boyfriend will be happy when you tell him who's going to fuck you from now on?" he purred, rubbing his nose against your cheek. The scent of desperation filled his nostrils. You needed to come. You needed to be free from this burning feeling in your mind.

"What boyfriend?" you asked, overcome by the approaching fulfillment.

Joel smiled against your face and began to place wet kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes, tangling your fingers in his hair and fully surrendering yourself to everything he was giving you. His cock gently stimulated your cervix and the rest of his length created the perfect friction that drove you crazy. His hand sensually stroked your thigh and the other caressed your breast. This deadly combination quickly took away the last of your ability to think.

"Will you come for me, pretty girl?" he whispered, gently biting your skin. "Cum for me and let me fill you."

The only answer you were able to give him was a long moan as you reached your peak. You could dimly hear his praises and how proud he was of you. The feeling of euphoria spread through your body in strong waves, reaching the furthest corners of your body. Joel watched with fascination as the orgasm took over your body, the way you began to arch beneath him, the way you clenched your fingers tightly in his hair in need. This sight was something he feared he would never see again in his life. And yet, it was you lying beneath him, satisfied, overcome by pleasure.

The throbbing of your cunt and just you in yourself, drove him mad. Orgasm shook his body as if the last time he fucked was thirty years ago. The pleasure overpowered his ability to breathe. He froze, letting his cum fill you completely.

It felt like when he first discovered what his hand could do.

Overcome by the experience, he didn't even notice you watching him in silence, trying to calm your breathing. Your eyes sparkled as you stared at his tired face. You couldn't accept the fact that you had just experienced what you had dreamed of for a long time. And for the first time in a long time, you were just so fucking happy.

"Thank you," you whispered, placing your hands on his cheeks and lifting your head to connect your lips in a gentle kiss. Joel didn't resist even a second as he deepened the kiss, crushing you with his weight.

In that moment, you could admit that you forgot about the whole world. It was only him.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 

"I could do this all day, princesa. " 

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 

"You okay?" 

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 

He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 

"Do you want to?" 

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 

"Fuck, Miguel." 

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 

You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 

_

_

_

[zhongrin]

psssst Rin idea ehehe.... imagine having a remote control vibrator and alhaitham has the remote :))) that's it that's all bye //runs

crys.

crys.

crys.

...... must you send this while i'm on my period hauhdwhjfshdakhd

cw. minors dni, fem!reader, afab!reader, vibrator, self-indulgent shit bc i'm 1) in pain, 2) horny, and 3) just because i can. tldr; this is crys' fault /silly /lh

al haitham has your cycle memorized. it may sound like a useless thing to dedicate one of his brain cells for, but in his opinion, it really isn't. the common theories of the female hormones factors a lot into your mood and emotions, hence it makes a good tool to interpret your actions and outlines a specific guideline for him to act accordingly to make sure he continues to prove himself a suitable partner for you.

but sometimes, the man couldn't resist but just to tease you a bit.

and you look adorable in his eyes, all flushed and pouty like this.

"what's wrong? i thought someone said she wanted to 'get all the chores done before my uterus throws a tantrum for not getting to house a fetus'?" he asked, a little too nonchalantly, as he pressed buttons on the washing machine with one hand, the other sneaking into his pocket to play with the intensity of the little toy fitting snugly between your puffy folds.

"you're evil," you somehow managed to choke out, knees trembling as you held onto the edges of the sink, having to pause from cleaning the dishes at the heightened vibrations, "evil."

"that's not what you said last night with your legs wrapped around my w-"

"al haitham!!!"

"we're at home and kaveh's out to survey a project. i see no reasons for you to act unnecessarily demure."

you grumbled and muttered under your breath as you tried to wash the soap suds off the plates. a chuckle left your boyfriend's lips, and you feel a momentary relief when the buzz between your legs lessened into a hum.

key word here being 'momentary'.

you continued on ー wiping the plates dry, setting them onto the drying rack… as you reached out to open the cupboard drawer, the devil whispering in your beloved's ears seemed to have won the silent battle within his mind, for the bullet-shaped contraption seemed to increase in intensity with every seconds that passed. higher. higher. higher.

"h-haith- oh- fuck-" the quiver in your voice was palpable; arms steadying yourself onto the counter in a hurry. you were sure the dampness would have shown over your shorts by now; he'd been playing with that remote all morning, and it was driving you nuts.

perhaps it was that very desperation that prompted you to turn towards him with a pair of pleading eyes. perhaps it was your hormones going haywire that made you latch onto him and whine like a bunny in heat, your hands roaming across broad muscles, hips canting towards the growing bulge beneath those grey sweatpants.

oh, you really, truly look adorable when you were insatiably horny, he thought.

"…. fine. consider it my duty to finish the chores later," lush greens zeroes on the trickle of slick slipping down your thigh, the swipe of his tongue across his lips unconscious yet felt like added desire into your already heated loins.

"for now, i suppose your duty is to be thoroughly spoiled by me."

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat | @hrts4hanniehae | @fiannee | @jingyuansbird | @florapocalypses | @genshin-impacts-me | @scarasmood | @hellcatinnc | @beloved-brynn

[amourisms]

souvenir sent me to heaven, if you’re taking requests i’d love to see a part 2 or another wally one shot. you’re amazing! <3

tease.

summary : who knew wally was so sentimental about his souvenirs?

pairing : wally west x fem!reader

warnings : oral ( f rec ), gag used, fingering, dirty talk, wallys a bit nasty in this one, vibrator ( its him ), edging, begging.

wc : 2k

a/n : been meaning to get around to this for a while hope you enjoy ily

read part one here !

this. this was a golden opportunity, and now all you had to do was wait for wally to get back. you were only snooping around his room to find a mission file but what you uncovered was so much better.

it wasn't long before wally came back zipping all around the place, before finally stopping in his bedroom. if he was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. instead he only asked, "what are you doing in my room?" your hands were placed behind your back holding your little discovery and a shit-eating grin was plastered on your face that you couldn't control. "better question is… what was this doing under your pillow?" you asked teasingly, removing your hands behind your back and waving your panties in front of his face. the same panties he stole from you as a souvenir. your relationship with wally stayed unchanged for the most of it, but ever since the kitchen incident you hadn't stopped thinking about it. about him.

it hadn't been long but neither of you hardly said a word to each other since, and you had just assumed he was indifferent to what happened. but this? this truly was something else, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to act all smug about it. "wallace west, the honourable kid flash," you stretched out the word as you stepped closer, "tell me, what do you do with these?"

his lips were pursed together and his eyes flickered around in thought before he answered, "you want the honest answer or some bullshit one?" you didn't even need to open your mouth as a slight tilt of your head and darkened glare said all he need to know. "well if you reaaally want to know," he stepped closer, "its my favourite souvenir. keep it under my pillow for safekeeping and easy access" he says nonchalantly. you try to hide the shock enveloping your features but ultimately he noticed it faster than you did. "you're horrible," you tell him with a reluctant smile on your face. "horrible? i haven't even told you what i do with them yet." he says feigning hurt.

"i rub them all over my cock," he steps closer, "i think about your hands all over me, the way you said my name, how you looked on your knees" he steps closer, "how fucking heavenly you felt." your breath hitches in your throat, and its only then you realised you've been trapped between him and his bed. his hands find a home on your hips, which made you melt enough for your brain to ditch any remaining self control you had left. he embraces your lips messily, like all his self control had been thrown to the wind as well.

before you can wrap your arms around his neck he pushes you back onto the bed with zero warning. before you can get mad at him, wally climbs on top of you and starts kissing on your neck. somehow, he simultaneously manages to remove your clothes as he continues kissing down your body. his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, being sure to leave your underwear on. he speaks through the kisses on your stomach, "might need another souvenir." although the idea soaks his precious souvenir even more you lightly smack his arm in rebuttal to his words, "at this rate, i won't have any panties left to wear."

you can feel his smile on your skin as his hands finally move to remove your underwear. he lifts his head up, only just slightly, so you can see his piercing green eyes as he speaks, "i told you i like easy access." once he finally gets the pair off, he holds them up proudly, "such a gorgeous pair, babe, don't you think we should put them to good use?" and with that he wasted no time in stuffing them in your mouth.

before you could protest, he began to lazily drag his tongue over your cunt eliciting a soft whimper from you. it wasn't long before he began focusing on your clit, overwhelming sensations taking over your entire body. when he added a finger into the mix of it all, inserting it in your hole and gradually adding another, your hand couldn't help but grip onto his hair. your body felt out of your control as your thighs clamped around his face. now it was your turn to trap him in, and just as you didn't mind he didn't either. in fact, he wished he could stay between your legs forever.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, but wally was keeping you on the edge. you tried telling him you needed to come but it all came out as inaudible mumbles. "whats that?" he asked sarcastically as his fingers remained working you up. you groaned and whimpered in response bucking your hips into his hand as further indication to what you wanted. "just tell me what you want," he tells you with a fake softness, "i can't give it to you until you ask." god, you hated wally west. even if your body showed the opposite.

as his fingers worked relentlessly inside you, it only got you more and more frustrated. he watched you in awe as you whined and wriggled underneath him, trying so badly to chase your high. in a fit of annoyance, you ended up ripping out your makeshift gag yourself and with wally's fingers slowing down in reaction you could swear you'd throw him into a wall. if only his hair wasn't so messy and tousled, and his eyes weren't so cunning, and his lips weren't curved into such a calculating smirk, and his face wasn't covered in your own juices. maybe you actually would've. instead you gave up with a sigh of defeat before softly whispering, "please, 'needa cum so bad."

he takes a second before answering, "i'm not sure you do," his tone is conniving as his fingers fasten. he truly was an evil, scheming son of a bitch. that knot in your stomach you were all too familiar with by now revived and you couldn't stop the sea of words that began flowing out, "please please please", "need you", "'want you to make me come, wally." hearing his name come out of mouth, so breathless and desperate, he finally decided to end your torture (and his considering the way his boxers felt impossibly tight and he was now rutting against the bed).

in a singular fluid motion, he had manoeuvred his arms around your thighs to force them apart against your instincts and began lapping at your juices. your hips grinded against his face while he ate you out like you were his favourite meal. you probably were. as his tongue fucked your needy hole, his nose brushed against your clit and it wasn't long before he was able to take you to the edge again. seeing you in this state, wally made every movement quicker and quicker until you could feel him vibrate. the sensation urged a moan to fall from your tongue and it only made the vibrations stronger. between his nose and his tongue, your clit and your hole, the vibrations, it all became too much. a wave crashed down, filling your entire body with ecstasy and relief. wally let you take a minute to come down as he wiped all your essence off his face with the back of his hand and took his shirt off.

you let yourself drink in his figure whilst he grabbed a condom from his bedside table before taking his pants and boxers off. you'd seen him shirtless during training before, but right now? the way his arms looked as he rolled the condom on himself and his abs contracted with every deep breath made you a lot more lustful than you'd like to admit. before he could try anything you managed to swap spots with him before kissing him again. as he kissed you back, you pushed him backwards onto the bed, so he leaned against the headboard whilst you moved your legs to either side of his. with a hand on his shoulder, you used your other to stroke his dick in slow motions. he bit your lip as his own way of telling you to go faster, but you decided to stop entirely only leaving your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. he pulled away from the kiss only to be met with your alluring smile.

"you're a jerk, you know that?" wally told you as he leaned his head backward and looked at the ceiling accepting his karma. you leaned into his ear, "not as much as you, babe" you whispered before sliding down onto him. the action made his head snap back and his hands grab onto your hips almost immediately. you had a hand flat on his chest and another on his abs as you slowly rocked back and forth to get better adjusted to his size. you thought he stretched you out last time? this position made you feel him deeper than you thought possible.

his grip on your skin got tighter as he began to gently rock your body faster until you decided to outdo his pace on your own. your nails began to dig into his chest. you could've drawn blood but wally couldn't have cared less. in truth, it probably made him even harder and if you weren't so blissed out you most likely would've felt it.

your body moved with unwavering passion, as wally moved a hand to the side of your slack jaw. he placed his thumb in your mouth and you were quick to suck on it with a flurry of muffled whimpers rising from your throat. the entire scene was pure euphoria to wally. your brows furrowed, lips wrapped around his fingers, nails digging into his skin and your body working so desperately to chase your own high. euphoria.

wally removed his finger from between the warmth of your lips and moved that same thumb down to your clit as he kissed you. the synchronicity of his actions made your head drown in pleasure, making you moan into the kiss. "shit, you're gripping me like a vice," he told you breathlessly between kisses, "look so good fucking yourself dumb on my cock." you would've spat a remark back at him, but he was right and there wasn't a thought in your head except for him.

wally let out a guttural groan when you pulsed around him and once again his hands were on your waist as he planted his feet on the bed. he started meeting your movements with hard and fast thrusts. every movement he made had you teetering over the edge, but when your face nestled into the crook of his neck and he whispered in your ear was all the push you needed to send you over the edge. "that's my girl," he spoke in drawn out words as he noted to memorise every movement you made. he watched the rise and fall of your chest and how the hands on his chest had softened as a wave of pure pleasure washed over your body. most importantly, he took note of the way you clenched around him making his movements falter.

it wasn't long before his orgasm followed suit and you could feel him twitch inside you. a groan escaped from his lips as he bought his forehead to rest against yours. the both of you were now a sweaty, exhausted mess and the aroma of sex became noticeable as he helped you up off of him. wally took a minute as he laid beside you before sliding the condom off him and placing it into a bin whilst slipping into his boxers. you noticed he went to collect your clothes and before he could hand them to you, you rolled your eyes, "don't tell me you're taking another souvenir."

"thanks for the reminder" he answered with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

[leviismybby]

Levi putting a pillow under your hips to go deeper into you 🤤

Hey there anon! Sorry that this took long but YES!

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

Warning:NSFW 18+, minors dni, slight edging, Levi railing you until your legs give out. :))

All you hear is Levi growling and the sound of his cock sliding in and out of you, you don't even hear yourself for the better probably, the moans you're letting out are noisy.

"You feel so good." He leans in nibbling on your earlobe until you turn your head to capture his lips. The kiss is messy, you didn't expect it to be otherwise, sex with Levi always was messy.

"Deeper Levi.." You mumble against his lips and Levi bites on your lower lip pulling away. "Deeper?" He releases your hands, pulling you up so that you are riding him.

You throw your head back allowing him to suck at your already bruised neck, his hands are on your back pulling you ever so closer to his body.

But he stops all his movements and you drop your head onto his shoulder. "Why? Why did you stop?" You ask breathlessly as you feel Levi reach for something behind you, slipping out of you and making you whine.

He kisses your lips before gently laying your body back and you feel something soft under your hips. In this position with the pillow under you, you have no choice but to arch a little.

"You said deeper. I'll fucking give it to you." Without a warning he enters you, your hands grip the sheets hard, moaning loudly. "Oh fuck Levi!"

He hisses at the tightness of your warm walls as they clamp around him. His hips snap into you mercilessly, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"Yeah? Does that feel better sweet girl?" You don't reply, too fucked out to think. His grip on your hips gets rougher, they will surely leave marks behind.

One of Levi's hands comes up your body to grip your breast, his fingers play with your nipple which causes you to arch your back more.

His cock hits your cervix with each thrust and you feel like you're about to explode, your legs start shaking. "Already?" You hear Levi say, not knowing if he was talking to you or himself.

Again he stops, slipping out of you, you almost curse at him. "Levi.....please no more. I want to cum." You feel him press a kiss on your navel, licking the skin afterwards.

"I know baby.I know." He takes your thighs this time, spreading you wider. His eyes linger on your wet cunt and you almost feel a little shy under his intense gaze.

He aims your body in the angle he wants and enters you with zero problems, your pussy sucking him in perfectly. "Shit, you're so fucking wet baby."

This time he is ruthless, cock pounding you hard and deep just like you wanted. His hands move to your waist and you take the opportunity to dig your nails into his bicep.

Feeling your wet walls squeeze around him tightly, he doesn't slow down only goes harder. He knows that you are about to cum.

And you do, your legs spasm, eyes rolling back as pure pleasure takes all over your body. You cum screaming his name and you hear him grunt as your fingers leave red marks on his arms.

"Levi! Slow-mmh!" He slaps your thigh, continuing to thrust roughly into you. His hands are back on your hips, fucking you like he won't ever get to again.

"This fucking cunt. Too fucking good." Levi lost control in lust, he wants nothing more than to paint your perfect skin with his cum.

You feel that pressure build up in your lower belly again and Levi notices, his fingers play with your clit and you bite the back of your hand trying to muffle the sound that leaves your lips.

Coming around his cock, you feel him twitch inside of you. Levi throws his head back, your name fleeing his mouth as he pulls out and cums all over your stomach.

The two of you stay in that position for a little while until he pulls the pillow from under your hips, your body falling limp on the bed. He eyes the wet stain on the surface of the pillow.

"Well looks like you won't have a pillow for tonight.." You are barely hearing what he is saying, you can't feel your legs. Levi places a few pecks on your face before kissing you on the lips.

"You okay?" He whispers eyes glancing at your face. "Yes but my legs aren't." Levi smirks getting up to pick up any fabric he can find to clean you.

"You told me to go deeper and that's what I did." Softly he wipes his cum off your stomach, your eyes start closing, exhausted from it all.

"Oi! We still need to take a bath."

---------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @lovolee3 @luvjiro @ackermendick @laraackerman @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @levisgreyeyes @whynotsleepp @niki-sun

[igotanidea]

Cracking: Damian Wayne x reader

part 5 of "Family rules" series.

He was going mad.

For a girl.

Nothing he ever thought would happen to someone like him.

A guy raised by assassins and Batman, who was used to putting his feelings at bay if even having any.

And now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

It was impossible for someone as perceptive as Robin himself to miss her paleness and sadness. At least whenever he was near. 

And avoiding him at any cost.

And – as it usually happens – the teachers were completely oblivious to the situation and that was about to be the source of a hell of a problem for both Damian and Y/N.

“Pairs? What do you mean we’ll be working in pairs?!” she exclaimed at one history lesson upon hearing the great idea of their tutor.

“Is that such a horror for you, Y/N?” the teacher smiled through the glasses and in any other situation it would be almost benevolent but not this time.

“Yes!”

“Well I am afraid the class has already divided so you just have to comply.”

“But—”  she spun around and groaned both internally and externally upon realizing that her little outburst only left her one person to work with. “Fucking great…” she muttered noticing Damian swinging casually on his seat, not having a single care in the world.

“Miss Y/L/N!”

“I’m not working with him!”

“Getting scared, Y/L/N?” Damian smirked, knowing well how to use the opportunity. He’s been trying to talk to her for the last two weeks since that little beating in the hallway but she was surprisingly skilled in disappearing in thin air. And since he was also a teenage boy, mocking and teasing seemed the only way to reach his goal.

“Pff!” she scoffed, crossing arms over his chest. The need to prove herself superior to him was fighting with an iron resolve to forget his existence.

“Y/N, sit down now and do not make a scene. I do not understand what’s been happening to you lately.” The teacher instructed, clearly losing patience with one of the best students.

“Fine…” she muttered, plumping on the chair as far from Damian as possible, still grumpy, hardly even listening to the teacher’s instructions on the task.

“Fate definitely has a wicked sense of humor huh, Y/L/N?”

“Can you just shut up?”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yeah, no shit genius.”

“Why?”

“Why do you care?”

“Well I am asking so clearly I do.”

“You don’t really strike me as a caring type, Wayne.”

“Maybe not by your definition. Not my fault you are so conceited you mess up care and selfishness.” He mocked.

“What did you say?” Y/N hissed

Damian smirked. This was the exact reaction he was trying to get out of her.

“You call me selfish, you little prick?” Her eyes flashed with anger. “You piece of shit. You look down on everybody because you are fucking Wayne and you dare reflect all your fucking traits onto me!?”

The girl didn’t even notice how her voice got louder and how she was suddenly standing instead of sitting and quietly working on the task. She missed the fact that she was making a scene for the whole class to see, once again dragging all the attention to herself. And once again the reason for her emotional outburst was Damian Wayne. Who she hated with all her heart. Who made her act like a fool and clearly – bring out the worst of the good girl she always considered herself to be.

“Who do you think you fucking are?!” Her self-control was now completely gone “You think you can just do whatever you fucking want and have zero consequences coming from it!?”

Thank god the phones were not allowed in classes cause at this moment she would definitely end up being a meme on social media.

“Y/N!” the teacher finally woke up from the shock that her transformation brought upon everyone. “Enough! Principal’s office. Now. In fact – “ he looked around, his gaze landing on Damian. “Both of you.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong. There is no basis for me to go –” Damian stated with the most cold voice he could produce.

“I don’t care!” the teacher seemed to finally lose his cool “you two are trouble and I’m not having either in my class. Now off you go. Out!” he pointed to the doors and with exchanged hateful glances Y/N and Damian decided to obey. Part of the reason was also the fact that they both knew they were in full capacity to drive the principal crazy just by showing up on the doorstep to his den.

***

“The hell is wrong with you?” he muttered as soon as they were out the door and on the empty hallway.

“Oh, me? You are the one who seems to be constantly looking for my attention.”

“And why do you think that is?” The sudden change in his tone took her by such a surprise she stopped and dared to do something that did not happen in a few weeks. She looked at him. More precisely, into his eyes. And in them, she saw something she did not like. At all.

Emotions.

Pain.

Confusion.

Embarrassment.

Affection!?

“Damian…” she gulped heavily trying to clear her head and calm her rapidly beating heart.

“You are annoying. Unnerving.” He hissed, his eyes fixed on hers “Messed up. I don’t understand you. You are a mystery I cannot crack. And it’s making me angry.”

If he was a normal person he would probably clench his fists right now.

“Then why don’t you just leave me alone?!”

“Stop yelling.” Damian grabbed her hand and dragged her into the nearest empty classroom so that no one would catch them causing disturbances in the hallway. “How come for years we didn’t care about each other and now we can’t seem to be within five feet distance without fighting?”

“Oh please!” she scoffed leaning on the door “Care? Have you been reading a dictionary and learning new words?”

“You are getting on my nerves here Y/L/N.” Damian took a step closer to her trying to look menacing and as much Robin-like as possible.

“Then let me ask you again – why don’t you fucking leave me alone!?”

“Because I can’t!”

There. The armor cracked and even though he barely said anything it felt awful. He exposed himself. Showed his weak points to the enemy.  Lost on his own wish.

For a moment his words seemed to echo from the empty walls of the classroom, the air filled with tension.

“You’re not even trying are you? Damian?” her voice was surprisingly quiet and soft, even to herself.

“No…” he confessed, unable to fight against those e/c eyes fixed on his face “no… no, I am not trying.”

“Damian…”

“Please…” now he was so low as to stoop to begging. And it was humiliating. Downgrading. Scary. “Please don’t run from me, Y/L/N. You are driving me mad.”

All it took was one more look. One more exchange of glances filled with mixed emotions.

And they were back to that gala night.

The classroom was gone, the school forgotten and all that mattered was holding her close, preventing her from running away and that strange, strange, unknown feeling in his chest.

Everything important in this moment came down to the feeling of his arms around her, hearing his heartbeat against her ear and calming the storm of the emotions neither of them understood.

For some reason, simply holding onto each other felt like a peace amongst the storm. Like a lighthouse guiding them to safe haven amongst the families feud and last-names competition.

“What are we gonna do-?” he was the one to cut the silence, the weight of questions pressing onto his shoulders making him speak before he could think about the consequences of his doubts.

“I don’t know-“ said implications took form of her pulling back from him “I don’t know Damian-“

“Don’t go-“ with the reflex of a vigilante Damian gripped her arm causing her to whimper in pain. “Y/l/n? You good? What happened?” The strength he used was definitely not enough to make her react like this.

“Nothing. Nothing. It’s nothing!” she responded quickly trying to wriggle away. Too quickly. Quickly enough to make him suspicious and ignoring her protest to push him to roll her sleeve a little.

“What--?” the words died in his throat as he noticed the purple bruise on her forearm.

“It’s nothing!” she yanked free “you had no right!”

“I’m –” Damian stuttered. He messed up again.

“You’re a prick!”

“I’m sorry! But if we’re about to do- this-“ it was impossible to use the word concerning possible relationship or anything of sort – “you need to tell me. What happened?”

Y/N hesitated, torn between a lot of mixed things. Could she tell him? Could she not tell him? Every move came with the consequences, almost like she was reduced to a figure on the chessboard, constantly moved by someone else. Without any power to control her own life.

But one thing was certain.

Some things and some feelings were worth protecting.

And that’s why she had only one way of surviving.

“I can’t.” she whispered with a sad, apologetic smile. “I can’t, Damian.” Without missing a beat she leaned forward, kissing him as if trying to sweeten the bitter words. Pulling everything she had into the brief contact of lips on lips, like a silent apology of putting him through the mess.

Before Damian realized what was happening he was kissing her back, pulling her close, caressing her back, in his own way trying to show her he was going to protect her. But what did he know? He was only 17 with zero power to shape reality. And when he felt her slip from his grasp and losing her warmth against him that realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

But it didn’t mean he was going to give up.

Not now. Not ever. Not until she explicitly told him she didn’t want him.

***

 “How was school today?” her father asked her as soon as she stepped over the door to home. There was no denying Mr Y/L/N became very interested in his daughter's progress at school.

“It was normal.” Y/N couldn’t care less about his fake concern, trying to walk past him and get into her room.

“Ah! Not so fast, young lady. Did you do what I asked of you?”

“No.” The girl frowned, putting hands on her hips in a poor attempt at a power pose.

“No?”

“No!”

“Then I suppose we have to have the talk again, don’t we, little girl?”

She was in deep trouble that seemed to have no end….

@6000-fandoms @beyond-your-stars @mikyapixie

@heartz4miz @crookedmakerfury @mariam12344 @celestair

@faimmm @hornyslasher @urdarlingali @emmalove1111 @crookedmakerfury @herondale-lightworm @itzjustj-1000 @ginger24880 @anonymousmuffinbear @adharawitch @jasons-little-princess @sharkybabydoll @cupids-diner @whydoyoucare866 @ladychibirae

[atopvisenyashill]

Is Lyanna really as terrible as some people portray her as?

no, not even a little bit.

the absolute most important thing about lyanna is that when she dies she is only 16. i am someone who works with kids - i work in a library so i spend most of my days cleaning up after tweens and asking teenagers to please stop doing dumb shit- and the first thing anyone who has ever worked with kids and especially teenagers is that they may look like adults but they are NOT. they don’t understand boundaries, they have next to zero impulse control, and every bad thing that happens feels like the worst thing ever because it very likely IS the worst thing they’ve ever experienced bc they have not been alive that long!

and this goes for every single teen & tween character in this series, not just lyanna! shit, i am someone who feels an immense amount of sympathy for joffrey! on one side he’s got his mother telling him he can do anything he wants with no repercussions and on the other he’s got his father hitting him so hard that stannis thought joffrey was going to die. and then he is given unchecked power and told not to abuse it! EYE cannot even guarantee that i wouldn’t use unchecked power to do shady shit and i am a fully grown adult, not a traumatized, irrationally, and deeply vindictive 13 year old boy.

but honestly the most important thing about lyanna is that we have ZERO CONTEXT for what happens between her and Rhaegar. What we have is

Ned’s sparse & guilt ridden thoughts about Lyanna and one (1) comment about Rhaegar

Robert’s angry, entitled, and grief ridden outbursts about Lyanna and Rhaegar

Barristan’s incredibly romanticized, guilt & grief ridden take on their relationship

Meera’s second hand account of Lyanna, told to her by a father who is likely just as guilt & grief ridden as the others, who likely has his own view of Lyanna

What’s important to note is that our view of her is heavily filtered through the eyes of the men that knew her. Robert loves an idealized version of her that never existed. Barristan never actually knew her. Ned is not only viewing her under 200 layers of guilt and grief, but very obviously does not understand his sister, or why she made the choices she did, and struggles constantly with knowing that he will never know her the way he wishes he could, the way he thought he did. Given the way Meera describes Lyanna, I actually think Howland is our most accurate look at her but even that is buried behind years of grief & a fair amount of hero worship and affection (“that’s my fathers man you’re kicking howled the she-wolf” is a line that makes me WEEP for this exact reason; Howland sees Lyanna as his hero above all else!).

All of that to say - we don't even know what Lyanna did that was so terrible! Even if she was a grown woman capable of making rational decisions, we have no idea what her decisions were. She could have been lied to, misled, kidnapped, threatened, just as surely as she could have walked into the situation with open eyes. Even in the show, with a slightly aged up Lyanna - we get, what, just Sam's opinion on Rhaegar and Lyanna being in love because they got hitched? Completely ignoring the fact that we had several women in this series get married not because they were in love or willing but because someone more powerful decided on it and that was that, so there's still no evidence that Lyanna had enough information about the situation to make any sort of informed, consensual decision.

so no, i do not hold lyanna responsible for anything at all that happened regardless of how it happened because she was not mentally mature enough to understand what the hell was going on. a 15 year old is just not mature enough to think “if i run off with this married man, it’s going to cause a cascade of political issues that could have disastrous consequences.” what she’s probably thinking is “this man says he can help me and i am fucking miserable and no one else will listen.” it’s why we don’t throw 15 year olds who run away to meet up with old dudes they met online in jail when they’re caught (or theoretically why we don’t punish them at any rate). There is one person and one person only who is responsible for the massive fuck up that is the Elia-Rhaenys-Aegon-Lyanna-Jon mess and that is RHAEGAR, the person with the most amount of power who used it in the dumbest way imaginable and got himself, most of his heirs, his wife, and his teenaged mistress killed. The only other people responsible are the Kingsguard who kept Lyanna under lock and key while she lay dying and pleading for her brother to come save her.

[pursuitseternal]

Can I get number 13 for Ascended Astarion x Reader or f!tav? I’ll let you pick as I really can’t decide 😅

“No more, please, I can’t…”

Ascended Astarion x f!Reader | Smut Asks

CW: overstimulation, orgasm control, oral (fem receiving)

Your screams echo off the rafters, vocal chords grating as your voice cracks from overuse.

From screaming in pleasure as you come yet again on his fingers and tongue.

Somehow, your body still isn’t drained dry completely from all the sweat and blood and arousal he’s stolen tonight. Somehow, when you come, you’re even wetter than before. This time, you can hear it, the wet squelch of your juices as you clench and shudder in your release. Astarion gives a low, reverberating chuckle. It rattles your bones and vibrates your cunt as he lazily licks you clean.

“Good, my consort,” he purrs. “Again.”

The whine that comes from your gaping mouth is pathetic, even to you. “Please…” the word barely passes your cracked and croaking chords.

“Again,” he just commands. A nip on your inner thigh, and he sucks deeply from the blood that seeps out. “If you wish to well and truly please me, you’ll come again on my tongue, and then again on my cock, and then again…. Until you’ve reached your ten count for today.”

He sucks loudly, slurping your blood with those wet and dripping lips. “And what was your current count again?”

Shit. Your mind is a mess, a blur of hazy pleasure that can barely keep reality from fantasy any longer. “S-s-six?” you answer, unconvincingly.

Long nails dig into the supple flesh of your thighs, and he bites hard again into your skin. This time to punish. “Don’t tell me my pet has lost count…” His tone is ice and velvet, threat and promise wrapped in honeyed tones. “If you’ve lost count on how many times you’ve climaxed, you know what happens…”

“We start over,” you groan, trying to close your thighs to give your swollen, aching folds a moment of respite. “N-n-no more, please, I can’t…” the weak words tumble from your lips, only earning a sly crimson glare from between your thighs.

“Well, is it six?” he taunts you, licking his lips that are a frightening mess of your juices and blood. That sharp, predatory glint gleams brighter in his eyes. “Or are we back to zero, my delicious pet?”

“No!” you cry, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face. “S-s-seven!” you pant, groaning and writhing as he pries your legs back apart, a warm palm on each one.

“That’s right, my dear,” he smirks at you, tilting that head, sweaty silver curls falling over his forehead and almost into his intensely staring eyes. “Now, you eager little thing, shall we continue?”

He doesn’t give you time to breathe, much less reply, before his face is deep in your cunt. Your world reduces down to the breadth of his tongue laving your cunt and his hot breath warming you flesh, already on fire and swollen for more.

[gauloiseblue]

I just realized that IOFAB König is 40. At the very least 35. Cuz like HE'S A COLONEL. He has to be at least 40 to be able to be a colonel or maybe be in his 30s and be a lieutenant colonel (or maybe he's younger and his company is just corrupt). And this is if he's been in the military since he was of legal age which he probably was I mean, I know it's a fanon thing that König is a colonel so that's prolly why IOFAB König is a colonel but I'm getting to off topic

What I mean is... IOFAB König is at the very least in his very late 30s and probably experiences some kind of chronic pain (or those kinds of pain due to injuries). HE GOT SHOT IN THE SHOULDER AND STILL MANAGES TO SWING AROUND A FUCKING SLEDGEHAMMER and not only that HE RAILED READER FOR (presumably) MULTIPLE ROUNDS

DUDE IS A MONSTER

Did he like what? did the usual aftercare after? or had them shoulder treated first?

It's possible it's the adrenaline though...

Why do I feel like you're strangely turned on by how strong he was? XD

He is in his 40s in IOFAB, and idk if you ever meet people in their 40s, but they're still quite strong y'know 🤔 I know a man who could carry 30 kg worth of luggage without breaking a sweat, I know someone who could still ride a bike for 100++ km, they could even be stronger than the young men nowadays.

He wouldn't do much of the aftercare since he had to stop the bleeding, but he'd put her on the bed after he finished.

This is just a candid take but he's the type who'd keep the memory of the attempted murder from his wife. If the bullet didn't hit a major artery, he'd keep it inside. But if it did, he'd keep it as a memento. If you ask me why, I'd say that he did it bc he likes the chase.

But tbh, adrenaline is a hell of a drug, so…

[eyesxxyou]

thinkin about hobie who moans like a girl w a reader who loves the sound of his voice 🤭🤭 like imagine him sending videos of himself jacking off or sum whining their name and shit 🤭🤭🤭

*ೃ˚ :💿 sub!hobie x femdom!reader

❝ warnings ❞ video sex, pegging, riding, oral (f receiving), crying, overstimulation, begging, messy sex, sub!Hobie, dom!reader (fem implied)

This but like- submissive Hobie in general 😫

Hobie who has absolutely zero backbone when it comes to you and will do anything you please. Who sends you videos every time you asks with him fervently jerking himself off to the point of climax, moaning like a little bitch the whole time. "Mhh~ please, luv, pl-ease...I needa- cum."

Hobie who lets you peg him on the regular. You'll have him splayed out with his legs around your hips and your hands lifting his hips so you can fuck him nice and easy. Oh, the way he squeals when you touch that special place in him, have him shuddering uncontrollably and muttering your name in breathless moans. When you fuck him hard from the back, he cries into the pillows, back curving until you sooth it out and tell him to stop being a little bitch and take it. You'll lay up on top of him too, your hands pinning his slender wrist to the mattress while you rub your hips into his ass and message that tender spit until his whines like a whore, cumming with his cock stroking the bed before he cums into the sheets.

When you don't peg him, you ride him into overstimulation. You have him dizzily rutting his hips up into you, tears streaking his cheeks as your pussy strokes his cock through his third orgasm. It hurts to cum now but you know you can get just one more out of him. "Y/n- Y/n fuck! Please, please, please, 'll be so good. So good." He'll whine and hold your body to his, kissing at the valley of your breasts. His entire body is shuddering, his very thighs are shaking out of his control. "I can', luv, I can'. Please."

You'll grab his hair and pull his head back. "Who said you could touch me?" You'll ride him harder and he'll let out that little moan of his that let you know he's on the cusp of another orgasm. Your thighs are already slick with cum, pussy wet, his cock coated. You've made a mess of yourselves.

And you know he eats pussy like a champ, like he's been starved of everything divine in life. He'll let you grind your pussy on his tongue however you please and when he manages to get some control, he'll worship your clit and finger your hole nice and slow until your orgasm unravels you and you pet his head and call him a good boy.

[avocado-writing]

I love your work and saw that your request for baldur's gate 3 was open and was wondering if you can do Astarion x abused? Reader

Basically the reader's father was a narcissist and they or she whichever you prefer. Even though they ran away years ago old habits die hard. They feel the need to take care of everyone else cause that's how they survived for so long and put on a front of being the strong leader they "need". Then maybe they have some sort of nightmare either being dragged back or something feeling the trapped feeling they felt for so long. Maybe Astarion hears them whimpering or something after a hunt and curiosity gets the best of him and ends up comforting them. 

notes: didnt want to get too into what abuse the reader had suffered, so I kept it reasonably vague. hurt/comfort

rating: M (due to themes)

pairing: astarion x reader

Astarion hears the sobbing from the moment he steps foot into camp.

He has exceptional hearing anyway and having just fed his senses are sharpened to a knife-point - he zeroes in on the sound with bat-like perception. Ears twitching as he goes, he tip-toe follows the noise to… 

…your tent.

That is a surprise. He’s not sure that he’s ever been present to you being anything other than… well, joyful. Constantly smiling. Constantly caring. Constantly laughing and reaching out a hand in friendship, the very epitome of what a good leader ought to be. Even in battle you don’t let awful odds get to you, always crying out reassurance from behind your shield as you fend off bloodied spears and vicious claws.

Maybe it is ego that makes Astarion go to your little refuge. He wants to see you shatter, just a bit. Just so he can reassure himself that you aren’t as infallible as you seem; that you are kith like the rest of them, able to err and break.

Or maybe it’s not because of any of that. It is because, despite it all, he has genuinely come to care for you.

Either way when he pulls open the fabric door his heart twinges uncomfortably in his chest.

You sit up in your bedroll, face buried in your hands, ugly tears boiling out from under your palms and soaking the sleeves of your sleep clothes. Your whole body heaves from both the raw emotion and the effort of trying to keep it under control. He’s never seen you so open. 

You look up when you hear the rustle of his arrival. He freezes as the two of you lock eyes. 

“Shit,” is all he can muster, and is it relief he feels when despite everything, you laugh?

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask, grabbing a handful of blanket and roughly drying your face with it. An attempt to hide the shame of crumbling.

“No, I was still up - out hunting,” he says, and you nod in acceptance. The two of you remain there for a moment, staring. Astarion is stuck on a threshold, both literally between outside and in, but also one of the soul. He wants to reach out. He wants to withdraw. He doesn’t know what he wants.

Eventually, your soft eyes win him over. He walks in and lets the tent fall closed, sitting down across from you on your bedroll. He feels your feet wiggle aside to make space for him and is struck by the intimacy of what he is doing.

This is unlike him. Stupid, stupid. Don’t reveal too much, don’t leave yourself open to vulnerability. He tries to affect a posture of ease, leaning back on his hands.

“Nightmare?” he asks. You nod again, sighing.

“Sorry, I must look dreadfully silly. I was just thinking about… someone I used to know.”

Astarion winces. Yes. He’s been there, hasn’t he - devoured by the panic of your past catching up with you. 

“You don’t look silly at all. A bit blotchy, perhaps, but not all of us can look beautiful when we cry.”

He flips his hair and that makes you laugh again. The atmosphere in the tent gets a little lighter. He watches the way your hands desperately look for something to occupy them, how they start picking at the loose stitches in any fabric you can find.

“This man. He used to, erm… hurt me. Quite badly, actually.” He hates the way your usually vibrant eyes have dulled. “And I managed to get away - ran away, really - but sometimes… you know. Something reminds me of him and I get dragged down again.”

Damn it all, Astarion finds himself reaching out and covering your hands with one of his. You stop your slow dismantling of your blanket thread-by-thread.

“I understand,” is what he’s able to force out of his suddenly tight throat. He’s mentioned Cazador before, trying to make a joke out of it, pretending it doesn’t bother him now that it’s all in the past - but it does bother him. Scares the life out of him, really, or this facsimile of a life he’s been able to build for himself now he’s free. 

Your fingers slide between his and hold him very tightly. 

The two of you sit in silence.

And then he decides to move properly, shuffling ungraciously so that he can be by your side rather than across from you, his arms wrapping around your body and bringing you close.

Your shoulders hitch a little. Fresh tears warm his shirt, patched dozens of times over because of a man who wouldn’t let him buy anything nice and new.

“I’m fucking tired of being strong. It feels like it’s too much sometimes,” you confess, voice barely louder than a whisper. He tucks his head over yours, your scalp beneath his chin, as if he can shield you from the world like this.

“Then don’t be strong. If it feels better, be weak, my dear. I’m the only one here and I promise you that won’t mind.”

You know that, for once, he won’t. Astarion ‘my favourite activity is to judge everyone I meet’  Ancunín is happy to let you lay your soul bare in front of him. So you do, you let yourself force every emotion you’ve ever bottled up leak out of you, in drips at first and then in a full tsunami. You cry so hard that you lose the ability to make sound for a while, silently choking on tears long since overdue.

He holds you all through it. He is not a strong man but his grip is tight, keeping you grounded, and he knows it helps because eventually you go from crying to sobbing to neutral to asleep. You breath evens out into something more controlled and when he moves to look at your face he is relieved your eyes have shut and that you can finally find a little peace. Gods know you deserve it.

You’re the strongest one of them all. He decides that perhaps he wouldn’t mind being there to help you shoulder things, if you need.

He lays down with you, limbs tangled, and drifts off.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget@hopeful-n-sad

[tired-biscuit]

Step-dad bakugo breeding kink part 2.

cw: stepcest, breeding kink, daddy kink, age gap, infidelity // 18+ mdni, fem!reader

part 1

ever since filling you up that drunken night on the couch, bakugou becomes addicted to fucking you completely sober, too.

some may call the first time it happened an unfortunate mishap, perhaps even an accident to some extent, however katsuki is already hooked after a single taste.

and much to his surprise, it seem that you are, too.

it's the way how you offer him the googly eyes not a moment after you step foot out of your bedroom the next morning, that has him thinking that. how hearts are literally lighting up inside your pupils like that damn effect which you've shown him trending on social media a while back, your pretty eyelashes fluttering; driving him batshit crazy every time your gazes meet as he drinks his coffee and eats his breakfast instead of taking the fuck off like the smart man he claims to be.

it's how you bend over as dramatically as you're able whilst rummaging through the fridge then, dressed in the tiniest pyjama shorts he's ever seen a woman wear before turning to smile at him over your shoulder because you just know he's watching. it's all of that.

you're insufferable, you make him want to claw at the walls even if his nails are blunt. and god, you're just so young. so ditzy and vigorous that you make him feel alive again by turning him into a leech for the thrill only young pussy can give to a man like him. i mean, how can he possibly resist slamming you again, when you're right there; throwing yourself at him in the middle of his fancy kitchen?

so he doesn't resist. no, instead, bakugou sighs as if it's a chore to indulge you as he pushes up from his favourite chair that he never allows you to sit on and walks over to where you're standing; still smiling that wretched grin that makes him want to slam his cock down your throat deep enough to wipe it off your lips. he shakes his head as if it's a bother to bend you over the kitchen counter and give you exactly what you're so shamelessly asking him for. he grunts as if it's a burden for him to fuck you stupid and make you cry for your daddy by the end of it.

but that's not what he actually thinks of the entire thing, of course not. no, because weeks pass, and yet he spends them all by continuing to slam you stupid on every single flat surface inside his home - the big, enormous house with plenty of room, and tables, and desks, and sofas, and counters, and beds; all of which he pays for with his sky-high pro hero salary and doesn't mind breaking at all.

and speaking of that, he also doesn't particularly care if you're on birth control or not either - never even asks if you are. the fact that there is a possible risk of him knocking you up is not important, because all that matters is taking you raw over and over again; getting the full experience of just how sickeningly sweet his little girl's cunt can be.

how your walls can squeeze him in a way his wife's can't as he fucks you amongst the stupid plushies in your new bedroom; how your grip turns so fucking tenacious that it feels like you're going to milk him dry whenever you become undone and he has to use those skilled, scar-riddled hands to paw at all of your trembling pieces before assembling you back together. how he gets to leave a mark behind after it - gets to watch his cum leak out of you, as well as the way you frantically squeeze your thighs together to keep it from spilling out of your abused hole every single time.

and fuck, he smirks whenever you do that: panic and try to push him off the moment he pulls out. you're nasty and filthy - letting him pound the shit out of you with zero protection and stuff you full with his cum, sure, but you're also weak; easy for him to manipulate you into letting him do just that, and to tease you about it, too.

especially when you're scared of your own mother coming home to find you like this, when you're so fucking afraid of the possibility of having to explain the mess on your bed sheets to her, because there's never a boy there to cause it in the first place. the only man that's allowed inside the house is your handsome stepdaddy, after all.

and much to your misfortune, he's more of the provocative sort.

[reveluving]

When Philip Graves was dating shy reader he found out that she loved to read and always got a book for her(even when he was away at work) and the way her eyes light up every time made him fall for her even more

This is SO. CUTE. 😭🤲🏼 Graves having zero self-control with his purchases and gifting you books for a crumb of your smile WHEN

Includes: tooth-rotting fluff!

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

He bought you a book, among other things during his deployment, one of his earlier ones since the two of you started dating. But had he known the novel would elicit the cutest wide eyes and the most radiant smile from you?

And a shy kiss? All in one package?!

In the words of that one video; Well, shit. He should've bought more.

He knew you were an avid reader, but he didn't think the book would matter more than the pricier homegrown jewellery he had handpicked for you, but that didn't mean you didn't appreciate all his other gifts, of course!

But there's something about the way your eyes light up upon feeling the unmistakable hardcover or paperback amongst the items in his luggage.

So, he makes it his own little 'tradition', whether he's off stationing or if he just so happens to pass by a bookstore that catches his eye. Even as husband and wife, it never stopped. If anything, he kicked it up a notch; asking the cashier to tie a flower that he had bought at a flower shop to the cover or even write cheesy one-liners on a card and slotting it in between the pages i.e. "Think of me when you read this, okay? ;)" or "Hope you won't feel as lonely when I'm away :)"

Because seeing the priceless sparkles in your eyes makes it all so fucking worth it.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[theemissuniverse]

“MY ONE AND ONLY” NOOB SAIBOT X GODDESS!READER

SUMMARY : similar to my goddess!reader intros so go read that for a little bit of context if you want. Noob is heavily devoted to you. also no plot just smut lmao

A/N : I don’t really like to write for sub-zero bi-Han. I only like writing for Noob Saibot Bi-Han. Why? I have no idea

WARNINGS : MINORS DONT INTERACT. p in v, body worship, slight dirty talk, some other stuff I probably forgot

Here’s my MASTERLIST

Bi-Han was obsessed with you. He would do anything to please his Goddess but when you asked him to please you, he was shocked. He would prove he was worthy of making you feel good though.

He had you on all fours, your ass was facing him. Bi-Han watched as your ass jiggled with each thrust and it drove him absolutely crazy. Tonight was not about him though. It was about you. About him pleasing his goddess.

Bi-Han had held on your hips tightly. He helped you as you threw your ass back on him, desperately trying to get yourself to cum.

He was even more turned on that you were selfish and you only cared about yourself. Nothing turned him on more than his goddess using him for pleasure.

Bi-Han rubbed your ass soothingly. You moaned loudly at his soft touches but wanted more of him. “Harder please.”

Bi-Han had no problem giving you what you wanted. He started to pound into you harder. You moaned with each thrust he gave you. “Yes, yes. Oh yes. Don’t stop.” You moaned out.

He was glad you came to him. He imagined you like this since he was created into the darkness that served you. All he wanted was to be used like he was your own personal sex toy.

Your ass continued to bounce on him. Bi-Han was grateful he had self control. Otherwise he would cum just by looking at your ass jiggle each time.

“Yes. Oh, Bi-Han. You make me feel so good.”

Bi-Han grunted at your words, trying to hold in his nut. You were all too beautiful for him.

“Smack my ass. Oh shit. Smack it.”

Bi-Han followed your command and smacked your ass harshly. You moaned loudly at this. He smacked it a couple more times making you more wet then you already were.

As he pounded into you, you felt him hitting your good spot. “Oh my god. Right there. Please. Right there.” Bi-Han didn’t change anything about his pace. He continued to hit your precious spot. He noticed you couldn’t concentrate on throwing your ass back onto him anymore because you were receiving too much pleasure. “I’m so close. Yes. I’m so so so close.”

Bi-Han rubbed your ass gently before giving it a good smack. “Cum on me, my goddess. You can do it. Let it all out.”

Bi-Han’s words made you cum instantly. “Yes. I’m cumming. Oh my gods. I’m cumming.” He helped you ride your orgasm out. Once you were done, he pulled out of you and turned you so you were on your back.

You laughed some feeling tired. “That was so good.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Did you cum too?”

“No. My purpose is to serve and please you. Not the other way around.” Bi-Han stated as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes slightly and pulled him on top of you. You then grabbed his dick and positioned himself along your entrance. “Well I say the only way I’m satisfied is if you cum too.” You made him enter you again and Bi-Han let out a groan. “So fuck me until you cum.”

Bi-Han did not understand why you wanted him to release too. His purpose was to serve you. Not the other way around but you gave him a direct order so he had to do it.

He started to move in and out of you slowly. You noticed that Bi-Han was quiet during sex. He wasn’t much of a talker but you were gonna make him quit that. “You have to talk and make noise too. I don’t like you holding all of it in.”

Bi-Han placed both his hands on either side of your head and started to fuck you at a good fast place. He was going to suppress his moan until he remembered what you said so he instead let it out.

“Come on. I know you’ve been thinking very impure thoughts since you met me. You can do better than that.”

Bi-Han grabbed your thighs. He forced your thighs to wrap around his waist. Then he started to fuck you hard. Very hard. You let out a gasp and threw your head back. You actually were trying to run away from him but he pinned your wrists to the bed. “Why are you running? You wanted this. I’m giving you what you want.”

“Oh! My! God! Bi-Han…”

Only you could yell out his dead name in complete and utter pleasure. Bi-Han continued to pound into you like he had no remorse. “I’ve waited too long to have you like this. And now you’re mine.” He went a bit harder. “Say it.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh yes.”

Bi-Han let go of your wrists and gripped your thighs that were wrapped against him. He felt himself start to be close. The thing was he was fucking you so good that you started to feel another orgasm come about. “Yes. I’m about to cum again. Please make me cum again.”

It was at that point, Bi-Han’s mission wasn’t to get himself to cum anymore. It was to get you to cum again. He continued to go at his same pace, not stopping. “Anything for you, my goddess.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, yes.” Your hands rubbed all over his chest. “Cum with me. Please.”

Bi-Han grunted more as he heard your request. “If I cum inside you, I mark you as mine.”

“I’m already yours. Please cum inside me.”

Bi-Han loved to hear the sound of that. He felt your pussy clench around him and knew it was it for you. “Cum for me. I’m right behind you.”

You came undone on Bi-Han’s dick while he followed in pursuit. You felt his cum soak your entire pussy. Once he was done riding your orgasms out, he pulled out of you.

He rubbed your stomach soothingly. “When will I be your consort?”

You giggled at his question. “In time, Bi-Han. In time.”

tagging : @zhivaxo , @sinclxirx , @roseflowerbed12 , @daeneeryss , @blexel