#maybe have her ask another muse on how they deal with it?

[iiguess]

HEADCANON. Sam... has a dislike for crushes, I think. Sure, it can be nice if it's just something light and sweet. But crushes aren't called 'crushes' for nothing. Crushes mean looking at someone with rose-tinted glasses, in actions that—-to her—-are meant to get closer to the object of your affections. They're overwhelming, obsessive, and tend to masquerade as 'puppy love' when it can really just be infatuation.

That's why, should she get a crush on someone? She'd stay far away from them. She has enough self-awareness and experience to know she wouldn't be looking at someone clearly with her own feelings in the way nor would she be acting like she'd normally would like with others, and would probably wait them out before interacting with them again.

( Granted, it's a much different story should her chemistry with someone be more natural, if that makes any sense? Think Hanako and Nene from Toilet-bound Hanako-kun versus Nene and her crushes. )

[rafecameronssl4t]

i remember at the start of the forced marriage that reader was smoking, so i wanted to ask, did she stop when her and rafe got married, or was it more like her still smoking, and/or hiding it from him and him finding out?

Cigarette daydreams || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Reader does end up quitting bc she’s expected to have children but I imagine Rafe to not be very expressive with his opinions about her smoking because he knows that it soothes her and understands that it’s what she needs in the moment.

Warnings: smoking, if there’s anything else, lmk!!

Word count: 1,882

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“So, how was it?” Aspyn, your long time friend, smiled warmly over the rim of her tea cup. The two of you sat outside in the garden of your coastal estate, the morning sun casting a gentle glow over the manicured lawns and flowering shrubs. You shrugged, adjusting yourself in the plush sofa, your gaze moving to the greenery of the garden.

“The meetings were tedious, honestly. And it was freezing,” you sighed, bringing the cigarette delicately cradled between your manicured fingers to your lips. You took a slow drag, letting the smoke curl from your lips, the familiar burn of the tobacco calming your nerves. “But Moscow itself? It’s beautiful,” you added, flicking the ash into the ashtray on the table next to your untouched breakfast without a second thought.

Aspyn hummed thoughtfully, the sunlight catching the highlights in her hair as she leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting over the garden. “I wish my husband would take me along on his business trips. He’s always so focused on his work,” she mused, her tone tinged with a soft sadness. She had married out of love, something you had never had the luxury to do.

You chuckled, a low sound that held little humour, taking another inhale and allowing the smoke to fill your lungs, the habit one of the few things that still brought you a sense of control. “That’s the difference between us, Aspyn,” you said, exhaling slowly. “You married for love. I didn’t.” You murmured, the smoke trailing from your lips like a sigh.

“Rafe doesn’t exactly ‘take’ me with him. I’m expected to go, whether I want to or not.” You remembered how your mother had insisted on this trip with Rafe—something about appearances and how a proper wife should always stand by her husband’s side. Even when you barely spoke to each other during the flights or shared nothing more than empty pleasantries in front of his business associates, you were there.

Always there, whether you liked it or not. It was part of the deal, after all. Aspyn’s smile faltered for a moment as she stirred her tea, the envy she tried to hide flickering across her face. Her marriage was built on love and warmth, but the wealth and status you held, the trips to exotic locations, the endless luxury—it was something she quietly envied, even if she knew your marriage was far from perfect.

“I just… I don’t know. It would be nice to see the world with him,” she admitted softly, casting a glance at the table spread before you—plates of pastries, fresh fruit, and coffee, all arranged meticulously by the house staff. You leaned back in your chair, eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the sky met the sea. “Be careful what you wish for,” you murmured, a bitter edge creeping into your voice.

You took another long drag, feeling the familiar burn in your throat as you looked out the window at the passing cars, your thoughts already drifting back to the strained silence that would greet you when you returned home. Lucky? Maybe from the outside. But inside, you weren’t sure if luck had anything to do with it anymore. The life you led was a gilded cage, beautiful from the outside but hollow within.

A comfortable silence settled between you and Aspyn as the morning sun bathed the garden in a soft, warm light. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the peaceful atmosphere, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, mixing with the faint scent of your cigarette. It was these quiet moments with Aspyn that you cherished, where the complexities of your life could fade, if only for a short while.

Aspyn finally spoke up, her voice cheerful, easily cutting through the stillness without shattering it. That was what you liked most about her—how she could shift the conversation so seamlessly, never making things awkward. It was comforting, like a reprieve from the complexities of your own life.

“Did you hear about the new boutique opening soon?” Aspyn’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she reached for a delicate slice of fruit. You turned your head to her, taking a slow drag from your cigarette before exhaling, the smoke lazily drifting upwards. “No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly, the embers glowing at the tip of your cigarette.

“Oh my god, we have to go! There are only five stores like this around the world—one in Paris, London—” She cut herself off mid-sentence, her gaze suddenly shifting past you, her excitement dimming into something more cautious. You frowned, leaning over slightly to flick the ash from your cigarette into the nearby tray. “What is it?” you asked, a bit confused by her change in demeanour. Then her words came, slower now. “Were you… expecting Rafe?”

Your head snapped around, your heart giving a slight jolt as you saw him approaching across the garden. He moved with a quiet intensity, his sharp features unreadable as the morning sun cast shadows across his face. His sharp eyes were trained on you, and the sight made your pulse quicken—out of habit more than fear.

“Shit!” you cursed under your breath, immediately stubbing out your cigarette and blowing the smoke away as discreetly as possible, hurriedly waving your hand in front of you to disperse the lingering smoke. It was a futile attempt to mask the scent, though, and you knew he had already seen. Rafe’s sharp eyes were already fixed on you, his expression unchanging as he walked closer.

Aspyn shifted awkwardly in her seat, “He doesn’t know you still smoke?” She questions as you snap your eyes to her, “Kinda, I haven’t in front of him for awhile and so he probably thought I quit,” You quickly say before focusing you attention on Rafe. His approach measured and deliberate. He wasn’t angry—you could tell that much from his calm stride—but that didn’t mean you were free from the quiet judgment he often wielded so easily.

You’d seen that look before, the one that said he didn’t have to say a word for you to understand. “Enjoying the morning?” His voice was smooth, casual, as he finally reached the table. When his eyes flickered down to the cigarette, then back to your face, it made your stomach twist. You forced a smile, trying to maintain the illusion of calm.

“Just catching up with Aspyn,” you replied, a slight edge creeping into your voice despite your best efforts to keep it light. You desperately hoped the tension in your tone would go unnoticed, though you knew better with Rafe. His gaze briefly flickered to Aspyn, offering her a polite nod in acknowledgement before settling back on you.

“Hope you’re not overdoing it,” he said quietly, his words casual on the surface, but laced with a subtle undercurrent only you could catch. It wasn’t a direct reprimand—it rarely was with him—but the way his eyes lingered on the cigarette and then on you made your stomach tighten. The familiar look of disapproval, though not overtly harsh, always made you feel small.

You swallowed the frustration rising in your throat, the taste of tobacco still bitter on your tongue. “I’m fine,” you said, your words clipped. You pushed the ashtray away, trying to shift the focus from the cigarette to something more neutral. His gaze lingered a moment longer, the silence thick with unspoken thoughts.

It was never loud or confrontational with Rafe. He understood that the cigarettes brought you a sense of control and calm, even though he was against them, particularly now when your body needed to be in its best shape for carrying a child. His silent judgment was often more oppressive than any spoken criticism could be.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, resisting the urge to light another cigarette just out of defiance. The habit had always been a small rebellion against the constraints of your life, but under Rafe’s watchful gaze, it felt like something you needed to hide.

Beside you, Aspyn sat quietly, her usual chatter replaced with a careful silence. You could feel her curiosity, the way her eyes darted between you and Rafe, though she made no effort to involve herself. She knew when the tension between you and Rafe hung too thick to cut through, and now was one of those times.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, resisting the urge to light another cigarette just out of defiance. The habit had always been one of your escapes, a quiet rebellion against the constraints of your life. But here, under Rafe’s watchful gaze, it felt more like something to be ashamed of. You had always hated that—the way he could make something that once brought you comfort feel like another thing you had to hide.

Rafe stood there, his hands tucked in his pants as he studied you, your eyes fixated on the table. “I hope you’re ready,” he said, his voice cool and measured. You blinked, confused as you looked up at him. “Ready for what?” Rafe’s gaze flickered to your untouched breakfast on your plate, and you could feel the silent judgment in his eyes, though he didn’t linger on it. “We have another trip tomorrow. New York this time.”

Your heart dropped. “Tomorrow?” You stared at him in disbelief, shaking your head. “But we just got back from Russia,” you protested, frustration creeping into your tone. Rafe shrugged, his expression indifferent. “Business doesn’t wait.” You glanced at Aspyn, whose eyes widened slightly. She stayed quiet, clearly sensing the growing tension.

You returned your focus to Rafe, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling inside you. “I haven’t even unpacked from the last trip,” you muttered, but you knew it wouldn’t change anything. He was already mentally packed and ready to go, as always. “Then you’ll need to get started,” he said simply, his voice clipped, before turning to head back inside without further explanation.

You sat there, stunned for a moment, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. It was always the same—your life dictated by his business, your time revolving around his schedule, and any attempt to protest met with cool indifference. Aspyn shifted beside you, clearing her throat delicately. “I guess New York is next, huh?” she said softly, her earlier excitement now dampened.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you regretfully glanced at the cigarette you’d just stubbed out. “Yeah. I guess it is.” Aspyn shifted beside you, her voice hesitant. “He doesn’t like you smoking, does he?” You let out a humourless laugh, shaking your head. “No, he doesn’t. But that’s never stopped me before,” you said, though the bravado in your words felt hollow.

You could still feel the weight of Rafe’s judgment, the way his disapproval lingered even after he was gone. It wasn’t just about the cigarettes—it was about control, about the way every little decision you made somehow felt tied to him. Aspyn gave you a sympathetic look, her gaze softening. “Well, it’s not like he’s perfect either,” she offered, trying to bring some levity to the conversation, though the heaviness remained.

You smiled faintly, but your thoughts were still with Rafe and the quiet, unspoken expectations that always seemed to hang over you. Even in the smallest things, like the habit of lighting a cigarette, there was always something more. Always something unspoken between you and him.

[d-targaryenshoe]

Books And Looks - Luke Thompson

Word Count: 1006

Summary: Some say even well-known actors can have a crush on authors, can they not?

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city as the cast of Bridgerton wrapped up another long day of filming for season four.

Jonathan, Claudia, and Luke Thompson found themselves at their favorite pub, unwinding with drinks in hand.

“To another successful day!” Jonathan cheered, raising his glass.

“To another successful day!” echoed Claudia and Luke, clinking their glasses together.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the camaraderie of their shared experiences providing a soothing backdrop to the evening.

After a few sips, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“It’s going to be strange going back to normal life after this,” he mused. “I’ve gotten so used to the hustle and bustle of the set.”

Claudia nodded. “I know what you mean. There’s something about the energy here that’s hard to replicate in the real world. But I am looking forward to seeing my sister again.”

“You have a sister?” Luke asked, intrigued.

They’d spent so much time together on set, yet there were still many things they didn’t know about each other’s personal lives.

Claudia smiled warmly. “Yes, she’s a few years older than me. We’re very close, even though she’s quite the introvert.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “An introvert? Doesn’t sound like anyone in your family.”

Claudia laughed. “You’d be surprised. She’s a famous author, but she avoids the spotlight as much as possible. Her books have a huge following.”

Luke’s ears perked up at this revelation. “A famous author? What’s her name?”

Claudia hesitated for a moment, then said, “Y/n Jessie Peyton.”

Luke’s eyes widened, nearly spilling his drink in his excitement. “No. Are you serious? She’s one of my favorite authors in the world! I’ve read all her books at least twice.”

Jonathan chuckled at Luke’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Looks like you’ve got a superfan on your hands, Claudia.”

Claudia shook her head, laughing. “Luke, she’s very private. She doesn’t like the spotlight, and she doesn’t do meet-and-greets.”

Luke’s expression turned pleading. “Please, Claudia, you have to introduce me. I promise I won’t make a scene. I just want to tell her how much her work means to me.”

Claudia sighed, seeing the sincerity in Luke’s eyes. “I can’t make any promises, Luke, but I’ll talk to her. We’ll see what happens.”

Over the next few weeks, Luke didn’t let up.

He would bring your name up in conversation whenever he could, his admiration for your work shining through.

Claudia found it endearing but was also protective of your privacy.

One evening, after another long day of filming, Claudia received a call from you.

You chatted about your lives, and inevitably, Luke’s name came up.

“Luke Thompson?” you repeated, surprised. “The actor?”

“Yes, the very same,” Claudia replied. “He’s a huge fan of your work, y/n. He’s been pestering me non-stop to introduce you two.”

You laughed softly. “Well, that’s flattering. I didn’t realize my books had such an impact on people. Maybe… maybe we could arrange something. A small, casual meeting. No big deal.”

Claudia smiled. “I think that would make his year, y/n. Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll set it up.”

A few days later, Claudia walked onto the set in full 'Eloise' with a secretive smile.

She had arranged for you to visit, and she couldn’t wait to see Luke’s reaction.

As they broke for lunch, Claudia spotted Luke and Jonathan chatting by the catering table.

“Hey, guys,” she said, trying to keep her excitement in check. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

Before Claudia could answer, you walked onto the set, looking slightly out of place but wearing a warm smile. Luke’s jaw dropped as he recognized her.

“No way,” he whispered, his eyes wide. “Is that…?”

Claudia grinned. “Luke, Jonathan, this is my sister.”

You stepped forward, extending your hand. “Hi, Luke. Claudia’s told me a lot about you.”

Luke shook your hand, trying to keep his composure. “It’s such an honor to meet you. Your books have had such a profound impact on me. Thank you for your incredible work.”

You blushed slightly, clearly not used to such direct praise. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.”

Jonathan, sensing the significance of the moment, clapped Luke on the back. “See, dreams do come true, mate.”

You all laughed, the initial tension easing into a more comfortable atmosphere.

You spent the rest of their lunch break chatting about your books, the writing process, and life on set.

Luke found himself captivated not just by your words but by your presence.

There was a quiet strength to you that drew him in, and he could tell you felt a connection too.

As the days passed, your visits to the set became more frequent. You and Luke would steal moments to talk, sharing stories and laughter.

It was clear to everyone around you that there was something special brewing between you two.

One evening, after a particularly long day of filming, Luke and you found yourselves alone on set.

The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything.

You sat on a bench, enjoying the peaceful silence.

“You know,” Luke began, “I never imagined I’d get to meet you, let alone spend so much time with you. It feels like a dream.”

You smiled, your eyes reflecting the fading light. “Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn’t it? I never thought I’d enjoy being on a set, but here I am.”

Luke took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’d love to get to know you better, outside of all this.”

You looked at him, your expression softening. “I feel the same way. I’d like that very much.”

You shared a smile, the unspoken promise of something more hanging in the air.

As the first stars appeared in the night sky, Luke reached for your hand, and you didn’t pull away.

[missmarveledsblog]

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions  which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer . 

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting  history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes .  Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop. 

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he  spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't  I go on the supply run ,  why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly . 

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly  wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) .  " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after  that stupid ghost hunting  website and chuck " she grumbled  wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled. 

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation  " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms. 

" destiel  is another popular one " sam chuckled. 

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history. 

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her  and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.  

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

"  their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." . 

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer  " she  groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless . 

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid  kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

[raayllum]

a/n: set after 6x06 and heavily references 6x03 bc they were blessings

Sometime after they stop kissing — alright, they don't really stop, but languid silences, soft giggling, and sweet nothings fill some of the space in between kisses as they curl up together on his bed in the Starscraper — Callum asks, "So, what were you crying about on the Ray of Illumination?"

The sun is rising above the sea of clouds outside their bedroom window, and for a moment he regrets bringing up anything potentially sad, both of them happier than they've been in years, honestly. They have everything they need for her parents, his connection to Aaravos has been severed, the light and truth of her love filling the cracks in his heart, instead, and finally, finally she knows that his heart has always belonged to her. That it always will.

But he's always been curious, and he's always wanted to sooth whatever's troubling her, fix whatever is breaking her heart, and she'd had a good deal to cry over just a couple weeks ago — maybe even something from the last two years apart — and... he wants to know. He wants to help.

And, slowly, he thinks she's getting to a place where she wants him to be able to, where she'll let him.

"Oh, um..." Rayla averts her eyes, fingers tangled with his, but her smile doesn't dim. She sticks her tongue in her cheek. "It's a bit silly, really."

"Still." He uses his free hand to brush his thumb over the curve of her cheek, the blue bend of her marking, where he knows the tears would've fallen.

"Just an old diary written by the captain. Esme something. Stella pushed it open." Rayla scoots a bit closer and Callum lets go of her hand to wrap his arm around her, more than happy to give into her desire to be held; he never feels more at peace than when he's holding her, now more than ever.

The bump of the tip of his nose against hers as a gentle prod. "And?"

Rayla turns her face down, his lips brushing her brow, but he can still tell she's worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. He wants to angle his face down and kiss that worry away, draw her lips to his, but refrains. They have plenty of time, after all. To kiss, and rest, and prepare for their journey. It's close to dawn now, and Callum knows they won't leave till the day after tomorrow at least — they need supplies for the journey to the Nexus, recover from their trials, and to say goodbye to their new friends here.

Finally, Rayla explains, "She was writing during the last days of her life, on that ship I guess. About a man she left behind. Her one true love, Conrad."

"Oh." Callum pulls her further into a hug on instinct, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Just... resonated with me," she nearly sniffles, laughing weakly, but her smile is real and reaches her eyes when he glances down to check. "I'm sure you can imagine why."

"Lots of stuff about what she would've said if she saw him again?"

"Mmhm."

"Think I can relate to that too," he hums, giving her forehead another kiss. "I love you, Rayla," he repeats for what might be the millionth time that day, but he already knows he can never say it enough. He's always known that. "I'm so glad you came back."

She wraps her arms tighter around his torso, cuddling in closer, tension ebbing out of her and face half pressed to his scarf. "I'm so happy you're here, Callum," she sighs warmly.

"Always." He strokes her hair, wondering if she'll fall asleep like this—it always got her a little drowsy in the past—or if she'll let him weave her braid for her one of these days, musing, and then... "The Captain's name wasn't Esmerelda Skall, was it?"

Rayla lifts her head, brow furrowed adorably. "Er, yeah, it was. Why? How do you know that?"

"She was a famous explorer in the Human Kingdoms. Charted out a lot of our maps up north. My Dad—King Harrow—took me on a diplomatic mission once to Del Bar, where she's from, when I was eleven or twelve." There's a warm, content feeling blooming in his chest that he'll get to give her closure on this, too, somehow. "Conrad founded a town near the capitol and served as mayor. He named it after her. He loved her all his life—put a grave marker for her next to his when he died and everything."

Rayla's "Oh" comes out choked and small, but her smile is wide as she blinks back tears. "That's—that's beautiful. I guess he really—"

"—loved her?" Callum finishes, curling two fingers under her chin to lift her face for a moment. Then he brushes away the real tears trickling over, drawing her further into his snug embrace. Her breath is beautifully warm as it fans over his lips before he kisses her, soft and firm. "Yes. I really do."

[citruswriter]

Hey so how do you think bayverse leo would deal with having a s/o where they tend to get asked out by human’s a lot and s/o says no confidently every time and usually the human’s leave s/o alone nicely. Also flip side whenever s/o is talking about Leo casually, s/o is like gushing over how awesome their boyfriend is. And also how They don’t really meet any human men who act like him. His personality is extremely rare. S/o has a type and it’s not common. Maybe their standards are too high but they got lucky to find Leo?

High Standards

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

Listen in with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: They/them pronouns, fluff, not proofread.

A/N: Ur literally so real for this. I think Leo definitely has a more rare personality.

"Dammit I forgot my lunch..." Your coworker muttered as she dug through her bag. Looking over you offered up one of your sandwiches. "You can have my other sand which if you want. Leo made them for me." You said and your coworker gave you a look of gratitude before grabbing the sandwhich and digging in. "Holy shit. This is actually so good, what the fuck?" She said, looking up at you and you giggled, sipping your drink. "Oh yeah. Leo's a wonderful chef. He's always trying new recipes with Mikey. It's super cute. His food is always so good, I can never get enough of it". You beamed, taking another bite. "You always talk about that man, swear to god. You two need to get married already". She said with a roll of her eyes but she smiled none the less. You giggled again, face heating up. "Oh please, trust me. I'd marry that man in a heartbeat if he asked me. He's definitely one of a kind. I don't meet many other individuals with his personality." You said casually, finishing your lunch and shrugging your shoulders. "I know. You constantly turn down anybody pining after you. Your standards are so damn high". She muttered.

"Well I deserve nothing but the best and Leo does exactly that. I'm so lucky to have him". You cooed with a lovesick smile. The door rang as a customer walked in. "Hello! What can I get for you today?". You asked before taking the man's order. He rattled off the ingredients for his coffee and you cashed him out as your coworker began to make it. "Say uh, whats your name?" He asked and you looked up. "(Y/N). Why?" You asked, tone suspicious. "Just wanted to know the name of the individual I was gonna take to dinner tonight." He said with a wink. You couldn't help but laugh, mouth behind your face. "Oh you're cute. No". You said gently but firmly. The man blinked at you, surprised. "Why not?" He asked and you grinned. "I'm taken by a wonderful young man". You said, giggling as you fiddled with the necklace that always hung around your neck, a golden chain with a brilliant blue sapphire. "Bet I could treat you better..." The man purred, leaning in.

"Highly doubt you could," your coworkers voice came as she slammed the hot coffee in front of the man, startling him. "They got standards so high you'd need professional climbing gear to scale them". She said, looking at you with a grin and the two of you giggled. The man rolled his eyes in anger before snatching his coffee up and sulking off and out of the store. "Seriously babes, I know you said Leo was a rather private man but I've got to meet this dude one day". She said with a quirked eyebrow and you hummed. "I'll talk to him about it."

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

You were greeted with a chorus of noises as you entered the lair. Mikey had taken Raph's sai and was now being chased while Donnie attempted to scold them. April and Master Splinter were quietly speaking over tea and Leo... Wait where's Leo? You thought. You glanced around for him before creeping to his room. "Baby?" You said softly before opening the door. You slunk inside, closing the door behind you. Leo was on his bed, book in hand and under a blanket. "Seems like your brothers are at it again". You mused, smiling softly as you approached him. "They always are." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him, head resting on your stomach. "Got your coffee," you murmured and Leo eyes the cup before gently grabbing it and happily taking a sip. "Good as always, blossom". He muttered before dragging you down into bed with him, you kicking your shoes off as he did.

"My coworker wants to meet you". You said and you chuckled when he groaned. "This is the eighth time she's asked". He grumbled, burying his snout into your neck. You laughed and kissed his head. "Yeah she had to come to my rescue after some guy asked for my number, teasing my high standards." You said, nails drawing patterns on his shell. Leo sighed and looked back up at you. "Do you ever wish I was human?" He asked suddenly and you raised your eyebrows in surprise and curiosity. "Not really. I don't really care if you're a mutant or a human". You answered and Leo grumbled, setting his coffee down before burrowing himself into you. "Why do you wish to know, beloved?" You asked, gently picking at the knot in his mask to pull it off. He let you, relaxing into your touch as you rubbed his neck and shoulders. "I don't know... So many humans seem to fawn over you. Sometimes I wonder what you see in me". He confessed.

"Leonardo I fell in love with you because you treat me well. Because you're kind-hearted and a gentleman. Because you love with your whole heart and do your best to protect those you love". You said, thumb brushing against his cheek bones. "Leonardo you're everything I want and more." Leo placed his hands down to lift himself, hovering over you and staring into your eyes. "I love you so much," he whispered before kissing you gently. You hummed and kissed him back, hand moving to cup his face. "I love you too, darling".

A crash was heard from the living room along with the sounds of Raph's shouting and Mikey's feral giggle. "You should probably go deal with them." You mused, Leo groaning as he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed. "You're probably right." He replied and you drug yourself up to go follow him. You couldn't help but watch in amusement as Leo mothered his younger siblings. At some point Leo came back, grumbling about how they were such children. "You'd make a good dad, you know". You murmured, splaying your hands on his plastron. Leo looked at you in shock and you looked away, flustered but Leo just grabbed your face and kissed you. "I think you'd be a good parent too". He said softly and the two of you just stood there looking at each other with utter adoration.

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

[buckrecs]

hello !! i would like to request a friends to lovers trope bucky fics recommendations if you could ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

Friends to Lovers

masterlist | req masterlist

friends to lovers is one of my absolute favorite tropes🥺

* = contains smut

ONESHOT

The Key Jangle by @delaber

Sick and tired of your many recent bad dates, you’re dreading yet another Valentine’s Day alone. When Bucky offers to show you what a night out is supposed to look like according to him, you get to experience what it’s like to date your best friend.

A Date by @delaber

you have a date and Bucky’s not exactly happy about it.

you by @lovelybarnes

best friends to lovers

Drunk in Love by @bethdutten

you get a little drunk at one of tony’s celebratory after-mission parties. and bucky is there looking so fine and-- fuck it. you can’t keep your hands off him.

*Three Hundred by @adrinktostopyourthirst

Bucky always makes sure his best friend is okay, because that is what you need. He's caring, but very passive and nonchalant, because you need it. Not him. He doesn't need that. He doesn't need you. Does he?

Obvious by @babyboibucky

You and Bucky are more than friends but less than lovers.

until his last breath by @witchywithwhiskey

when your best friend finds you destroying all the stuffed animals your cheater boyfriend gave you, he comforts you and buys you a new one.

Aching by @bbyboybucket

After Reader gives Bucky a massage, he realizes how much he likes her touch. // Or a friends to lovers story.

cookies, kisses, and stuff by @stevebabey

Something had... shifted. Yet somehow, nothing had changed. You can’t put your finger on it, but sometime between then and now, there’s a difference. Well, that much was obvious — a lot of things had changed since Bucky and you became friends.

*long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky

Bucky asks you to come over, just to hang out.

one bed, two buddies by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You’re out on a mission with Bucky and Sam. Everything operates as usual until the room you’re sharing with Bucky only has one bed for the two of you. You try not to make a big deal of it, but that’s a little difficult when you both have some unresolved feelings for the other.

*Need To Know by @kikixreverie

When your best friend starts acting strange and you're left confused about his feelings, Natasha manages to convince you to try to make him jealous, what could go wrong?

To Let You Win by @delaber

a sparring match between you and your best friend turns into something you’ve both been keeping under the surface when he refuses to let you lose the game

delicate by @mediocre-daydreams

to soften his reputation, natasha suggests that bucky find a plus one to tony's party. chaos ensues.

Can I Kiss You? by @lanadelreyscokewhor3

you have a crush on bucky, and he has one on you. who cares if youre best friends. best friends kiss ALL the time.. right?

11:59 pm, December 31 by @lunarbuck

You've been in love with your best friend Bucky Barnes since fourth grade, but to him, you're just his best friend. It's New Year's Eve, maybe tonight will be different.

a million summers by @intrepidacious

Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

voldka on the rocks by @kinanabinks

when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.

Be My Muse by @themorningsunshine

Muse - A person or spirit that gives an artist the desire to create things

*it’s just a kiss by @witchywithwhiskey

your best friend bucky barnes decides he wants to see what it'd be like if you two kissed.

long awaited by @muchadoaboutbucky

*drunk off you by @cunaeparker

asgardian liquor comes in clutch, sam’s a cockblock, and tony’s parties have a tendency to get spicy

Buttercup by @buckyalpine

A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting

As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

dear… whoever by @kashimos-hajime

a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

the trials and tribulations of getting Bucky Barnes a second date by @buckyarchives

Bucky hasn’t kissed someone since the 40s and he needs a little… practice.

SERIES

*The Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

It’s All Fun and Games by @yikeswtfmate

A glimpse into Bucky and Y/N’s relationship, where they’re not together, but every single one of their friends would beg to differ. 

*Ease My Mind by @buckyskorpion

Bucky Barnes is your best friend and, of course, you’re in love with him. But apparently Bucky is just fine with your platonic relationship - you’re going to have to do something about that.

Here Comes The…Ex? by @ghostofskywalker

Three years after you broke up, you received the one piece of mail that no girl ever wanted to receive from her ex: a wedding invitation. You weren’t even going to go, but all that changed when his best friend came barging back into your life and insisted that you accompany him to the event. 

Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.  

*vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs

shit’s been rough. shit was rough even before the blip. dr. hart shares an office with dr. raynor, and you share with waiting room with bucky barnes.

Make the Wave by @lostgirlmuseum

You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention. 

.

d

[angelzdaydream]

he's obsessed with you | Marcus Baker

plot: Marcus and reader have been in a secret relationship and they have been hiding it well from Max, but when she finds out she laughs because she knew he was obsessed with you.

requested by: @xtom-darling-x17

warnings: slight smut but no details

Marcus sneaking through your window at night had become a habit for the past few months, but on this particular night you decided you'd be the one doing the sneaking.

You took extra caution to be quiet not wanting to draw attention to yourself as you shimmied your way up the house and into the Baker household. As much as you didn't want his parents catching you, the thought of his sister Max who just so happened to be your best friend was much worse.

You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend sleeping soundly in his bed, his sketchbook sprawled against his chest and he pencil he was still in his hand.

You walk over to him, carefully grabbing the pencil out of his hand and the sketchbook to put it away. You go to close the sketchbook but before you could the drawling he was working on catches your eye. Your heart begins to flutter when you realize it was of you.

Marcus stirring in his sleep snatches your attention away from the drawling and you close the sketchbook before placing it on his nightstand.

"This is different. Normally I'm the one doing the breaking and entering." Marcus's voice startles you a bit.

"Figured you shouldn't be the only criminal in the relationship." you grin before leaning down with the intentions of kissing him gently, but the moment your lips touch, he's pulls you on top of him making you gasp at the sudden motion. Marcus uses this to his advantage as he slides his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The moment you pull away for a breath of air, Marcus's lips are against your neck sucking and pressing needy kisses against your skin. "You drew me." You moan shakily.

"I did." Marcus replies before sucking on the sweet spot on your neck making your eyes roll back. "How about you be my muse again and give me something else to draw of you?"

"Please." you beg, already so needy for him and before you know it, Marcus is detaching himself from your neck and flipping the two of you around so he's on top.

His lips crash against yours as he grinds his hips against yours, causing the both of you to moan. Both of you were too consumed by each other that you both failed to hear his door open.

"Mom wants to know what you want for dinner- y/n? Holy shit! Holy fucking shit, my eyes!" Max screeched before slamming his door closed and running off.

All you can do at first is look at Marcus in horror. "Shit! How mad do you think she is?"

"She didn't try to kill me so maybe not as mad as we expected her to be." Marcus replies sitting up off of you.

"I'm going to go talk to her." you stand up off his bed fixing your hair and clothes.

"You want me to come with?" he asks reaching for your hand and kissing it reassuringly.

You shake your head no. "I think I should go alone in case she's super pissed. You being there might make it worse."

He nods his head in understanding before you make your way to Maxines room.

You knock on her door, and it doesn't take long before she tells you to come in. You quickly do, shutting the door behind you but never moving from in front of it. You look up at Maxine who is already looking at you. The two of you go a moment without speaking when all of a sudden Max burst into a fit of laughter.

You stare at her wide eyed, unsure if she was so pissed it was coming out as laughter or if it was for another reason. You really hoped she wouldn't make such a big deal out of it, you loved and cared about both Marcus and Max in different ways and you never wanted to hurt either of them.

It goes on for a few minutes before her laughter finally dies down. "I'm not mad." Max speaks after catching her breath.

"You're not?" you question, gaining the courage to move away from the door to sit next to her on the bed.

"I mean it hurts a little that you didn't tell me, but I figured something was going on between the two of you and that you'd tell me when you were ready. I've seen the way you two make googly eyes at each other and honestly, I've never seen him as happy as he is with you. He cares about you a lot, it's disgusting really. Not as disgusting as what I just seen though." Max scrunches her nose up in disgust.

You giggle. "Sorry about that."

"As you should be, I'm scarred for life." she says before giggling too and pulling you into a side hug.

A weight feels like it had been lifted off your shoulders now that you and Marcus no longer had to hide your relationship from her and that Marcus cared as much about you as you did him.

-

idk about the ending but hope you guys liked it <3 feel free to send me request!

[fitgirlfemdom]

Brendan and Nikki had a... tumultuous relationship, to put it lightly. They'd only been dating for a few months, but Nikki knew something had to change.

This fic contains: mind break, transformation, weight gain, aging, masturbation addiction, slobbification, and mentions of cuckoldry.

There were a number of grievances Nikki had, and honestly it was her own fault for getting with someone like Brendan. They were college sweethearts, and although Brendan was one of the hottest guys in his fraternity, he was a complete douchebag, and a rich one at that. Nikki's friends all egged her on to ask him out, mainly for his money, but his personality was so rancid, she could barely stand the guy for more than a few minutes. After a night of drinking and partying, however, they fucked, and Brendan was... To call him amazing wouldn't do it justice. Brendan's cock was otherworldly, and Nikki knew it. It'd be foolish to pass up on a rich guy with a big cock, so maybe she could put up with his asshole attitude.

That attitude came with a lot of baggage. They moved in together after graduation, and it was immediately apparent that Brendan couldn't stay monogamous. He was a serial cheater, because, in his own words, he just couldn't keep the ladies away. He always smelled like some other girl's perfume. He would always comment on Nikki's appearance, her weight, her job--Anything that wasn't up to his high standard. Nikki wasn't even heavy, but Brendan liked a skinny girl with a fat ass, not an average girl with a pretty face. He'd remind her the only reason he was still with her was because he "liked coming home to someone," which always hurt more than it should've.

She knew Brendan was attractive, with his broad shoulders, low body fat, incredible physique, charming face, well-kempt hair, and, well, his massive dick. He'd somehow manage to flirt with another girl everywhere they went. Brendan was her first boyfriend, though, and it was hard to leave someone like that behind.

Besides the promiscuity, Brendan was every girl’s dream. He was the top of his class—an astounding feat for the most popular frat boy and captain of the D1 football team. He was cocky, but he had the right to be. He made great money and was respected by everyone at work. It would be a shame if they knew what he was like behind closed doors, when he’d shout and scream at her if the kitchen wasn’t spotless, if the TV was too loud, if her shirt was too revealing. It hurt, but Nikki thought it’d hurt more to leave.

One of the nights when Brendan was out hooking up at a bar, Nikki was scrolling through Google searches, looking up how to deal with a cheating boyfriend. She couldn't confront him--It'd just be a screaming match, and they lived together. She needed something different, something obtuse. Something that he wouldn't see coming. That's when she found a page dedicated to "spells," and although she was four glasses of wine deep, trying to cast one seemed like a good idea.

Brendan woke up the next morning with a heavy weight on his chest. He sat up groggily, thinking maybe Nikki was laying across him, but she was nowhere to be found. He felt like shit, so he was probably hungover from the previous night of drinking and fucking. He smiled to himself as he rolled out of bed--Just another night for him, he mused. He was so hungover, everything was even blurry still! Must've been a good night.

It wasn't until he got to the bathroom mirror when his stomach flipped, his heart sank, and he had to do a double-take at his reflection.

The first thing he noticed was his silhouette. Everything was still so blurry, so blurry it couldn't have possibly been dizziness from alcohol. Nikki didn't wear glasses, but for some reason, there was a thick pair on the corner of the sink. He didn't know what compelled him to put them on his face.

Once he did, he stared down at his hands. Fat, bloated, and lacking any sort of definition at all. When he glanced up at the mirror, he realized all of him had suddenly become that way.

His hair, once messy yet stylish and full, was receding and thin. He was balding something field in the middle, with the back grown out like some sort of basement dweller. His charming stubble was grown into a complete neckbeard, dripping down his thick, swollen neck. He could feel palpable oil dripping from his pores. His eyes were big behind his glasses, his nose piggish, and his mouth agape in shock. It only got worse as he gazed lower.

His favorite day at the gym was chest day, but you could never guess by looking at him now. His defined pecs had melted into fat tits, drooping down the sides of his torso like a landslide. His gut was full and round, sloping down the front like an apron. He only had sweatpants on, but a part of him knew that if he was naked, he still wouldn't be able to see his cock.

His cock. What else could've changed? He quickly attempted to tug down his sweatpants, which hugged his massive thighs so tightly they nearly tore at the seams. He caught a glimpse of the 5XL tag on the back and felt his stomach flip. Even with his pants lowered, he couldn't see his dick, so reluctantly, he held up his stomach, only to see what he was afraid of.

Two inches. Maybe three inches if he angled it right, with swollen balls beneath. He couldn't believe it. This had to be some fucked-up dream from the deepest corners of his conscience.

It wasn't just his dick that shrank. He felt like everything else in the world had gotten bigger, taller--He couldn't have been taller than 5'2. This was made evident when he saw Nikki enter the bathroom in his peripheral.

Nikki had always been a taller girl, maybe a few inches shorter than Brendan. The old Brendan. Not the Brendan he was at that moment. In this weird, disturbing form, she was about eight inches taller than him. He was eye-level to her breasts, and that's when he noticed one of the worst revelations of the morning.

He was immediately hard. Not semi-chubbed, but full-mast. If he had to be honest with himself, seeing the outline of her perky nipples underneath her bra might've made him leak.

"Good morning, baby," she cooed, coming up behind him to give his tits a squeeze. He suddenly felt very vulnerable and so, so sensitive. "Did my little pig have a good night's sleep?"

Why would she call him that? Pig? The real Brendan would've bitch-slapped her for making such a comment. In fact, he had the perfect insult on the tip of his tongue, but all that came out was a hushed, "Yes, Mommy."

Whoa. That was weird. That was really fucking weird. What was weirder was that this tall, thin, gorgeous woman was playing with his nipples, and his leaking never stopped. He almost felt his knees buckling.

That's when he felt her hand graze along the side of his cock, pumping the little nub one or two times--just before he shot a load into the sink's cabinet with a sharp "nngh." She giggled at the sight, but Brendan was absolutely horrified.

"Aw, baby, you're getting so fast," she mewled, moving her hand back. "I guess your training's really working. You came in only a few seconds. That's so cute."

Training? He was out of breath. "T-Thank you..."

"Listen," she said, moving her hands back to his tits as she gently massaged them. "I have an important meeting later at work. You don't... have a job, so you're gonna try cleaning the kitchen for me, okay, baby?" She planted a kiss on the side of his head. "Then you can go back to watching your anime, or playing your little gacha games, or whatever you do. Does that sound good?"

She was talking to him like he was a goddamn child. It infuriated him. Who did this bitch think she was? And what the hell was anime? Gacha? Was that even English? He almost turned around and slapped her right in her stupid face, but he could feel himself cumming from his tits getting touched. "Y-Yes..." That was that, then.

"And remember our agreement--You need to finish at least five times before I come home, and I need photographic evidence." She placed a kiss on the back of his oily, sweaty neck. "If it gets too hard for you, baby, my Hitachi is in my room. Just rubber-band it to your cock like I showed you."

Her room? They always shared a room. Sometimes Brendan would kick her out if he wanted to sneak a girl over, but never had they slept alone in two separate rooms. And why did the mention of the word Hitachi make his little cock twitch? And why was it little?! He had so many questions, and to say he felt like he was going insane would be an understatement. It had to be the weirdest wet dream of all time. It had to be.

So much had changed. The little studio apartment they shared was gone. They lived in some sort of penthouse, in a city that looked completely unfamiliar to him. The kitchen was barely in need of cleaning, but he decided to do what Nikki asked, for once in his life. He'd only been wiping down the counters for a minute before he was out of breath.

Everything was white, modern, and spotless. He looked entirely out of place with his disgusting physique and stained sweatpants. The next on his agenda was doing that weird masturbation thing Nikki told him he had to do, and that's when he realized this wasn't a dream, and something was definitely wrong.

Had he fallen into a coma for ten years? Was he on drugs? There had to be a reason for this all to be happening. It wasn't until he returned to his room that he realized how bad it'd gotten.

It was a pigsty. Cups, plates of old food, used tissues, cans, trash bags filled with God-knows-what, and the smell of weed and cum emanating from every corner. The walls were covered in naked Japanese cartoon girls, and for some odd reason, he knew exactly what the source of each of them were. What the hell was Kill la Kill and why was his brain so focused on it? Oreimo? Neon Genesis Evangelion? How old were these girls? Why did he have so many weird plastic figurines of skinny, scantily-clad anime girls? What the hell was anime?!

That's when he remembered how he met Nikki. He was at a popular anime convention in NYC, and he saw her cosplaying his waifu, Ryuko from Kill la Kill. It wasn't like he actually watched the show--He'd just goon to the porn art people drew of the characters.

He instantly had a hard-on, and while any normal cosplayer would call convention security, she just laughed it off. That's how their deal started. She was a secret femdom with a love for weeb incels, and outside of her high-paying marketing job, she loved to manipulate them. It was a dream-come-true for Brendan, who'd been living at his mom's house with no college degree or job. It didn't matter that he was 30 and five years older than her. If she liked being called Mommy, it was a small price to pay.

He couldn't believe he forgot. Nikki had really done a service to him. She was everything he wasn't--Beautiful, social, with so many connections and so many friends. She was ambitious, and was making more money at 25 than anyone he knew. She was a complete sadist, however.

Something still wasn't right, though. This was always his life, and Brendan knew that, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable in his skin. He decided to go grab the Hitachi to start his "training," which he kind of completely forgot about.

When he found the Hitachi in Nikki's bedside drawer, and when he finally returned to the mattress in his disgusting room, he realized he had completely forgotten how to use it. He decided, against his better judgement, to call Nikki, but as he searched his room, he remembered that he never had a phone. Nikki made him give it up when he moved in.

In fact, he wasn't allowed to leave the apartment unless Nikki allowed it. It was one of the reasons he could never seem to lose weight. If he ever told Nikki he was planning on going to the gym, she'd just laugh and completely ruin his motivation. She gave him unlimited spending money for DoorDash, video games, and anime box sets, so there was really no reason for Brendan to leave. He was allowed to have a computer, but Nikki had parental controls put on his device, so she could track all his history. For some reason, that turned him on immensely.

That's when he found the video camera in the corner of his room. He had to record himself during his jerk-off sessions, to prove to Nikki he was keeping busy while she was at work. If he forgot, or simply refused, she had hours of previous recordings that she could post online to blackmail him. The sheer thought of that got him so turned on he needed to masturbate all the time.

He set up the camera at the edge of the bed and awkwardly positioned himself. Luckily, he couldn't see his reflection, but he was unsure if he was in-frame. He hated looking at himself. He was always ugly, even growing up, but he was never this fat. He was never this unhygienic, and he was never this much of a loser. He used to even have some gaming buddies and friends he'd smoke weed with. Not since Nikki. Not since his porn addiction ruined his life.

He had the laptop next to him open to Pornhub. Brendan had really embarrassing tastes. His top searches were always related to some sort of mother-son dynamic. He settled on an older woman with large breasts giving a titjob to some no-name. Within ten seconds of the video starting, the Hitachi had made him lose all composure. His two-inch cock sputtered at the sight of the woman, who hadn't even taken her shirt off yet. He came dramatically, every inch of his body quivering and jiggling as he shot ropes into his mattress. He had to hold up his gut with his free-hand, but even then, he could only barely reach his little nub with the Hitachi. He would probably pull a muscle if he tried jerking off.

Brendan could never cum. He would spurt. His balls were way too small and underdeveloped to ever produce more than a few splatters. He might've even been infertile, but even thinking about that made him leak.

He kept staring at the woman on his screen. Imagining her wrapping her large, soft breasts around his little numb, cooing and praising him as he continuously moaned, dripping pre-cum onto the stained mattress. Most men grunted, or breathed heavy, when they were close. Not Brendan. He moaned like a girl, squeaking and mewling as he overstimulated his little cock. If he kept eating like a pig, there may come a day where even the Hitachi couldn't reach his cockhead. He spurted at that thought.

He eventually got bored of that video. He had zero-attention span, and a pretty low IQ to boot. Brendan was never very smart, and he got distracted quite easily. He never even went to college. He just worked dead-end jobs until he gooned his life away. Nonetheless, he chose another video--Some busty woman strip-teasing. Even seeing her fully clothed and smiling made him lose it. He thrusted his fat thighs into his hand, shooting small ropes of cum as he cried out, his piggish face contorted as his glasses almost bounced off his face. The image of Nikki appeared in his mind, as she always had, and he couldn't help but call out to her, with a mixture of "Nikki" and "Mommy" filling the room. He almost forgot he was recording.

He'd cum three times, and it'd only been five minutes. He was getting quicker. Nikki would be so proud. His cock twitched at the thought of Nikki praising him. Some mistresses would deny their slaves from orgasm--Not Nikki. There were days when Brendan wouldn't go an hour without cumming. Nikki forced him, even waking him up from his sleep to touch himself.

He eventually grew addicted, to the point where the few times they went out, Brendan would start palming his little cock in grocery stores and restaurants. He'd cum more than once hands-free, just standing next to Nikki and seeing her ass in a good pair of jeans. He'd fall to his knees, his stained sweatpants filled with cum as he cried out, much to the dismay of onlookers. It's why Nikki eventually just left him at the apartment, because even pictures of clothed women made him squirt. She got way too good at training him. It was crazy how he went from a well-off frat bro to--

Wait, where did that thought come from?

He sat on the mattress, his fat thighs dripping in cellulite and his own cum. The only sound was the porn video, and the gentle buzz of the Hitachi. Where was he? What was he doing? Didn't he have to meet his friends at the club, or spend a few hours at the gym? Where was he? He attempted to stand up, but the hundreds of pounds of lard held him down firmly in place. The memory of what his life was--in another time, another place--finally dawned on him. He stared down at the Hitachi, and down at his shriveled, dripping nub.

He wasn't always like this, and Nikki wasn't always like that. Something changed. A lot changed. Suddenly, he felt very nervous, very unsettled. Staring down at himself gave him feelings of great nausea. He put down the Hitachi and awkwardly slid himself out from bed. Screw the camera. Screw Nikki’s rules. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

That’s when he heard the front door to the apartment open. When he went to see, it was Nikki.

“I have a little break from work, piggy,” she said, slipping off her heels. She caught his eye. “What’s wrong? You look scared.”

“I…” he breathed out, stammering over his words. “This isn’t right. Nothing about this is right.”

“Aw, did my little pig get a bit of separation anxiety?” Nikki asked, moving herself closer to him. With his eyes wide and his body frozen, she brought his face to her bosom, cutting off his words. “That’s okay. I know how much my puppy misses me.”

Her breasts were wrapped around his face, and he was a fat loser incel who never got an actual girlfriend in his life. These two statements were facts. He knew that now. He could smell her expensive perfume, and feel the softness of her tits. His nub twitched before it leaked, dripping precum down his thighs, his massive legs jiggling from sudden nervousness.

“Doesn’t this feel nice?” she cooed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I—“ This wasn’t right. He could still feel a part of himself returning, the part that was popular, obnoxious, charismatic. Attractive. “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

She laughed and ran her fingers through his greasy, thinning hair. It sent shivers down his spine. That used to work. “Aw, baby, don’t you remember? Your little cock’s too small to fit. Not to mention how long you last…” Her hand drifted, grazing down to the head of his cock, which had to be about half its length. He was twitching like crazy, and the second she tapped her finger on the head, he let out a loud “nngh” into her breasts. He spurted on the floor. “That’s why you like to watch me and Kyle have sex. Isn’t that just as good?”

Kyle. That was Nikki’s fiancee. Her actual partner. The name filled him with disdain. He was just as sadistic as Nikki, laughing at Brendan for every little thing. He even forced Brendan to suck his cock once, under the guise of letting Brendan fuck Nikki if he finished. Brendan wasn’t bisexual. Not in the slightest, but at the age of 30, he’d do anything to lose his virginity.

Kyle and Nikki laughed about it later while Kyle came inside her, balls-deep while she moaned how big his cock was. Brendan was in the corner, struggling to jerk his little cock off, and struggling even harder not to cum untouched. He wasn’t successful.

When she popped a nipple in his mouth, he came back to reality. “Mmhmm…” he agreed, mindlessly sucking as she laughed. He wished so bad that she would at least let him eat her out, but he wasn’t good enough for that. He was too dirty, too gross, too unattractive. Basically an animal. He was allowed to touch her boobs or her ass, but that was as far as he could get. He didn’t care too much—that’s as far as he could last, anyway.

She pushed him away. “Alright, I wasted enough of my break… I’ll see you tonight, piggy… with Kyle.”

He was so pathetic. The image of her getting plowed and fucked good by Kyle made his skin bleed sweat. His cock was immediately erect. It seemed to always be. Seeing her plump cunt wrapped around another man’s massive, bulging, superior cock just made his legs turn to jelly. He rushed back to his room to touch himself, hearing her snicker behind him. He didn't care. He held onto the side of the mattress as he spurted, squealing "nngh"s under his breath. Any average person wouldn't have been able to cum as much as Brendan, but it wasn't like he was cumming a lot. He mainly just dripped.

Sometimes he wished Nikki was his actual girlfriend. Sometimes he wished he had a normal life, but Brendan was always this way. A dumb, perverted, fat loser who looked twenty years older than he was. He knew he was lucky to be given this opportunity. Nonetheless, he would remember how his old friends turned out, and feel a strange sort of regret.

He would probably die a virgin, from his arteries filling with cholesterol and his heart finally giving out. That made him, again, leak.

if you enjoyed this fic, consider donating to my cashapp so i can write more fics in the future!

[thetriumphantpanda]

Howdy Charlie 🤠 l have been enjoying these new fic releases from you. You’re amazing and I love reading your work at the end of the day to unwind.

I’m not in a hurry as I’ve read you’re taking a break but if you do get inspired to write again, can I please request

❛ you are losing my interest, and that’s very dangerous. ❜ & ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

Pre-outbreak where reader does something that causes a huge fight with Joel and they ignore each other for days then reader thinks it’s the end of their relationship so she packs her bag to leave without a word but Joel comes home earlier than expected and stops her and they get into another fight before reconciling and he shows his sweeter side to make up to her . Can you make it EXTREMELY angsty and a lil fluffy in the end.

Thank you! 😘

Anon, when I say that I've had this fic sitting in my drafts FOR WEEKS I'm not even lying. I absolutely loved this prompt but idk I couldn't make it seem right... I've done my best, I really hope you enjoy it! I'm just on my Joel Miller bullshit atm, don't judge me.

Pairing | Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader

Word Count | 3k

Warnings | Some angst, some fluff, mentions of alcohol, mean!Joel at one point, SMUT - oral (f receiving) no use of y/n and I think that's it.

Main Masterlist

There was something about Joel Miller that had you smitten from the start. Maybe it was the fact that he was so different to the stupid college boys you’d been wasting your time with, or maybe it was the fact that he was devastatingly handsome, or the fact that whenever you were together, he would make it his mission to make you come enough times that you forgot your name before he even thought about taking pleasure for himself. Whatever it was he was different, and you were pretty sure you loved him. 

He'd barreled into your life headfirst a few months ago. Your car had given up the ghost on a small country road and you had no cell service to call a recovery. There had been a moment of dread when his truck had pulled up behind yours, this is how so many girls died in those documentaries you’d watched, but when he stepped out of his truck and that Southern drawl had hit your ears, you thought that even if he was going to murder you and leave you in a ditch, you wouldn’t mind all that much. Got you out of finishing your thesis if nothing else. 

“You stranded, sugar?” He’d called out, keeping his distance enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to try anything stupid. 

“Yeah,” You called back, “I have no idea what’s wrong with it and there’s no cell service.”

“You want me to take a look?” 

“You a mechanic?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Not exactly, but I’m good with my hands.” 

The innuendo isn’t lost on either of you, you smirk but give him a signal to look at your car. He pops the hood and takes a few minutes to look around, “Was it steaming when you pulled over?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” You admit. 

“Looks like it’s just overheated, sugar,” He muses, “Not much to do but sit and wait for it to cool down a little,” You pull a face at the thought of having to sit in your car without the air con, “I don’t got anywhere to be so you can sit in my truck with me for a bit?” He offers, “The air-con is on.” He adds, sweetening the deal. 

So you do. You sit with him for an hour, talking about your master’s programme and how stressed you are with your thesis. He talks about his work, bailing his brother out of jail for the second time that week and his daughter Sarah. When the sun starts to set, he jumps out of his truck to inspect your engine again, deeming it safe to drive. 

“Well, thanks,” You say as you sit in the driver’s seat and start the engine up, “Literally don’t know what I’d have done if it weren’t for you.” 

“You’d have let it sit, tried turning the key a little while later and been fine,” He chuckles, “But you’re welcome, it was nice meetin’ you.” 

“Joel-” You call as he tries to walk away, “Can I maybe buy you a drink to say thank you?” 

He turns around and smirks at you, “You askin’ me on a date?” 

“Would you say yes if I was?” You arch an eyebrow at him. 

“I’d be a fool not to, sugar.” 

It’s cliché for you to say but the rest really was history. You’d bought him a drink to say thank you a few days later, he’d bought you more because he liked your company. You’d snuck him into your room a few hours after that, managing to dash past the kitchen where your housemates were having dinner, where he’d spent an hour knelt between your legs, lapping at your pussy and then fucked you better than anyone had ever done in your life. 

It was summer break now. Sarah was away at camp for a few weeks, your thesis finally done and submitted. Joel had suggested that you stay with him, he’d mumbled something about it being nice not having to sneak around to see each other and you had to admit he was right. Waking up next to him with streams of sunlight illuminating his face, that was priceless. Making him breakfast before he went to work, domesticated but you loved it. 

It had been two weeks of that, with another one still to come before Sarah came home and you had to go back to the small room in your shared apartment. One of your friends had invited you out on Saturday night – a way for you all to celebrate being done with studies. You’d planned to go back to Joel’s that night, he’d even given you money for the cab ride home – but one too many tequila shots and a dead cell phone later, you’d been led back to your apartment by your friends, plugged your phone in to charge and promptly fallen asleep. 

When you’d woken up the next morning there was dread in your stomach, reading through the texts from Joel last night. Ten missed calls and texts that read where r u and please let me know ur safe. 

You dressed as quickly as you could, grabbing your phone and keys before you called a cab to pick you up. You knew you’d fucked up. You wanted to call him, let him know you were okay, but this was something you’d have to do face to face. It took far longer to get to Joel’s, Sunday morning traffic proving a challenge as you left the city and headed for the suburbs. You took a deep breath as you fit his spare key into the door and opened it. 

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” He asks when you shut the door and put your keys on the side table, “I’ve been worried sick about you all night.” 

“I’m sorry Joel,” You mumble, you really were, “We got carried away and then my phone died, and my housemates just dragged me back to my apartment, I was just going to charge my phone a little and then come back here but I must have fallen asleep.” 

“You didn’t think to use that landline’a yours?” He was sat on the couch, but he’d turned his body towards you in the doorway, he was pissed. 

“I’m sorry Joel, okay, it was a stupid mistake, what more do you want me to say?” 

“I gave you money to get home, told you to tell someone to remind you that’s where you were going, what were you thinking goin’ out and gettin’ so drunk you couldn’t remember where you were going home?!” 

“Don’t you dare make this out like I was outta control!” You counter, “I was safe Joel, I was with my friends, I’m not fucking stupid.” 

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.” He’s standing now, taking steps towards you. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“Should’a fuckin’ known,” He says, mostly to himself, “Don’t think about anyone but yourself, silly little girl.” 

His words cut through you like a knife. He’d never once made you feel like this. Despite the ten-year age gap you’d always seemed like his equal. Not now, now you felt small and insignificant. 

“You are losing my interest and that’s very dangerous.” Is all he says next.

“Fuck you Joel Miller,” You spit at him, reaching for your keys, “You think you’re doing me a favour? Letting me stay in your nice big house playing families? All you wanted was a fucking maid the way you’ve been behaving.” 

You’re out of the door, slamming it behind you and pulling your car out of his driveway in record time. You make it to the end of the round and a little way around the corner before you have to pull over and sob into your hands. 

*

Four days. Four miserable fucking days and he hadn’t even bothered to text you. You’d moped around in your room for the first twenty-four hours. Then your housemate had practically forced herself in because she thought you’d died. You’d cried to her about how unfair it was, then she’d made you sit on the couch, drink too much wine and watch shitty reruns. 

If it had been four days and he hadn't bothered to message, then it really must be over, right? You led in bed that morning running through all the things you’d left at his house that you really did need back. You still had the spare key, and you knew he’d be at work until later this evening, so you push yourself out of the tangle of sheets, get dressed and make the drive over. 

Thankfully when you arrive his truck is nowhere to be seen. Definitely at work then. You open the front door, closing it behind you softly. You take a moment when you step in to remember all the times you’d been happy here. The time you’d helped him make Sarah’s birthday cake, or the time you’d snuggled up under the blanket together on the sofa and fallen asleep watching a movie. The time he’d hoisted you up onto the kitchen counter and eaten you out like it was his last meal. Or the time you’d not made it up the stairs and he’d fucked you from behind halfway up the steps. Tears pricked at your eyes. Foolish. Silly Little Girl, thinking he might be the one, just like he’d said. 

You wiped angrily at your eyes and made your way up the stairs to his room, trying to block out the shiver down your spine as you thought of the long nights and lazy mornings you’d spent wrapped up in his bed. You find your duffle bag in the bottom of his wardrobe, you set it on the bed and start pulling clothes from his drawers, shoving them as quickly as you can into the bag. 

You’re setting a bottle of perfume into it when you hear a key in the door. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Of all the days he could come home for lunch, it had to be this one. 

“Sugar?” You hear him tentatively call from downstairs. 

He won’t get the satisfaction, you think, you won't talk to him, just get your things and leave. You hurry to gather the last of your belongings, hoping you can just leave, when you hear his work boots on the stairs.

You’re fighting with the zip on the bag when the door creaks behind you, “Hey, I was calling you.” 

“I heard.” You reply. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

You groan in frustration when the zip catches and refuses to move, “What does it look like, Joel?” You hiss, “I’m packing my stuff so I can be outta your hair like you want.” 

“I don’t want that.” Is all he says. 

“Well you’re doing a fucking good impression of it,” You turn to him, “You don’t call me, you don’t message me, you call me a silly little girl, but you want to keep me around?!” 

“Sugar, listen to me,” He’s walking forward, gripping your arms in his hands, “I was angry, and I handled it badly, I’m just-” He falters, “I’m not used to any of this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You look at him and you don’t think you’ve ever seen his eyes plead with you like they are now. It breaks your heart a little. 

“But you called me a silly little girl Joel,” You whimper, trying hard not to cry, “Everything you said to me hurt.” 

“I know sugar, I know.” He breaths, pulling you into his chest, “I thought if I gave you some time, we’d be able to talk, but I don’t want you to leave,” His lips brush the top of your head in a kiss, “Never want you to leave.” 

You tilt your head and press a kiss to his jawline; it had always felt like home when you were wrapped in his arms. 

“Let me make it up t’ya, sugar.” His hands are roaming down your spine and you can’t resist him anymore. 

You soften into his body, and he takes it as a yes, he tilts your chin up with one of his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. It’s soft and you let out a sigh as you wrap your arms around his neck to mold yourself closer to him. His hands are gripping at the meat of your ass as he’s walking you back towards the bed. Before he lets you fall, he grabs the forgotten bag of your belongings and tosses it to the floor, settling you to sit on the edge of the bed whilst he drops to his knees. 

His hands are pushing the skirt of your dress up to gather at your hips, his mouth leaving trails of hot kisses up one thigh and down the other. Your head drops back, and you let out a sigh when his big hands come to rest on your hips, “Can I take them off, sugar?” He asks, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. 

You look down at him and smirk, “If you want to make it up to me, I’d say it’s pretty essential.” 

He copies your smirk, “Lift up then.” 

You push down on your hands to lift your ass off the bed just enough for him to pull the lace off your skin and down your legs. You set yourself back down on the sheets but opt to stay in your sitting position, shifting your backside as close to the edge as you can without risking falling off, widening your open legs for Joel to see you. 

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He groans, leaning down to press kisses over your mound, but never once dipping low enough to give you relief. 

He knows what you want, your hips are chasing his mouth as they move around to press kisses to everywhere but your pussy. You grumble in frustration when he moves away from you, “You want my mouth on your pussy, sugar?” He asked, looking up at you like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’d have thought that was pretty obvious by now.” 

“I gotta hear you say it, sugar.” 

“Joel-” You moan, reaching out to grab a fistful of his hair, “Please put your mouth on me.”

He responds with a grin from between your legs before he licks one long stripe up the seam of your pussy, tongue dipping ever so slightly through your folds to tease your clit before he’s pulling away, “See what happens when you ask nicely?” 

You’re about to respond with something smart when he uses his fingers to spread your lips to reveal your clit, and then he’s running soft circles on it with the tip of his tongue. A guttural moan drops from your lips and your hips are bucking into his face as he continues his teasing touches with his tongue. His hands are gripping the meat of your thighs and God you want more. 

“Joel-” You moan, gripping his hair again, “Fuck, God alive I need more.” 

He pulls away from your pussy just enough to say, “What do you need, sugar?” Before he’s back to work. 

“Fu-fuck, Joel,” You’re grinding your hips into his mouth, “Fingers, please, I need your fingers.” 

You swear you can feel him smile against you, but one of his hands moves from your thighs and you feel him slip one inside of you. You’re so wet that it’s easy for him, he pulls out and when he’s pushing his fingers back into you, there’s a second, “Oh my god yes just like that.” Is all you can managed to get out. 

He’s being more forceful with his tongue now, switching between the soft teases from the tip of his tongue to full licks with the flat of it and it’s got you on the edge already. When you look down at him it’s like heaven. You can see his tongue teasing your clit and the movement of his shoulder as he pumps his fingers into you. It’s a depraved sight but one that you never want to forget. 

“Can feel you gettin’ tight around my fingers sugar,” He mumbles into your pussy, “You gonna come for me like a good girl?” 

“Yes!” You’re crying out as his fingers curl inside you into just the right spot to have spots clouding your vision, “ohmygod Joel, I’m so fucking close.” 

He knows exactly what to do from here. He’s learnt how to play your body like a fucking fiddle, and he knows it. He’s pressing his fingers so deep into your pussy, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside of you. Then he wraps his lips over your clit and sucks whilst his tongue is still flicking tight little circles over you, and you’re gone. 

Your head is thrown back and you’re screaming his name. Your pussy is clenching around his fingers and your whole body is convulsing as it washes over you. Joel pulls his fingers from you, and you look down to watch him lick your slick off them before he’s dipping his tongue lower and literally drinking from you. Wide stripes from his tongue from your aching entrance as he cleans up what you’ve given him. 

He pressed kisses to the inside of your thigh, and you can feel your slick on the scratch of his beard, “I really am sorry, sugar.” He says and you laugh. 

“Get up here.” You say, pulling at the neck of his t-shirt. 

He obliges, standing up briefly to kick off his work boots, before he’s gathering you up and placing your head against the pillows. He’s kissing you; you can taste yourself on his tongue as it molds into your own. 

He flops down on the bed next to you and you curl into his side, running your hands down his chest to rest on the bulge of his jeans before a yawn falls from your mouth, “Tired, sugar?” 

You nod, burying your face into his chest, “Not been sleeping.” Is all you offer in explanation. 

He presses a kiss to your temple, “Take a nap.” Is what he says, taking hold of your hand on his groin, wrapping your fingers together to rest on his stomach, “I can wait.” 

“Promise me you’ll still be here when I wake up?” You ask, looking up to meet his eyes. 

“I got nowhere else on earth I’d rather be, sugar.” 

[philialoving]

❝𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬!❞ 𝐟𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: so maybe I shouldn’t have bought the large boba tea

“some crab sticks sound really good right now,” dazai grumbles as he holds his stomach, finally getting out of the agency to the alleyway behind.

he rests his back on the wall, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, “you can come down now.”

at the silence, dazai quirks his eyebrow with a smile.

a figure drops from above the walls and the air brushes across dazai’s face gently, “looking fresh today,” he smoothly says and you turn to face him and he smirks, “y/n.”

you huff, crossing your arms, “you’re no fun!”

a chuckle erupts out of his chest and he walks towards you, “it’s not like you actually thought you caught me off guard, did you?”

the way you roll your eyes answers him and he laughs, ruffling your hair.

“still a long way for that, my love, but I am sure you can do it,” he muses.

you glare at him and dazai presses his lips to your forehead, “oh come now; I am risking getting fired to meet you in this alleyway. quite the scandal, don’t you think?”

“you make it sound like I work for the port mafia, ‘samu plus you never actually do paperwork.”

yeah, you don’t.

you work in another organization that’s more on the vigilante side and only comes out when necessary. still, you were considered as a pillar as much as the port mafia and the detective agency.

and that’s how he met you.

on a fateful day, when all forces had to join against the guild, he saw you. you were put to do the analysis and planning along his side and ranpo’s.

he didn’t know what to expect out of you, but he sure as hell wasn’t disappointed.

you were captivating to watch in battle (when needed) and absolutely brilliant , and he just had to pop the question, “would you do me the honor of joining me in a double suicide? your beauty would be quite the sight to view as I take my last breaths!”

he didn’t expect you to laugh, moreover for it to turn into a gentle smile and for you to pat him on the head, “you’re cute.”

you turned on your heel to think the plan through even more and dazai was left with ranpo crunching on some chips in the back.

“she totally treated you like a kid.”

“can we not talk about my failures as a man?”

and so that’s how the dynamic between you went, one of a patient and kind soul dealing with a whiny child.

“y/n! y/n! do you want to go out with me sometime tonight?” he asks, eyes filled with hope.

you shake your head gently, “how about you go hang out with atsushi, sweetheart? i am sure he would like your company.”

“but—I want to hang out with you,” the frown and sadness are basically dripping from his voice.

you wave your hand softly, “I am little busy now, honey; you can go play cards with ranpo-kun?”

he looked at you blankly, “…just how old do you think I am?” desperately trying to make his voice as light hearted as possible.

“hm?” you look at him and his slight irritation completely goes away but you answer his question nonetheless, “I was told you were a lot younger than me.”

“like about…?”

“6 to 7 years apparently,” you hum and he is confused; you look so young.

he knows it’s rude, like really rude to ask a lady her age, but he is just itching to know, “I don’t mean to be rude…but—“

“I am 24.”

he looks at you puzzled, and a little offended but he hides that with a pout, “they told you I was 18?”

you nod.

“and you believed them?”

you nod, a little confused and dazai is just wondering about how the hell are you the confused one here.

“do I look that young?”

“yeah,” you reply cautiously before speaking up softly, “…have I offended you?”

he purses his lips and takes a deep breath.

“I am sorry—“

he laughs, cutting you off, “I am actually flattered but I am the same age as you!”

it’s like you did a complete 180, “you sure don’t act like it.”

“pardon?” his smiles a little hesitant now.

“you act like an enfant on steroids, no wonder I was convinced you were younger.”

“oh? so it’s my fault?”

“undeniably so,” you insist before waving him off, “go play somewhere else.”

stubbornly, he takes a seat right beside you, “nope, I actually quite like it here.”

you groan and dazai already counts it as a little victory.

you both sit in silence but then dazai pulls back abruptly gasping, “what—you—why?!”

you giggle, pulling back with a satisfied hum, “now we are equal,” you smile (more like smirk, you little minx, he thinks) twirling the pen in your fingers, “to more rounds of annoying each other!”

he looks at his hand, utterly shocked and offended.

you drew a freaking penis on his hand.

he can’t help the pout that settles on his lips and he, truthfully, has the right to be mad so he grumbles, “and you said I was immature.”

you look at him, contemplating whether to answer him or not but you settle for yes, “it was a little experiment of mine.”

“oh really? how so?” he huffs as you stand up. it’s endearing to you how irritated he is, especially that he is mostly all charming and calm.

you nod, “I wanted to see whether you’re cute or not while pouting,” you chuckle at his face, “and I was correct: you’re pretty cute,” you move away with the slight wave of your hand.

meanwhile, dazai was left gaping. whether at the fact that you called him cute or the smiling penis on his hand, he doesn’t know.

he didn’t know that the rounds will continue till how long forever lasts for the both you.

and he also didn’t know that he would end up with you a couple of weeks later and to his surprise and absolute happiness, you made the first move, but right. dazai was left with no choice but to finally follow his heart and wish that bliss will follow along.

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART SEVEN

Ken goes to therapy. He has a lotta feelings okay. Very Ken centric chapter. (Yay?) and (possibly) some of the most intense sex I’ve written sooo…let’s go. Probably the longest chapter I’ve written this far, too.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / there’s always smut there’s never not smut / lots of angst and angry feelings (Ken is trying to process all those hard human things because they’re getting to be too intense for him) / violent imaginative fears (domestic fighting, one instance of hitting 🛑 tread softly if you might be triggered by this (I don’t want anyone triggered or hurt!!)) / nightmares / rough sex / major overstim / size kink / sex toys / anal fingering / possessiveness / lots of crying tbh (Ken is emotional af) / dom!Ken / possibly bordering on some non-con ? Depending on how you view it / fuzzy sweet aftercare

Ken sat opposite the therapist, twiddling his thumbs, staring down at the floor. Occasionally he glanced up at the doctor sitting across from him, a kindly middle aged man (you had suggested he talk to a male therapist, saying maybe in some weird way it would help him deal with jealousy when having to be emotionally open with another man in the room), and he gave Ken a small smile.

“So when this strong jealous hits, what does it feel like?” The therapist asked. He had sensed Ken’s anxiety the moment he walked in the door and opted out of the sitting-with-the-clipboard-for-notes option, instead sitting comfortably in his chair, hoping a conversation-style approach would set Ken at ease.

“It’s like I’ll cease to exist if she leaves me.”

“And does anything help with that?”

“Sex does, kinda. Sometimes a lot, sometimes only for a minute.”

“Have you talked with your partner about it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did that go?”

“She reassured me. She does every single time.”

“So this has become a consistent conversation?”

Ken paused, picking at nothing on his jeans. “I guess.”

“When was the last time you felt this way?”

“A couple days ago.”

“Did anything in particular happen to trigger it?”

“She’s having to take a class and her ex is in it.”

“Ahhhh.” The therapist mused, letting the silence sit for just a moment. “And you are worried about that?”

“I’m not worried she would do anything intentionally.”

“You’re afraid her former feelings might return for him, though.”

Ken nodded. “Yeah. I get she wouldn’t be able to help that, though. Feelings happen.”

“This is very true. Are you concerned about what might happen if those feelings return? Do you worry she would actually act on them?”

Ken frowned deeply. “I don’t think she would without talking to me first. But I don’t want them happening at all. The feelings, I mean. Because then there’s nothing I can….do.” The last word fell out as a whisper.

“You feel helpless in the relationship?” The therapist asked gently.

“Not…I.., I don’t know.”

“Have you ever been cheated on?”

“No. This is my first relationship.”

The therapist nodded. “Worries about someone leaving you are actually pretty normal, especially the first time you’re with someone.”

“Y/n told me that.”

“Has she ever shown any indication that she wants to leave you? Or that she ever might cheat on you?”

“No. I understand it’s all in my head. It still scares me, though.”

“Can I ask why you decided to come to me today? I assume this is the first time you’ve been in therapy?”

“Yeah…she’s just taking a lot of classes and she gets really stressed sometimes, especially because finals are like a month away.”

“I can understand that. You feel like your jealousy is interfering with her ability to study?”

“It stresses her out more.” Ken bit his lip. “I don’t want to do that to her.”

“So are you worried less about her randomly cheating on you, and more that you are pushing her away from you? Or, encouraging her potentially into the arms of another because she is getting stressed with how you handle your jealousy?”

Fuck. Ken hadn’t thought of it that way before. Now he was even more frightened.

When Ken didn’t answer, just stared down at the carpet, the therapist tried again. “It’s okay to be struggling with how you’re feeling. The fact that you’re working to understand why is healthy, it’s a great move on your part. It also shows her that you want to be supportive of her, and I’m sure that makes her less stressed.”

“I feel like sometimes I’m a bad person.”

“Why is that?”

“I hurt someone I care about before. She didn’t want me, and I….I tried to hurt her. I wanted to feel like I was in charge for once, but I was cruel.”

“Can I ask what you did?”

“It’s a long story.”

“That’s alright. You can tell me about it when you’re ready to.” The therapist paused, working to see how much he might be able to get Ken to explain without pressuring him and making him shut down. “Can I ask, when did this happen with your former friend?”

“Well, she’s still my friend, I guess. She’s really nice. But we don’t see each other.”

“I see.”

“It happened, I don’t know, maybe a half a year ago.”

“Was it around here?”

Ken shrugged. “Kinda.”

“Have you ever taken y/n to where that happened? Or revisited the area alone, just to see how the memories made you feel?”

Ken’s chest tightened. “No.”

“Do you think that is something you might be able to do? Sometimes being back in a physical place where we wronged someone can help us find closure, especially if the one we hurt has forgiven us, but we have been unable to forgive ourselves.”

“I don’t want to.” Ken quickly wiped away a small tear forming, pretending it was something in his eye.

“Do you think y/n would understand if you told her?”

“I’ve told her a little. She wasn’t upset.”

“Does she know the specifics?”

“Uh…no…she met my friend, though. They liked each other.”

“Well that’s really good. Do you think she might be willing to travel with you, be present with you if you decided to try and gain closure?”

“…..I don’t feel like that’s necessary.”

“Can I ask why?”

Ken was silent for a long time. The therapist respected letting him internally process as long as he needed.

“I just think it’s unnecessary.”

“How do you feel you are working to help the problem right now, other than coming to me? Is there anything you’ve tried?”

“Just sex.”

“And why does sex feel like something that can fix the issue for you?”

“Because I have her then.”

“Have her with you?”

“Have her focused only on me.”

“Does she enjoy those times with you? Do you feel like she gets stressed, maybe feeling like she has to have sex with you so you’ll calm down?”

Well, fuck. Ken hadn’t thought of that. That made him feel even worse, angry, even. Though he couldn’t place where the anger came from….oh, wait.

“No. She likes it. She always likes it.”

The therapist was taken aback slightly by the sudden, minor shift in Ken’s tone, noting the aggression suddenly appearing, but kept his external demeanor. Being surprised was a good thing. It meant his client was starting to break through their emotional barrier.

“And can I ask, why would you talking about her enjoying those sessions be something that makes you feel upset?”

“She has to like them.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s all I have to offer her.” The words tumbled out before Ken’s brain had even fully processed them, and he sat dumbstruck, his own sentence replaying in his head. He felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest.

“Ahhhhh. That sounds like that’s a lot of stress you’re dealing with, too. Feeling like you only have one certain thing of yourself to offer her that she sees as worthy of her time must be exhausting for you.”

Ken worked hard to hold back the new tears that were coming stronger than he knew what to do with.

“Do you feel that she actually only sees you as worth her time because of the sex?”

Ken shook his head genuinely. “No.”

“So that’s another lie you have told yourself.” The therapist kept his tone soft.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to know right now.”

****************************************************

The walk home was torture. He tried so hard to think through everything they’d talked about as “healthily” as he could - the therapist’s words. But all he could think about was silencing everything for just a little while. He thought of getting home to tie you to the bed again and just fuck you for hours. Every time you were lying trapped underneath him was the only time he ever felt like he truly had any control over anything. But maybe today he needed to to be free to move however you pleased, to experience however you would wrap yourself around him or grasp onto his muscles or grab his hair. He could easily still keep you underneath him as long as he wanted with just his body weight.

The closer he got to the front door, however, the more overwhelmed he became, the voices in his head growing louder and louder, and suddenly he felt like he couldn’t even fuck you if he wanted to right now. He felt like he might collapse.

Ken opened the door as quietly as he could, not wanting to alert you he was home. Unfortunately, since the kitchen was very close to the entryway, you heard the moment he stepped inside.

“Hi, baby,” you said, turning while holding your coffee cup.

Ken froze, feeling embarrassed. He still didn’t know why he did, but he had worked to stop crying the entire walk home, without success. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks wet.

“Oh, Ken,” you said, setting down your cup and coming up to him, your hands on his face, your thumbs rubbing across his cheekbones. “It was a hard talk today?”

Ken nodded, hanging his head, his hands wrapping around your wrists. “I feel like I’m nothing to you, but I know better.”

“That’s okay.” Your voice was like a warm tea coating his aching chest. “I know you struggle with that. I can keep reminding you that you mean so much to me.”

“What if…like, I couldn’t offer you sex?”

You cocked your head, confused, but went with it. “I would still love you the same.”

He forced his eyes up to meet yours. “You mean it?”

“MMhmm. I do.”

He sniffed.

“Do you feel like I wouldn’t love you?” You asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down again.

“Do you need some rest? Anytime I get really upset and have cried really hard some time in bed always helps me.”

He nodded, and you took his hand in yours, leading him to the bedroom. You helped him out of his clothes leaving him only in his boxers and went to the closet, pulling something out.

“Here,” you said, walking over to the bed and tossing a huge comforter on top of it. “This is my extra soft, cozy one. I used to use it all the time on really hard days awhile ago. I had forgotten I had it until now.”

He smiled a little then, reaching his hand out to you. You went to sit on the bed next to him, keeping your feet on the floor. You kissed his palm as his hand went to rest of your face.

“I love you so very, very much, my love,” you cooed. “But I need to get back to studying. I have awhile yet to go. I had just taken a short break to make some caffeine when you came home.”

Came home. Okay. Focus on the good things, his therapist had suggested. “Listen to anything that makes you feel safe or calm, try to enjoy the moment while it’s happening. This might help when you get stressed out to remember those times and know you are safe.”

“I’m home with you,” he mumbled.

You didn’t understand but nodded. “Yes. You’re home with me.”

He hummed, snuggling underneath the covers. “Okay.”

You smiled at him and kissed his cheek before picking up your laptop from your desk and picking up a textbook, heading out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You’d study at the kitchen table while he rested.

The home was on fire. Ken rushed through the flames, yelling your name, panic rising every second he couldn’t find you as smoke filled his lungs. Finally he heard you as you screamed, and his heart jumped in his chest as he rounded the corner to find your hands restrained to the wall over your head, blindfolded. You weren’t screaming in terror, you were screaming with pleasure. A faceless man was holding your legs around his waist, fucking up into you violently. It seemed you had no idea about the flames about to consume you, or maybe even who the man was. Ken tried to make his legs moved, begged them to, but he was stuck on the spot. He cried out your name but it seemed you didn’t hear him, your head through back in ecstasy as you moaned in time with the man’s thrust. Ken found a rock next to him and threw it at the man. It bounced off of him as if he didn’t even know it had been thrown, but then the blank face slowly turned to stare at Ken, a wicked smile suddenly spreading across his face where a mouth hadn’t been a moment before.

Ken sat upright in bed, gasping, panicking as he grabbed at anything he could touch, stopping only when he realized he had only fisted his hands up in the comforter. He buried his face hands, shaking, trying to stop the sobs that threatened to take him over again. He couldn’t remember ever having a nightmare before. He’d heard of them, but couldn’t even remember having a dream, only knowing they were something that apparently were a normal thing for most people, yourself included.

He tried to pinpoint the emotions he was feeling - something else the therapist had suggested when he got overwhelmed. Okay. Angry. Scared. Angry. Heartbroken? Fuck. Really, really fucking angry. He fell back into the pillows only to realize the sheets were covered in sweat underneath him.

You would help him feel better. He could go to you and you would pause your homework to soothe him and pet him and sit on his lap while he held you and hid his face in your neck. You wouldn’t be mad at him, you’d be so kind and patient like you always were.

He didn’t deserve you.

He didn’t deserve anything good.

The idea of going to you quietly to ask for comfort left his mind as quickly as it floated in, being forced out by a memory he created himself that honestly would probably never happen: you ignoring him, you telling him to get over himself while he finally was trying to understand why he kept feeling so angry like you had asked him to, you yelling at him, throwing something at his face. Telling him to….

“I can’t leave,” he cried into the pillow. “You said this was our home.”

You laughed. “Our nothing. Get the fuck out.”

You slapped him. He felt like his entire being shattered.

Ken was gripping the pillow so tight that his wrist began to cramp. Why. WHY couldn’t he stop these horrific scenes that played through his head.

The therapist had told him to breathe, even showed him how to inhale for four seconds and exhale the same amount of time. The mental scenarios weren’t real. They just might feel real.

Maybe he did need to return to Barbieland for a day…? Maybe he was dealing with fear that throwing Barbie out of her home could rebound back onto him…

UGH. Fuck fuck. This was hard. This was way too fucking hard. How was this supposed to help him get better, especially when your soft, perfect body was right behind that door, just down the hallway. When your voice could be filling his ears and drowning out at least most of these horrible things he heard in his head. Your taste filling his mouth, the scent of you, every inch of you, making him feel drunk.

You looked up from your book, Ken standing in the doorway. Sweat covered his body, his hair erratic, his face still as wet as earlier.

The concerned look on your face soothed him…but just a little.

“What happened?” You asked gently.

“I had a nightmare.”

Oh shit. “I’m so sorry. Do you need to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Wanna forget it.”

“I understand that. Do you want to come sit with me?”

“Want you with me.”

“Yes, Ken, that’s what I said-“

“Want you with me.”

Before you knew what was happening Ken had picked you up and set you on the kitchen counter where you became trapped between the cabinets and him. “Need you.”

“What did the therapist tell you to do when you feel like this?” You tried softly, reaching for the hand towel next to you and gently wiped at his chest to remove the cold sweat.

“It’s not working.”

“It doesn’t always work right away.”

He wanted to slam you into the cabinets, forcing his lips onto yours, making you stop talking about all the bullshit he had been fighting inside himself ever since that stupid appointment today. He knew that was the wrong thing to do.

“Can I ask what happens to you when you choose sex to deal with these emotions you’re struggling with?” The therapist had asked. “Anything in particular that seems to help at all?”

Ken didn’t want to answer. Would you call the sex violent is he asked? Or would it just be ‘rough’? He didn’t like the word violent…you had never told him that word, so it mustn’t be so. You would have told him. You would tell him if he ever hurt you.

“Ken?” The therapist had said, breaking through the long silence that had followed his question.

“I….I tend to be rough.”

“How does that help you?”

“I don’t have to think as much as usual. It helps block it all out.”

“It blocks all of it out?”

“Well…not everything, not always. But sometimes. Sometimes I get to have moments where everything becomes quiet except for her. I get to just hear her.”

And he desperately needed to hear you now. His strong hand ripped your crop top off, tearing the material from how hard he had pulled. You sighed as you watched it thrown to the floor.

“I liked that top,” you said.

“I’ll get you ten more,” Ken promised, biting down onto your nipple.

You cried out, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

Oh, thank god. The exquisite pain of the way your nails dug into his skin, the taste of your flesh, the sound of your voice. His mind quieted for a second, and he heaved a sigh of relief as his tongue circled your nipple, his hands on your back, holding you into him.

“Do you feel like you take your anger out on her during sex?” The therapist’s words echoed in his head. God fucking dammit, not now. He had you in his arms. He would have you underneath him any second now. He didn’t need these fucking questions interrupting any of his time with you, especially these times.

“I don’t know.”

“Have you asked her if she feels that way?”

“She wouldn’t feel that way,” Ken forced himself not to sneer.

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because she likes it.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“She would tell me if she didn’t!”

He slammed you into the wall now, your legs wrapped around him, needing to fuck that horrible image from his nightmare out of his mind. You had pleaded with him not to tear the pajamas pants you had been wearing and he had pulled them off swiftly, laying them in a single piece on the table before picking you up again.

“You like this?” He asked, voice breathless but harsh. He was terrified of your answer, but now that the question was on his mind, he couldn’t make it go away. God, the last thing he wanted to do was actually hurt you.

“Yes, Ken,” your head fell back against the wall when he bucked his hips up unto yours, the thin fabric of his boxers not doing anything at all to hide how hard he was.

“You’d tell me if I was hurting you?”

“Yes, Ken,” you repeated.

“Aren’t you going to tell me you should be studying?”

“Need a break anyway.” You sighed, angling your hips a little to try to get better leverage of him rubbing against your folds. “You feel good.”

Against his usual judgment, Ken pulled his cock out of his boxers and tested his tip against your opening before he tried fingering you to see how wet you were for him. Your hands clamped his shoulders tighter.

“Do you think you can take me right now?” He breathed into your ear and you giggled because it tickled a little.

“I can try,” you said, one hand traveling to grip the back of his neck as he started to slide into you.

Your cry was loud, and Ken’s mind once again quieted for a single moment, and he bottomed out in you as he experienced one more second of relief.

“I need her loud,” he had confessed as the session was ending earlier that day. “It’s the only thing that ever fully drowns any of the bullshit out.”

He thrust up hard again and your forehead fell into his, your eyes closed, focusing on your breathing as he stretched you out a little sooner than you probably should have been. His hips started snapping into you in a quicker pace.

“Can I lay down,” you shuddered as the pain became more pleasurable. “Wanna be comfy with you.”

“Need you. Need you right here for just another minute.” Ken tried to slow his thrusts but struggled for control as he tried fucking that image from his nightmares out of his mind.

His head hurt from all of the stress he’d been trying to process from the day. His head fell into your shoulder, closing his eyes, your moans becoming louder as he tried angling himself to hit your special spot. He left wet kissing along your neck, hoping it would help dull any pain you might still be dealing with, and when his name fell from your lips in a blissed out sigh he sucked gently on your pulse point.

The nightmare slowly melted from his mind’s eye and he slowed his thrusts until he had stopped completely, staring into your eyes.

“You’d tell me if I ever hurt you, right?”

You nodded. “You’ve never hurt me, Ken.”

He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently.

He had been saving a special something for you, something he had wanted to use on a special night, maybe after he finally took you out on a proper date. But he needed to hear you, see you react to it now. Maybe that was selfish of him. For the moment, he had lost the motivation to care.

“Close your eyes,” he asked, kissing your temple, and you smiled, doing as he asked.

You heard a buzzing sound and felt yourself becoming wetter. You hadn’t told him but you’d used the vibrator on yourself in the shower while he had been in therapy, loving a moment of personal release where you didn’t have to think about anything for a moment.

Your eyes shot open when you felt the strong vibrations covering your clit… all the way down your vulva, sliding into your opening. Your body jerked and you grabbed one of Ken’s forearms as he leaned himself onto the bed with his hand but remained upright enough to watch the way your opening clenched around the toy.

“Holy…ahhh.what…”

It was one of those vibrators were it had a clit stimulator but curved downward so it had a dildo attached to it that could slide inside you and stay without having to be held. The stimulation against your g-spot was delicious but automatically a little overwhelming, your vision going dizzy for a second while you worked to adjust.

Ken leaned over you fully, pressing your hands into the bed beside your head, wrapping his fingers in your own.

“Do you like it?” He asked.

It filled you up enough to compare to two of his fingers while having almost more of an intensity than it was when Ken nipped at your clit.

You nodded, gasping, and he smiled down at you, kissing your lips.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” he promised, slowly starting to kiss down your sternum.

“Alright, I’m going to ask you a hard question, Ken.” The therapist laced his fingers together. “What if she does end up leaving?”

“You don’t have the right to say that out loud.”

“It’s probably a good idea for us to address this idea head-on. Ignoring it, stuffing it inside makes it worse.”

“How does it help if I think about it?”

“Intentionally bringing up fears and talking through him often makes them less scary. You’re able to conquer the biggest aspects of those fears, learn exactly what fuels the, so they become easier to deal with when they come up.”

“I don’t want her to leave.”

“I know, I-“

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“Our bed,” he mumbled, his lips attaching to your hip bone. “My y/n.”

You didn’t hear him, your ears filled with the buzzing from the toy.

God, you were perfect, writhing underneath him, even giggling a little as his wet kisses as they got to your stomach then going back to bunching the comforter up in your hands when the vibrator caused another spark of pleasure. Ken had made sure to lay out the comforter over the entire bed so you’d be extra comfy, like you had said you wanted.

“Well now I’m worried she’ll throw me out if I can’t stop acting like this.” Ken leaned his elbows onto his knees, his face in his hands. “Why would you put that idea in my head-“

“You already had it there, you told me so yourself.” Ken saw the therapist cross his legs through his fingers. He hated him. Not that he had done anything wrong…he just…he hated all of this.

“I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know how on earth I’d handle it.” Ken loathed how his voice choked a bit.

“Our goal is to make sure, to the best of our ability, that that will never happen.”

“I can make her stay.”

“Mine.” Ken flipped you over onto your stomach, the pressure of the toy being pushed onto your clit more intense from laying on it making you cry into the comforter. “All mine.”

He dipped a finger into you from behind, turning it upward to caress your muscle opposite the toy. You let out a strangled, throaty groan.

“What if she grows to hate me.” Ken’s words weren’t a question, they were as if stating a fact that was already coming into existence. He glanced at the clock. Why was time ticking by so slowly in this god awful therapy room.

“I do think this one is all in your head. Based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like you’d have to really go too far for her to ever hate you.”

“I’ll figure out how to make that not happen.”

“Unfortunately, we only have so much control over -“

“I will make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Ken slipped his belt from underneath the comforter, his hand almost shaking. Somehow marking you with his mouth was never enough for him now. He needed more. He needed you to react more, and lately his lips claiming your skin had made you relax more than anything. He wanted to be a comfort to you the same way you were to him. Somehow his brain wouldn’t let him see things that way, though. He didn’t know if he was ever truly a comfort to you.

You’d promised him he’d never hurt you. Thank god, because he was desperate for this release.

Your mangled scream filled the room as he bought the belt down, alternating cheeks, harsh and without pause. Usually he would wait a few seconds in between each for you to catch you breath, especially the first couple times. Today he saw red as the conversation with the therapist wouldn’t stop echoing in his mind, your legs shaking almost violently, your ass cheeks clenching as he kept finger fucking you alongside the vibrator.

Your body shuddered hard and you bit into the comforter, your throat raw from your screams as your orgasm hit out of nowhere. Ken didn’t even realize you hit your climax until he felt the way your muscle spasmed, knowing exactly the way you felt every single time you peaked with him inside you. Oh fuck, how on earth had he not seen that coming, heard the way your voice always hit a higher pitch right before it happened? He dropped the belt, focusing solely on the way his fingers touched you, his free hand pushing into your lower back as your hips bucked up into him.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, loving how long this orgasm was lasting. “Come on my fingers as long as you need.”

Your entire body was shaking as you came down from your waves, Ken pulling his fingers out slowly, wrapping his lips around them.

“Ken,” you shivered. “The vibrator.”

“Mmhmmm?” He knew what you meant, but loved the way you were remaining in a zone of overstimulation. He leaned over onto you, pressing his hips into yours, his cock rubbing into your folds.

“Ahhhhh….no, please….”

“No, please, what?”

“Ken!”

“No, baby girl. I need you to tell me. Need to hear you say it.”

“Need a breather, please, please.”

Ken bit into your shoulder. “What if I don’t want to?”

Tears stung your eyes. “I’ll do whatever you want, for fuck’s sake. Just turn it off for a minute.”

That got his attention. He stood up and reached down to press the button and your tense body finally got to collapse fully into the mattress. Your ass was bright red, your fluids coating the toy and dripping down your pussy a little bit. Ken licked up the toy from the middle to your opening, pressing it a little harder into you, sucking on your opening. Your back arched and you made one of those kitten noises that always made him become impossibly harder.

God, he needed to fuck you. He had so many ideas now, his mind thankfully able to focus solely on you and what all he would do to you before letting you rest.

“Oh, god, please be gentle,” you whimpered as you felt your leg grabbed, knowing he was about to tie you up again.

“Just gonna make you feel good,” he promised.

You turned your head to see his eyes, a layered mix of anger and fear and….he was trying not to cry.

“Baby,” you said softly, your voice floating into his ears, and he looked at you. “What is it? What are you feeling right now?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay -“

“I don’t need to feel anything.”

“But you’re feeling a lot right now.”

He changed his mind. He’d tie you up later. He moved you onto your back and you kept your legs closed.

“Talk to me, Ken. Let’s work through this together.”

“Don’t want to talk about it. Want to fuck you.”

“You’ll get to -“

“We’ll talk later.”

“Promise?”

“Open your legs for me.”

“Ken -“

“Open. Them.”

You kept your legs closed, attempting to sit up but Ken leaned over you.

“I need your legs open, y/n.”

“You want them open.”

“No, I need it.”

You shook your head. “Not until you talk to me.”

Ken sighed. He dropped the belt you hadn’t notice he had been holding in his hand on the bed beside you and leaned on his forearms to kiss you.

“What are you feeling right now?” You asked against his lips.

That you’ll be gone when I come tomorrow from work. That this will be the last time I ever hold you, feel you, hear the noises you make because of me. “Nothing.”

“Baby, please.”

“Let me back inside you.” His eyes stared into yours. “I swear I’ll tell you everything later.”

“How much later?”

He kissed you deeply again, hand reaching to push itself between your folds. “Soon.”

You relented and relaxed your legs so Ken could pull them apart. The moment your wet, pink folds were visible to him, he brought the belt down in a single, stinging blow.

You weren’t sure how your body reacted other than you struggling for breath, your vision dark behind your tightly shut eyelids, an almost static-like audio blocking your ears from hearing anything else more a moment. You heard Ken’s voice bringing you back, feeling his weight on top of you.

“Such a good girl. You’re going to be fine. Ride it out for me. I’m here.”

Your eyes opened and a loud whimper escaped from deep in your throat.

“You’re going to feel so incredible in just a moment.” Ken’s voice was soft, trying to soothe you. He gently brushed a finger against your clit and you scratched at his back in response, trying to find any way to ground yourself, but then he moved down your body and licked his tongue up you.

“Touch me, please,” Ken asked, and without thinking your hands gratefully pulled on his hair, thankful for something to grip and jerk on. Ken hummed happily, going back to consume your core, and you wondered where he’d learned all of this, if he’d thought it up or if he had maybe read it somewhere.

Like the last time he spanked you before eating you out, everything was incredibly pleasurable, but today times ten, your body experiencing the intense pain somehow making the pleasure even greater, every nerve and fiber stimulated.

Your lower stomach muscles were clenching as he worked his magic, the build-up of your next orgasm almost painful, but still in the best way.

“Need you to come for me again. Need you nice and wet and relaxed.”

“Why?” You almost didn’t want to know, your body still working to process all of this.

“You’ll see.”

Your orgasm hit fast and hard again, barely able to come back down from your high when Ken inserted the vibrator again and turned it on. You felt like you were having to force your brain to focus to move your limbs as you tried reaching down to turn it off but Ken intercepted, grappling with your thrashing arms until he had them pressed into the mattress beside your head, climbing on top of you and holding one of your legs open and down with his knee gently so as not to hurt you.

“Baby, baby, I’ve got you.”

You screamed in frustration, trying to raise your arms to no avail. “What if I wasn’t letting you recover when you needed to?” You wailed.

Ken arched an eyebrow and smiled down at you. “You have.”

“Not THIS much.”

“True. You’ll have to surprise me with it sometime.” Ken carefully turned you over onto your stomach again, holding your arms behind you. “Just ride it out, baby girl. You’ve got this.”

“Pleeaasee Ken. Please, please, please.” You almost sobbed with relief when the vibrator was turned off although it remained firmly within you, deep inside your walls while still covering your clit.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay. Take your time.” Ken lay beside you, propped up on his arm, his fingers gliding up and down your back to soothe you.

He enjoyed the moment as long as his head let him. The quiet broken only by your jagged breaths and little noises as you worked to calm your body’s quivering, the softness and warmth of your skin underneath his fingers.

The voices began again, a sickening layered mix of everything he’d heard the therapist ask today. The one question threatening to overtake him completely, repeating itself, becoming more cruel each time he heard it.

“What if she does leave? What if she does leave? What if she leaves? What if she’s already left? She’s made the plans. She’s gone.”

Ken laid his head next to yours, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Tell me you love me.”

You mumbled something through your panting, your nails still gripping the comforter, trying to ground yourself.

“Please. I need it.”

“Love you.” The words were almost incoherent.

“Again.” Silence. “Please.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, y/n.”

Your eyes remained closed, feeling so incredibly tired that you were sure if Ken left you alone that you’d probably fall asleep within moments.

You felt your left leg being pulled toward the bed post again as the silky tie wrapped around it tightly then being attached to the post.

You can’t not be thinking about him when he’s not around, when you’re in class, when he’s at work…he wrapped the second tie around your right ankle, jerking a little harder than he meant to when he pulled the knot tight. He thought about you all the time, nonstop…he needed to make sure you always had a constant reminder of him.

He needed to make sure he made you sore.

The vibrator turned on again and your upper back grew tight as you felt like you might tear through the comforter while trying to hold onto something. You felt not one, but two of Ken’s fingers push inside you, your tight muscle stretching around them.

“How does this feel?” He asked.

“Ss..so..much…” You felt a third finger join his first two and your back arched. “I…so…full…”

“Mmmmmmm.” Ken watched at the way your muscle worked to relax around his fingers and the vibrator, being stretched out slowly. “I need to make sure you’re ready for me, remember?”

Oh. Dear. God. He wasn’t going to actually try and fuck you!!??!

“Ken, please think about this. You’re not going to fit.”

“That’s why I’m stretching you out with my fingers.” His free hand roamed over your lower back and ass. “I’m gonna fit inside you just fine.”

“But you won’t, though.”

“Just trust me.” He removed his fingers from you to spread your wetness around your ass hole, easily visible due to how wide your legs were being held open. He wouldn’t do anything without making sure you were okay with it, and he probably needed to wait for another day because he didn’t want to push you too much over your edge, but his focus kept snapping back to how this was the only area of you no one else had ever claimed before. No one else had touched you here, fucked you here. Maybe, if one day you relented, he could make you his in a way no one else had.

He tested just the tip of his thumb into that muscle and your legs went rigid.

“Is this okay?” He asked, genuinely wanting to make sure you were okay.

You were shocked how much it felt so good, a new pleasure you hadn’t exactly experienced before filling your entire lower region.

“Yes,” You breathed.

He rubbed his thumb just inside, moving it in small circles, and your vaginal opening clamped down onto the vibratory harder.

Fuucckk. Fuck fuck. Ken saw and heard how beautiful you’d be, experiencing anal sex for the first time with him, breaking you in by fucking you while fingering your virgin hole so you could orgasm around him before he’d sink his cock into-

No, focus here, now. He knew when you were nearing exhaustion and despite imagining how hot it would be to actually push you past what was comfortable for you because god, what if you loved it, what if he could pleasure you longer than usual after that, and he’d jerk himself off roughly in the shower while creating those scenarios in his head…he needed to make sure he kept himself in control, make sure you didn’t get hurt in any way.

He pulled his thumb out and pushed his throbbing cock against your opening partially taken up by the vibrator.

“Are you ready for me, y/n?”

“I don’t know,” you confessed, jerking against the leg restraints, wanting to plead for another break from the vibrator before going forward but also needing to feel exactly what this was about to be like.

“I’ll go slow.” He pushed his tip in then and you keened, Ken gasping loudly between how insanely tight you were, pressing into his member almost painfully, and the vibrator on the underside of his cock sending chills through his entire body. He gripped onto your hips, forcing himself still so he wouldn’t bottom out in you and hurt you. Your gasp sounded almost strangled, like you’d had the wind knocked out of you.

“Breathe, baby.”

“It hurts, ahhh, ugh, Ken, Ken…”

Please, please don’t make me stop, he thought. “Do I need to stop?”

Your voice was like velvet. “No. It hurts but it’s so fucking amazing.”

Ken pushed further inside, stopping again when your scream filled his ears - god, yes, please, so perfect, your voice only rising so loudly only for him - waiting for you to calm down a little again before going deeper.

He shut his eyes tightly trying not to cum right then. He’d never felt anything so tight, the vibrations exquisite, your voice finally fully drowning out all the awful fucking conversations and anxieties of the day. Finally, everything was quiet.

Finally, everything was just you.

He bottom out after the fourth time he thrust forward, needed to feel every inch of you as he leaned over you, holding himself up on his forearms. You lay groaning under him and he used his thumb to encourage the slightest turn of your head without straining your neck, kissing you so sweetly it felt contradictory to the amount of intense stimulation you were experiencing otherwise.

His thrusts were tender, almost intoxicated in nature, pulling almost all the way out before bottoming out inside you again, but everything somehow felt different this time.

You’d made love to him in the past, but he hadn’t been able to feel that “perfect” connection he kept hearing about in stupid romance movies, like it was some sort of magic that only existed in fiction. He didn’t know why today, but he finally felt connected to you. Like his lips were created specifically for yours and vice versa, your body only existed in this state of pleasure because of him, and obviously he had only ever felt anything like this with you.

You had tried to prepare yourself for Ken’s jealousy-fueled anxiety to consume him as soon as he cock was in you, his thrusts rough and his eyes blazing as you’d have to get used to the pain - albeit really, really good pain - until it subsided and everything only existed in a state of pleasure, but you hadn’t expected this: languid and sweet and god, you were thankful for it. You’d never been stretched this much, never had someone somehow this deep inside you, even if it only felt like it was the deepest you’d ever felt.

His hips picked up their pace but only a little, your bodies somehow seeming to move as one. Ken’s head fell into the pillow right next to where you were facing him, wanting to watch you but his eyes closing, feeling a little overstimulated himself.

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” he panted into the pillow. “You’re always so fucking good to me.”

“I need to come, Ken.” Your voice was weak.

He opened his eyes then. “Tell me what you need.”

He fucked your through your orgasm, sucking on your neck hard to mark you on this special occasion as your muscles clenched and spasmed in such a way that if you weren’t tied up and held down under Ken’d bodyweight that you would have ended up in the fetal position from your body automatically trying to curl up and away from how intense everything was.

Your whimpers mixed with a couple tears that rolled down your cheeks sent Ken over the edge, him finally losing what little control he’d held onto as he bottomed out into you over and over again until the waves calmed, and his body shook on top of your trembling frame.

He wanted to stay there and just kiss your neck and back, losing himself in you while his head swam with the aftermath of his pleasure, but he forced himself to stand up and pull himself out, removing the vibratory from you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, your body still shaking, because usually you’d have been able to calm down more by now.

“Y,y yes,” you stuttered. “Need…I don’t…kno-“

Ken ripped your ties off and turned you onto your back, your limbs limply falling onto the bed.

“I’ve got you,” Ken promised. He turned on the shower and coaxed you to sit up, your full bodyweight leaning against his chest while he held you after he’d brought you a glass of water.

He carried you into the shower and had tossed in one of those fruity scented shower bombs that you always loved after a long day at school. He crossed his legs in a way to where he could cuddle you while you rested on his lap without having to sit on the cold tile floor, and held your head tenderly while you leaned against him, bordering back and forth between being awake and drifting off to sleep.

Had he intentionally exhausted you to this extreme of a point to make sure he wouldn’t have to talk about all these stupidly hard emotions like he’d promised he would? He would keep his promise, he couldn’t ever imagine lying to you, but he didn’t want to do it today. He couldn’t.

But he would, no matter how much he didn’t want to, as soon as you asked him.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asked, lips against your forehead.

“Mmmm…chocolate.”

He smiled. “Chocolate what? Cake? Ice cream? Just a bar of it?”

“Everything.” Your giggle was sleepy and weak, but it was perfect to him.

“Then I’ll get you everything,” he promised. “Also, whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’d like to ask if maybe you’d like to go on a trip with me.”

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[thefallennightmare]

Soo I've been thinking about Matt a lot recently and when you look Matt Dierkes up on tiktok, there are some older videos of him playing the drums and he doesn't have arms, he has ARMS🫠 but, I'd like to request for a headcanon monday something with protective Matt. When I see how he is protective of his friends online, can you imagine how he would be in real life with his gf?🥹 maybe at a show some scene with violent fan or something? I'll leave the plot up to you🥰

Matt's eyes were watching your back intently as you were dealing with throwing a rowdy group of guys out of the venue.

You, along with Ash, helped out as security for Bad Omens shows. Ash gave you extensive training and you'd shown more than once you could handle yourself.

But tonight, as Bad Omens performed, the crowd was insane and causing problems; more specifically, the group of guys that were hanging in front of Matt's sound desk.

"You guys need to leave," you ordered to one of the guys; a tall metalhead male who thought they ran the crowd.

The man snorted. "I'd like to see you try, baby. With those dainty hands, I wouldn't want you to break a nail."

This outburst caused Bad Omens to stop the show and Noah looked on with not only aggravation but a careful eye; since you were his little sister.

Matt was gripping the edge of the sound desk, wanting so badly to get involved but you've stated many times that you could handle yourself.

"The three of you have been drinking all night and I've got you guys multiple times putting your hands on women. You need to leave, now!" You pointed to the exit of the venue.

The tall metal head grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his chest. "Kiss for the road?"

Matt saw red and hopped over the sound desk to rip the guy away from you, shielding you behind his back.

"She's asked you nicely twice. I, on the other hand, won't. Get the fuck out now," Matt sneered.

You peered over Matt's shoulder and placed your hands on his hips, knowing he had a temper sometimes when it came to protecting the ones he loved; especially you, his wife.

The man stepped up to Matt, and suddenly Noah's voice echoed through the speakers.

"I'd suggest you rethink that. Matt isn't a fighter, my younger sister is though and she'll knock you on your ass before you even touch her husband."

Smirking over Matt, you motioned to the rowdy guys. "Consider yourself blacklisted from Bad Omens shows."

Spitting at our feet, the guy with his friends were eventually led out of the crowd by Ash and another guard; the crowd cheered that the show could continue.

Matt spun on his heels to look over you. "Are you alright?"

You bit your lip, remembering the way he literally jumped over the sound desk to come to your aid. It caused a fire low in your gut but you sighed knowing you couldn't do anything about it until after the show.

"Remind me to thank my hero later," you mused while kissing his lips before slipping back into the crowd to return to your post.

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Hey!

Just read „Mirror Mirror“ and I saw that you‘re still taking requests so here’s something! :))

I saw a fanart of Ascended Astarion smoking and blowing the smoke seductively into Tavs mouth, who’s sitting in his lap and I swear, that’s some hot stuff!

So I‘ve been thinking about Astarion sitting in his study, still all dressed up in a fancy outfit, doing some important paperwork (he is such an important politician now after all) and smoking a cigarette or cigar with a nice glass of whiskey, looking so powerful and then Tav comes in and sees him, finding all of this incredibly hot and takes her rightful place in his lap…. ;)

I see your vision and I respect it. One small change is his outfit is fancyish but a lil on the casual side since he's at home. But still scary prettyman!

TW: Graphic smut, spoilers for the game with embellishments, ascended astarion acting like himself, though in a mild form since this is mostly just banging and fluff.

~

Astarion sighed as he set the paper down, rubbing at his temples as he considered his options. The letter from Mizora was tempting, to say the least. A personal assassin that could materialize out of thin air obviously had its perks. But... the terms were concerning, solely for the fact that they were too simple. A year of her services in exchange for a place to stay in Baldur's Gate, at his home.

He was tempted. But the thought of that devil having such clear access to you was non-negotiable. Especially when he had no insight on her motivations. No, he'd have to find another way to get rid of his political rivals, preferably without getting personally involved. He did so love the heroic image he had cultivated amongst the common folk, one that would be hard to maintain if he was caught with his fangs digging in the nape of the Captain of the Guard.

What a headache.

He leaned back in his chair, thoughtful as he took another drag of his cigarette, his drink in his other hand. No one said that regional domination would be easy. He just wished it wasn't so irritating. Maybe they shouldn't have gotten rid of Gortesh after all, he was a backstabbing little weasel but at least then Astarion wouldn't have to deal with pesky things like ethics. But that was too little too late. It's not like he could un-decapitate the man.

Astarion paused his musings when something started to tickle at the back of his mind. A presence, lurking in the darkness. Astarion smiled to himself as he set his whiskey down, calling out into the black hallway, "I see you over there pet."

Astarion grinned as you came into view, already relaxing at the mere sight of you. You leaned against the doorway, clad in nothing but a thin nightdress. Thin enough for him to nearly be able to see through it, your feet bare. You looked delicious, the perfect distraction from his troubled thoughts.

"Am I disturbing you?" You asked coyly, fully aware that you never could. There you were, the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. His favorite pet, his most precious treasure. How could you ever disturb him?

Astarion chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, "Would you care?"

"Not particularly," You sighed as you waltzed into the room, "Especially considering how I'm the one who has been kept waiting."

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the little dig as he patted his lap, "Come here my love, let me get a better look at you."

You went easily, settling into his lap with a happy sigh. 

"Such a pretty thing," Astarion murmured as he looked you over, his dick already twitching at the sight of you; your nipples pebbling in the cold air, completely visible through the light cloth. You looked divine. 

Astarion let his hand creep up your thigh, playing with the hem of your short slip as he took another drag. One that he decided to share. Astarion gripped you by the chin, a soft order escaping his lips, “Open up darling.”

You popped your mouth right open, so obedient it made his heart sing. He breathed the smoke into your lungs, pressing a barely there kiss against your lips before he pulled back; happy to see the way your pupils were already dilated. 

"What are you doing out of bed my sweet?" Astarion asked, only a touch of discontentment coloring his voice. You knew how he felt about you wandering around at night, even in your own home. He liked to know where you were at all times, no ifs, ands, or buts. Though… looking over you once more, he supposed he could make an exception.

"No reason in particular," You said, an obvious lie. One that Astarion would be able to parse out even if he didn't have full access to your mind. It wasn't helping that you were already squirming in his lap, seemingly trying your best to discreetly arouse him even more.

Astarion set his cigarette down on the ashtray, moving to run his free hand through your hair before gripping it harshly, chuckling at the way it made you gasp.

"We talked about lying pet," Astarion murmured, the hand in your hair tightening, "Unless you're looking for a punishment?"

"Maybe I just missed you," You tried again, your breath already quickening. Astarion wouldn't be surprised if you were already dripping into your panties. You did love it when he got rough.

Besides, at least that was closer to the truth.

Astarion's hand crept further up your leg, caressing your inner thigh as you shuddered, "Have I been neglecting you pet? How inconsiderate of me. But I did warn you that it would be a busy week."

"But you seem tired," You mumbled, leaning in to start kissing up the line of his throat, your hands running up and down his chest, "You've been working so hard lately. Don't you think you've earned a break?"

"Kingdoms don't build themselves darling," Astarion shot back half-heartedly. But you both knew he was already sold. You had won the second you came into view, "But perhaps I could be convinced. Did you have something in mind?"

"Mm, I'm not sure," You said, like you weren't the one grinding your perfect ass against him like a whore, "But I'm sure we can think of something."

That was enough of the coy act. Astraion wretched your head back without warning, sinking his fangs into your neck. Perhaps you could have done with a warning, not that it would have mattered. He had earned the right to do with you as he pleased. You yelped at the unexpected pain but he could taste your arousal on his tongue, spiked through your blood. To this day it continued to be the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.

Astarion popped off of you with a smirk, near giddy at seeing that hazy look already in your eyes. He trailed bloody kisses up your throat, "Good girls ask for what they want, don't they? Unless you're looking for a punishment."

You were nearly panting as you writhed in his lap, frustrated desperation seeping into your voice when you begged, "Fuck me? Please?"

It was a good start, but Astarion knew that you could do better. He laughed, his voice rough as his fangs scraped against your delicate skin, "I think you can try harder than that, darling."

You were gripping at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you whimpered, "Please my love? I’ve missed you all day. Don’t make me wait any longer."

“Have I been neglecting you, my treasure?” Astarion murmured, his hand trailing down from your hair, moving to slip the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders. 

“You have,” You whined as he tugged on your dress, watching with rapt attention as he let it fall. He wasted no time in leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple; tasting you as you whimpered, “I-please Astarion. I need you inside me. It aches without you, I can’t take it. Please.”

Perfect words from perfect lips. That was the end of his manufactured patience. Astarion was already tearing your nightgown off completely, rendering it to tatters as he feasted on you with his eyes. He could buy you another, one in every color if you wished. But for now it was just in the way. 

He lifted you up onto the desk, ignoring your surprised gasp as you set you on the edge. His eyes were already narrowing downward, your cunt bare and glistening before him. 

Astarion ran his finger up the seam of it, grinning when he realized you were already dripping, “No panties tonight darling? Naughty girl."

"You don't like it?" You coyly asked as you worked to undo his belt, making quick work of getting his cock out, “I figured it was more economical to not let you tear apart everything I own.”

Astarion laughed as he spread your legs further apart, clever fingers working over your clit as you moaned, “Perhaps we should forget about clothing entirely then for you. It certainly would be more convenient.”

A complete bluff, one obvious enough to make you giggle. Though, it was a fun thought, one that Astarion would actually consider entertaining if he wasn’t so self-aware. No, it would take less than a day for him to rip out the eyes of the entire staff for seeing you like this, gorgeous, bare, and his. 

Your hands were shaking as you rubbed the head of him over your folds, your head thrown back as you moaned. He pushed into you hard and fast, groaning at how wonderfully soaked and tight you felt. There truly was nothing better. He gripped your hips, hard enough to bruise as you pulled you on and off his cock; your eyes rolling back into your head at the impressive display of strength. 

“T-Thank you, thank you,” You mewled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down closer, “Feels good. So good. Love you so much.”

Astarion couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling just as lovesick and obsessed as the day he made you his. There really was nothing better than this, making love to the brightest part of his soul. You clinging onto him for dear life as he fucked into you, completely uncaring for the books and papers he was spilling onto the floor. Whispering sweet nothings into his ear, your legs wrapped around him; always trying to pull him closer.  

He wasn’t going to last long like this. But he’d be damned if you didn’t reach your peak first. He snaked a hand between the two of you, roughly rubbing circles onto your clit before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. 

You gasped as he played with you, your pussy clenching around him as you came. It felt divine, the perfect sensation to tip him right over the edge, coming deeply inside you while he panted into your mouth.

"I love you," You whispered against his lips, your voice still slurring as your body twitched from the aftershocks, “Love you so much.”

You were running your fingers through his hair as you lazily kissed each other, holding him so closely that it made his heart sing. 

“I love you too pet,” Astarion murmured back, meaning every word, “More than you’ll ever know.”

"Tired now,” You sighed as your nails pleasantly scratched his scalp, “Carry me upstairs?"

Astarion was already hefting you into his arms before you could finish the question, tucking himself back into his pants before lifting you up completely, "Of course my love."

As he walked you upstairs, Astarion was struck with the realization that he could barely remember what he had been worried about in the first place. He smiled to himself as you cuddled against his chest, leaning in to press a light kiss to your hair. 

You always knew just what he needed.

[crazyk-imagine]

Old Faces, New Attitudes

Pairing: Otis Driftwood x Plus!size!reader

Characters: Plus!size!reader, Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly, Mama Firefly

Warnings: Is this family a warning?, mentions of murder and mayham, Otis likes thicc girls pass it on like crack cocaine, Otis is posessive, semi dark, first movie vibes, Otis is a narcissis, this family has issues and brings people into it, mentions of smut, Otis lowkey a simp for the reader bc why not, reader knows how to handle it, I mean him

Word Count: 871

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

You walk into the house and gently close the door behind you and walk by the kitchen, realizing you came in as they were starting to eat dinner.

You knew Spaulding sent you here, but you couldn't figure out why at this time. You roll your eyes and try to sneak by.

"Is that you, pumpkin?" Mama takes off her mask, "oh, you’re all wet."

"And, ruining the floors," mumbles Otis.

Baby pops up from her chair. "Join us for dinner." She hugs you, pulling you close. "Please, please, please."

You hold in a groan, not wanting to let her know you're annoyed.

She'll run with it and never shut up, another reason you liked playing with her as a child; she always kept you on your toes. "If I say yes, will you shut up?"

"Well, duh."

You sigh, "if you’ll excuse me. I have to change." You glance at everyone surrounding the table and look at the guests. "Enjoy dinner.” You mumble, “never know when it’s gonna be your last."

"What was that?" The snootiest one snaps at you.

You shrug, "nothing."

"Say it," the girl spits out, not realizing who she’s pissing off.

Mama and Baby take a step back, knowing its best to stay away in case you decide to snap.

You spin around and smile, “sweetie, pissy girls like you lose their boyfriends.”

“What did you just say?” She pushes herself up, the chair legs scraping along the floor, echoing throughout the room.

"Think about it.”

Mama clears her throat, "that's enough now, Pumpkin. Go change before you get cold."

You nod and ignore everyone as you run up the stairs with Baby trailing behind you.

She rummaged through her room, moving the dead cheerleaders so she could find the right clothes to wear. “Are you staying tonight?”

You shrug, “I don’t know yet.”

“I think you should, it's almost time you know.”

“Would it be such a big deal if I left?”

“Uh, yeah. Otis won’t shut up until you call.”

“I doubt that.”

“He wants you. I hear him when he’s trying to come up with a new creation. You’re his muse or some shit. It’d be cuter if he didn’t whine about you.” She throws a shirt in your direction. “You’re all he talks about.”

You start to unfold the shirt and stare at it. “Baby, your shirt is barely going to be able to cover one of my tits.”

She giggles, “I know, gotta show him what he’s missing.”

You push her out the door, “go down and finish dinner before that bitch meets her end.”

She throws her head back, letting the giggles escape as she skips down the stairs.

You sit down beside Otis and glance up to grab your mask when you notice one of them eyeing you. “My eyes are up here.”

The one with glasses turns red. “Oh- I-I wasn’t-”

“I don’t give a shit, don’t look.” You chuckle, “looks like your girlfriends aren't giving you enough attention.”

They shrink under your gaze, even more when their girlfriends start badgering them.

-

You lay on the couch, close to falling asleep when you sense someone else in the room.

“You plan on sleeping there tonight?” He asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

“Maybe.”

“My room’s cozier or whatever shit you girls are into.”

You open your eyes and tilt your head, “do I look like the type of girl who likes cozy?”

For the first time tonight, he smirks. “Hell no, now come on. I gotta show you something.”

You whine, snuggling into the blanket. “But I’m warm.”

He throws his hands up. “Fine, don’t come up. It’s not like I’m in the middle of God's work.”

You sigh and push yourself off the couch, “quite your fucking whining, I’m coming.” You push yourself off the couch and push him to the side.

“Where’d your pants go?”

You pause on the third step, towering over him. “I’m wearing shorts.”

“Those aren’t fucking shorts if your ass is hanging out.”

“My ass isn’t out,” you argue.

“Really, then what’s that?” He points to your shorts.

You glance down, trying to see what he’s seeing.

His hand grips your neck, pulling you close as he uses the surprise advantage, he has over you to stick his tongue in your mouth; his other hand sneaks around your waist as he grips your cheek before smacking it.

You moan into the kiss, placing your hand on his shoulder before sliding it down, slowly rubbing your hand over his growing tent.

He groans under his breath at your touch.

You back, tugging on his lip between your teeth before releasing it. “Someone’s missed me,” you tease.

“No fucking kidding, you’re the one who hasn’t been around to help me. Next time that knock off captain asks for help, tell him no.”

You playfully pout at him before gasping.

“And this,” he adds, sinking his nails into your other set of cheeks. “This feels like you’ve done something different, what changed?”

“I've been working on the ride with Spaulding more.”

“The fuck you been doing? Don't tell me you're fucking him too?” He leans in, lips close to your ear. “You're mine.”