#more and more i feel trapped in a really fucked up world. but nothing that a nap can't fix!!

[moonlightazriel]

Chapter 14: Into the lion's den /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Y/N enters Koschei's lair and finally confirms some suspicions

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Again mentions of trauma and grief.

Notes: I'm so glad that I have almost all the chapters written cuz my fingers are fucking useless now and I can't write 🙄

Main Masterlist

Worlds Apart Masterlist

The dark living room was immediately illuminated by faelights, papers scattered around the table, potions and a liquid simmering in a cauldron near the fire. She scrunched her nose at the rotten smell. A screeching, like a trapped creature sounded somewhere behind the closed doors that led to the basement, she shivered thinking what could be suffering in his hands. 

Drawings adorned the walls, receipts and terrifying creatures. Her breath hitched as she recognized the circle with wyrd marks used to summon the ridderak. This was even more scary than Baba Yellowleg’s tent, the Matron would send her there regularly to check on the older witch and her home always made her bones cold. 

“So..” He cleared his throat, those golden eyes turned to her direction, pinning her in place. “Tell me what. What troubles your heart?” He once again extended his hand and she quietly placed it onto his.

Mantyx almost gasped with the swirling of emotions that hit him when he touched her skin. Anger, hatred, pain, grief, pain was what burned brighter in that array of feelings that clouded her mind. He tried to take a look but he was met with a wall made of pure steel, unbreakable, unbendable and impenetrable. 

But another thing caught his attention, singing beautifully to no one hear, a mating bond stood, he had learned everything about it in the years he was trapped there. A bond shared by two people that was stronger than everything, once the bond was accepted nothing could break it. He tugged at the string lightly, watching closely as she startled, her free hand flying to her heart. She didn’t understand what this was. 

Near that cabin, a worried shadowsinger yelped in surprise as he felt a tug in his chest, like someone was pulling a string tied to his soul. Lucien looked at him with a raised eyebrow, asking him if he was alright. Azriel just shook his head, hand rubbing circles in his chest, in a soothing manner. His eyes focused back on the cabin door, he wanted to go there and kick it down, rescuing her but he knew he couldn’t.

“I see that you lost someone very important to you.” He pointed it out, going for the easiest approach, usually wasn’t hard to know what troubled people, they were too simple to read, always thinking they were good at hiding their emotions and thinking of him as a god for being able to read them like a cooking book. 

“I lost everything.” She quietly replied, Y/N never really opened up to anyone after the war, just brushing their concerns off and focusing on her work to suffocate those drowning feelings. “I lost my sister, the only person that truly loved me, I couldn't even say goodbye. I lost my way, I lost myself after she was gone, and I don't think I'll ever be able to go back to what I was.” 

Mantyx looked at her, the despair pungent on the tip of his tongue. The shadows in her eyes darkened as she frowned, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. He took a deep breath, feeling all of her negative emotions fill the void in his chest, he had to suppress a smirk at it, he fed from negative emotions, draining them and leaving the person numb. 

“You can’t ever go back, all you can do is keep  going and adapt to the change.” He offered and she scoffed. 

“I would give anything, do anything to get her back.” Mantyx approached her. It was like the light couldn’t reach it, being sucked into a black hole, not reflecting. If it wasn’t for his proximity she wouldn't even have noticed. 

But there it was, resting with an unsettling melody, the wyrd key that opened the gate atop Ramiel, what she needed to get home. She couldn't risk getting it just now, or else he would kill her and all of their efforts would be useless. 

“What if I told you that I can bring her back?” He offered and her eyes lifted from the key to his gold orbs. She never knew about the extent of the other Kings powers, if Erawan was that powerful she imagined how powerful Mantyx and Orcus would be.

“You can do it?” She inquired, doubt  started to coat her thoughts, she missed Asterin, what if she could see her one last time, or even better, get her back fully? 

“You just need to do me a simple favor in return.” She closed her eyes, that was the only way. She shook her head in agreement. 

“What do you need?” She opened her eyes, determination burning in that gaze. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Bring me Nesta Archeron.” He said and she nodded, Mantyx smiled. His hand extended towards the door that slowly opened to reveal the green island he lived in. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”

Y/N bowed to him, her eyes tracing the key that moved up and down with each breath he gave. She turned around, slowly walking outside, she could still feel his eyes on her when she crossed the bridge, so she didn’t dare to look to where she knew they would be, she kept walking forward until her frame disappeared from his line of sight. Just then she let out the breath she was holding. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel and the others reached her halfway back to the Manor, she hadn't even noticed she had walked so much, her tensed muscles and shivering body were the only indications of the fear she had felt alone in that cabin. Azriel touched her arm, making her spin in her heels, collapsing against his chest. Shuddering breaths left her lips as she tried to calm herself. 

“Did he hurt you?” She shook her head and Azriel breathed with relief, his shadows moved around her in a protecting way, ready to strike at anyone who dared get too close to her. 

“We should go back, we don’t know what is lurking around in those woods.” Lucien advised, also worried about the fragile form that clung to Azriel for dear life. 

They all started to head back, being surprised by the giant wyvern baring his teeth at them, poison dripping from his fangs, he looked anxious, like he felt all of her distress through the connection he shared with his rider, and by the way she pushed Azriel out of the way, stumbling until her chest and forehead were pressed against his nose, he probably felt. 

Meraxes instantly relaxed with her touch, sniffing her scent and declaring she was alright. Y/N sobbed against him, her hands rubbing his leathery skin up and down, until she calmed herself down. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” She breathed and the wyvern nodded, giving one last look to the males before stepping aside and allowing their access to the house. She let go of him, following the rest of them inside, plopping herself on the couch. 

“Why did you go inside? You could be dead now.” Lucien slowly started, worry filled his voice, Y/N had become someone important to him and he couldn’t fathom the idea of her being killed by that damned monster. 

“We needed answers.” She simply replied, shrugging. 

“And did you get them?” Jurian asked, leaning against the wall that led to the kitchen. 

“His name is Mantyx, the middle brother of Erawan and Orcus, a Valg King.” She started, all of the males looked at her. “He was the one who summoned the ridderak that attacked me, he was after Nesta and her powers.”

“Does he have a key?” Azriel asked, his eyebrows furrowed as the engines in his brain worked.

“He carries it around his neck.” Lucien cursed loudly, how would they get it? 

“How did you get out?” Jurian once again asked all the right questions.

“I promised him that I would get Nesta.” Azriel's eyes widened. “I just needed to get out to tell you all this, chill.” She said to him, her blue eyes piercing him back in place and he didn’t dare to argue. 

“What do we do now?” Lucien inquired, rubbing his temples.

“I don’t know about you, but i’ll have a bath, i’m feeling disgusting.” She said getting up, leaving the males behind her. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her chest ached as she sat in the scalding water, trying to rub all those feelings away from her, but it was useless. She then reached for the book Morrigan had found in the Hewn City, not having time to read it in the trip until now. She opened the book and focused on the fancy handwriting, allowing her brain to shut down from the real world and just pay attention to the words in those pages. 

“It was during the night that he came, talking with a sweet voice, promises of a better world and absolution to those who bowed to him and allowed his angels a home. The god of conquest was how they called him. 

He brought her, with dark hair and dark eyes, she feeded from life and used the remains to build weapons made of human bones. They called her The Weaver, and her twin, The Bone Carver, one more terrifying than the other. They weren’t angels, they were the gods of death, draining life from the earth and eating our souls. 

They talked about how lucky we were, claiming to be princes and princesses from their homeworld. No one knew how they came or where they came from, but all we knew was that it was all related to that necklace, made of a dark stone and with an unknown shape. They had come from the north, many guessed they were a plague sent by the Night Court to terrorise us, but even the High Lord feared them, he couldn't control them, no one could, so they took what they pleased. 

It was Celeste Vanserra, the Fireborn that brought us hope, the most powerful fire carrier the world has ever seen. She locked The Bone Carver with the help of the cauldron in the prison first. This made the fae wars easier, but their army was too big to be brought down, so they had to change their strategy. 

Divide and conquest is what they called it. They managed to separate The Weaver, and once again, with the help of the cauldron, Celeste and her fire locked Stryga in the woods, in a cabin no one dared to get close to. Whenever a general fell, their army fell with them. 

The High Lords followed Celeste to the battlefield, following her command and doing what she said. The final battle was in the lake, where Celeste used her powers to create a fire circle around Koschei and his monsters, trapping him inside, not knowing this was his biggest weakness, her fire was the only thing that could kill him. But before Celeste could, he killed her, piercing her heart with a sword.

The High Lords seeing their strongest fall, decided that they weren’t enough to kill Koschei, so they used the cauldron imbued by their powers to trap his soul to the island. As long as this world still exists, Koschei cannot be killed, his soul is bound to the Earth itself. Only the power of the cauldron or the fire of Celeste can free him from his prison and finally kill him.

With their failure to end the biggest threat our world has ever seen, they erased Celeste’s name from history. If no one remembered her, no one would remember how weak they were compared to Koschei. But her fire was still alive in the blood of her offspring, and the family Vanserra is the closest we have to a chance of killing him, unfortunately those who don’t learn their history tend to repeat it.”

Y/N gasped, the water already cold as she discarded the book and jumped out of the tub, opening the door to her and Azriel’s room. He sat on the bed, eyeing her up and down, following the droplets of water that ran down her curves, but her sombre expression brought his eyes back to her face, ignoring the temptation of looking down.

“What happened?” He asked and she took a deep breath.

“I know how to kill him.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

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[prinsomnia]

smitten 🦋

[mothocean]

i am, really just fucking hoping theres gonna be more safety regulations around this kind of stuff now. and that the greek coast guard gets fucking sued. also that the submersible company gets sued. and nothing like any of these things happens ever again

[fortheloveofleon]

BABY FEVER

⊱ Pairing: Yandere!Miguel x Reader

⊱ Summary: Miguel misses the joys of being a father. He just wants you to understand the happiness a child can bring — even if he has to make you…

⊱ Contents: 18+, Yandere!Miguel, Mean!Miguel, Dark Content, Baby Trapping, Dubious Consent, Smut, BDSM (Bondage), Rough Sex, Choking, Breeding Kink, Blood Kink, Creampie, Slight Hint to a Mommy Kink At The End

You’re laid up on this lavish bed, sore hands clasped above your head in a pair of metal handcuffs. The tough material is etching into your skin, chafing and nipping each time Miguel thrusts into you.

“‘Guel,” you slur out his name, a shuddery breath escaping as he grinds into you harder, “s’ too much, I-I’m sorry.”

An angry mess towering over you, Miguel scowls at your pathetic begging. Silent but seething, the taller man merely runs his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, panting as he reaches down to grasp your face with his large hand.

Eyes locking with yours, Miguel draws his slick-stained cock all the way out of your tight cunt, just until his tip remains — then he pushes back in, hard and fast, earning a loud cry from you.

The mix of hurt and pleasure is a dangerous one, a welcomed warning that hums through your body as his speed of his thrusts pick up again.

Miguel doesn’t really care that he might be hurting you right now — quite frankly, he’s hoping you were in a bit of pain.

You deserved it.

You were such a slut, throwing yourself at all the other guys at Headquarters. He should’ve known better than to let other men get that close to you.

But of course — Miguel was insane, and delusional.

You had nothing done nothing of the sort, but only made the innocent mistake at smiling. A mere smile at Peter whilst playing with Mayday was enough to drive Miguel to this state.

He’s always been protective, obsessive, Miguel can’t even deny it.

“Ungrateful. Fucking. Whore,” he hisses, each word enunciated with a heavy surge of his hips — white fangs are bared as he leans in closer to you, breathing out a laugh at your dazed form. Tough hands find a home around your neck, clutching.

The grip is a reminder, a threat of what could always happen.

But it’s for your own good. How could a sweet girl like you survive in a big, bad world like this without him?

Your fingers grasp helplessly at his forearms as black dots speckle your vision. Eyes rolling back into your head, hiccuped moans pulse from you as his shaft slams in and out of you.

“I’m…” you choke out as a familiar syrupy warmth begins to tremor from your lower half, “I-I’m gonna…”

Your sentence is incomplete, stuttering to a close, yet it’s whole to Miguel — he knows what you need. You’re merely a finger stroke away from cumming your fucking brains out.

Miguel latches his mouth onto the side of your bruising neck, sharpness pinching your skin when he finally bites down. A sickening blend of pain and euphoria surges through you.

It’s like you hit Cloud Nine — you’re panting, whimpering, back arching and cunt clenching as your orgasm builds and breaks. Sweet, sweet ecstasy fills every ounce of you, and you can feel it so hard, it’s like you’re choking more from the pleasure than his palms.

A tangy metallic taste coats Miguel’s tongue and he can’t help but moan out with you at the taste. “Ha…mi corazón…”

A throaty chuckle vibrates against your skin as Miguel suckles at the bleeding marks, lips leading to press wet kisses. His thrusts have grown sloppy, greedy as he wants to find his own end.

The length of his cock is barely leaving your cunt, hips rolling rapidly with little rhythm as he grunts and groans.

All he wants is you.

The feeling of his body on yours snaps you of your daze as a daunting realisation comes to mind.

“Wait!” you rasp out, jiggling the cuffs above your head. “Guel, y-you need to pull out.”

Chest heaving, Miguel pauses, cock still buried deep inside you. Posted above, caging you in between his forearms, wordlessly questioning you.

“You’re not…you’re not wearing a condom,” you breathe out quietly, carefully. “You need to pull out.”

Miguel is silent, staring.

His fingers slowly brush away the damp hairs sticking to your face, rubbing his thumb over your plump lips, almost like he’s trying to remember it’s shape through touch alone.

If love had a taste, he thinks, it would be your mouth.

He kisses you, soft and gentle, and you can’t help but melt. Pulling away, Miguel cups your jaw. A ghost of a smile lingers, but refuses to show.

Sometimes, Miguel tries to consider the lengths of his obsession with you — where it stemmed from, how it started. He could never find a straight answer. But there was one undeniable truth.

Miguel is irrevocably in love with you.

He’d only accept death if you were the one holding that knife.

Miguel is in love. But he can’t say it. The last time he showed he was capable of loving something, the universe took it from him.

But he didn’t need to say anything… he could show you.

His voice is low as he shakes his head and speaks, eyes boring into yours. “You, are going to make a great mother.”

And God, the way your eyes widened could’ve killed him right there.

Without warning, he drives into your heat faster than ever, frantic and filled with a purpose once more.

“Miguel, please wait!” you whimper out.

The headboard bangs and creaks, slamming against the wall as fucks you faster than before. Every nerve of yours is aflame, overstimulated from the wave of your orgasm. Your mouth is agape, eyes tearing and Miguel only looks down with hooded eyes, smirking before a chuckle breaks from his throat.

“You’re mine,” he hisses out, hands groping your hips, plunging his cock deeper.

Miguel’s laughter mixes into a moan, soft but spiteful, filling and fucking you until he slams into you one final time, choked groans unravelling as he finally spills into you.

You twitch beneath him in that moment, legs shaking. He shifts, steadying himself so he doesn’t crush you beneath his weight. A few silent seconds pass, filled only with the sounds of your heavy breathing.

Like a cat, Miguel nuzzles into your neck, nipping at your skin before unclasping the cuffs, throwing the metal away. Heavy arms snake around your body, holding you captive once more. He kisses your neck.

“So,” he breathes out, “did I make you feel good…mommy?”

[bas-writes]

50 Smutty Fics Ideas

Made this for an event I haven't run in the end, but it'd be a pity to keep them hidden. I hope they'll help your creativity flow!

A and B are hiding together in a tight place, their bodies pressed close. With adrenaline running in their veins, the situation eventually gets out of control.

A and B are dancing what eventually leads to a slow, intimate dance. A gets aroused from B pressing close to them.

A has an obvious crush on B and plans to finally confess. A chickens out and tries to opt out of the situation, but B presses them to speak in a spicy way.

A is tied to an altar as a sacrifice to demon!B. More than taking their life, B is interested in taking their body.

During a visit in a sex shop A spots a weird toy. B suggests purchase as a joke. Little do they know A seriously wants to use it.

A and B are friends with benefits. A's feelings turn out to be genuine, but they don't want to ruin the balance, so they keep it to themself…until they accidentally slip a confession during sex.

A is really into a specific body type/body part and B's body looks as if taken straight out of A's fantasy. A can't hold it anymore and reveals how much B turns them on.

A and B are on a motorcycle trip. The constant movement, vibration and touching is getting them excited.

A walks on B changing. It's the first time they see them naked, and they can't peel their eyes off them.

A survives a near miss. B, worried and scared to death, doesn't want to leave their side since then.

A and B need to share bed due to circumstances. They wake up in each other's arms and it awakens something in them.

A goes down on B. B wears nothing but stockings. At some point A starts tearing them out of the way with their teeth.

A loves B's scent but they keep it secret. One day B catches A masturbating while sniffing a piece of their clothing.

The way A moans "I love you" turns B absolutely feral.

A tries to get B jealous as a part of their flirting game. B snaps way harder then A predicted.

A and B are in a dom-sub relationship. A breaks a rule and B has to again teach them how to be a good sub.

A is less experienced in kink than B. B introduces them to the world of kink with their favorite one.

A gets extra loud during sex so B has to cover their lips. Limited oxygen/fingers in mouth insanely turn A on.

A and B meet for what's not supposed to be a romantic date - but they feel so good around each other, it's suddenly 2am, and they don't really want to part. A proposes B to move the meeting to their place.

A is arguing with B. They truly can't decide whether they want to kill or fuck B more.

That was supposed to be just a make out session, but A kisses so good that B gets impossibly aroused.

A and B are about to face a dangerous situation. They want to enjoy life before it might be too late.

A celebrates a great success with B. Drinks and festive atmosphere quickly turn the matters spicy.

It's A's birthday and they find B tied to bed in nothing but very revealing lingerie.

After a soul-draining break up, A wants to get rid of remaining grief & enter a new path of life with a bang: they contact B, a professional dom.

A and B realize they are being watched during sex. They don't intend to stop.

A is in a middle of meeting when they receive a message B. It's a very explicit nude.

A puts a blade by B's throat, be it seriously or as a joke/teasing. B's reaction is…enthusiastic.

A's hands seriously distract B. Their reactions eventually clue A in: and they decide to use the new knowledge to their favor.

A and B get trapped in one small space and need to wait for emergency. If only there was a way to kill the boredom…

A uses a sexual favor to convince B to do something.

A suffers from pent-up stress and frustration. B offers their body for them to use to get rid of negative emotions.

During soft, vanilla sex A asks B to try something different/rougher.

A shoves B against the wall. Now, once they are so close, A can't stop looking at B's face/lips/body part of choice.

A has lips/tongue/nipples/genitals pierced. B is really curious how does it feel during sex.

A rolls sleeves up/takes shirt off, revealing body hair to B. B has no idea how to act normal around A anymore.

A is usually reserved when it comes to intimacy and emotions. When in public, B does something that breaks A. A pulls B close and whispers to them: "I need you. Now."

A is preparing themself to roll with their day. B walks on them wearing nothing but their shirt.

A tends to neglect their needs. B uses kink as a way of taking care of them.

It's unbearably hot and A switches to wearing short and fine dresses. B finds out they are wearing no underwear underneath.

A has a really big dick/strap, B struggles to take it. A taunts and teases them about it.

Good cock & bad cock routine with dom!A, dom!B and sub!C. A praises C while B degrades and taunts them.

A and B are in a dedicated but open relationship. C grabs their mutual interest.

A loses a bet and now has to do what B tells them.

A, B, C (and maybe more 🤭) running a train on D.

A has a dark/unusual sexual fantasy & they bring it up to their partner, B. B agrees to try it out.

After a longer break A is so needy for sex that they can't enough of B. B is a trembling, ruined mess, but A just keeps going.

A is filthy rich & B is their sugar baby. A pays B a ridiculous amount of money to try a kinky scenario out.

A is a virgin but also very curious about a certain kink. B does their best to let them try it in a safe and satisfying way.

Wedding night between A and B takes an extra spicy turn.

Please, reblog and/or credit, when you use (but don't @ me!). The divider made by @/saradika.

[hopesworlld]

౨ৎ only you, my girl, only you, babe

౨ৎ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — jealous!anakin x fem!reader

౨ৎ 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 — you can't leave anakin, you just can't, he won't survive it

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 — 1k

౨ৎ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — swearing, jealous!ani, arguing, crying, using sex as a means to make up, smut ( dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, mentions of oral f receiving ) think that’s all !

౨ৎ 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 ! — he's so whiny, i want him

part two part three masterlist

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"baby, please, just tell me what you were doing talking to him," anakin pleaded, his face tight with tension as he followed you though your shared apartment.

"ani, he's my friend i've known him since uni," you groaned, entering your bedroom, "we literally lived together for three years why are you being like this?" you questioned, turning to face him with narrowed eyes, watching as anakin's face dropped, he pinched the bridge of his nose, glasses sliding down as he pouted at you.

“i saw how he looked at you, how he hugged you…” he said and you shook your head, frustration welling in your chest as you watched anakin’s hands twitch, lips trembling.

“oh my god, anakin, he literally just hugged me, we are good friends you are being ridiculous,” you told him, turning around and walking over to your wardrobe, pulling out some more comfortable clothes to wear around the house, you loved anakin with every fiber of your being, but you couldn’t help but feel trapped when he got like this, so possessive and needy, acting as though everyone in the world was against him.

“baby, you know i’m not mad at you,” anakin began but you span around, eyes hard and voice like ice as you spoke to him.

“you’re not?” you spat, “oh, you aren’t mad at me for absolutely nothing? well thank you, anakin, i really fucking appreciate it,” anakin’s eyes went glassy, sniffling wetly, gaze falling to his feet.

“baby, i’m sorry,” anakin whimpered, tears rolling down his golden cheeks, “please don’t be mad at me,” he begged but you simply ignored him, you felt bad, you always did when anakin cried, he was such a sensitive soul, so desperate for approval, for your love, he had never felt like enough, never felt that he deserved you and it made your heartache but you couldn't keep feeding into his jealousy.

you went about doing what you were doing, tugging your shirt off and replacing it with a soft t-shirt, an old one you had, had since you were a teenager belonging to your father, before tugging down your skirt and slipping on a pair of shorts, the motions were soothing to you as you listened to anakin cry, something to distract yourself.

“baby,” anakin whined, “don’t ignore me, please, please, talk to me,” he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, burning his wet face into your neck, “i love you, i love you so much, please don’t ignore me,” you sighed, relaxing slightly in his hold. “baby?” he whispered, planting butterfly kisses along the side of your neck, paying extra attention to your sweet spot just bellow your jaw.

“ani,” you said gently, “you can’t keep doing this,” you scolded lightly, heart clenching when anakin sniffled, clinging to you tighter, arms a secure weight around your hips.

“i know, baby, i’m so so sorry, i don’t wanna hurt you, please, just don’t leave me,” he begged and you could feel his cock hardening against your back as he began to grind on you, short little thrusts that brought a swell of heat into your stomach.

“ani,” you sighed, “i’m not gonna leave you, angel, you just need to stop getting so upset every time i talk to another guy, i only want you,” you told him and anakin melted.

“yea?” he asked you, beginning to grind against you harder, little gasps falling from his lips, “only me?” he whispered.

“yes, ani, you i promise,” you said, a small groan escaping you when anakin pressed himself harder against you, cock brushing against your clothed cunt, “fuck, ani,”

“am i making you feel good, baby? tell me, baby, do you like it?” he asked, rutting harder against you, exhaling harshly against the back of your neck, he was still whimpering, tears flooding down his cheeks as he pleaded with you.

“yes, so good, ani,” you promised him as he began to tug at your shorts with needy hands, pulling them down along with your panties exposing you cunt to the cold air, you shuddered but it wasn’t long before anakin was sinking his fingers into your sopping heat, opening you up for him. you hissed at the sensation, cocking your hips back against him.

“i’m the only one that can make you feel like this,” anakin said, “only me, promise me,” he begged, thrusting his fingers harsher, and you moaned at the stimulation tilting you head back to rest on anakin’s shoulder.

“i promise, angel, only you can make me feel this good,” you stammered out and anakin sobbed, you heard him shuffling behind you, pulling his cock free from his jeans, he hardly gave you a second to think before he was tugging his fingers from your pussy and replacing them with his cock, he didn’t give you time to adjust, thrusting into you harshly, groaning at the feeling of your cunt cleanching around his throbbing cock.

“baby, oh fuck, feel so good wrapped around me,” anakin told you, gently pressing at your back so that you were bent over, one hand secured around your waist holding you in place while the other was holding you down, you hissed at the new position, the angle allowing anakin to sink deeper into you, cock head brushing against your cervix.

“fuck, ani, just like that,” you praised and anakin’s hips jolted, “doing so good for me, just like that,” you said, eyes fluttering shut as anakin continued to fuck into you with needy whines, chasing his relief as well as yours, one of your hands fell to your clit, swirling your index finger around the bundle of nerves in a figure eight pattern, you knew anakin wouldn’t last long when he was worked up like this this and it would break him if you didn’t cum, last time that had happened he had eaten you out until you were sobbing, tears streaming down your cheeks and hips shaking with overstimulation.

“fuck, baby, so wet,” anakin said, “god, this pussy was made for me, we fit so good together,” anakin told you, “no one else could get your pussy this wet, make you feel so good,” his words were becoming mindless blabber as he drew closer to his orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside of you, “mine, all mine,” he said, and you nodded along, mind becoming fuzzy from pleasure.

“yours, ani, all your’s,” you promised, cunt cleanching as you drew closer, the sensation of anakin pumping deep inside if you and the stimulation on your clit enough to send you over the edge.

“yes, yes, fuck, never leave me, never ever, never,” anakin commanded though his voice was squeaky, high pitched as you felt his hips stutter, “i’m gonna cum,” he cried out.

“that’s it, come for me, ani, wanna feel you cum, angel, fill me up,” you told him breathily, thrusting you hips back to meet him and anakin was gone, his thrusts were erratic before he spilled into your pussy, filling you up with his seed. you moaned, the feeling of his hot cum flooding your insides enough to send you spiralling, a scream falling from your lips as you clenched around anakin’s cock, milking him of every last drop before going lax in his hold.

“i love you,” anakin whispered, “i love you so much,”

“i love you too, ani,” you replied, letting him tug you towards the bed, collapsing down together in a mess of limbs.

“don’t ever leave me, okay?” anakin said, and you nodded.

“never, i’m yours,” you promised.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

i kinda hate this but i wanted to write some whiny ani so hope you enjoyed !

tags: @johnbassplayercutie

[makeyoumine69]

Being Bateman's Tradwife | NSFW HEADCANON

Pairing: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader; CW: SMUT, Romance and mostly Fluff. Links: [MASTERLIST]; Song Rec: Isabel LaRosa — i'm yours; A/N: This is dedicated to @batemans-malewife, I hope you like it, my dear friend! 💗 If you find any mistakes regarding gn!reader, please let me know.

At first, the whole idea of being a tradwife made you nervous, especially when Patrick insisted that you quit your job and let him take care of all aspects of your life; not to mention his complex personality and unhealthy perfectionism in almost...everything?

But then, when you finally decided to give it a try, the hurricane of domestic life consumed you faster than you could imagine, and you didn't notice how you got used to making him breakfast in the morning before he went to work.

Bateman would watch you float around his modern kitchen like a fairy, wearing something neat and tight that would make him hard even after the morning sex you had a few moments ago; his hazel eyes would peer over the Times he was reading, not missing a sway of your delicious hips. And when Patrick would trap you between his massive frame and the kitchen counter, you would just gasp and smile innocently, pretending you were not seducing him all this time.

Romance. Oh, sometimes Bateman could be such an old-fashioned romantic, who loved to give you flowers, lingerie and various other gifts because he wanted nothing more than to make his dear wife happy; although his generosity was charming, there were moments when you found it embarrassing, particularly when Patrick took you to Tiffany & Co. and asked you to pick out any jewelry you liked. After all, Bateman enjoyed spoiling you because he COULD afford it.

Living under the same roof as Bateman meant being ready to be caught by him anywhere — even if you were just going to take a shower, this man would catch you there too, hugging you from behind and pressing your wet body against his strong one, kissing your neck while his hard length rubbed between your legs, turning you both to the point of no return when your single moan was enough to ignite his desire.

"Mmhhm-Patrick..." The way you called out his name drove him absolutely crazy, especially with your eyes closed like that, Bateman couldn't resist it.

"Fuck, you look so cute like that," he purred in your ear before tugging gently on your hair to make you arch your back. "Spread your legs wider, yeah, just like that," his praise was sweet as honey, warming your heart and inducing you to forget how to breathe. "Uh, such an obedient little Bunny."

The way his thick cock brushed over your ass would set your body on fire, his tight embrace would make you feel so small and fragile but at the same time so protected and cherished; it was the best feeling in the world to be held in the arms of your beloved man.

Hot and bothered, Bateman would nip at your shoulder blade and give himself a few hard strokes before leisurely pushing himself into your tight hole, relishing the way you clung to his brawny biceps and gasping at how perfectly he was stretching you from the inside out.

"Mmm-so good, you feel so fucking good," his low groan echoed off the shower walls, mingling with the sound of the flowing water. "Relax, honey, I got you."

And he really meant it when he said those words. 

Every time you had sex and Patrick saw you struggling to take his huge dick, he would soothe you, but never stop ramming into your malleable flesh, forcing your legs to shake and your throat to spasm in lewd whimpers.

This man was everything to you, and you were everything to him.

Waking each other up by giving oral pleasure would become your favorite ritual that would help you unleash your carnal desires, because there was nothing shameful about making the person you loved feel as good as possible.

Bateman's breath would hitch at the touch of your wet tongue on his swollen tip as you lapped at it like a curious kitten, your coy ministrations would amuse him but at the same time they would be the most powerful fuel for his arousal.

On top of that, there would be evenings of watching his favorite slasher movies, which would turn into something spicy as soon as you snuggled up against his broad chest, seeking protection because you were scared. Patrick would make you sit on his lap and kiss you so passionately that you would moan into his mouth, spurring him on to use his hands more brazenly, squeezing your ass and hips without shame.

And if you were jealous, he wouldn't punish you for it, no. It would boost his ego for sure, but he would do his best to show you that you are the only one he desires at all costs. Bateman would worship every little part of your body or fuck you senseless if it would help demolish any silly thoughts about you not deserving him.

"Baby, look at me," Patrick mused, cupping your sad face in his big palms. "I want you to remember what I'm about to say."

Lowering your head, you closed your eyes for a second before finally daring to look into his dark ones. "I'm sorry to bring this up again. It's just..."

"Shhh, (y/n,) listen," his voice became even more affectionate after your words. "You are my darling, my beautiful wife. I chose you and I don't need anyone else," Bateman's hand slowly traced your cheek, wiping away your shimmering tears. "Because I've found myself in you."

To prove his words, the man sealed your lips with a kiss full of love and tenderness, constantly caressing your face and holding you close.

The two of you wouldn't even remember how long you stayed like that on the Manhattan Bridge, hugging each other so tightly as if you were two magnets. Even if the whole world was against you, you would always have each other, and that was the only thing that mattered.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[impishjesters]

Jax x Reader w/depression/suicidal tendencies

warning(s): mentions of depression/suicidal behavior/tendencies, nothing graphic though, mentions of morbid/dark humor note: it's only mentioned that he has feelings for you, whether romantic or platonic is left up to the reader. A/N: I think this is the fastest I've ever wanted to write for something utterly new to me, usually it takes a while of being into a series or liking a character to wanna write something. This was...less than twelve hours? This was probably the most self-indulgent thing I've written in a while.

Nobody was safe from Jax’s pranks, including you—regardless of how much he found himself gradually enjoying your company.

It’s actually a right of passage at this point that every new person (as rare as it is) who shows up is subjected to some awful prank to gauge just how much of an easy or difficult target they’ll be.

You handle the pranks with ease. Sure it can be annoying, but there’s little that can seemingly “kill” you here.

Which is a shame really—well, only slightly.

Your therapist would’ve probably found it a good thing, trying to off yourself in a digital world where sleeping and eating were no longer required likely meant the inability to die.

Not in a traditional sense anyway.

You’re the only one ballsy enough to prank Jax back, which isn’t easy but when a prank is successful? Oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction.

There’s an unspoken prank war back and forth, but typically the other’s are the subject of your guys’ pranks. Somehow it feels more rewarding with the joint effort.

It's not often, but sometimes Jax's pranks will go a step too far and trigger something unpleasant. He's not really sure why you just walk off like that, those pranks don't make him feel as satisfied for whatever reason.

Once a special type of friendship grows between the two of you, the pranks lessen—not entirely though—nah he loves the unsuspecting reactions of a prank you didn’t see coming.

The pranks become less hostile and more casual—he’s got a reputation to keep after all, regardless of how he feels about you.

The initial reaction to someone being told there was no way out was to panic, you however, didn’t..well not outright. Your initial reaction is dark humor—even with the whole censorship thing.

Ragatha is the only one initially disturbed/worried over your dark sense of humor, which should be expected from one of them since they’ve been there longer.

Jax is aware of your morbid sense of humor and often plays along with it, especially in the beginning—later in the friendship though? Yeah, there’s no noticeable physical change, but he’s only a tad worried.

When not tormenting the other’s Jax stuck with you, or vice versa.

After the attempted drowning and standing (willingly) in harm’s way of one (or three) of the rides, Jax keeps your bedroom key closer in hand than the others.

And honestly? Ragatha doesn’t even blame him. You aren’t distant from them, but you do tend to favour Jax’s company. Regardless of her feelings about him as a person, it becomes obvious that he feels something less hostile towards you compared to them.

It takes a while before you finally confess to Jax that prior to being trapped in this digital hell, you were medicated for depression/suicidal tendencies. And while the digital world took away things like needing sleep and food, it didn’t get rid of the thoughts or urges.

Now—had this been someone else telling him all this? He’d be very uncaring and probably make a nasty “joke”, but because it’s you? He’s treading into foreign territory here when it comes to emotions.

There’s not really anything he can say that would make you feel better, but he does show a more rare tender side, offering to be there whenever you need him. Just to backpedal like a tsundere and say that he won’t always be free ( a lie, the fuck else does he have to do?), but he’ll try and make time for you during those moments.

He doesn’t do some pinky promise bullshit, I mean he can and would, but he doesn’t expect his offer and attempts to do that much (words of promise aren’t on the same level as a prescription drug after all).

But if being around his rude ass self and doing the occasional nice *gag* gestures of like, hugging or whatever helps you, he’ll do it—just, not with others around obviously. Again, man has a reputation.

From then on Jax is more aware of where you are around him at all times, not in a suffocating way though. Well, not intentionally, he has his moments. But he’s trying, again this is new territory for him.

Jax makes it his unspoken, personal goal to make sure you don’t tread the line of becoming abstracted.

Bonus (fluff)

Jax will make an attempt not to immediately recoil from your touch when others are present.

I’m not talking “Whoops, sorry to bump into you”, I’m talking about grabbing onto his arm or being in his personal bubble because you need something grounding or whatever.

More often than none his immediate reaction is to just use you to lean on, elbow or arm resting on top of your head to give you some contact and pressure. (He does it out of habit even when you don't need it.)

Sure he probably looks like an ass to others, but after a while, they sort of just get used to it since you never bring up being offended by the act.

But in private? Yeah, sure shoot, just don’t expect him to put any effort into returning anything. Maybe the drape of an arm or his legs, but if it’s really bad? He’ll lay or sit there while you cling to him like a koala.

Jax actually finds it kinda funny how tightly you hold on whenever he gets up.

“Wow, you really holdin’ on there.”

[freedomfireflies]

Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun pt. 2*

Summary: The sequel to Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

You find yourself sat next to the Harry Styles on a plane.

And what better way to get to know each other than a quick induction into the Mile High Club?

Word Count: 2.1k

(Thank you for letting me spam you guys for one whole year🥹💞 I love you!!!!!)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Hi, Stranger.”

Harry grins as he pulls the small door shut, secluding the two of you in the world’s smallest bathroom. “Hi.”

“Gonna be honest, I didn’t expect you to show,” you admit.

“Oh?” His arms cross as he takes a step closer, effectively closing the only gap between you. “And what about our earlier conversation suggested I wouldn’t?”

“Well, maybe the fact that you’re all talk and no game,” you retort, eyebrow raised as you look up at him. “Or the fact that you don’t seem like the quick-airplane-bathroom-fuck type.”

“I have a song about eating pussy, is that not enough?” he teases, a smirk dancing across his lips. “I feel like that should solidify my case.”

“Yeah, you’d think…but no.” Your eyes trail across his jaw, drawn to the sharp curve, intrigued by the subtle beauty. “Maybe if this were the first-class bathroom. Which would make a lot more sense for you.”

“What’s wrong with coach?”

“Nothing. When you’re poor. Which you’re not.”

“And that has to do with us fucking…how?”

You hesitate, mouth clamping shut. “I…don’t know.”

Nodding with an amused grin, he reaches out to place his hand on the small sink and lean forward, trapping you to the wall. “I think you’re nervous.”

“Well no shit, Sherlock.”

He hums, kind eyes helping to relax you. “Guess we’re both more talk than game.”

And maybe you are. Maybe this is nothing more than you calling his bluff. Or calling your own. Maybe this was you getting swept up in the idea of Harry Styles. The man, the myth, the legend. Maybe you just wanted to prove to yourself that you could.

Either way, despite the nerves, you’re oddly tantalized by the idea. Wanting to seize the moment, the opportunity that most people would kill for.

So, you surge forward, and press your lips to his.

It’s a hesitant kiss. On both ends. The first few seconds a tad awkward as you work to wrap your heads around how you got here. How you really feel about it.

And then…something changes.

He steps closer, straightening up to deepen the kiss, and you nearly wilt when his large hand slips around the back of your neck to keep you against him.

Things suddenly feel effortless. Practiced yet relaxed. Mouths and tongues moving together like they were always meant to. Molding seamlessly until all of your air belongs to him.

His other hand finds a home on your hip, pushing you against the small bathroom wall while his knee takes its place between your thighs.

And when he finally pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, it feels as though everything makes sense.

“We can go back to our seats,” he whispers, giving you an out.

But you don’t want an out. 

“No,” you murmur, fingers tangling in the shirt on his chest. “No, you promised to make me scream your name. Can’t pussy out on me now.”

The smirk returns as he brushes his thumb along your cheek. “So I did. But I guess it depends on which name you call me by.”

Your breath hitches.

“You can call me Harry,” he begins softly, dipping back down to ghost his lips across yours, “or you can call me Daddy.”

And discovering that Harry Styles has a Daddy kink makes more sense than it should, and you have to grin as you press your mouth to his. 

“Okay, Daddy,” you agree, just to watch him swallow. “Then why don’t you make good on your promise to fuck me?”

You watch the most beautifully dark expression flash across his face before he’s grabbing onto your waist to spin you around.

Your cheek is pressed to the wall while those large hands that have been taunting you for the past half hour begin to tease you again. Crawling up the inside of your thigh until he can grab onto the waistband of your jeans and yank the material down your legs.

“Just so you know,” he grunts in between the rustling of his belt, “I’m normally pro-foreplay. But I figure we don’t exactly have the time right now.”

“I know,” you agree. “It’s fine.”

He reaches around your hip to slide his palm down your cunt, and you sigh when you feel him cup you in his hand. 

“What’s this?” he hums, rather sadistically as his nose brushes against your cheek. “Guess I didn’t need to work you up, anyhow. Seems you’re already dripping for me.”

Your lashes flutter as he kneads your pussy for a moment before he lets go to take hold of his cock. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, angel?” he whispers, dragging the tip through your throbbing folds just to make you whimper. “You gonna be loud for me? Or are you gonna be quiet?”

More of a rhetorical question, you figure, because the answer is given to him when he pushes in, and you moan fervently.

He chuckles from behind you before it melts into some sort of delicious grunt. “That’s it. So fucking tight, darling. Take it, just like that.”

He pulls out, giving you only a second of reprieve before pushing back in. Stretching you a little more as he drives himself deeper into your cunt.

Your lip flies between your teeth as you swallow a string of curses and whines, desperate to feel him in every way possible.

“You all right?” he calls, and you feel his fingers gently squeezing your hip for reassurance.

It makes you smile. “Yeah,” you say back, nails scratching down the wall. “Go. Keep going.”

He obliges, working himself in at a quicker pace, and you see him watching out of your peripheral.

He seems mesmerized by the way his cock disappears into you. Addicted to the sounds now beginning to echo around the small space. Mixing in beautifully with his soft pants and your anguished whimpers.

“S’a good girl,” he murmurs beneath his breath, almost as if it wasn’t meant for you. “Fucking taking me so well, look at you. Pretty pussy just stretching for me. Likes having Daddy’s cock, doesn’t she?”

And maybe you shouldn’t be surprised by the filth coming from his mouth, but you are, and it makes you clench until you’re both gasping.

“Shit, angel,” he groans, burying himself a little deeper as you keen. “Like it when I talk to you like that, hm? Not so vanilla now, yeah?”

You want to thank your lucky stars for that damn book that led you both to this moment, nodding quickly as you squirm back against him. “Yes, Daddy—”

He pushes in to the hilt, overcome by the pleasure your words provide. His chest presses to your back, and instantly, you reach over your shoulder to grab onto his curls. Needing to hold him in some way.

“Fuck,” you sigh, vision hazy as your body works to accommodate him. “Okay go. Go, Harry, go.”

He smiles at the use of his name, and it does something strange to the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. 

“Okay,” he agrees, pulling back and readjusting his grip on your waist to keep you steady. “Be good, yeah?”

The faster pace begins. Hard thrusts that nearly knock the wind from your lungs as your body shakes with each snap of his hips into yours.

It’s oddly satiating. Perfectly full and teasingly relentless. Quick fucks aren’t normally your forte, but this? With Harry? In the world’s tiniest bathroom?

Euphoria.

“Fucking squeezing me, darling, shit,” he exhales, gripping you tight in his hand. “Pretty little pussy looks so good clenching around my cock. Like it, angel, don’t you? Like letting me fuck your sweet cunt the way you’ve been needing?”

And you don’t know how he knows you’ve been so desperate, but he does, and it makes you mewl as you drag your nails down his scalp.

“Oh, I know,” he coos but it’s dark. “Can just tell. So fucking cock drunk. Desperate for anything I’ll give you. Even let a stranger fuck you, hm? Let me take care of you the way you deserve?”

“Yes,” you breathe, mindlessly reaching back for his other hand. Once you find it, you intertwine his fingers with yours and drag his palm up toward your neck. Placing it against your throat until he seems to get the hint.

He says nothing, simply squeezes you in his grip. Until the corners of your vision get fuzzy, and the small bathroom gets smaller.

“That’s it,” he hums, almost as if luring you into the darkness. “Let go for me, baby girl. Just like that. Daddy’s got you.”

Everything is heightened. Every sense, every second. You can feel his facial hair rubbing against your cheek. Can feel the calloused tips of his fingers cementing to your exposed skin. Can taste the drink he had on your tongue.

There’s a knock on the door. A hard tap, and Harry’s pace doesn’t falter for even a moment as he calls, “Fucking occupied,” before slamming back into you.

The noise you make is loud enough to be heard by whoever was on the other side. Perhaps his intention, and it makes your pussy clench once more at the thought.

“Bet you’d look fucking perfect on your knees,” he continues, unrelenting. “With my cock down your throat. Fucking drooling for me. And you’d take me, wouldn’t you? Take my cock like a good girl. Make me proud.”

The suggestion is exciting. The image in your head of you looking up at the glorious stranger from your place on the floor. Getting to feel him on your tongue. Down your throat. Anywhere he’ll have you.

You bet he likes to see his cum painted across a partner’s skin. Likes to run his fingers through it. His tongue. Collect it and taste it before spitting it into their mouths.

Your entire body shudders from the mental picture and even if Harry doesn’t know what garnered this response, he seems pleased with it. Tugging on you tighter until you’re practically sitting on him.

You’re running out of time. Running out of willpower, and he releases your throat to find your clit. The first time he’s truly touched it, and the sensation that follows nearly kills you.

You hadn’t anticipated being so sensitive, but you are, and it’s apparent to you both from the way you jolt when he pinches you.

“Oh?” He’s chuckling again, entertained by your reaction. “S’that all it takes then? Poor little cunt just needs some extra attention?”

He presses into you and begins to rub small, hard circles along the delicate nerves. Ignoring your cries and pleas for more.

Instead, his foot kicks your legs further apart, and his mouth attaches to your neck. Nipping just below your ear as he whispers, “Bet you taste fucking divine, hm? Bet I could write a whole song about the way this pussy tastes.”

He lets go just to bring his hand to his mouth. Sucking on the soaked digits and groaning in your ear.

A shiver rolls down your spine before he drags his saliva coated fingers back to your clit. “So fucking sweet, angel. But you already knew that, didn’t you? S’why you were teasing me all fucking day. Cause you knew I’d get addicted to you.”

You’re so close to release, you can see it. Can actually see the blinding stars barreling toward you like meteors. 

“And what if I am, huh?” He goes faster. Gets sloppier. Needing to get you both there. “What if I’m fucking addicted to you now? What if I can’t go without the taste of you?”

“Have it,” you sough, rolling your hips back against his cock. “Have me, Harry, please—”

“I will,” he growls, and you feel his cock twitch the closer he gets. “Fucking will, angel. Need you to come for me, yeah? Come for Daddy. Let me feel you around me, darling. Right fucking now—”

Everything is a blur. Maybe he comes first, maybe you do. It all melds together until it’s one, long string of orgasms and pleasure. 

He doesn’t let you go for quite some time. Pushing you to the very brink, making sure it goes as far as it can. Even after you’ve come down and are squirming away from the ministrations to your clit.

The sadistic need to make sure you’re ruined is evident, and he only stops when you begin to collapse in his hold.

“Okay, easy, angel, easy,” he whispers, grasping onto your hips to keep you upright. “You’re all right, yeah? You okay?”

You nod weakly as you catch your breath, and he takes this as a good sign. Allowing you to stand on your own when you’re ready.

But he doesn’t go far. He bends down and pulls your jeans back up. Makes sure you’re all right.

You notice he purposefully leaves the mess between your thighs, and when you shoot him a questioning eyebrow, his only response is, “For later.”

Which you don’t mind at all. 

I KNOW, I KNOW IT'S BEEN FOREVER!!!! I'M SO SORRY BUT THANK YOU FOR STICKING WITH ME AND BEING SO NICE, ILY ALL 😭💞💞💞

Previous Part:

~ Middle-Class Seats, First-Class Fun

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282

I'm also tagging you guys from the first part just in case, but if you've already moved on, I can absolutely understand 😭💞: @blackbookwhore @nellylayhoohoo @22fallenangel22 @watercolorskyy @ilovedilfs32 @nicodoesntexist @lelenikki @happypoptart

[itoshiexx]

wonder

synopsis: sae wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 800 | warnings: established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, sae is stupidly in love with u

notes: why hello! i'm barely alive! i know i kinda disappeared but i was struggling with personal issues and my mental health, so i didn't really have creativity to write. i'm not sure i like this either, but i couldn't let sae bae's bday go by without posting anything. also this is slightly inspired by the song "wonder - shawn mendes". thank you for your love and patience! <3

masterlist

there are certain things itoshi sae would never admit. like the way he loved calm walks at the beach or how seagulls were his favorite animal. how he secretly regret hurting his little brother’s feelings when he was a stupid teenager. how his life was way lonelier than the world could even imagine, making him hate the walls of his oh so empty apartment.

mostly, he would never admit he wondered what it was like to be loved — not just by anyone, though, but to be loved by you.

he’s not sure when it started. he can’t pinpoint the exact moment his heart began beating faster and his black and white world was filled with color, but he does know that, inevitably, it all comes back to you, like you’re some sort of big bang that created his whole existence. itoshi sae doesn’t think he was actually himself before he became yours.

if you ask him, he’d say it’s a bit pathetic, really. he was never a guy that cared about romance, and he definitely didn’t believe in the concept of a love that could sweep you off your feet, like the hollywood movies desperately tried to sell. perhaps one of the reasons he liked you so much was because you managed to prove him wrong, and not many people were able to do that. 

sae was usually right. but you, in his life — that was even more right than his stupid beliefs. 

“sae, i need to get up,” your voice breaks him from his stupor, and, instinctively, his hold on your waist tightens. it’s some sort of protection, he thinks. not to you, but to protect him from the pain of having you stray away. 

(he never wants to let go).

the football player twists his body to trap you even further on the mattress, burying his face on your chest and tangling his legs with yours. your giggle reverberates through his whole body and brings warmth to his cheeks. his heart flutters, and he can’t even find it in him to hate it. 

you must have put a spell on him, he concludes.

“i’m serious. i need to make breakfast,” you say again when he doesn’t answer.

“don’t wanna.”

“you don’t want breakfast?”

“nuh-uh.”

you giggle again, and this time, you seem to give in, relaxing your body and welcoming him in your embrace. sae can only sigh in satisfaction when you card your fingers through his reddish-brown locks, relishing in the peace only you seem to be able to give him.

“i wonder what people would think if they knew how clingy the all mighty itoshi sae can be,” the teasing lit in your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and you earn a scoff.

“shut up,” he quips, although there’s no real bite in it. “you love me.”

and you must not be from this world, because it’s easy — the way you pick up on any slight nuance of his voice or demeanor. it’s so fucking easy for you to read him like an open book and to give the reassurance he so desperately needs; albeit unaware. 

your voice becomes impossibly soft, “i do, baby. i love you so much.”

you kiss his forehead, and after wandering around for so long, sae thinks he’s finally home. 

for a while, you two just stay there, in bed, wrapped in each other in a way you can’t know where he starts and where you end. the thought of being one with you makes him happy, but that’s just another item in his long list of things he would never admit. 

your sweet voice breaks the silence. 

“we’re gonna be in bed all day?” there’s nothing but pure curiosity in your voice. no judgment — you never judge him, despite the way he deserves it sometimes. the thought makes his chest tighten with the amount of love he has harbored just for you.

sometimes he thinks he’s too small for it, and he’s scared all this love will overflow and consume him whole. though, it’s even scarier to think he wouldn’t mind: sae is yours. you can have all that he has and all that he is. 

“just a little longer,” he whispers, a little more vulnerable than he would like. but it’s okay. it’s always okay when it’s you. “please?”

you hum in agreement, continuing to caress his hair. 

“of course. whatever the birthday boy wants.”

sae allows himself to close his eyes and bask in your warmth, on the safety that you so effortlessly gave him. by smelling your perfume, he’s filled with gratitude for all the times he wondered what it was like to be loved by you.

“happy birthday, love.”

he’s glad he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

You teach Ghost a new skill

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader 

WARNINGS: smut || 18+ only MDNI ||

A/N: ...it's so horny...

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

____

It’s been a long evening, and you’re tired.   Wrung out.

And so your first instinct (governed solely by delirious tiredness at this point) is to laugh at Ghost’s words.  Not because they’re funny, but because they’re—quite literally—unbelievable.   You look from him to Johnny, and then back to him, before your smile falters and falls entirely.  Oh fuck, he’s serious.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve never eaten pussy.”

“No.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter.  “Lt…I’m finding that very hard to believe.”

“Believe what y’want, Sergeant.”

Usually, Johnny would intervene, ever the peace-maker between the two of you.  But not tonight.  Tonight he just watches the two of you, his baby blues brighter and wider than usual as they swing between the two of you as though he’s watching a tennis match. 

“So…what?  You want to try?”

“Mm.”

“You want me to…show you what I like.  While you’re going down on me.”

Ghost looks at you like you’re an idiot, which, in his defence, is how he looks at everyone.  

You’re not entirely sure what to do, so you look to Johnny for help.  What the fuck, you mouth at him, and only when you hear a rumble from Ghost do you turn back to him.      

“Okay…yeah.  Fine. Okay, fine.”  You giggle nervously.  “Can Johnny show you?  He knows what I like.”  When you glance over at Johnny, he’s helpful as ever—nodding sagely at your words.  

He does know what you like, after all.

Ghost only crosses his arms over his chest, and the whole thing makes him look bigger.  More intimidating.  He takes up more room like this, and you may have even called it posturing, except you know that it isn’t.  There is neither the need nor the expectation of posturing between the three of you. 

“Take your clothes off,” Ghost orders, and you scramble to obey immediately.  (Hours in the future from this moment, you’ll think about how they’re the last coherent words he says for a while.  What a man your mighty Lieutenant is, commendable in the absolute dedication and discipline he shows in learning a new craft.)

You watch them as they watch you strip.  You take your time with it—too awkward to make it sexy for them, but enjoying how their eyes greedily linger on the skin your fingertips brush.  They make you feel sexy with just their eyes on you, and at one point, you watch with a sly smile on your face as Johnny touches himself through his trousers.  Just the one hard tug, and his resultant raspy exhale has white-hot arousal coursing through your veins. 

They don’t undress, they don’t even move from their positions, really, and you suppose there are worse things than being the main course for the evening.  When you’re finally bare, Johnny seems to lurch out of his trance and reaches out to you, gently pulling you by your hand into the bed.  And finally, finally, when Johnny kisses you, you can relax into the whole thing.  A contradiction to be sure, but you’ve never felt as relaxed as you do when you pull away from him, gasping for air.  

Ghost is at your back, mask off, warm breath at the nape of your neck.  “Don’t stop on my account, Sergeants.”

It’s hardly a big ask, and you go back eagerly for seconds, latch on to Johnny’s lips while his hands roam the sides of your body.  There’s a comfort in the familiarity of his touch, and you’re left wondering when you’ll have that with both of them.    

So it does come as quite a surprise when (in almost a physical manifestation of your inner thoughts) you feel Ghost’s arms reach out and tug your own behind your back.  You think nothing of it, though, too mesmerised by being the world’s luckiest girl in that moment—trapped in between two men, one making love to your mouth, the other determined to make you flood your panties by just kissing the back of your neck.  

You only barely register Ghost’s movements behind you, hands on your shoulders tugging you backwards into him with care until you’re lying on your back.  The ease with which Johnny moves with you, using his elbows to support his body weight above you, makes you feel like they’ve planned something for you.

But you know that’s not true.  You know that you can’t plan a calamity.

Johnny’s attention moves from your lips to your cheeks to your jaw, while you’ve got your head in Ghost’s lap, who runs eager, gentle hands over your breasts, your belly, your arms—and you can’t help but sigh with how languid and loose you feel right now.  And, almost as if in response, the lizard part of your hind-brain whispers to you about how nice and safe and warm it feels between the two men, being taken care of by them, being spoiled by them.  

They don’t seem in any particular hurry, and so when you cheekily guide Ghost’s hand towards your pussy and he resists, you don’t think anything of it.  But of course, it makes Johnny look up at Ghost and freeze and all the action stops and you want to whine, protest, make your displeasure known in some way, but you don’t get the opportunity.  Ghost shifts, cradling your head before putting it gently down on the bed, leaning closer and closer and oh.  

Kissing Ghost is so different from kissing Johnny.  When Johnny kisses you, it feels like your spine melts, and you’re left a puddle under eager, enthusiastic fingers.  But Ghost is not Johnny.

No, kissing Ghost makes you feel like you’re a bee trying to hold your own against a hurricane.  Try as hard as you want, but the hurricane doesn’t care.  The hurricane barrels through, stopped by nothing and no one, not swayed in the slightest by your courage or endeared to your foolishness.      

Except Ghost isn’t just a hurricane.  

He’s your superior officer, he’s a man you work with, a man you work for, a man you trust in more ways than one, a man who's got both your arms pinned above you.  He coaxes you to let him explore your mouth, urges you to open up to him, and god do you let him.  

So engrossed are you that you don’t even notice the distinct sound of the locking zip ties on your wrists until your body jerks up, and you find that your arms have been bound above your head.  “Ghost!  Wh—”

“Shh,” he murmurs.   “I’ve got ya, yer’alright, pet.  Hush.”

You hush.  When your eyes meet Johnny’s, he’s looking at you with the same steady gaze he gives you in the middle of the battlefield, a look that says it’s alright and you’ve got this and I won’t let anything happen to you.  So you relax and when Johnny climbs back up your body to kiss you again, you let your kiss sum up your trust in him.  He squeezes your right hip, something he’s done a thousand times before you remind you that you’re safe with him, and the final vestiges of apprehension drain out of you.

“Sitrep?” Johnny murmurs, and it makes you smile against his mouth.

“Living,” you answer immediately, and it makes Ghost exhale roughly.

But you know why, you think.  You can step outside of your body for a second, see what Ghost sees.  Your naked body in bed—in his bed—Johnny hovering over you, his clothed cock right over your pussy that throbs from the lack of attention.  

You break your kiss with Johnny and he turns to look at your Lieutenant.  “You ready for your lesson, Lt?”         

It always jars you, how quickly Ghost moves.  He’s surprisingly agile, even with how big he is, especially with how big he is, but he’s kneeling on the floor in a second, hands running over your calves, the back of your thighs and finally coming to a rest on your hips.  The whole time, though, his eyes haven’t left your pussy, and it makes you squirm.  You feel too warm just from his attention, and neither of them have even touched you between your legs yet.

“Now the first lesson is…” Soap uses his middle finger to touch your slit, and then immediately drops it, slides it over your completely, unbearably, slick, hot, neglected cunt.   

“Fuck,” Ghost spits and Johnny hums in approval.  You’re pretty sure you’re about to snap your jaw off its hinges from how tight you’ve got it clutched it shut.  “You hafta see how the bonnie lass is doin,’ alrate?  Check if you’ve been kissin’ her all nice and sweet, just how she likes it.”

Johnny continues to touch you, but warm fingers, bigger, rougher, more calloused, find your clit.  Ghost touches your clit in small, slow circles, and fuck.  You’re bucking your hips into it slightly because you can’t help yourself.  You close your eyes and squeeze them shut, because god, you can all hear how obscenely wet you are right now.  “See now how wet our lass is jus’ from hearin’ us talking about eatin’ that cunt?  That’s what you want, Lt,” Johnny instructs.

It makes you gasp raggedly, feeling like you’ve run a marathon but no.  All you’ve done is lay there, while they masturbate you with just two fingers but every coherent thought has already left your brain and you’re left wondering if you really will lose your mind and have a heart attack by the end of the night.  

“Now here’s a little tip, Ghost,” Johnny says hoarsely, and brings his finger still shiny-wet with your slick up to Ghost’s face.  There’s no hesitation as Ghost wraps his mouth around Johnny’s finger effortlessly.  You’re breathing hard with your mouth slightly open in apprehension, because if they say anything to you right now, you will literally pass out.  Johnny’s face lights up at the lack of thought Ghost seems to give in making out with Johnny’s finger, and he pushes in closer and closer to Ghost until they’re the ones kissing.  

And god.  You see the hint of tongues and they look so damn lost in each other, but they don’t stop touching you.  But goddammit you want their attention on you tonight.  You whine a little, squirm and pull against the zip ties that bind your wrists to the bedpost, but Ghost’s warm, steady hand on your thigh stops you.  Be good, it seems to say.  Be good and endure.  So you do.

When they break apart, Ghost’s quick smirk at you feels like your reward.  

“You…you can put your finger inside me, Ghost.  It’s—I’d really like that,” you say meekly.  You have not once in your life been meek with Ghost and Johnny chuckles slowly.

“Ach, I’m givin’ the instructions tonight, love.  Here,” he says, motioning so Ghostcan replace Johnny’s fingers on your slit with his own.  “Go on, then, Lt.”  His voice drops to a teasing whisper.  “It’s where she’s the warmest…wettest too.  And she’d like it,” he adds, only slightly mocking you, and you laugh breathily. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost croaks, and a tremor runs down your spine when he follows Johnny’s instructions.  It’s like your pussy hears him, floods his fingers, throbs a hot, wicked rhythm against them.   “Y’might be right, Johnny.”  Ghost diligently avoids our clit, running a curious finger over the length of your cunt, then feeling out the tight muscle there, pushing in slowly, slowly.  Gently enough to open you up on his finger.

“Good fuckin’ god, ain’t that a sight,” Johnny breathes, and you clench your fingers in a fist because you need something, anything to relieve the pressure you feel right now.  It hasn’t even been that long that Johnny fucked you, a few days, maybe, but the way you open up around Ghost’s finger, you’d have thought it was weeks.  

After all the build up that felt like torture, your eyes roll back into your head as you feel Ghost move his finger in and out of you, then feeling brave and adding a second.  His movements are precise, a military man through and through, and his eyes never once move from your cunt.  He watches the movement of his own fingers, the muscles in his bicep jumping from how controlled his movements are, and when he pulls them out and brushes them over Johnny’s lips, you can see that they’re absolutely drenched.  

But fuck, they don’t even give you a moment, because Johnny has his eyes closed, allows Ghost to sink his fingers in his mouth so deep, and he kind of…slumps a bit.  Relaxes into it entirely.   His face goes soft and his shoulders drop and Ghost watches him with keen, sharp eyes.  You’re almost convinced they’ve forgotten you’re in the room.   Almost, because, almost in perfect sync, their attention turns back to you.  They’re so in tune with each other, it’s ridiculous.  “Boys,” you gasp.  “Rude to keep a girl waiting, you know.”

“Greedy bitch,” Ghost insists, and pushes his fingers into your mouth instead.  You should bite him for the audacity, but the lingering taste of your own pussy has you weak, and you suck his fingers automatically.  “Be nice, pet.  Or class ends here, yeah?  You can be an outstanding student, while Johnny sucks my cock.”  His words expose the temporary nature of your bravado, and it rushes out of you, making your spine meet the bed again.  You hadn’t even realised how far you’d been arching off of it.

Johnny soothes you, though, shushing you, gentle murmurs of encouragement leaving his mouth effortlessly as two, thick fingers find their way inside you and keep you plugged.  He only turns to Ghost when you’re a gasping, moaning mess.  “Think you can guess wha’ comes next, Lt?”

Ghost adjusts so his face is right in front of your cunt and Johnny leans down to whisper in his ear.  “...like you’re parched, and the lass offers the last drink on Earth, ye?”

Johnny continues the rocking motion of his fingers inside you while Ghost brings his mouth closer to your cunt, and just breathes there.  Even that feels like too much stimulation and when Johnny uses that exact moment to curl his fingers into you in a come hither motion, your whine is loud and drawn out, eyes squeezed shut so tight, you feel a few errant tears leak out the sides.    

When Ghost’s tongue makes contact with you, he doesn’t immediately latch on to your clit like you’d expected, or hoped.  No, he uses his tongue to gently savour your wetness, and considering how much of it there is, you’re sure you’re feeding him mouthfuls of it, just from how close you are to coming.  He finally pulls you out of your misery, though, when his tongue makes the journey to your clit, and when your hips rock upwards, he groans and rises up to chase it.  The tip of his tongue swirls around your clit and down to your pussy, where Johnny’s fingers slide out slowly, so Ghost can suck them clean before they go back inside you and Ghost repeats the whole thing.

You’re only pulled out of the moment for a split second, when you notice Soap’s hand covering  the nape of Ghost’s neck, holding him there against your pussy, and how Ghost lets him.  It only catches your attention because of how submissive it is, how trusting, but you immediately forget why it even matters when his velvet tongue catches on your clit.       

You can hardly believe what’s happening to you right now.  Ghost is adjusting himself enough so your knees go effortlessly over his shoulder and you’re ludicrously exposed to him right now. The same Ghost who exercises restraint in every aspect of his life, is mean and sometimes a bully and strict and fucking scary, has got his nose grinding against your clit right now, while his tongue gathers your arousal from your slit, swallows it and goes back for more. 

You feel that deep, familiar swell in the pit of your belly, and your eyes pop open in panic, because your hands are tied and you can’t even grind into Ghost’s face without any leverage, but then Johnny adds a third finger into you while Ghost sucks on your clit with persistence, and you find that you don’t need that leverage after all.  You can grind into his face just fine.  You turn away and bite your lip hard, but Ghost’s hand shoots up and curls around your jaw, twisting it until you’re facing them again.  

You moan and Johnny coos at you in response. “Stay wi’ us, baby, stay right here,” he murmurs. 

And then, all at once, you’re coming, hard.  It’s almost painful, the pressure of it, the way it makes you want to kick and squeal and cry from how it makes your body curl up in on itself, your spine bowing in half.  Your cry is anguished and deep and rips its way out of your throat, and you think you hear a satisfied rumble from one of your boys, but you don’t know which one.  Your orgasm feels powerful and destructive and you claw at thin air, squirm and move but there’s no getting away from how encompassing it is, how fucking devastating it feels in it’s power. 

You may have drenched Johnny’s fingers and Ghost’s face but you couldn’t care less right now.  You hear one of them chuckle slowly, and you feel yourself gradually fall back onto the Earth.  Ghost has mercifully moved his attention to the insides of your thighs now and Johnny pets your other thigh, and though their touches, any touches feel too much right now, you don’t dare move away from them.  

This time, Ghost crawls up your body to kiss you, tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth, finally  murmurs against your lips.  “Sitrep, Sergeant?”

And you have to smile at that, because this man may hide under layers and layers, but he hides something inside him worth diving into the abyss for.  “Living, Lt.”  His teeth drag along the skin of your throat as he makes way for Johnny to check in on you.  

And oh.  Sweet Johnny’s just smiling at you, hands moving to brush back the sweaty hair at the crown of your head.  “Alright, love?”  

“Yeah,” you say softly, too blissed out to answer.  You float on a cloud, until Johnny speaks, the smirk and mischief in his voice making your eyes shoot open in a panic.

“Last lesson of the day, Lt.  Gotta clean our girl up.”   

[risuola]

LOOKS LIKE WE'RE SNOWED IN FOR THE NIGHT — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, with whom you got stuck in a cabin

A fireplace, a nice blanket, a bunch of snow and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree… for some it might sound like a perfect way to spend the night during the festive season, but not when you’re stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with your biggest enemy. And it’s cold.

cw: smut, enemies to lovers, oral (f. receiving), angst-ish vibe, death mentioned (I put it as a warning, but honestly, if you're into jjk you're probably used to it, just sayin'), reader discretion is advised — 2,9k words

kissmas masterlist

“Looks like we’re snowed in for the night,” Choso pointed, making few futile attempts to push the doors open. “I can force the way out but I doubt you’re gonna survive it.” He added, venomous tone evident in his otherwise calm and low voice.

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. This is horrible, you thought, it couldn’t possibly get worse than that. The cabin, secluded and nestled deep in the woods, once a welcoming refuge from the cold, was now a claustrophobic cage trapping you and Choso inside. The doors, blocked by the snow piled high behind them were impossible to open and the windows – old and grime-stained – covered with ice, offered no escape. The interiors, now cleared out of the cursed spirit that resided in here scaring the owners away, were as cozy as they could be with warm colors of the creaking wooden floors and the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, that funny enough was the only thing that still was working inside. The furniture was faded and worn-down by the humid air, the cobwebs decorating every corner.

The task at hand was simple enough – get in, exorcise, get out – but the snow and the cold were making everything more difficult, not to mention the man you had to share the experience with. It was a part of introducing the Death Painting into the jujutsu society and a silent attempt to make the two of you fonder of each other, but the result proved itself to be starkly different, when you got stuck with him for the night, or god knows how long.

“Damn,” you groaned finally, realizing there’s nothing you can do to make the situation better. No escape, no signal, not even a goddamn kettle that would work.

“Looks like you’re really screwed, huh?” Choso mocked you, a smirk twisting his features because he knew – he just knew that you’re not gonna make it through the night and though he enjoyed the idea of watching you freeze to death, he involuntarily threw some more wood into the fire to keep it alive.

“I’m perfectly fine, fuck you,” you snapped, glaring at his stupid handsome face from your place across the room, hoping silently that maybe once in this world a glare could kill.

You and Choso had always been on opposite sides. Your fights always end up in blood, there was little to no respect between you two, and though in a fight you two were able to work together, outside of it, it was a much different story. You just couldn’t stand each other, you could never put a finger on the reason why, but you just never clicked. Always having different opinions, always too stubborn to let go and not even once agreeing on a plan of work. You trusted him just enough to know he will most likely not kill you in your sleep.

Now, as the sound of the howling wind outside was constantly reminding you on the dire situation, the storm outside showing no signs of letting up, the pressure between you and him seemed to reach a breaking point. At first, you moved through the cabin, walking back and forth, avoiding each other’s gaze and trying to ignore the fact you were trapped together. “Sit quiet and stop being annoying,” you growled at him, hating the way he was sprawled comfortably on the little sofa while you were feeling more and more cold as the hours were passing by. Kamo and his damn temperature regulation.

You had been fighting constantly since you arrived, each blaming the other for the predicament you were in. You argued and hurled insults at each other, both trying to assert dominance over the other. You were constantly on the edge, you bickered until both of you were that close to exploding. You fought about everything, from the mission to the tiny space you were forced to share. You could barely stand the sound of each other’s breathing, much less the sight of each other’s faces and the constant, near proximity. It was only a matter of time one of you snapped.

It felt claustrophobic, nearly – the way only four walls were surrounding you and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite navigate yourself through the treacherous environment. You had no idea what exactly was oh-so wrong with this place. A desolate cabin with nothing but cold air and the palpable tension between you and Choso was slowly taking a toll on you. Harsh winter wind howled outside and it was clear that your spirits matched its bitterness. The twinkling, colorful lights adorning the mismatched Christmas tree in the corner did nothing to warm up the bleakness of the place.

Hours passed and you got tired of the banter. Choso noticed how slowly you became, quiet, less talkative. It became easier and easier to outsmart you as the cold was taking a toll on your body. Your retorts were less sharp, a little delayed as the temperature went even lower along with the night progressing.

“You’re gonna die in here?” He asked, his tone as nonchalant as ever, but it was getting to him that you might actually die that night. It was fun while it lasted and you did an excellent job in making him believe that you’re gonna survive the night, that you’re fine. He allowed his eyes, that up until that point were closed as he was resting on the sofa, to look at your form. You were shivering, seated on the furry carpet near the fireplace and though you were as close to the heat as it was possible, it didn’t do much to help you. Your breath was visible and you were constantly rubbing your hands together in hopes to stop them from going numb.

“I’m fine,” you said again, your voice much punier than you intended it to be and Kamo found it amusing how you forced yourself to sound strong, when in reality, you were so small and weak and vulnerable.

“Oh, are you?” The question had mocking qualities that Choso couldn’t hold back. “You know, all it takes is for you to ask nicely and I might consider warming you up.”

“Fuck you.” Oh, you were so stubborn. He shrugged and kept observing you.

The cabin fell quiet. The air was thick with tension and the only sounds were the occasional drip of water from the ceiling, crackling of fire in the fireplace and the soft tickling of a clock. The rattling of the windows in the wind accompanied the cacophony.

“Isn’t the big, strong sorceress now uncharacteristically quiet?” He joked once again, and you could have sworn that even in the freezing cold, he had an ability to make your blood boil. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I miss the times when paintings were not talking,” you retorted, wrapping yourself tighter in the imitation of a blanket you found laying around. “You have no idea how much I’d love to exorcise your half-cursed ass.”

“As if you were ever gonna be strong enough to put a harm onto me,” he said, pushing himself up from the couch. “Besides, you might wanna pick your words carefully. You’re at my mercy right now.”

“I’d rather be eaten by a polar bear than be at your mercy.”

“Oh, that would be a cool death, right?” He laughed, a taunting tone piercing the air and your soul, it seemed. “Or a curse. It would sound much better in the report later if I told your friends that you lost your life in battle, with bravery and strength, yeah? For sure it’s more appealing than a lame reason like freezing to death.”

“Oh, shut up…” you sighed, leaning your cheek on one of your knees. You kept them tightly pressed to your chest, a desperate attempt of storing any leftover heat along your torso, but it did little to nothing. “Come on, get your ass over there.”

“I already told you, you have to ask me nicely.”

“That’s as nice as I’m gonna get.”

“So that’s as close as you’re gonna get me,” he smirked, teasing you beyond decency, well aware of how delicate was a situation you were now in. To him, cold was nothing more than an inconvenience. In all honesty, he could break the doors open and just go through the snow during night and he would be just fine, but you… it was a different story and truth is that he stayed in the cabin only because of you.

“Choso, please, don’t be a dick, I’m freezing to death, literally,” you whined, forgetting about your pride and prioritizing the survival. “Please?”

“Much better,” Choso chuckled and moved from the sofa to the floor, sitting behind you with his legs on both sides of your frame. “Loosen up a little,” he ordered, throwing away your blanket and as his arm sneaked around your waist, he pulled you into himself, your back now pressed against his chest.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, shifting your position and wrapping yourself around him. He was hot and it felt like the heat was emitting from him, seeping onto you the moment you made contact with his muscular frame. You pushed your face against his neck, nuzzling your cold nose into his warm skin.

“Aren’t you a greedy little thing?” He commented, putting on an indifferent, snarky mask but inside, he was feeling things. It was odd, it was new. He wasn’t exactly an expert in romantic situations, in fact besides few really brief adventures with women, it was the first time he was actually somewhat intimate. Choso’s mind was in a limbo, trying to fight the thoughts of his body which were going crazy. The way your frame fit so closely to his, the way you turned your face and melted into him… it was almost too much. Thoughts raced around his head a mile a minute.

“Aren’t you a scrooge for letting me freeze while you’re that hot?”

“Well, I’m your partner on the job, not your personal heater,” he shrugged, allowing his hand to run along the curves of your waist and hip. “Also, I’d assume that the low temperature is a natural habitat for a cold bitch like you.”

“Ouch,” you acted hurt but couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I have a great idea, why don’t you shut up?”

“Oh, did that sting you, princess?”

„I’m serious, you should shut the hell up,” it was a mumble, an unharmful one, but Choso must have gotten a different impression.

It was a flash. It took you few seconds to even register what just happened and once you did, you were already helpless beneath him. The soft, furry carpet now tickling you in the face as Choso kept you, chest down and pinned to the ground. It annoyed you how easily one of his hands kept both of your wrists pushed up above your head. You felt his weight on top of your thighs, his crotch pressed tightly to your ass and his other hand supporting his weight on the wooden floor.

“Now, if you’re gonna act like a brat, I’m gonna treat you as one,” he said, his voice low and close to your ear as he leaned down and gathered some of your hair to the side to uncover your face to his eyes. Your hopeless pulls and wriggles did nothing to loosen up his hold. If anything, his fingers only tightened their grip around your wrists.

“Get off me,” you groaned, trying to find your way out of the situation, but the movements of your body seemed to make it worse. The man hummed darkly, aiming a mean slap at your ass.

“Stop wiggling,” he warned, smirking at the way your body tensed for a moment. He couldn’t tell what’s gotten him into such a playful mood. Maybe it was all the thick air between you two finally exposing its true colors – something once filled with anger and hostility, now crackled with an undeniable sexual tension.

“Did you just slap me?” You couldn’t believe it, but you’d sooner be dead than you’ll admit out loud that it somehow felt good.

“I did,” he said nonchalantly. “You whined you’re cold, huh? Well, guess I’ll have to warm you up for real,” Choso added, now grinning mischievously. “Be a good girl, I know you can do it. Now I’ll let go of your hands and you’ll turn around, yeah?”

You hummed in response, not really sure what’s gotten into him but you were far from minding it so you flipped to your back as soon as he gave you a chance. Still on top of you, Choso kept a controlling grip over your hip, his touch burning your bare skin over there.

The fire crackled and flickered, casting warm, dancing shadows on the two of you but you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes was a reflection of it or just pure lust. The latter, you thought, catching his gaze as it scanned your form, paying a little more attention to your lips, chest and the little strip of skin that showed from underneath your blouse.

Kamo was enticed by you, fascinated even, by the way his body was suddenly yearning for you. The unusual desire overflown his senses and he found himself inching closer and closer, until he was just one, mere breath away from your mouth. He could feel you gasp, see the look of your eyes and if he wouldn’t know better he would be convinced there was lust in them too.

“Nervous?” He whispered, with a slight shadow of teasing painted all over his stupidly handsome features. His nose, now brushing against yours initiated the touch, a prelude of sorts to what was going to come and Choso chuckled at the lack of response from you. It was, in a way, an opening for you to push him away, to set a boundary, to lay down the consent but you made no effort to do any of that. Instead, you let your fingers to find his hair and once you pulled at them, there was no going back.

His lips pressed into yours. The kiss and the heat from your bodies warmed the cold air around you, melting the icy tension that lingered between you as you, too, melted below him. The time seemed to slow down and the melody of howling wind and fire was now a white noise to the soft sounds and whimpers you were making. Your mouth parted and Choso took the invitation eagerly, running his tongue along your lower lip and reaching yours. They twirled and twisted, danced and explored each other and you swore at the moment that the world around you had fallen away.

It didn’t take long since you were bare, completely exposed underneath his muscular body; the cold air around you a stark contrast to the extreme heat that was coming off of Choso. He was all around you, exploring your shapes with touches so tender, you couldn’t help but feel worshipped. The way he touched you, the way he kissed and drank every inch of your skin made your heart rumble against your ribcage. He went down, tracing the ups and downs of your figure with wet, sloppy stamps of his lips until he reached your thighs – both of which he kissed with as much attention.

It was intoxicating. Kamo felt as if everything around him twirled and he was drowning in the soft feeling of your plush skin. The curves of you filled every bit of his mind. Addicting, you were, so addicting he couldn’t find a strength to pull back and before he knew it, his tongue was already lapping at your clit. The beautiful melody of your moans filling his ears as he worked his mouth over the puffy bud, sucking and licking simultaneously. Waves and waves of pleasure you felt, spreading from your core and reaching every part of you. It was hot, it was like nothing else you’ve ever experienced.

“Oh god, Choso~” you were whining, a surprise to you cause up until this time you would swear you’re not the one to make such lewd noises during sex. All of that went out the window when it came to the man between your legs. He was flicking his tongue, twirling it and pressing it flat; every movement centered and focused, sharing one objective – to abuse the most sensitive, sweet spot on your body. He took his time, it was wet and sloppy, it was messy. The silky sensation of his tongue, warm and soft… oh, man has a talent.

Your breath was stuttering, hands grabbing the fluffy fibers of the carpet as your thighs were trembling and the urge to squeeze them over Choso’s head was slowly becoming irresistible. The way he was making out with your clit drove you insane, it brought you to the edge and pushed you over. You came undone and you came hard. He wasn’t stopping, just slowing down and leading you through the high as if it was his job and the very core of his existence.

“Feeling warmer?” He asked, once slowly coming back up above you. His face was now a real painting, covered with your essence and his lips, swollen and wet, stretched into a grin of satisfaction as he was taking in the sight of your breathless form. You nodded, barely registering the subtle teasing undertone he had in his voice. “Good. But I’m going to make you even hotter.”

[whrsmym1nd]

a dead man

pairing: mcu!peter parker x stark!f!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), peter loving readers tits, making out, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv, praise

peter and you were sneaking into your father's -tony starks- lab just because he told you not to.

"come on, let's go back...it's a bad idea."

peter said, sounding stressed.

"pete, you always back out at literally everything. like what's the worst that could possibly happen" you said as you both stepped into the lab.

when you were both inside the doors you came in closed, the other exits following.

you looked at your friend which was looking scared as ever.

"i may have forgotten about the security thing... we're gonna be trapped in here for a while, pete."

"how long of a while..?"

"like, um, till dad wakes up and unlocks the doors."

he just stared at you. he looked a bit mad but there was nothing he could do so he just sat onto the floor and petted the floor asking for you to sit with him.

you softly sat next to him and put your head on his shoulder.

"im sorry, peter."

"no, it's ok. don't worry."

"since we're gonna be stuck here for a few hours we might as well get comfy cause this is gonna be a long long night." you said as you reached back and undid your bra and took it off.

"what are you doing?!" peter whisper yelled.

"we're gonna be here for hours, pete! and this bra fucking hurts."

you threw the bra on the floor then laid down and placed your head on peter's thigh and closed your eyes, trying to relax a bit.

his cheeks started to redden and his pants tightened when he saw your nipples showing through your white tank top.

you felt his thigh flex under your head and opened your eyes to see peter staring at your tits with wide eyes and a red face.

"what? you've never seen boobs or something" you joked but peter turned his head away avoiding eye contact like he was embarrassed.

"i mean, i- no. not in real life..." he let out with a huff.

you didn't know what to say. it's was ok that he never did anything intimate with someone because you haven't too but you expected him to see boobs.

"well... wanna see mine?" you asked after a long and weird silence.

"wha- really?"

"mhm... i mean if you want to it's not a big deal."

he opened his mouth to answer but then just nodded. his face was redder than ever and he looked like he was holding his breath.

you sat up and got infront of peter. your body was close to his and you could feel heat radiating from him.

you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted it up. his mouth fell open and his eyes got wide. he looked like at your tits like they were the 8th miracle of the world.

he slightly raised his hand and asked

"c-can i?"

you just nodded to confirm his want.

both of his hands pressed against you. his cold hands against your warm body made you shiver and your nipples harden a bit more. he lightly squeezed the flesh of meat in his hands making you quietly moan. his touch got more intense and he toyed with both of your nipples between his index and thumb, which increased the volume of your moans.

"pete- fuck!"

"can i kiss you?" he asked, still looking hypnotized.

you answered by just smashing your lips against his.

it was unsteady and messy. your tongues danced together and your teeth clashed. you guys kissed like it was long awaited, like you were both waiting for this moment your whole life. your legs straddled his torso as you sat on his lap.

"i've waited so long for this." he confessed.

"there is nothing to stop you ,us, now."

he connected both of your lips again as he toyed with your shorts. he quietly asked for you to get rid of them which you gladly complied. you were left in just a pair of little panties and when he was fully dressed.

"it's not fair you take of your clothes too."

"oh! right, right, yeah."

he took of his shirt and the view infront of your eyes didn't disappoint. he was surprisingly toned and muscular. you ran your fingers over his abs and happy trial.

his pants followed. you could see his hard on pressed against his boxers which made your mouth water.

"you're just...wow, pete."

he chuckled and thanked you.

his hand found its place on your back and laid you onto the floor. he dipped his head down and wrapped his lips around your nipples and sucked and licked on them making you a whimpering mess. he pulled your panties to the side in the mean time and slipped one finger into your warmth. returning the favor, you caressed him through his boxers.

you both got impatient due to the teasing and got bolder. he was pumping two of his fingers into you and playing with your clit at the same time. and you were stroking his length, boxers long gone, sitting on top of the pile of clothes.

"pete...i need you."

he held you by your waist and pressed his chest against yours. his hand held the base of his thick cock and guided the tip against your opening. you lowered your body down, letting him fill you up inch by inch. when you finally fully sat down on his cock you were both panting.

you held onto his shoulders to support yourself as you started moving up and down. his hands were gripping your waist and helping you move.

he nipped and licked at your breasts at the same time making your knees buckle.

"you're doing so, fucking, good, baby. you feel like heaven...fuuuuck." he let out between moans.

"peter, i can't, i- it's too much!" you cried out.

his hand steadied you, making you stop moving.

"hold onto me, love." he simply said.

he started to move his hips up and down as soon as you wrap your arms around his neck. his pace was brutal and needy. he was gasping at the feeling of your wet pussy. one of his fingers came down on your clit and played with the little bud. your needy, throbbing clit finally getting attention made you scream loudly.

“you look so pretty on my dick, baby.”

he praised.

too lost in the moment you guys didn’t hear the footsteps coming closer. even peter, who has super sense, didn’t hear anything due to the pleasure he was receiving.

the door of the lab made a loud sound, making both of your heads turn to look at the door. when peter saw your dad and a few other teammates standing there with wide eyes. he quickly covered up your body with his.

your dad took a deep breath and said

“peter…you’re a dead man.”

[handsomeamoeba]

WRONG.

Try again.

Actually let's get into this. As someone who loves a great many fantasy RPGs including BG3, Skyrim, and Dragon Age, let me explain what BG3 gets that Skyrim misses, in my opinion.

And this is the big one: the characters in BG3 feel like real fucking people. They have backstories, demonstrable feelings about the events and the other characters, they react to the things you do and they develop as people as you further your relationships. Even minor NPCs often feel fleshed out with distinct personalities and opinions. Hell, going out of my way to cast Speak to Animals is usually rewarded with at least one charming remark. I have never given even a little bit of a shit about 99% of Bethesda NPCs. I usually choose to travel without a companion rather than with unless I need a pack mule to carry my stuff, because their primary function seems to be to get in my way, set off traps, or attract aggro. I can't remember most characters' names unless I'm actively playing. I'm more likely to casually murder people in Skyrim than I am in BG3 or DA because Bethesda hasn't really made any of their NPCs feel like real people, and consequentially I feel no guilt. By comparison I tried to do an evil run of DA:O and gave up the instant I had to kill Wynne (the grandmotherly spirit healer) when she refused to let me go through with my plans, because I hated doing it. Lydia will watch me gut an innocent man and do NOTHING because she has no life, existence, or personality outside of me, the player. This extends to romances, obviously. While optional in all the games, most people will pursue a romance path in BG3 or DA for the additional character arcs it brings to the characters, the emotional nuances they unlock. In Skyrim romance is a box you tick of tasks to complete. In fact, once you marry them, most marriage candidates personalities change *completely* because all spouses have the same few stock dialog lines. That is, if they had a personality to begin with (again, see Lydia). You know how everyone wants to romance unromanceable characters in Bethesda games? Like Brynjolf in Skyrim, or Nick Valentine in FO4? It's because Bethesda actually bothered to give them stories and opinions.

Honestly, this extends to the player character themselves. To a certain extent every player character is a blank slate, but in BG3 and DA it at least feels possible to develop a feeling about who that character is and what they would or would not say or do. I've tried to do that with the Dragonborn and rarely feel strong feelings about them or have strong opinions about what kind of person they are. The only one I've made who I have much of an idea about is my wood elf Parafina, who is Chaotic Evil. Which again is an option I only pick because no one in Skyrim feels real.

The stakes also feel more real in BG3, more personal. Obviously there's the central quest involving the tadpoles, but more than that, it is about a credible threat to your world and the people and communities in it and the people you love. There are tons of reasons to invest yourself emotionally in the narrative. I have never, ever completed the main storyline in Skyrim nor picked a side in Skyrim's civil war. Why would it? Basically nothing happens if I choose not to. Furthermore, if you're not playing as a Nord (which I usually don't), why would you care about Skyrim as a place? You are a faceless, voiceless (pun intended) outsider who gets microaggressed at every turn being asked to choose between two different flavors of fascist. Also dragons are back but like... listen, I don't care? They get pretty easy to pick off at a certain point, it's like swatting flies, they're just a nuisance on the way to my daily errands. And isn't that such a common story? Don't you know so many people who don't really bother with the main storylines of Skyrim? Yeah it's one of the bestselling games of all time but I feel like the fact that most people don't really care about its narrative should be a sign of failure. We all know it's mostly maintained its popularity due to the modding community.

Ultimately both games have rich worlds which reward exploration with little secrets and environmental storytelling. But BG3 feels more "meaningful" because they give me reasons to care about what happens. The writers worked hard to give the game emotional resonance. So I come to the two games for different experiences. I go to BG3 to engage with an interesting story. I go to Skyrim for the quick serotonin hit of completing tasks and hoarding items.

[scara-meow-che]

「 💭 」⠀overstimulating master diluc and cavalry captain kaeya because you simply can't get enough of them!

cw. NSFW (MDNI), afab! reader, reposted and edited work :D, multiple orgasms, messy (so fucking messy), an unnormal amount of cum, riding, cock slapping, m/s dynamics, oral (m), breeding, baby trapping, orgasm denial, bit of dubcon (kaeya says 'no more' one time)

D I L U C

diluc’s grunts echoed in his study, the objects littering his desk clattering from how rough you were moving against him. his hands were tight on your hips, teeth softly biting down on the soft flesh of your breasts before his tongue starts licking on your hardened and sensitive nipples.

he is too good, always too good for you. always giving you what you want, treating you as his queen, pleasuring you just the way you want to. you have him wrapped around your finger, always there to present the best this crooked world has to offer. he just loves you that much.

“hng~ you’re so hard inside of me, master diluc.”

Keep reading

the tips of your fingers slowly dig themselves on his shoulder, successfully keeping you in place. his shaft was hot, prodding so deep inside your walls, hitting every spot that would send tingles throughout your body. you can feel each nerve of his dicl twitching whenever your walls tighten around it, hearing more of his deep voice grunting in pleasure.

you love it, you love it, you love it. “always wanna keep you inside me, make me your lil’ breeding doll master 'luc~.”

diluc is a man who had his fair share of people slurring on their words on the daily, mind barely processing the words before they’ve been spoken. but yours sends a different wave of craving inside of him, the heat grew unbearable when your eyes flash him this unyielding desire to be bred, wanting to have more of your fucked-dumb state and it’s only because of him.

“you’d want me to fuck a baby inside of you?” you felt him lifting himself up, putting a hand underneath your thighs just to thrust himself back inside your awaiting hole.

"hm~ yes please. give me your baby, i'll be a good lil' mommy!"

words slurring but your body still so responsive every time he'd ram himself deeper in your cunt, if hearts can protrude from his eyes then maybe diluc had showered you more of this fiery desire the time you started to want him like this. this feral longing to be full of his cum awakened this carnal hunger in him, his hips speeding up just so he won't leave your sensitive cunt empty.

you can feel him so close, so big, aching and twitching to let go of his cum. there was nothing in your mind but the feeling of being full of his warm load. and the mere thought had your walls spasming, reeling at how the tip of his cock prods on your sweet spots while his pelvic bone brushes along your puffy clit.

The feeling was amazing, you can't stop how your body shakes under diluc's hold. but he doesn't stop, continuing to rut himself back your tight and warm walls. diluc bit on his lips, holding back the moans, focusing on how much he doesn't want to cum yet. but you've made it impossible for him to speak another word, pulling him close around your body, both arms on his neck to keep him bound to you.

"cum for me, master diluc. breed me, fill me up~" you whispered with teary eyes, triggering his own orgasm. it felt too strong, his balls felt so sensitive at how much he came inside of you. he was panting, legs shaking but his arms kept him stable on top of you.

he could almost collapse from how intense it was, feeling loads of his energy disappear. as he's about to pull away, you kept your arms around his neck and started kissing his cheeks, his neck, and his lips. "one more? make sure to knock me up, please."

"one more?" he asks, voice shifting mockingly as if to taunt your disheveled state but the smile on your face had him choking on his words after you followed your sweet grin with a thrust of your cunt back to his still hard cock.

"s-shit, you really need to be knocked up properly, yeah? one load isn't enough for you, princess? what a c-cumwhore you are." he had it difficult spitting out those foul words when he continues to feel the warmth brought by your hole. you aimlessly nodded your head in agreement, pushing more of yourself closer to his hot body. diluc shuddered, hips stuttering as his cock pulsed inside your warm walls, feeling how much he's spilling inside of you.

he wants to pull away, to take a brief pause from how pussy drunk he already is but the sweet smile on your face, gentlehands tugging on his hair, lips kissing anywhere it can reach, diluc felt himself moving along with the sloppy thrusts you're giving him. he's addicted to the slight pain on the pit of his stomach, the wet sounds of your cum-coated ass hit by his balls, the wrecked yet excited expression you pull off beautifully, yes, he's addicted this this pleasurable pain you're making him experience.

"yes and i hope master diluc has it in him to fill me up until he's sucked dry~."

K A E Y A

"just be a good boy and let me suck you dry."

kaeya whimpers, fingers digging on the smooth leather covering the couch of your home. he bites down on his lips, feeling another round of moans about to spill out from his throat. he looks down at you, doe eyes hitting him with so much warmth that it sent tingles down his spine and blood to his already hard cock, causing it to twitch in your hand.

and that little movement isn't gone unnoticed by you, smiling as you start to softly pump up and down on his shaft. nimble fingers started to caress his balls as well, making kaeya buckle up on his seat. you look at his sweating form, his chest glistens underneath the light inside your home. 'you're so adorable like this, kaeya. are you ready?"

he nods, waiting the satisfying feeling of your lips kissing on the tip smeared messily with precum. he's so eager, so good for you that you can't help but give him what he wants so you start smothering the pretty head of his cock, his hips shaking from how good he felt with just the littlest movement on his dick.

"want to cum, kae?" you whispered, slowly moving down to kiss the side of his shaft, leaving gentle pecks on each nerve protruding on his skin. he nods, faster than he expected to. "use your words kae or i'd make you forget to use them."

"yes please, i want to cum f/n."

"good boy, kae. i love you, ' love you so much." and you felt this slight twitch on your hand and you felt beads of cum squirting out, ruining the shirt you're wearing as it stains it white. kaeya felt so embarrassed from how quickly he came for you, just hearing how you love him had him on his knees, submissive to the burning touches you leave on his body, compliant to every word you say as he could only trust and listen to you.

despite how much he wants to shrink and hide away, your suprised expression that shifted into a smirking one had him nailed down the couch, accepting the warmth that soon engulfed half his cock in one go. he groans and followed to moan when you suckled on the tip before letting it go with a pop. he was about to raise his hand and pull you back on his cock, wanting to feel more of your mouth around him but you slapped him away before he can do so.

"be a good boy and don't move. let me milk you dry, baby. letme do it, yeah?"

he looks down on you, his eyes watering from how painful it is to feel his cock waits for stimulation but receives nothing. "yes, i will. please, make me cum."

hearing his pleas, you continued and licked the tip to clean out all the cum, rubbing the side of his cock with vigor, spreading the spit you left from shoving half of it inside your mouth. he was hot and hard on your hands, the head letting go of so much cum whenever you went to focus on sucking on it. his moans were deep, smooth and pretty like he always is.

in a few minutes of sucking, licking and bobbing your hands on his dick, kaeya can feel his abdomen tightening. "i'm about to cum, f-fuck. i'm so close."

before he could even do, you pulled away and let his hard cock hit his stomach. he whimpered, thighs stuttering from having his orgasm denied until the feeling died down. "did i tell you that you could already cum?"

"n-no," he replied as he calm down but he didn't get another second to pull himself back when you went to spit on the tip of his sensitive tip before shoving down half his length until you finally had him deep inside your throat.

"you will not cum unless i said so. i will still milk you dry only if you heed to my commands. understood?" he nods but that doesn't convince you. "you keep on saying yes but you keep disobeying me. are you testing my patience, kae?"

"but i'm not, i really don't."

"hm, as long as you behave then i'll reward you."

and he behaves, listens and lets you do what you want on him. biting on the skin of his thighs, massaging his balls, licking from the base all the way to the head, sucking on the tip until he's too sensitive to hold himself back from coming. he looks so pretty, always so pretty for you as your hand got stained with his load that doesn't seem to stop from coming out of his cock.

"see? if you'd just stay and be good for me then you'd get to cum like this kae. want more?" a few of your words are already unaudible for him but he keens on your last sentence.

"n-no more, please f/n."

"no more? wrong answer kae." you shake your head, frowning when you looked up at him. "but you haven't cum inside my mouth kae, would you really let that opportunity go to waste?"

he is silent besides the heavy panting from his body. "answer me kae," you demanded, lifting four of your fingers and gave his cock a light slap on the head. kaeya groans in pain but his body twitches in delight. "you have such an honest body but a liar of a mind. what should i do to you, hm?"

as unfair as it sounds, you can't help but focus your gaze on his cock, standing proudly on your hand, stiff and pulsing when you gave it a short pump of your fingers. "or would you rather cum inside my cunt? you're choice kae."

even when he thinks he can no longer cum from how much you made him do so, you still had him pushing more of his load out and it either lands on your hands or on your mouth. he looks down on his legs and can he himself still hard and eager. he really has a honest body and can't help but feel excited when he sees you removing every article of clothing on your body, settling your legs between his thighs, rubbing the overstimulated cockhead on your clit before aligning it with your wet entrance.

"i told you kae, i will suck you dry so be a good boy, will you? "

[nothomegal]

"Safe and sound"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Summary: after being caught and claimed by the executioner, Silent Hill became a rather tranquil for you. However, a one particular entity, or rather entities, of this town kept bugging you anyways... Pun no intended.

Warning: mention of bugs and/or insects crawl on (Y/N)(?)

World count: 1.2k (kinda short ik hshalsdha)

(sorry if this is freaky, but I literaly dreamed about something similar and I just had to write it down hahdajkdha)

Waking up in this place is a bittersweet experience, on one hand, it's nice to wake up with some extra energy to tolerate the surrounding nonsense, but on the other one, it hurts and sucks to realize that one is still trapped in this hellhole. And today, (Y/N) woke up with the negative thought, but the sight of the broad muscular chest of their lover made their 'morning' a bit better, and also more flustering.

The shift from sleepy and grumpy to shy and akward seemed to amuse the beast, as he let out an low rumble, which resembled a purr.

—"Y-Yeah yeah... Good morning to you too."— you say a bit shy, looking away and gripping his clothes.

Though they don't look away for too long, because soon a large hand grabs their jaw and moves their head just enough for Pyra to see their face. Oh how much he adored that flustered and innocent expression of theirs, a great contrast from the faces of pain and horror he've seen on his daily basis before meeting (and then pursuing) (Y/N).

The mentioned person simply stares back at his massive metal helmet, slowly and involuntarily melting into his warm touch.

—"Do you really like to stare at my face so much?"—

As an answer, Pyra gives them a little squeeze on their cheeks and let out another low amused purr when (Y/N) tries to pull away.

—"He-Hey! Nyo, shtop!"—

Pyra messes with them for a bit longer, clearly enjoying to see them getting upset as they speak funny. This little playfight ends up with the beast wrapping his arms around his little human and pulling them back against his torso, letting them know that he's not ready to let them go, not just yet.

(Y/N) simply sighs and accepts their fate, this is still better than having their face licked and end up with saliva all over it. They start to get comfortable but...

—"Ah...- Aah-!"— you yelp suddenly as your body shivers violently.

Pyra instantly let go of them, allowing (Y/N) to sit up and put their hand underneath their shirt to then pull it out, holding...

A creeper.

That goddamn stupid roach-

—"AGH! For fuck's sake!"— you exclaim as you throw the insect against a wall.

Call this animal cruelty or whatever, but when these little shits keep crawling under your clothes and shirt every damn time you lay down and doze off for a moment, one kinda becomes annoyed with it. And feel their insect limbs and scaly body cling and brush against your soft skin or make the low hissing noises whenever you try to pull them away is straight up disgusting! Ew!

(Y/N) then lift their shirt, to make sure they spot any sneaky ones, and of course there is another one because life sucks. Yet this one resulted to be more stubborn.

—"Ugh, just get off! Is there really no other creature whose warmth you could leach on?!"— you grumble angrily as you try to shake the insect away, yet it kept clinging to your sleeve tightly.

Thankfully their struggles didn't last long, a single growl from the massive beast was enough to set the little roach-like thing into flee, quickly crawling away from them and disappearing into a random crack on the wall.

After a second check and coming out clean, (Y/N) let out a relieved sigh as they fix their clothes a bit.

—"Thanks... Sorry for the yelling, but I'm just tired of waking up with these little shits on me."— you admit tiredly. —"I mean, I'm no snowflake and definetely can handle them crawling on me, but when they go under my shirt..."— you instinctively shiver after mentioning that.

Pyra does nothing at first, not even a movement or a sound. (Y/N) knows that sometimes he goes into this stiff position, and it never fails to kinda freak them out because it's impossible to tell if he's thinking or holding back his anger.

He eventually moves, which caused them to flinch a bit because it was way too sudden. Pyra then began to slowly uncover his torso by opening the upper part of his vest while (Y/N) simply stares at him with a confused and kinda concerned expression, oh god don't tell his possesion over them made him feel lustful again-.

Luckly, Pyra seems not interested in any heated activities (for now). He remains completely still again with his vest opened, revealing his torso all the way down to his toned and scarred abdomen as he 'stares' back at (Y/N), like expecting them to do something.

They remain quiet and hesitant, eyes flickering between his torso and his helmet until it finally clicks.

—"Hold up... You want me to get in there?"— you raise your brow.

A metallic clank resonated from Pyra as he tilts his helmet slightly, movement resembling a nod. (Y/N) blinks a couple of times before doing as told, they're not sure what Pyra's plan is but they won't question it, and if he wanted to take them he'd ripped off their clothes a while ago-.

They slowly slide inside of his vest, their body getting a little spine chill at the sudden warmth of the beast's bare skin, it feels even warmer when exposed. They settle down, their head resting on his chest and their body slightly curled in a ball. The monster then closes his vest, wrapping the clothes around (Y/N) and keeping it closed with his arms wrapped around their smaller form.

Do you know how an owner sometimes let their cat hand out inside of their shirt? Well this is basically the same, but instead of the owner and a cat, it's a giant piramid headed beast and his little lovely human (Y/N).

Despite how weird of an idea it may seem, this is incredibly comfortable and cozy, (Y/N) just can't help but to nuzzle into Pyra's chest as they let out a content hum.

—"Not gonna lie, that's a very clever idea."— you momentarily stop nuzzling, then give a small kiss on one of his pecs before comfortably settling in place again. —"Thank you, really."—

A pleased rumble resonated from Pyra's helmet, making his chest and (Y/N) vibrate a bit. They slowly start to doze off again, and the little gentle nuzzling from the beast against their back isn't making their task to stay awake any easier. The sound of his breathing also resulted incredibly soothing, the way his chest raise and fall with each large breath he takes only lulls them further into sleep.

They feel one large hand slide up and rest in the back of their head, pressing them further against him in a protective manner. They involuntarely smile, childishly grin at the though of them being the only living thing to ever witness and experience this side of the fearsome executioner, who will do anything to keep other creatures away from them, him being the one and only allowed to be this close to (Y/N).

A sane mind would tell that such obsession and posessiveness is absolutely awful, but who said (Y/N) is sane? They lost it the moment they accepted to be taken away by the monster, or maybe they never even had any sanity in the first place! Who knows? Who cares? They surely not, not when they can enjoy being in the beast's arms, bathing in his warmth, listening his heartbeat...

Being kept truly safe and sound.