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#please. please. I just need someone I love to leave with. I’m not willing to do it on my own
butch--dean · 9 months
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Counting down the days until I finally find my wife (gender neutral) and we can leave the god forsaken city for a small rural town
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emmaspolaroid · 2 years
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so Norman definitely thought Emma and Ray weren’t coming back from the Seven Walls right he thought they were all walking right to their deaths and he had forgotten that hope isn’t supposed to be a lie you tell others and stopped listening to his heart so long ago that he forgot that he wants to live……….
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aajjks · 11 days
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Pu$$y Drunk (m)
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synopsis. an insatiable pussy hungry Toji Fushiguro.
warnings: 18+ thèmès, èxplïcït cöntènt, smüt, püssy hüngry tójí, bèggïng (yùmmy), ôrál sèx (fèm rècíèvíng), fèràl tójí, nèèdy tôjí, prófáníty, tôngúè fückíng. MDNI
note. Toji makes my brain rot so here we go. if this is shitty to you. I am so sorry but if you like it, oh my God, yay. Oh my God guys enjoy and please follow me hehe, like this and re-blog this because I know some of you need this *wink*
header not mine, cr to owner, I found it on Pinterest!
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“The fuck yn.. please don’t make me fuckin beg, baby.”
He doesn’t really like to beg because he’s always getting used to what he wants, especially from you. He doesn’t mean it in a good way, but you are quite easy.
But he doesn’t blame you because he is irresistible, and really fucking charming and sexy. And he knows that.
“Fuck.. please please I need this..” he says, looking into your eyes as he is parting your legs further apart.
you know that your resistance? it’s useless but it’s just fun to see him like this.
You really like it when he’s desperate like this. He needs to know that you control him. It’s fun to be in control of someone like him.
“eh I’m not interested OK.”
You reply, dryly. Suddenly your nails looks so interesting to you as you stare at your nails, avoiding his eyes because you know that his eyes get you weak.
His eyes are so… sexy.
Everything about him is sexy. “Nooo you don’t understand. I really need this.”
Toji doesn’t stop trying to pry your legs apart, you are no match to him when it comes to strength. But he knows what you want and he’s willing to give it to you.
As long as he gets to eat your pussy.
“Look at me yn! fuck— fuck, look at me baby.” He says, his voice deep and soft. “Please fuckin let me eat your pussy?” He says in a soft tone.
He can be soft if you want.
“Fuck… you know how much I love this pretty pussy of yours, the only thing that gets me goin’ you know it!”
Your heart flutters.
He groans, a smirk takes over his features as he manages to put some distance between your legs.
Oh, he loves your pink panties.
“So fuckin pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh, his skilled fingers grabbing the hem of your panties as he drags it downwards.
“Mhmm smells so good..” Toji sniffs, your resolve has already weakened and now you’re fucking horny
His words are doing things to you, you want to rub your legs together but you can’t. “A-Agh stop talking!” You finally manage to get it out.
But he only continues to kiss your inner thigh, and he slips one of his fingers gently inside your awaiting cunt.
You gasp, he sighs.
“Ohhh so tight already, goodness you’re already wet yn..” he speaks in such a low tone, you can barely hear him, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself… but you’re now to engrossed into the feeling of his finger inside you.
“a-ah..” you let out a sound, so pretty that he adds another one, stretching you out, it feels so fucking good.
“Oh baby.. fuck.” He starts to piston them in and out, you’re soaking, groaning as he teases you.
“Oh fucking stop it and fuck me with your tongue please!” You finally say it, Toji has you exactly where he wants.
He’s won, like always.
Even if it took a little bit of begging.
“Ahh okay okay.. fuck I love you.” He laughs, a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth and soon it’s on your pussy, attacking it with a vigorous passion.
The hunger is so intense as you feel his tongue deep and directly into your pussy, Toji licks, spits and licks again.
He’s just started but he’s so messy, too desperate to care. Your pussy drives him crazy.
His tongue feels so hot, avd wet as he explores your right walls with it, you’re fucking dripping as he eats you out furiously.
“nghhh mhmm ahhgnmmm!!~”
The noises, oh the noises, he’s so vocal, shamelessly so, your moans are uncontrollably loud too. You’re both such a mess.
Your legs begin to shake so you grip on his shoulders, his grip on your hips steadies you, you sigh in relief.
“oh fuck ohh..” you cuss, feeling your own orgasm building up. You instinctively push his head deeper, his mouth is so sloppy yet so skilled.
“ngh- Ahh baby don’t stop mhm..” you breathe out.
“Oh I— ngmmm— won’t.. just cum f’me.” He continues to eat you out, sucking your soul through your pussy so eagerly.
Only Toji can do that.
“A-Aghhh yess I’m- o-oh- I’m gonna cum.” You reply in a cry, your moans keep on rolling out of your agape mouth and his pace fastens, his tongue working extra hard.
And you cum all over his mouth, inside his mouth.
a loud moan of pleasure leaves him as he starts to lap at it.
“nghh such a good fuckin girl- mhm..”
You’re so exhausted, your visions blurry as you recover, try to recover from your orgasm, but when you think he’ll let go, suddenly his grip tightens even more.
“n-not *breathes* enough. Need more… cum for me *breathes* again…”
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thelostconsultant · 1 month
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Secrets
pairing: Lestappen x reader
summary: Charles convinces you to join his relationship with Max.
warnings: Well, not much, except for mentions of sexual activities, unprotected sex (wrap it, guys) and pregnancy.
note: Just little snippets stitched together to give you a glimpse into their life.
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The plan began to form in Charles’s head when it was announced you would become his race engineer from the 2024 season. As you got closer and got to know each other better, he began to flirt with you, making it quite clear that he wanted something from you, and when he kissed you for the first time, feeling it in his bones that he got you, he finally told you the truth. 
“There’s something you should know,” he told you softly with his hand resting on your cheek. “I’ve been in a relationship for a good… three years now, but me and my partner are looking for someone to play with, someone who would be willing to be a part of our little secret.”
“Why do you keep it a secret?” you asked him, flashing a curious look at him. 
Charles let out a long sigh as he thought about what to say to that. “We are trying to avoid a scandal.”
“So it’s someone people know. Hmm… If I was held at gunpoint and they told me to name one person you might be in a controversial relationship with, my first guess would be Max, but–” When you came to a sudden halt, he knew his expression gave away his surprise that you figured it out on your own. Well, he wasn’t that good at keeping a poker face after all. “No way,” you said slowly, your voice suddenly dropping. 
He smiled at you after shaking off the bad feeling he had. You wouldn’t rat them out, he could tell, but now he was worried you would say no and it would change the way you work together. “Now you know, but please, this has to stay between us.”
You nodded your head a few times. “Sure, I won’t tell a soul.” There was a short pause, but then you looked back at him and said, “So how long have you been looking for a third member for this relationship?”
“We weren’t actively searching. When I met you, I found you attractive, then I got to know you better and realized I like your personality too. Max heard a lot of stories about you, and he was also attracted, so we just came to the rational conclusion that we would love to have you,” he explained. 
You agreed pretty easily. Sure, you did point out that it was only a pilot period, you wanted to see if this could even work, but that was more than enough for Charles. And soon enough you fell in love with them the same way they fell in love with you, and being together in this relationship became the new normal for you.
During race weekends the two of you could spend a lot more time together, easily slipping into his driver’s room to have some fun, but times like this you usually put extra effort into showing Max how much you loved him when you got him in your company again.
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Charles was in an extremely good mood in the evening, and when Max finally arrived, he was immediately pulled into a hungry kiss, his back pressed against the now closed door. “Good drive today, pretty boy,” the Dutchman praised him as he placed kisses along his jawline. “Wish we could talk a little more.”
“We can talk now,” he said before letting out a short laugh and slipping out of his grasp to move towards the kitchen. 
Max shook his head with a smile as he glanced into the living room. “Where’s our princess?” he asked with a confused look as he followed the other man.
“Left to take care of something. Actually, it’s good that she’s not here, because I need to talk to you,” Charles said as he passed his boyfriend a glass of soda, who seemed much more interested in what he was about to hear. Rolling his eyes, Charles reached out to take his hand. “Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m not planning to break up with you. I was thinking about why she wanted to go on a date. Do you think she wants to leave us?”
“No, I don’t think so. But… I don’t know, I once overheard a conversation she had with a friend or relative, and she was trying to explain to them why she hasn’t been in a relationship for a while,” he admitted. 
As he sat on a barstool, Charles let out a thoughtful hum. “It’s a good thing you mentioned this, because my idea could actually help this issue,” he began, earning a questioning look. “Maybe it’s time to make things official for our sake.” Max shook his head, but before he could say anything, he went on. “Not us, dummy. I know we agreed to keep it a secret for a few more years. I’m talking about you and her. Just hear me out. I can be seen in her company because she’s my race engineer and we’re friends as far as people know. But you? You’re on a different team, people think we don’t like each other. So if she was dating you, you wouldn’t have to feel left out even on race weekends, and I could jump over to meet her, even if she’s with you.”
With a thoughtful hum, Max rested his forearms on the kitchen island. “That’s… actually… not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “Have you told her about this?”
“No, not yet. I was waiting for you,” came the response. 
Nodding, he moved to stand behind him and wrapped his arms around his body. “Are you sure about this?” Charles let out a confirming hum in response. “Well, if she’s on board, I say let’s do this,” he replied before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
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Max woke up to the sound of you vomiting in the bathroom. He quickly jumped out of bed to see what was up with you, and when he opened the door, he saw you sitting on the floor with tears in your eyes. With a worried look, he kneeled next to you and kissed the top of your head. “Stomach flu?” he asked you softly. But you shook your head at this, carefully avoiding his gaze. “Tell me, what’s wrong? You’re hiding something.”
“What’s going on?” came Charles’s groggy voice from the door. When Max looked over at him, he saw the way he was rubbing his eyes, but then he focused on the two of you on the floor and quickly woke up. “You okay?”
You groaned, then flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your face. “I’m fine,” you replied defensively. 
“What are you hiding from us?” Max pressed on, knowing you well enough to sense there was more to the story. 
A minute or two passed in tense silence while they waited for you to finally speak up. Charles moved to be by your side as support, but he was stopped right away. He meant well, but this wasn’t the time to play nice. Max wanted answers, and if he had to be harsh to get them, he was willing to do it. And his strategy worked, because you finally took a deep breath and turned around to rest your hips against the sink. 
Your eyes moved back and forth between the two of them as you said, “I’m pregnant.”
Charles gasped next to him, barely able to hide his bright smile, but Max was hesitant. You had been with them for almost a year, and you had been publicly dating him for a while too, but this? This he wasn’t expecting. It’s not that he wasn’t happy, because he was. But you looked scared and maybe even ashamed, and this was killing him. So he quickly rushed over to you to cup your face with a smile on his face. 
“Are you sure?” When you nodded, he kissed your forehead. “I love you, sweet girl.”
“You’re gonna be a great mom,” Charles added as he joined you and put his arms on your shoulders. “So… I’m gonna ask. Who’s the father?” he wondered out loud with raised eyebrows. 
Shrugging, you looked down at your hands. “I don’t know. I’m on the pill, but both of you doofuses tend to forget to use a goddamn condom, so it could be either of you,” you mumbled. 
Max looked over at his boyfriend as he bit on his lower lip, feeling guilty since they had agreed at the beginning not to do this. But based on the look on Charles’s face, he wasn’t the only one thinking about this. Of course, this was nothing new for the two of them, they had discussed their preference to fuck you raw countless times, but they never explicitly told you about this. But you weren’t stupid, you just probably loved them enough to let them do what they wanted as long as you all tested yourselves on a regular basis. 
“Are you mad at us?” Charles asked cautiously, but you just shook your head. “Then what’s wrong? I can see there’s something else you’re not telling us.”
“That’s not how you wanted to become parents,” you eventually told them. 
The sentence made Max’s heart clench, and he could tell Charles felt just the same based on the look they exchanged. They had told you about their plan to one day either use a surrogate mother or adopt a child depending on how things stood in their lives. Adoption seemed to be the winning option at the time as they couldn’t decide whose biological child should it be if they chose the surrogacy option. 
But things had changed since then, a lot of things happened and their feelings also changed. Once the Monegasque nodded, Max took a deep breath and prepared to tell you what they were both thinking about at the moment. 
“We love you. Yes, we did have different options in our heads at the time we talked about this, but now you fully belong to us. Our gorgeous and smart girlfriend is pregnant from one of us,” he said with a smile as he tipped your head to make you look at him. “It’s so much better than anything we could dream of. You should be happy now. We’re here, we love you, we’re going to support you the whole time.”
On his side, Charles let out a quiet chuckle, then kissed your temple. “You’re not getting rid of us, baby, don’t even think about it.”
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note2: I just wanted a little glimpse into their lives. I don't know if I should write more about them, little snippets or text or idk.
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joosthead · 3 months
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SMUT PROMPT 2 PLZZZ
just too soft for all of it || j.k. f!reader
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₊˚⊹⋆ prompt(s): 2S) crying crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over & 3F)  gently pushing their hair behind their ear to see their face better
₊˚⊹⋆ reader: f!reader, no pronouns, reader gets referred to as his “favourite girl” one time. notfamous!reader lol also does not speak dutch
₊˚⊹⋆ word count: 4.4k
₊˚⊹⋆ cw: smut (fingering, piv), a good amount of negative self thought (i may have gone overboard—feeling inadequate as a partner, reader is very hard on themself and quite sensitive), mentions of anxiety/stress/being overwhelmed, a very fluffy and healthy joost :( aur i love him anyways, pls heed the prompt cuz that in itself is a content warning teehee, 🧀🧀🧀alert i can’t lie!!, a variety of dutch terms of endearment i'm not sure i’m using right but it’s for the sake of no y/n
₊˚⊹⋆ track of the fic: "sweet nothing" by taylor swift
₊˚⊹⋆ junote: i resonate heavy with this 🙃🙃 had the worst last few weeks of this uni year but i’m FREE!!!! thanks for requesting this, i combined this with a few other asks stated above! happy first juno joost fic to meee yippeee
rpf ahead—don't like it, don't read it!! you've been warned. please do not repost this on any other platform.
18+ only — explicit rpf content ahead, minors dni.
To say the utter least—it had been a hard few weeks for you. 
The whims of life carried you away like a tsunami to your normal routine—work and classes and friends and family and life, life that you couldn’t ignore or get away from like you wanted to do, nothing to do except doing it. And you’d been doing it, just fine for the most part, but one thing led to another, and the last week was a whirlwind of commitments, obligations, your procrastinating on all of them, somehow. You got yourself into a mess of your own making. 
It certainly didn’t help that your boyfriend, Joost, was away for his own life: a festival performance in Canada, one in Belgium, one in the Netherlands but not one you could attend easily with all of the work you had for yourself. After that, he worked on the new album in Germany, putting the final touches on his 9th project, filming new content and preparing for his upcoming tour. 
He left around the beginning of when your life started getting busier. If you added it up—23 days you hadn’t seen him in person, but it’s not like you were counting (you were counting, and sad the entire time about his absence.). It felt like the same amount of time you hadn’t even seen or talked to him, through the phone, on Facetime, even texting each other.
Voice memos in the bathroom at work, always apologizing for how rushed you had to be; leaving him on delivered for hours as you studied, or had an event you needed to be at, or had a person you needed to talk to, someone else who needed your time more than Joost needed yours, and it was too much. All of it was too much. Too much for you to handle easily, every second taken by someone else. 
You felt like a terrible partner, not being able to speak to him as much as you wanted. Seeing all of his messages, the reassurance that he understands how busy you are and that in the end, you'll always make time for each other…his ability to be such a good partner held up next to your perceived inadequacy made you even more stressed. 
In the end, it’ll all work out—today, Joost flew back home, though you still had a number of commitments and assignments to get to and couldn’t pick him up from the airport. Your mutual friend picked him up, and you bit your nails at every update given; willing the time to go slower so you could tidy up more, work on that one last piece of paperwork so you wouldn’t have to worry about it, make sure everything is perfect so Joost can have a good welcome back.
In the nick of time, you were able to get everything done, but it still felt as if there was something missing, like you'd be hit with a missed deadline in the midst of your time back together, and it would all come crumbling down. 
As you opened the door, right as your friend pulled up to your street, you tried to put it aside, and you did—for now. Late afternoon and you stand at the top of your townhouse steps, watching in nervous excitement as Joost unloads his luggage from the trunk. Your friend closes the trunk and waves at you.
You wave back, but your eyes are on Joost as he gathers the two suitcases and starts rolling them to you in a sort of disorganized frenzy, just as excited as you are; you would come forward and help, but it’s cute to watch him, clumsy and stumbling over his long pants and tote bag and everything—your Joost, finally back with you. 
He wears a heavy black jacket, sunglasses, a black cap that he takes off and shakes his hair out of; the sun shines off him, and you can't help but smile at the sight. His hair grew out a little, the darker blonde roots growing in. Those jeans are ones you’ve never seen before, new glasses, new clunky boots that look greatly uncomfortable but perfectly his style. Evidence of the time passed, and for some strange reason, it brings a pang to your chest that you try to ignore as you come down the steps of your house. 
“Come here, come here, come here, baby, I missed you,” Joost exclaims, arms open and leaving his bags behind him to come meet you halfway, laughing. 
You say as you hug him around his neck, his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t pick—” 
“Don’t worry about it, I know you were busy.” 
You nod as he moves his arms around your neck and you go around his waist, Joost pecking your cheek several times and making you laugh. “I still feel bad I couldn’t pick you up.”
“Never feel bad, you’d still be the best even if you left me on the side of the road.” You give him and his compliment a weak smile as you pull away. 
The first time you get a moment to yourself in a month: Joost’s head lays in your lap as you both watch some cartoon on the couch together after eating. 
You cleaned most of yesterday and some of today; you cooked most of last night since you knew you had more time, preparing Joost’s favorite meal—it was the best you could reasonably do, considering all of the other obligations you had in these last two days. 
As he ate, you pushed around your own food; would’ve made it fresh, could've had a nice table setting for dinner, should’ve prepared more for all of this. You still gave him a sheepish smile as you watched him happily eat the microwaved meal you warmed up for him, no indication at all that he’s disappointed or unhappy like you are with yourself. You shouldn’t feel like this, but you do. It’s getting increasingly difficult to shake. 
The colors and lines dance across the TV, spouting raunchy jokes that you can half understand with the few years of Dutch you have under your belt; the air conditioner is on, and you can finally rest. Joost is changed out of his airport outfit and into some shorts and a shirt. He’s home, and you did the best you could do, and now he’s in your arms again. 
You don’t even mean to, but you sigh, perhaps louder than usual, because Joost looks up at you from your lap, brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes, says, “You’re the best, you know?” 
It catches you off guard enough that you shake your head almost instinctively, not fast enough to hide…whatever feeling this is you’re feeling. “I don’t feel like it, Joosty.” 
“You don’t?” He gets up from your lap, sitting next to you, and brings his face close to yours. “You should, because you are.” 
Your noses are brushing, and even in the midst of your racing thoughts, you can't help but smile at him. His face grows into a smile, and you come forward and kiss him, deeply; you know it takes him by surprise, how he takes a little to kiss back, like trying to learn each other again. Nonetheless, he kisses back, holding your face in his hands, grinning into it—he's so pleased, so content, you know it by how sweetly he holds you. 
The TV becomes background noise to you, the air conditioner no use with how hot you feel when you move to sit atop him in his lap, one of his hands on the small of your back, the other on your ass as you grind down on him, licking into his mouth. 
“You're so tense,” Joost says when you pull away, thumbs rubbing into your back where there are sure to be knots in your muscles. 
You roll your eyes. “Can you blame me?” you snicker and he smiles. 
“I’ll relieve some tension for you, then.” 
Nothing but a few layers of clothes separate you—he smells so good, tastes so good, feels so good that you pull away, run your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm body, his stomach. You move to take it off of him, and he’s a step ahead of you, taking it off himself and attaching his lips to yours again, like a magnet. 
“You’re not wasting any time,” he says as you rest your hands on his chest and kiss down his stubble covered jaw to his neck, on top of Lola Bunny and back up again. 
“I need you, Joost,” you breathe in between kisses, and he pulls back and groans which makes you giggle, “What is that supposed to mean?” 
“You can't just say that, oh my god,” Joost whines, looking up at you pathetically, pupils blown and lips swollen from yours. “That’s so hot,” he laughs, and it makes you laugh too, how ridiculous he is. “Fuck, I love you.” He comes back in for one more kiss before he shifts so you can lay down on the couch, and he's on top of you, kissing again. He helps you shimmy down your shorts, your underwear, and in no time—his hand is between your legs.
“I would have taken it slow but—I’m too excited,” he breathes. You palm his hard cock through his shorts, coaxing a sigh out of him. Joost hovers above, leaning on one elbow and using the other hand to run his fingers through your slit, wetting them with how aroused you are. Involuntarily, your legs twitch, your breath catches in your mouth, and Joost gives you a soft laugh. “You’re so sensitive, schat.” Fingers still touching you so gently, he noses at your cheek—you’re a hairpin trigger, how reactive you are to him. “Has it been that long?” 
Breathless, you nod as he presses his thumb to your clit, petting at it. “Too long, I was waiting for you.”
“I could say the same for you.” 
You sit up, pushing up against him, still kissing like you can’t bear to be separated from him, but he pulls back from you—brings two fingers to his mouth, wetting them with his spit, and the sight brings your heart to your stomach with how arousing it is. 
Sure, Joost sends videos; yes, you have…homemade…videos of your own between the two of you; his deep voice through the speaker in your late night Facetimes, talking you through it or his incessant compliments when you send him some pictures of your own. 
Nothing compares to the real thing—the smell of his cologne on his collar even after he’s taken a shower; his blonde hair in your eyes as he kisses you; holding onto his strong arms as he fingers you, the wet sound music to your ears though normally, it would make you sheepish at how filthy this all is.  
Sometimes it makes you laugh that the random guy you met with a Crazy Frog tattoo on his forearm is now your boyfriend, but it feels so serious now more than ever. You realize now how much you’ve missed him, and how much you’ve pushed down that feeling in favor of everything else. 
Joost crooks his fingers inside of you and you moan into his mouth, which he smiles at. “You like it?” he asks, both of you knowing the answer. He knows you so well, inside and out. Knows that spot inside of you that renders you unable to speak, how to hit it just right like it’s muscle memory to fuck you with his fingers. He rubs your clit at the same time, using his spit and your wetness to do so, and God—you wish never leaving this spot was an option. 
Your climax fast approaches you; Joost kissing at the side of your lips, your chin because you’re too lost in your pleasure to kiss back. With a few more pumps of his fingers, he brings you there, a choked moan tumbling from your mouth as you cum, almost falling into him as he takes you through the last waves of your orgasm. “Thank you,” you breathe, pressing a deep kiss to his lips again now that you have the ability to. 
“Thanking me? Nothing to thank me for,” he says, but you shake your head.
“I disagree,” you say quietly, palming over his erection once more now that you’ve gathered yourself. “I have everything to thank you for,” you think, but can’t say out loud. You move so you can be on your knees on the ground in between his legs. It’s been quite a bit, enough so that the program on the TV is completely different now, the AC has turned off—he’s still so hard, still hasn’t been taken care of.
You're about to lower his shorts, take him into your mouth, but Joost takes your hand and says, “Can we skip it? I wanna be inside of you, lieverd.” 
Almost a whisper, you reply, “Whatever you want,” nodding, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.
“You’re so quiet today. Is anything wrong?” He can read you like a book, the furrowing of your brow at his suggestion an easy giveaway. 
“Nothing’s the matter,” you lie, but he still looks disbelieving. “I just wanted to give you something back.”
“This is something back and more, baby. Lie down.” 
You do, too tired to argue for your side—the side that wants to give Joost everything you have and more, pay him back for the time you’ve been so absent, so distracted from your relationship and all the things Joost had been doing in the time away. It’s not as if you don’t want to lie down and have him fuck you—it’s just that you feel that you haven’t earned it yet. 
Your body language gives you away—“Still so tense, lieverd,” he says, squeezing your shoulder as you adjust, legs on either side of his thighs. “You sure you want to do this?” 
“Of course I do,” you purr, because of course you do, reaching into his briefs—Joost Klein branded, of course—and pulling his cock out, jerking it a few times and making him groan with the sensation. “You're so sensitive,” you quote him from earlier. “Has it been that long, schat?” 
The pet name makes his cock twitch; a month away, hard work on his album and music videos, content and marketing, coming back home to his favourite girl gazing at him starry-eyed with a hand around his dick and ready to take him inside. If you peered into his mind, this is what he’d be thinking. No thoughts match your worried thinking about how you may or may not have let him down—you didn’t. That would be impossible, at least to him. 
“Much too long.” 
You rest your head on a throw pillow that Joost has laid for you, and he lines himself up with your entrance. Fingertips on his stomach, you stop him for a few seconds from coming forward, and you wrap your hand around his shaft, swiping it through your slit a few times, collecting your wetness and his pre-cum on the head of his cock.
Loudly, he swears in Dutch, and the latter half sounds more like a strangled whisper than any real word. “You…fuck, my god…you are evil,” he laughs, even though he’s now rubbing the head of it against your clit, making you mewl. 
“You ready for me?” he asks, and you nod, licking your lips, trying to control your breathing. Your initial apprehension is long gone, though it could creep back every second—who cares? You’re finally together again. “You’re so wet,” Joost breathes as he eases the head of his cock into you. The stretch is something to get used to after so long away, but he gives time for you to adjust—seems like he might need it more than you do, how he sucks a breath in through gritted teeth, the snail’s pace he's going at. “I might cum right now.” 
“You promise?” you tease, watching the slow slide of his cock inside of you, watching just like he is. 
“I might have to promise with how this is going.” 
“You can do it,” you giggle and then moan because he's managed to fit half of his length into you. “I believe in you.” 
“Yay,” Joost smiles as he bottoms out in you, then gives you a kiss. “We did it!”
He holds his hand up for a high-five and you laugh—”I’m not high-fiving you while you're inside me.” 
“When has that ever stopped you before?”  
Rolling your eyes, you give him the high-five he so desperately wants and he beams at you with a toothy grin. “Never, I guess.” 
“Never,” Joost repeats, and then straightens up. You look up at him through your eyelashes—his mullet is mussed from the tangles of your fingers through his hair, his chest moving steadily up and down with the exertion of this all.  He moves your legs so your left ankle rests on his shoulder, the right wrapped around his hips. 
His hand creeps up your shirt, and you do the rest, exposing your tits to him. Joost is normally so clumsy, so heavy-handed—what a contrast that he can be so calm dragging his fingertips around your nipple, making it pebble in the cold.
He cups your cheek after you moan, then runs his tattooed knuckles down it, slips his thumb between your lips and hooks it on your teeth momentarily—you chase  it, but he continues down your chest and to your belly until his thumb is finally back on your clit and circling it slowly. 
The drag of his cock out of you is wonderful, so wonderful it makes you shudder when he does it, combined with his terribly slow treatment of your clit.
“My baby, did you miss me?” Joost says softly, kissing at your calf, your ankle as he sinks back into you. The sensation robs you of a response, a sigh tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop it, but he takes it as a response enough.  The smile on his face—the beauty mark under his lip, those deep dimples so prominent—you could never tire of it. “I missed you more, schatje.”
It feels so good, it feels like heaven being with him again. He comes back from such a busy time in his life, where you’ve done little, and all he has is praise and warmth and affection for you—fingers you within an inch of your life and doesn’t even ask for anything in return, just takes care of you in the way you need most. 
You know that he benefits from this just as much as you do—this isn’t so one-sided. But your brain is so frazzled from this last month, the nerve endings fried and in want of a fuck up to cling to like they have been whenever you’ve made a mistake at work, in class, in your relationship. 
Joost interrupts your thoughts: “I was so happy to see you on the steps, I could’ve sprinted to you if I wasn’t wearing those damn shoes.”
All of the times that you forgot to reply to Joost, getting a text saying your name and a sad face right after; the times where you were too distracted to give him your full attention and could only hum your acknowledgement to him, having to be reminded about what he said later; that one time just a few days ago you fell asleep on call with him in the middle of him excitedly speaking about a breakthrough with a bridge on the most important song of the album. 
The pleasure you felt earlier is now overshadowed by your racing thoughts. 
“I wrote a song about you, you know?” Joost says, his voice so gentle. I was only going to let you know when the album came out, but I can’t keep a secret.” Rocking against you, his pelvis rubs against your clit and it makes you cling to his shoulders. “The voice memo I sent you earlier—it was my first draft, just me. Did you like it?” 
“You…you wrote a song about me?” 
Only now do you remember the voice memo Joost sent you in the morning when you were still cleaning, the one that you saw and made a fleeting mental note to reply to later on, which you promptly forgot as you vacuumed, dusted, folded. 
Such misplaced priorities, and now you're paying the sad price.
“Joost,” you say, eyebrows screwing up, that all too familiar pulling feeling behind your nose and eyes—you realize quickly that all of the emotions bottled up inside of you from the past month have come out with vengeance at the new knowledge of Joost’s song about you. The knowledge wouldn’t have been new if you just paid more attention. 
You try to hold it back, pushing down the feelings again, but it just won’t work. All of it spilling over at the worst possible time, tears streaming down your face before you even know it. You fail to wipe the wetness from your cheeks—Joost stops his movements, asks in a panicked and concerned voice, “Oh my—are you crying, schat?”
Attempting to pull it together once more, you cover your face with your hands and shake your head silently, but your already sniffly nose sells you out. Your shoulders shake with your crying. Too far gone now. 
“I wanted—“ you sniffle, and he hands you a tissue from the side table for you to blow your nose into as he stumbles out and off of you. “I wanted to be with you tonight, but I just—so much—I never—I never listened to your memo, I couldn’t, I had to finish so much before you got here and I couldn’t and I feel so bad, like, you wrote a song about me and I didn’t even have the time to listen—” 
“Shh, shh, shh, shh,” Joost coos, brushing your hair out of your eyes as you sob. “Baby, please.” His expression is so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as he pats your back. “Wait, shit,” he says, getting up from the couch and looking down at his still bare bottom half. “Let me put everything back on, I’m sorry schatje, give me—“ In a hurry, he puts his underwear and shorts back on, tripping over himself and almost falling over. “I just can’t do this naked, I’m sorry.” 
That brings a laugh out of you and a laugh out of him, and you start explaining as he sits back down next to you, rubbing your arm. “I don’t—I don’t deserve you.” You shake your head, wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. “I should’ve listened to what you sent me, I should’ve been there more.” 
“Bro,” he deadpans, beckoning you to come and sit on his lap. 
You do, still trying to get the tears out of your eyes as you settle into his arms. “Shut up, don’t call me bro while I’m crying,” you laugh, voice weak but lighthearted.
“Bro. I will do it again.” Joost gives you a second to let it out more, to breathe as he smooths his hands back and forth on your back. “You did everything perfectly, lieverd. Perfectly. We were both so busy, and you still made time to call me and text me. I would have been lost without you, I know for certain.” 
You shake your head. “I forgot to reply and pick up your texts so many times, Joost, I felt like such a bad person for doing so.” 
“You did? I didn’t notice. All I cared about was that you replied.  You’re not a bad person at all,” Joost says, and the sweetness of his words just make you want to cry more. “I appreciate more from you the effort that you put into everything, into what we have. Not what you couldn’t or didn’t do.” 
“You’re so nice,” you whisper, sniffling. You can’t think of a better compliment with how overwhelmed you are, so you kiss him, instead, and he kisses back. Even with this, you can tell how gentle Joost is holding your cracked pieces back together. 
“I’m nice?” he asks, smiling. “Best compliment I’ve ever gotten.” For a little, you both sit there in the silence together. “How about this—tomorrow, we can have a day to ourselves. You can lounge and study by the pool, and I’ll be your little butler or whoever and we can just relax for a bit, hm? Order food, drink, smoke, whatever.” Pausing, he grins. “We can even listen to the whole album, if you want.”
“You finished it?” you ask, sitting up more and incredulous. That’s complete news to you.
“This morning, right before I flew back here,” Joost says, nodding proudly. “I also texted you, but duty calls, no?” 
“You texted me?” He texted you? And you missed it?!?!? Again, the new information makes you cry, and he holds you tight as you do. “You should be mad that I didn’t see it,” you say in between dry heaves into his shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.” 
“I could never be mad at you, lieverd, and I’m sorry I made you cry again,” he says, rubbing your back, petting your hair. “I just wanted to let you know when I did it—it was just a timestamp, that doesn’t mean you needed to know right that second.” 
“But I wanted to know.” 
“You know now, and I know how proud you are of me. That’s enough, that’s even more than what I wanted.” You trust him and his words so fully, every passing second with him is another way to help you feel better. “I love you,” Joost says your name so seriously, a punctuation to his love letter. “I mean it.” 
“I love you too.” You kiss him, deeply, moments passing that you use to thank everything you can that he’s so good with your worries, your anxieties. “I’ll take you up on that offer for tomorrow, Joost,” you say, finally calmed down enough. Your eyes are incredibly bleary—you didn’t know that was possible. But at least you aren’t actively crying anymore. “Thank you for everything.” 
“Thank you for giving me something more to look forward to, schat. Now—let’s go run a bath together and listen to my song for you.” 
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cloudcountry · 1 year
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SUMMARY: A handful of TWST characters that I headcanon have not had their first kiss yet and you kissing them for the first time.
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: riddle and idia and azul are obvious but i feel like i need to explain jade and floyd. they're clearly emotionally detached from most people and probably scared off anyone that might remotely be interest in (even though if they can be scared off, the twins would probably find them boring anyway) so they haven't kissed anyone yet in my silly little head. thats all!!
i was listening to cherry wine by hozier while writing floyd's part so if its softer than usual that's why OOPS
the asexual in me loves writing about hesitant physical intimacy leave me alone :C
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Riddle Rosehearts feels his hands shaking as you stare, eyes so calm and hopeful that makes his heart lurch. He doesn’t know how to give you what you want without curling in on himself and becoming flustered. It’s unbecoming of him to cower like this, but he can’t help it. your hand against his cheek, the other one resting on his shoulder, your faces so close together. He feels like he might die if he doesn’t kiss you, but he doesn’t know how and he doesn’t want to mess this up because he’s supposed to just know.
“You don’t have to know,” you whisper, and you sound so certain that his heart flutters like a caged bird, “Every person is different. Everyone has a different feel to their kiss, and I’m glad I get to help you discover yours.”
He can’t breathe.
“Will you allow me?” you murmur, tilting your head the slightest bit and oh, he knows what's coming and he doesn’t want to stop it.
“Please.” he breathes, slamming his eyes shut, “Kiss me.”
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Azul’s shaking hands find their way to your hips as if they were always meant to be there, pressed against your pants and brushing against the hem of your shirt. He sucks in a breath as your arms are draped around his neck, like a blanket of love coating him in warmth. His body does feel impossibly hot, and he wonders for a moment if you truly are magical.
His mouth feels dry so he wets his lips, and when your eyes flicker towards them at the movement he almost dies.
“Azul, it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” you murmur, softly and with so much understanding. It’s frustrating, how Azul wants every part of you and you’re willing to wait for him. You’re too good for him.
“I want to.” he whispers, pleading in a way that only someone as powerful as him can, “I want to kiss you, so please—”
Azul talks too much. You’re painfully aware of this fact and so is he. Maybe that’s why you shut him up and replaced his greedy pleas with the sound of soft kissing, but then again, Azul doesn’t need to know what other reasons you had for kissing him. The only reason he needs is your love.
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Jade does not understand why it’s such a shock to you that he has yet to be kissed. You have seen him in his merform, you have fought him in his merform, and yet your brain cannot wrap around the concept that people find him terrifying. Really, you are an amusing one.
“The merpeople my age were scared of me, pearl.” he chuckles politely as you gape at him from across the Mostro Lounge table he seated you at hours before, “I had yet to be in a romantic relationship until you.”
“But you’re so handsome.” you huff, and it looks like you’re pouting, “Your peers have no taste.”
“Ah, or mayhaps your taste is an acquired one, my dear.” he smiles his closed-eyed smile, and revels in the amused snort his response elicits.
“We should kiss then.” you blurt, and Jade’s eyes fly open in surprise. You’re leaning across the table with shimmering eyes and a huge smile like you can’t wait to kiss him.
How peculiar.
“Do you want to be kissed?” he says, feigning surprise.
“By you? More than anything.” you say breathlessly, and Jade finds himself leaning into you to really take your breath away.
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Floyd stares intently at your lips, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. He looks like a predator about to pounce on its prey, and despite how cliche that comparison is for someone like him you can’t help but squirm.
“Floyd.” you say softly, and he snaps out of it when he meets your gaze, “What’s wrong?”
“Shrimpy. Wanna try something new.” he leans closer, his shadow falling over you as if to remind you how scary he can really be, “I want to kiss you.”
Oh.
“Well, that’s doable.” you feel your face grow warm at his insistence as your hands find their way to his lapels.
Floyd’s features soften as he leans into you, his bristling energy soothed by your hands on him, pulling him closer to give him what he wants. Your mouths connect and for a moment you find yourself wincing as his teeth bump against yours, but he pulls back just the slightest bit and presses into your mouth with his mouth, and you lean back and back and back until the only support you have is his arm holding you close.
“Love you Shrimpy.” he grins as he stops kissing you, giggling against your lips. His breath is warm and you feel like a sweet ice cream cone in summer with the way you melt against him.
“Again.” you huff quietly, and Floyd is all too happy to oblige.
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Idia was not expecting to be thrown into a super hard boss level right off the bat. Seriously, what is this? Why did you always have to play with such gimmick stats that made no sense and never follow any specific trope?! It wasn’t good for his heart!
It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to kiss him, it was just so hard not to think about everything that could go wrong. Like what if he bit you by accident? What if he yawned or sneezed in your mouth? What was the last thing he ate? Where did he put his hands and how is he supposed to move his lips?!
“Idia, it’s okay. We can wait a little while longer. This isn’t something you can rush.” you rub your thumb over his cheek, always so gentle and tender and sweet and everything he never thought he would find.
“No, I want to. I just...don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, ducking his head in his hoodie as the tips of his hair flare pink and red.
“Sorry!” you turn away and let him breathe, trying so desperately to calm down.
“Just...can it be a quick one?” he asks shyly, tentatively, and he hears you hum in satisfaction because he’s communicating and he knows you like it when he tells you what he wants.
“It can be anything you want.” you answer softly, and Idia slams his eyes shut and leans into you.
How you manage to make such normie things seem so nice is a mystery to him, but he doesn’t think he can ever get enough of your lips gliding across his like they were never meant to do anything but kiss him.
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sukioyakio · 3 months
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“Use me then”- R. 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
PART TWO IS OUT
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Sukuna hadn’t been the best person in your life,he was a dumb fuck and he knew that.He knew he shouldn’t have left you alone when you needed him the most.
When you were pregnant with his baby girl.He knew he fucked up.Moreover his whole life has been fucked up,finding his parents died in a young age and how he knew that violence was the thing that bring him a long way.
Foster home wasn’t just hell but a free for all,only those who are willing to make a name out of themselves will get to see a future themselves.He would have to learn that having feeling is just a useless thing.
After being heartbroken by someone he thought he could love,after being someone punching bag for entertainment and being beaten almost to death.Scars all over him with each of them being a reminder of how bad it was for him.
He didn’t get to live a normal life when he was younger constantly fighting for himself.He became more cruel and more cold,no longer giving a fuck about anyone else.
He knew that nothing he could make up for his own mistakes for treating like you did anything to deserve it.
You both knew each other from college but that not when you guys started dating,you started to date after a one and a half year later.
You fell for him despite of his frigid behavior.You wanted to prove that you would be the best girlfriend.You were just a hopeless romantic and you didn’t care about his cold behavior.
And he just accepted it to only used you for his benefits.
But no matter what you did he’ll just blocked you out and constantly being used.And when you guys did it,he forgot to put the condom on and so a week later you had called him when he was flirting with some other girl at a bar.
he just told you that he’ll come later.
While he was cheating with you with someone else,you were excited about it,to tell him about the future you had thought about.And how you couldn’t wait to be a mother.
But when you had open the front doors to your apartment,something in your gut told you that you weren’t going to like this talk but you were love sick idiot for him and completely ignored that feeling.
When you were talking about how your day went,being animated and all.He nonchalantly told you just to get to the point.
You had such a big smile on when you announced it. “I’m pregnant! Sukuna I’m having your baby,we’ll be parents”
You looked at him with warm smile to only see his eyebrows furrowed down in an utter disbelief.You said it again guessing that he didn’t hear you correctly but his face made a unreadable expression as he started to walk towards the door.
All in that moment you could almost hear the tearing sound of your heart being broken into pieces and it hurt.
“Sukuna?”
“Sukuna?”
“Sukuna!?”
“SUKUNA?!?”
You yelled at him while running after him grabbing his wrists pleading with him,cause you didnt know if you’ll be okay with just yourself supporting a baby.Your lips were trembling and your every breath was like it was venom had token your lungs.
Tears were flowing down your cheeks.And he just stood there with complete silence.You began to beg for him to talk,for you guys to talk about it together.
“Please don’t l-leave me , p-please” you choke on your tears.Red optics eye bore into her widened,watering eyes.Finally saying something to you.
“I think it just better to break up” He says that and nothing more and then snatched off his hand now walking away leaving you alone with hot painful tears flowing down your cheeks.
The only thing you heard was the sounds of his Shoes slowly getting quieter until it was just silence.Your heart right there summer in the depths of your chest broken by your vision of love.
It was a vast expanse of emptiness,where even the smallest sound wouldn’t dare not tread the silence. [*]
A few years later Sukuna was now more stable than before,Having a big success with his company.
Making collaboration with other big brands and marketers.Having multiple modeling teams to make sure of his presence is well known and that only made a fan base of him.He was making multiple big deals that people would only dream off.
He was particularly smart at making sure that his company wouldn’t go down anything time soon.Even after all this success in Japan he would still have much more work to accomplish in others countries but he doesn’t have to worry about that right now.
He now had everything that he never had when he was young and everything he’ll need.Every decision he made was to make it all work in the end.
Right?
But some wounds weren’t meant to heal and some will eventually hurt you more than others.
When he left you he thought that he would be the best for him and for you too.He didn’t want any of unavoidable feeling of love,it wouldn’t do anything but drag him. He already knew at some point he was going to break up with you sometime soon.
But your voice of pain still rings throughout his head after all these years.Sometimes even coming back as nightmares or some sorts.
He thought that maybe if he just have nights stands he would get over it.It irritated him for some reason.He didn’t need some extra feelings of you.
But nothing worked,and now he’s sit in his office at random point of time thinking about what was the gender of his baby.
But now he knows that he is the worst father ever to have.And he didn’t have to hear those words from anyone else to tell him that.The better thing to do is just to move forward and forget about it.
It was just a normal day walking around the city without the need of being followed or being bothered by the paparazzi or whatever the case would be.
The sun light shining the city with a bright golden glow making the city warm.And with the sun shining it’s companion with the wind breeze keeping citizens of Tokyo from dying from the heat.In perfect sense it was a great day to go out and enjoy the day off.
Multiple citizens walked through the streets of Tokyo the streets were filled with lifeness sparkling with color all around and people walking with a smile or with a sense of urgent need to get to a certain place.While Sukuna didn’t have any place to go to so he just walked throughout the city even the high crime rates part of Tokyo.
The only reason he wasn’t getting bothered was because he had a black washable dye and it work wonders and having his tattoos covered by makeup. No one recognize him.
Now he made his way towards a park,to get away from the crowd of people.His body walking down the entrance of it.Completely in his head space enjoying the scenery.Not minding the children running around with their sequels.
Until he heard a voice in the group of parents with their children who were playing or watching their children play.
A distant Laughter came through the group there;A laugh he knew too well.His legs taking him towards that voice without even noticing his actions. His large figure making it way to move around,his eyes looking around in such an intense manner.
His body froze,his mind going silent.As his almost blood like eyes widened.His heart slowly beating against his chest.
He spotted a child with striking pink long hair with such a radiant laughter,a young girl that is made his heart began to filled with warmth.
Something that he thought was meaningless.
Sukuna’s heart raced with uncertainty as he faced the unknowingly future.
He just stood there watching the girl with an urge to ask the girl question.Whether if the girl dyed the hair pink or did she ever get to see her dad or-And then you showed In his view.
“There you are,you little troll” you spoke with a playful voice,grabbing your daughter and swinging her around in the air.You were smiling so care carefullyfree,with the little spawn of joy giggling wildly.
“PffhaHahhaha!!Stop it mom!Your gonna get me dizzy if uou continue” The young girl says as her laughter danced through the air like a soft melody.
The world blurs itself out as he watches you.when he sees you he immediately knows that you were something that shouldn’t have been token so dryly;all the nights were you were there for him,all the love you spent on him and what did he gave you in return.
Nothing,nothing not even a small amount of time of love to you.You have every right to hate him for that.
There a lot of ‘what if’s’ in his mind but one thing is certain that he would’ve had a family.
He probably didnt know that he was looking at you guys to long.That was until your eyes meet his making eye contact.
Their stares remained interlocked, neither of them making a move to look away.It you could tell who is his even with all the disguise.Your eyes widened with disbelief as Your face turned into an icy expression.You turned your head now forcing yourself to walk forward paying attention to your daughter that was in your arms.
Sukuna soul felt burdened with the echoes of her sorrows.
“It doesn’t matter now,at least that their better without me” Sukuna spoke in his mind,but he’s heart felt heavy like it knew that if he thinks by walking away from all this is going to make it better then he wrong.
Blinded by his own heart he walks after you,keeping his composure straight and stern.As he reaches his hand to lay his hand on your shoulder,getting your attention and your daughter as well.
Your head turned around to see his body but you stare up to see his ironic red eyes the same one you have nightmares about,the same one that broke your heart a thousand times.
The same blood like eyes that you fall in love with.
Your heart sting with dreadful pain just from looking at him,you knew it was him even if he’s hide his most dominant features.
Your daughter looks at you with concern that you don’t mistake it for sadness.
You place her down on the ground and whipser her something softly,to not her pretty face worry about it.You told her simply to wait and sit in the grass until she come back then they will get ice cream after and which she does.
Now paying mind to him as you changed your expression to the same icy expression.
“What do you want” You said straight to the point as you won’t allow yourself to break down again infront of him.
Nothing come out,because he didn’t know what to say to you,Nothing came out of his mouth.He usually always had something to say.
You couldn’t take it,you hated the man that stand in front of you.
”I doubt you’ll forgive me for all of this-
you instantly interrupted him.
“it too late for apologize Sukuna,you already showed me that I’ll have to be guarded when it comes to giving people my heart.”
You said heartlessly,almost with coming out hurt.But you didn't stop there,all the suspense emotions were coming out.
“God I hate you! I hate you for leaving me!!A simple Fucking sorry ISNT going to make up for the things you made me go through! You-tears falling down your cheeks rapidly-… I fucking hate you.I hate that I fell for you,g-Gave you my heart for what?”
You wipe off your tears.Your voice rising in pitch as your eyes brow knitting together in frustration and hands clenching tightly in a ball into fist.
“B-but I’ll n-never . . Hate you for her,for g-giving me a beautiful g-girl”
you said with a sad smile that quickly removed from your face,Your chest rising up and down.As you could hear the voices of the kids giggling in the background.
The tension between you and him was unpalatable,the air was so thick that it felt like he was going to suffocate.
A pair of warm hands warp around you pulling you into a warm embrace.
“I-I -a heavy sigh came out of his mouth- . . . Sorry,I don’t -no I know that you won’t forgive me.You have every reason to yell at me, . . tell me that I’m shit for everything.” His voice swiftly He felt your hands were pushing him away but he continued on his embrace.He could fell your tears dampen his clothes.
“L-let go of me . . . I Don’t h-have time for you-u,i don’t need you anymore in my life,Sukuna.So it better if we just don’t talk.”
His throat felt so dry like as if he didn’t drink any water.He fucked up so badly.A wound that would never heal.You politely removed your body from his embrace and wipe your face with your hands wiping off the tears.Now walking away from him and towards where your daughter was.
The wind blows gently through your body as you see your daughter playing around with a boy with black hair;smiling with joy, making you form a small smile.
You felt a hand on your shoulder immediately knowing it was Sukuna,you brushed off his hand off your shoulder.Before you could even get anything out your mouth.
“Use me then”
A shiver ran down her spine as his voice took on an eerie, otherworldly quality of vulnerability.That made her question if it was the wind that was playing with her mind or it just herself thinking that she heard him in such a state.
”what” You said with disbelief lancing your voice,Your uncertainty was reflected in your hesitant movements and furrowed brow.
You tilted your head in confusion,your eyes trying to discern the almost-too-serious expression on Sukuna face.Just for Sukuna repeat his words.
“Use me then” He said in a serious manner,His red eyes looking straight at you.He knew what he was saying was stupid and wouldn’t cure anything but it worth trying.
Your eyes widens lanced with disbelief.you let out a huff out laugh as you ran your finger though your hair.
“What . . No Sukuna,I-a deep shaky sigh gets out of your lungs- I told you I want nothing to deal with you” You said with a bit of raspiness to your voice from the crying and yelling.You eyes finally looking at Sukuna’s eyes.His eyes usually showed a stern cold expression but right now it soften and regretful glazes upon his blood like eyes.
“Use me then, Use me for money,for paying your bills,driving you and her placing,Use me for anything,it doesn’t matter” He said as you just notice how close he got to you.You could hear it now,it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you;you could hear that vulnerability in his voice so much clearer.
You didn’t know what to say or respond to him,your mouth was shut and like it sealed up.That until you felt a strong hit towards your knee,to only see your daughter squealing.
“MOMM!! Hahah-HELp me!!Before Cole Comes and get me!!” Your daughter says with A loud giggle as She let go of your legs and runs a distance away from you and Sukuna to get playfully tackled by a boy with black hair and purple eyes.
You hadn’t completely forgotten his offer,You take a deep breath before looking at your phone to see how much time as pass.
His eyes were dead set on you but You can see that he’s eyes had a bit of amusement in them.To you you could recognize him even if he had black hair or hide his tattoos on his face and body,you could still tell it him from his red ironic eyes.His body cast a shadow over you.
“I-ill think about this later” You said,now completely walking towards your daughter.With head now full of thoughts now.As you smiling see your daughter ‘Nova ryomen’ Tackling the boy down with a playful smirk on her soft cheek.
You told her that it time to go home and to say goodbye to the boy,which she kinda refused to do having a big sad pout of your cute little face.But she eventually did,as you hold her hand in and then taking her to a ice cream shop for her.You order with a genuine smile on your lips as you watched her eat her ice cream while you guys were walking towards the house.
“use me then”
his words were repeated in your head like a curse.You don’t need him anyway right?You just gotta keep moving forward even if life isn’t the best for you but it could be and will be better for nova.That night you had received a text from a unknown person but you ignore it went to sleep.
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Credits to my lovely editor(my bestie) who I made her read this 🫶.
tag list: @10yo-anonnie @scoobysnakz @lynxslokley @kenntolog
+anyone want to be tagged in part2
@mononijikayu
Made by @sukioyakio
reblogs, likes and shares are always welcome and appreciated
If anyone has any comments of suggestion of part two then be my guest
PART TWO IS OUT NOW!!
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dragonsholygrail · 3 months
Note
A monster boyfriend would be fantastic.... Can you imagine him coming to your defense when you have a toxic parent? I'm on the obese side but very short. Last night......a parent called me lazy and fat....despite my efforts t olose weight for health reasons. Now, I feel too scared to eat.
I cried so hard, and wish I had some intimidating boyfriend that would've made my mom shut up and come to my defense. Also, I feel like monsters would not care so much about human standards of beauty. (Even at my healthiest weight, I wasn't like stick thin)
Oh, hunny, I feel you. I’m in the same boat. I’m so sorry you went through that. You are absolutely beautiful the way you are. Do what you need for your health but know that being skinny doesn’t equal being healthy. Please eat, love, because making sure you’re eating all your meals is a part of health. I know that a monster would love you no matter what and would embrace you entirely.
I’ve been through a similar experience and I know I would’ve loved to read something to comfort me so I hope this can comfort you <3
Perfection to Me
Monster bf x chubby fem!reader - tw fatphobia, toxic parent[ing], hurt/comfort, protective bf, body worshipping, multiple orgasms, creampie
You had been so excited. You had recently gotten your very first boyfriend and you were so excited to introduce him to your family and friends.
Of course, all of your friends had been a bit surprised when they first met and they were faced with a huge and intimidating monster. But in reality, your monster bf was the sweetest man you had ever met. He was protective and he cared for you more than you ever could’ve imagined.
And he proved it to you time and time again how seriously he took your courtship. How deeply he considered you already to be his mate. Not shying away from using the term regularly.
All of this just drove your excitement to the point where you couldn’t wait to introduce him to your mother. To show her you’d finally found someone.
That excitement slowly dwindled. More and more as the night went on. It had all been going so well. Your mother greeted your monster bf with delight. Clearly happy, if not surprised, by his presence. It was easily overlooked.
But then the comments started. Snide in-passing comments. Comments about your relationship, your weight, and worst of all your eats habits.
You focus on staring down at the table, trying to keep your tears at bay. Having been so used to swallowing down these comments without a retort. Luckily your monster bf isn’t.
A loud slamming of fists rattles the dinner table, causing you to look at your bf with a sharp gasp. From the corner of your eye you can see your mother do the same.
“Who do you think you are?” Your bf snaps, his hands clenched. Only barely holding back his simmering rage.
Word after word he had been tortured by your mother’s lashing tongue. He had no idea how you must be feeling. But after seeing the tears in your eyes he could no longer sit back and take it.
“Excuse me?” Your mother asks, eyes wide and partially frightened by the aura which radiated from your monster bf.
“Was I not clear?! Who do you think you are to be speaking to my mate like that?” He questions, standing up. Only making his form that much more intimidating to witness. Not willing to listen to any bullshit from your mother.
“Well, I.. I am her mother!” Your mother replies weakly, visibly shrinking back in her chair.
“I have known mothers that eat their young who are kinder than you,” your bf lashes out, claws sinking into his own skin. You wince seeing it, your worry for him growing. Not wanting him to hurt himself because of her.
“How dare you!” Your mother shrieks, hand clutching her chest.
“Baby, plea-“
“No!” Your bf snarls, head whipping to face you, and stopping the excuse from leaving your lips. His arm joining it to stop you from reaching for him.
But as his eyes meet yours, they immediately soften. He leans down, licking and nuzzling into your cheek in a silent apology.
“I will not stand idly by and watch as an insignificant disrespects you,” his voice rumbles into your skin as he moves down to your neck, scenting you. Marking you as his to care for now.
“Insignificant!”
Monster bf tenses hearing your mother’s voice again. Returning to his full height he glowers down at her.
“It is a mother’s job to nurture and protect,” he states simply, making his opinion of her treatment of you quite clear.
“I am protecting her! Protecting her from herself and from everyone out there,” your mother finally snaps. Standing up from the table even in the face of your bf.
Your bf bristles, needing to pause for a moment. Ensuring he doesn’t lose control of himself. After a silent beat he slowly walks around the table and towers over her.
“In this moment you are a far greater enemy to her than anything she will face out in the world…”
You watch as his words sink in. Your mother’s face growing pale and her mouth finally staying closed.
When he’s sure she won’t try and reply, your monster bf moves around her, heading back to you. He holds out his hand which you take without hesitation. Your heart nearly beating out of your chest.
It’s only when your bf immediately reaches with his free hand to wipe softly at your cheeks do you realize you had been crying.
“Come, sweet mate. I think it’s time we leave,” he says lowly as he gathers you up in his arms. You don’t even think about resisting, just letting your bf swiftly lead you out of the home.
You could tell your monster bf was angry. He was furious. And it showed in the way he ravishes you the moment you two get home.
As soon as the door closes behind you he’s plucking you up from the floor with ease and throwing your body gently down on the bed. Endless praises leave his lips, clearly setting out to replace every mean word your mother had uttered throughout the night.
He peels your clothes off slowly, despite the fact he was practically shaking with his restraint. Revealing your beautiful big body inch by inch. As soon as you are bare he pounces on you, showing how much he treasures every curve of your body.
His face nuzzles into your thick neck as he grinds his cock against your pussy lips, all while telling you how hard you make him. Not stopping until you come apart, dousing his length with your essence.
He makes sure to take care of every inch of you. Moving down to latch onto your nipples. Sucking and massaging at your supple flesh until you gush all over the sheets from the toe-curling stimulation. Your body spent but your monster bf not having finished with you, evident by the feral glint in his eye.
Taking his time, setting his own aching need aside, to slowly kiss down the curve of your stomach. His claws digging into your sides and loving how you fill up his hands.
Though his hands suddenly have a far better use as they spread your meaty thighs for him. He dives right in, stuffing his face into your fat pussy and completely smothering himself in your folds. His tongue devouring you like you’re the only thing he’ll ever want to eat again.
Fingers joining soon after, needing to fill you up even deeper as his tongue laps up your essence. His hand and mouth work in total sync till your body is shaking with the need to cum. His mouth sucks greedily at your clit while his fingers curl along your walls. As soon as he finds that sweet spot within you, you’re erupting all over his tongue. White dots briefly clouding your vision from the intensity.
Monster bf barely gives you a moment to breathe as he rises onto his knees, that look in his eyes only growing darker with each orgasm that overtakes you. His eyes rake over your limp form.
“You are perfection,” he breathes out before finally sinking into your tight cunt. You both moan as your bodies connect, your back arching as you show off that body that’s so beautiful to him.
He can’t hold back any longer as he furiously fucks his cock into you, bodies slapping together in perfect harmony. Growls and deep rumbling noises escaping him as your body brings him a pleasure he’s never otherwise experienced.
Together you two bring each other to orgasm after orgasm, never getting enough of each other. It’s not until neither of you can physically not move that you take a break.
“You hungry, love?” He asks as you two lay back on the bed, limbs completely wrapped around each other.
“Hmm, no. Not really,” you reply quietly, your appetite not quite having returned after dinner was interrupted. Monster bf senses this, his lip quivering as he visibly holds back a growl.
“Well, what if we change the venue, huh? You can eat off of me,” he suggests, a lighthearted smugness moving across his features. His free arm moving to rest behind his head while the other keeps a firm grip on you.
“Oh, well that changes things then,” you say through your laughter. Your bfs smugness grows as he shifts down and spreads out across the bed. Showing off his body to you. A body that’s goal is to give you more pleasure than you could dream of.
“Yeah, it does. You can eat a fucking feast off of me…” your bf says with a grin, all in order to bring more of that sweet laughter out of you. To have it tickle his senses. He’d do anything to make you laugh. He leans down and nibbles at your neck, causing you to giggle lightly. That’s it. “And that’s exactly what I plan to have you do.”
Monster bf doesn’t given you any time to respond before he’s back to kissing the daylights out of you.
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moondirti · 5 months
Note
Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!
My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.
Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?
What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?
Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.
Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?
Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!
shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev
cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.
Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.
Or even understand, really.
Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...
You don't mind it.
But you still don't like him.
It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.
That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.
Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.
You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–
The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.
But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.
Things only get worse from there.
"An' where d'you think you're going?"
You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.
If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.
"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.
But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.
And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.
"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."
He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.
"Where are you going with this?"
Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.
"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"
"N-No–"
"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"
"Yes. Yes but–"
"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."
Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.
Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.
That cruel fuck.
"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."
Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.
As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.
"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."
"Si–"
He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.
"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."
You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.
"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."
You make it one block before hightailing back home.
Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.
You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.
But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.
You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.
Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.
Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.
Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.
"Miss me 'lready?"
A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.
The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.
Good dick be damned.
But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.
Account does not exist.
Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.
So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.
It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–
Account does not exist.
Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.
Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.
And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.
It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.
"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."
"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.
"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"
You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.
The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.
And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.
You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.
Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.
Just as Simon barges into your room.
You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.
But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.
"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.
Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.
(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)
That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.
You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.
"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."
"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.
He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.
If anything, he's the stray.
"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."
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suashii · 10 months
Text
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒮𝐸𝒳𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒮𝐸𝒯𝒯𝐸𝑅𝒮 — the setters and their top kinks
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info ⭑ includes: miya atsumu, oikawa toru, akaashi keiji, sugawara koushi, semi eita ノ f!reader, nsfw (minors do not interact) ノ degradation ノ impact play ノ daddy kink ノ dumbification ノ edging ノ body worship ノ praise kink ノ dacryphilia ノ virgin kink ノ corruption kink ノ all characters written 18+.  
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₊˚ପ⊹ ATSUMU + DEGRADATION & IMPACT PLAY
he’d never call you such lewd, dirty names outside the bedroom, but he can’t ignore how each one goes straight to your pussy. his personal favorites are “whore” and “toy”. he never thought he’d find so much pleasure in bullying, humiliating, you. and he’ll never get over the way you tighten and flutter around his cock when his hand makes contact with your clit or ass. your surprised squeals are like music to his ears and the marks he leaves behind are always a pretty reminder of the night’s activities the next day.
“listen to you, whimpering like a whore when i slap your ass. i’m starting to think you like getting spanked. mm, maybe i should give you another one.”
₊˚ପ⊹ OIKAWA + DADDY KINK & DUMBIFICATION
he gets some sort of rush from hearing you call him daddy. maybe it’s the way you peer up at him through your lashes as you do so. or maybe it’s the blatant embarrassment that you try and fail to hide by biting your lip. can you blame him for wanting to see you completely fucked out? you’re just so pretty when your eyes are staring off at nothing, tongue lolling from between those soft lips. he can’t help the sense of pride that swells in his chest when you’re reduced to such a mess, and all because of him.
“you stopped talking, princess. did daddy really fuck you that hard? can’t even think straight while you’re taking this cock, huh?”
₊˚ପ⊹ AKAASHI + EDGING & BODY WORSHIP
his hands wander about your figure as his mouth travels down every inch of your skin, only ever stopping to tell you how gorgeous you are. you deserve the world and he’s set on giving it to you, even if his method seems slightly cruel. by now, he’s an expert at continuously getting you nearly to your climax and pulling you back just before you can reach it. he’s a patient man and is more than willing to spend all night in the bedroom if that means giving you the most earth shattering orgasm you could imagine.
“god, you look so beautiful like this. you want to come? don’t worry, you only have to wait a little longer, angel. i promise it’ll feel good.”
₊˚ପ⊹ SUGAWARA + PRAISE & DACRYPHILIA
you’re such a sweet thing for suga, always doing what you’re told and making the prettiest noises for him. why shouldn’t he let you know how much he adores you—how proud he is of you? the smile that graces your face and the sparkles in your irises at his approval are really all he could ask for. but a little part of him can’t help but get excited whenever he sees tears of pleasure pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over your lash line. maybe he’s greedy; or maybe he just wants a reward of his own.
“you did so well for me, my good girl. and you look so pretty with tears streaming down your cheeks. should i clean them up for you?”
₊˚ପ⊹ SEMI + VIRGIN KINK & CORRUPTION
he has this unexplainable desire to take you—someone that was once pure and untouched—and make you his own, to ruin you as he pleases. of course, he’d never tell you so; where’s the fun in that? he’s fixed on watching the authentic experience of your first time. he wants to see how your face scrunches up in pain before it turns to pleasure. he wants to hear your breath catch in your throat before you’re moaning in ecstasy as your orgasm hits. he needs to be the one who gives you a taste of what you’ve been missing out on.
“is it everything you thought it would be? yeah? i never pegged you as the type who liked being used. guess i got lucky with you.”
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hihi~ manz here :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
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msfantasy-comics · 11 months
Text
The Perfect Match
Jason Todd x Reader
Summary: A head cannon on how Y/n is the perfect match for Jason.
Warning: this contains references to heavy topics, so if you are easily trigged, then please read at your discretion.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Jason is one of the most complex people.
His life experience has set him up for some incredible challenges.
By the grace of god for everything that is good, you walked in and made him whole.
You were, Jason’s perfect match.
Understanding and Reliant
Jason has had an incredibly traumatic past, the death of his father and loving step-mother, becoming homeless, feeling rejected by his adoptive family, having his birth mother sacrifice him, being killed by the Joker… seriously… what HASN’T this poor man been through?
With that, Jason needs a partner who can at least, understand that he has a lot of pain to bare, and that Jason had his own unique way in processing that trauma.
Dick: “He tried to force Bruce into killing the Joker.”
Y/n: “Was it wrong of him to get someone else to do his dirty work? Yes, absolutely, however, the Joker did kill him and his mother… need I say more?”
Damian: “He kills criminals- not turning them into Arkham as we are required to.”
Y/n: “Firstly… hypocrisy. Secondly, Arkham is fundamentally broken and objectively not effective as we have established numerous times. Jason has found a permanent solution to criminals who hurt without cause or resolution.”
Tim: “You’re literally excusing his actions.”
Y/n: “I’m not saying I agree with everything Jason has done, but I can understand why Jason has done what he did and why he thinks that way. Agreeing and understanding are completely different words.”
Jason sitting smuggly with his arms crossed.
Jason: “Yeah! Tell them off babe.”
Jason at times feels like you’re the only person who understands him.
But even more so, Jason loves that you defend him in front of others with unwavering support.
But in private you reason with him gently.
Y/n: “Baby, I see why you feel Bruce should’ve avenged your death, but it’s just not part of his philosophies, punishing him for someone else’s crime wasn’t fair… you really should apologise for torturing him, I truely believe Bruce was doing what he thought was best.”
Jason: “… I’ll think about it.”
Loyalty
Jason has severe abandonment issues.
His father and step-mother dying in quick succession, with no extended family willing to take him in.
Meeting his bio-mother, who bargained her own life in exchange for Jason’s. Which Jason graciously accepted despite how undeserving it was.
Bruce ‘replacing’ him quickly after with Tim.
Bruce not avenging his death with the Joker.
Jason was constantly making sacrifices for others and as far as he was concerned
No one returned the favour.
So Jason really values loyalty to the highest degree.
As he believes it’s a rare trait.
Your unwavering love and support is everything Jason could’ve asked for and more.
However…
Jason: “Would you leave me if I ever cheat on you.”
Y/n: “Yes, absolutely.”
Jason: 😲
Y/n: 😐
Communication Skills
Jason, is generally, horrible at communicating his feelings and needs.
His feelings are expressed through action. Not words.
This can often be frustrating but this just means you have to come up with creative ways in which Jason can express himself.
Jason: “Fuck, fuck, fuck everything is fucked!”
Y/n: “Common grumpy pants, let’s go for a drive.”
You’ll often drive Jason to scenic places and you’ll both wonder around in silence before you take him home snuggle up and just watch a movie.
You do all the right things without being asked.
You know what he’s trying to say without him saying a word.
You know that the last thing Jason needs, is to explain himself.
All he needs is reassurance.
Which you do perfectly.
Supportive in his Endeavours
Jason has a … unique take on justice.
He is the lawyer, judge and executioner.
If he finds a criminal guilty of a heinous crime and said criminal is not sorry.
Then that criminal is typically never heard from again.
Whilst you may or may not agree, you both have a burning passion for the betterment of your community.
Don’t forget you both call Gotham your home.
Jason just loves how passionate you are at making the city better for everyone.
His focus is on cleaning up the crime whilst yours is to build a better foundation to better your community and home.
Jason loves that you hold the same values as his own.
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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months
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arrogant s.o.b
summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?
warnings: angst
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!
my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading
“I miss you, Harry.”
You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.
“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”
“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”
“Why?! For what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.
“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.
“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.
He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?
Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.
He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.
His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.
Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.
He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.
You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.
“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.
“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.
And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.
As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.
“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.
“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.
He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”
“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.
“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”
“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.
“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.
All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.
“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.
“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.
You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.
“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.
“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.
You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”
Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”
“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.
“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.
You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.
“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.
“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.
“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.
“Hm?”
“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever
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jgracie · 5 months
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ SPEED DRIVE!
↳ part two!
ferrari driver!percy jackson x fem!reader
masterlist | rules
warnings one swear word!
on the radio . . . speed drive (charlie xcx)
percy knew it was a bad idea leaving his house without at least a pair of sunglasses to conceal his identity. he was craving cookie dough ice cream, the grocery store wasn’t too far away and it was the middle of the night - who would possibly recognise him at a time like this?
the answer is many people. while percy did love his loyal fans, both tifosi and others, even he had to admit they were a little crazy. all it took was for one to snap a photo and post it on twitter and the rest seemed to immediately spawn all around him
“percy, is it true that luke might lose his seat next year?” he heard one voice say as he attempted to weave through the thick crowd of people. why couldn’t he have one second of peace? unfortunately, percy had made another awful decision that night - walking to the grocery store
this left ferrari’s golden boy with two options: either tough out the wall home with fans and paparazzi alike swarming him, or find someone who was willing to drive him home. with cars on the street in front of him were stationery thanks to the red light, percy made his decision
he bolted for the first one that caught his eye, a car that was small, (ironically) bright red and most importantly had an open roof. percy also had to admit the driver was kind of pretty, at least from what he could see from that far away
the light turned yellow and you prepared yourself to continue driving. you’d only recently gotten your drivers license and this was your first time driving without someone more experienced with you in the car, so you were just praying to end up at your apartment in one piece
just as the light became green and you began to drive, some random guy jumped into the passenger seat of your car, causing your heart rate to increase dramatically and your foot to immediately press on the brakes - out of shock or fear (or both), you weren’t sure
“drive!” he nearly yelled at you. you just stared at him, your mouth agape. it was way too late at night for this. at your state, percy huffed and leaned over to the wheel, beginning to steer for you
this snapped you out of the daze you were in and you slapped his hands away, your brows furrowing in anger as you drove, “who the fuck are you and what do you think you’re doing in my car? i’m pulling over right now, you need to get out.”
“no, please, i promise i didn’t mean any harm! can you just drop me off at my house?” he asked. you didn’t need to look at him to know he was incredibly desperate. who was this guy? as you recalled his face from when he first got into your car, you realised he did look a little familiar, but you still couldn’t figure out his identity
at your silence, percy continued, “i’ll do anything, do you like car racing? i can get you tickets for that!”
okay, so he was rich rich. you didn’t know the first thing about racing, but one of your friends was obsessed with formula one. specifically, a driver called peter jameson (or something along those lines). still, you rolled your eyes at his offer, disliking the way he attempted to bribe you
“no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything. where do you live?”
after percy told you his address, the car ride was silent. neither of you knew what to say to the other. you were still shaken by his sudden appearance, and percy was trying to conceal the blush that coated his cheeks. he was right, you were beautiful. the moon made your skin glow and your eyes brighter. from the death grip you had on the wheel, percy could tell you were new at driving. cute
“thanks a lot, you have absolutely no idea how much you helped me tonight,” percy said as he got out of your car. part of you was a little sad to see him go. sure, he freaked you out, but something about him was magnetic - maybe it was those sea green eyes that put all of poseidon’s oceans to shame, or the light dusting of freckles you hadn’t noticed until now
giving him a small smile, you said, “you’re welcome. have a good night.” you stayed for a little and watched as he entered his home, a bittersweet feeling tugging at your heart
once you’d gotten home, you noticed he’d left something on the passenger seat. a strip of paper with a line of messily scrawled numbers lay on the leather
call me. (917) 173-1839 — PJ
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sinsirellaxx · 6 months
Note
The anon who asked for the putting them in their place have amazing taste and your writing is so good too! ❤️ Please write a part 2 of the groveling part whenever you're free and have the inspiration! Of course, it's still up to you and if you're not feeling it, it's completely okay! 🎀
Also, remember to drink water and always stay hydrated! Your writing is amazing! <3
Slytherin Boys – You put them in your place and now they want you back
Warning: Toxic Boys alert!
A/N: Thank you so much, that is very sweet of you! Hope you're taking care of yourself as well! ❤️ Sorry this took me so long – life is a bit busy right now and sometimes my brain just isn't braining. 🙃
This is as much "groveling" I could do, because honestly – I don't see them toxic boys being truthful when apologizing for being too controlling or possessive. It is up to you: Would you forgive them?
Also: Not proofread!
Comments are greatly appreciated!
Mattheo …
… didn’t let you walk far. He willed the anger away as best as he could before rushing after you. He couldn’t believe it himself, but you had him wrapped around your finger and he hated it. But the thought of you leaving him and being with someone else seemed unbearable – it made him want to rip his hair out and scream until his lungs bled. Was he afraid you’d reject him after the attitude you just displayed? Yes! But if you did reject him, he'd just have to resort to more … drastic measures. He is a Riddle after all.
He quickly found you at the party and pulled you aside by your arm. You raised your eyebrows at him as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest – the smirk from before long gone.
“Look. I’m sorry for telling you what to wear. You are right – it isn’t my place to do so.” Hell yeah it is. Mattheo thought, not liking the bitter aftertaste the words left in his mouth. They were all lies. But it was either that or probably losing you.
His eyes lit up when he noticed your shoulders relax – your arms uncrossing and now hanging by your sides.
“Please forgive me. You’re just absolutely gorgeous and I guess I suddenly felt so insecure – which is not like me.” Mattheo added, inwardly gagging at the nonsense and vulnerability he was displaying. But you didn’t need to know that.
Jackpot. He thought as he watched your face soften, a reassuring smile on your face as you told him that there was no reason for him to be insecure.
Theodore …
… sighed defeatedly as you immediately pushed his hands off your body. He was caught off guard when you suddenly pushed him back out and slammed the door into his face.
“What the – come one!” He groaned, the lust from before being replaced by frustration. He tried turning the doorknob, but you had apparently locked it. Theodore rolled his eyes – he could always use his wand to unlock it. Leaning his forehead against the wooden surface of your door he spoke loud enough for you to hear.
“Bella, please open the door. Aren’t you overreacting?”
He was met with silence.
“Come on, open up and let’s talk about it.” He sighed heavily as he pressed his hear against the door.
But he was met with silence again.
“I was just worried about you, love.” Theo spoke louder, his patience wearing thin as he knocked loudly on your door.  He heard rustling behind the door but instead of unlocking the door you turned on some music. Loud music.
“That’s it.” Theodore grumbled under his breath before taking a step back. However, instead of using his wand – like any other student would have done – he chose to kick down the door. After a few tries he managed to break the lock, kicking the door open and walking into your room. He could fix the door later.
You stared at him in disbelief, your eyes wandering from your ruined door to his stoic face. He was panting slightly – obviously out of breath from the force he had to put into kicking the door down.
“Will you listen to me now?” He asked with his brow raised.
You crossed your arms defensively in front of your chest while avoiding eye contact. You wouldn’t give up that easily. Narrowing his eyes slightly, Theodore moved closer to you, his hands ghosting over your hips before slowly pulling you closer to him.
“Look, I’m really sorry for suffocating you with my love,” He murmured softly, his voice laced with hidden sarcasm, “I’ll stop annoying you with all the questioning. But I want you to know, that I’m just worried.” Theodore finished, his grip on your hips slightly tightening when you finally look up at him.
“Even Hogwarts isn’t as safe anymore.” His voice broke slightly towards the end of his sentence, his eyes downcast as his shoulders sagged. He knew you’d fall for it. You could never resist him if he acted so vulnerable in front of you – you’d have to hug him. And just as expected you immediately flung your arms around him, pulling him down to hug him. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck as you breathed in his scent with one of your hands combing through his hair. Theodore smirked as he tightened his hold on you, listening to you apologize for being such a diva and promising him to always tell him about your whereabouts – because he was right. Hogwarts wasn’t as safe anymore. Your boyfriend knew best, and he definitely knew how to play you like an instrument.
Lorenzo …
… was seething in his room. His mind swirling with what-ifs as he thought about you and Potter. His jaw clenched, gritting his teeth as he thought of the male. He hated him so much.  He hated him even more because he dared to befriend you – the love of his life. His girlfriend. He scoffed as he thought about your words. Annoyed that he couldn’t control you – that he couldn’t convince you to quit talking to that damned boy. He wanted to pay you back for it, make you suffer just as he was now. He wanted to see you cry and beg for him to love you. Only you. But he knew that whatever he had in mind would just push you away and right into that stupid Potter’s arms. He’d go ballistic if that happened.
He'd have to apologize. No matter how much he didn’t want to – because there was no reason to apologize, he had done nothing wrong – he knew that was what you wanted.
Letting himself fall on his bed he closed his eyes. He’d handle it tomorrow – he had to calm down first.
The next day Enzo went to Hogsmeade to buy you roses and your favorite sweets before making his way back to school. He kept going over the apology-speech he had thought of before going to sleep – hoping he’d not mess it up.
When he’d finally find you somewhere in the hallways he’d grow tense: There was still the lingering fear of you rejecting his apology. However, as soon as your eyes connected his shoulders relaxed slightly – you were so beautiful. Clearing his throat, he stopped two feet away from you, gripping the flowers in his hands tightly as he took in your appearance. You looked sad.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted yesterday. That was not fair of me at all.” Lorenzo apologized; his voice soft as he frowned slightly.
“I’ve been thinking about it the whole night …” Oh he had – he’d been thinking about all the ways he could make the Potter disappear.
“I feel horrible for the things I’ve said.” No, he didn’t. He still strongly believes he’s right.
“I have no right to tell you what to do and who to befriend.” Unfortunately, not. But he’d try to change that.
“Will you please forgive me?”
Draco …
… felt pathetic as he stood before you. His head hung low and his arms uselessly hanging at his sides – just as useless as he felt in that moment. He felt your eyes burn into him as you took in his appearance – you must be shocked to see him this disheveled. This broken. Your eyes softened slightly, your hands itching to lift his head and embrace him. He looked like he had been through hell. When he heard your soft voice uttering his name he dared to look up, his eyes red from the nightmares that haunted him in the nights. You couldn’t help it – you lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, your thumbs drawing small circles on his cheeks. You were close to tears.
“I’m so sorry …” He mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his eyes again. “I’m so ashamed for the things I’ve said …” His voice broke, his whole body shaking from the sob that forced its way through his lips. Your heart shattered into tiny pieces – your poor boyfriend. You suddenly felt stupid for being friends with Potter and the rest, knowing well that he suffered so much because of them. Shaking your head you pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly as you patted his back reassuringly, telling him how sorry you were for being so inconsiderate. For putting them above him.
Draco returned the hug hesitantly, desperately clinging onto your sweater as he cried into your hair with a small smile on his lips. Everything was going according to plan.
Blaise …
… wasn’t so sure anymore. Three days had passed, and you had still not come to him – neither did you reply to any of his messages. With a heavy sigh he stood up from his bed: He’d have to make it up to you, there was no other way around it.
Finding you was rather easy – he had gone to your dorm-room first. Knocking on your door he waited for a few seconds before you opened it, clad in joggers and his hoodie. You immediately frowned when you saw him, pushing the door close. Blaise reacted quickly and put his foot between the door and the doorframe.
“I want to apologize.” He rushed out, pulling his foot back when you opened the door again.
“I’m really sorry for what I did. I know you hate it when I get violent and I’m sorry I acted that way. Really – please, I’ll change.” He whispered brokenly as he stared deep into your eyes.
Tom …
… Riddle didn’t beg or ask for forgiveness. Never. But after a whole week of you ignoring him, he has had enough. He apparently needed you more than he let on – and more then you needed him, which bothered him tremendously.  He had tried everything: Read your mind, manipulate your thoughts – he even made Snape partner up with you for a project. But nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t see into your mind, and you skipped potions to avoid him as well. He had to talk to you. With clenched fists and a tight jaw, he approached you after dinner when you were alone.
“Why have you been ignoring me?” He questioned. His voice causing you to flinch and spin around to face him. You looked slightly nervous when you noticed him. Good. Tom thought. You didn’t answer him right away, which further added to his frustration. He wasn’t known to be a patient man. “Do you think you can survive without me?” He asked cockily, with his hand in his pockets – his fingers playing with his wand. Just in case.
You scoffed at his attitude. Even now, when he should be apologizing, he was nothing but arrogant. Rolling your eyes at him you told him to leave you alone – telling him it was over before taking a few steps back. You were afraid to turn your back towards him. And right you were – but you underestimated him. For he didn’t need you to turn his back towards him to take action. He whipped out his wand and grit out the imperio spell with a small flick of his wrist. You never stood a chance. Your eyes turned a misty color as they watched the tall male step closer to you. His free hand shooting out to softly caress your cheek before gripping your chin tightly.
“Foolish little girl. There is no escape. You will stay with me and obey me … no matter what.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 6 months
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Hi, so I am a lover of angst, hurt/comfort is my favorite. Anyways if it is okay may I please request an injured gn s/o (maybe s/o took a hit meant for them) either Sunday, Dan Heng, Argenti, basically as many or as few of the hsr men as you want. But if you don’t want to do this that’s okay, you are the author after all so yeah. Anyways love ya and have fun darling /lh
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Sunday: he doesn’t take news of your injury lightly. At all.
You getting hurt was unacceptable and Sunday will let that be known as he demands a search party to look for the person(s) responsible for your injury.
He becomes incredibly suffocating during your recovery period. He will want to do everything for you so that you’d never have to raise a hand yourself.
He’s waiting on your hand and foot as he slowly grows more and more infuriated with the lack of progress made with the hunt search for your attacker.
He’s been told not to focus on such trivial matters and pat more attention to matters regarding The Family, but in his heart of hearts Sunday knew he couldn’t fulfil his duties as head, not when you were bed bound by your injuries and rendered helpless.
It’s not the first time he’s been reprimanded for such behaviour and actions before, but at some point Sunday just didn’t care enough to head those warnings as he spent most of his time feeding you, bathing you, clothing you and overall monitoring your health as he didn’t trust anyone outside to do so without the usage of foul play.
He’d might even use this as an opportunity to show you that you were never going to be safe if you stray from his side, for he couldn’t protect you if you were to wander far from his sight.
He wants you by him 24/7 and if you were to go anywhere, it was to be with his approval and administration.
Was this controlling? Yes but he was doing this for you, don’t you see? Nowhere is safe because everyone knows your relationship to him and they’ll use that to their advantage. He can’t keep you safe if he doesn’t know where you are all the time and if he had it his way, you’d never leave the house at all.
Sunday knows best, so you’d be wise to listen to him from here on out.
Argenti: utterly heartbroken and enraged that someone would dare hurt his beautiful flower.
He doesn’t take your safely lightly.
It was his solemn duty to protect and preserve all things beautiful and you were high up on his list of priorities.
He honestly wouldn’t know what he’d do without you, his rose, his most beloved and the most beautiful soul he’s ever gazed his eyes upon.
He makes up for the fact that you were injured by staying by your side, offering reassuring words throughout your healing journey, and always being there to catch you when you fall.
He’d even go as far as forgoing taking care of himself in exchange for making sure that you were bathed, clothed, fed and so on. He looks perpetually tired but yet so beautiful with that soft smile gracing his lips as he gazed at you with all the affection he could muster.
You naturally had to force him to take a break from caring for you and have a power nap with you instead as you couldn’t stand another moment more of Argenti ignoring his own needs for your own.
‘I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you my flower. I’m meant to be your knight, but you became mine instead when I got distracted in battle.’ He says.
‘I’d gladly be your knight all the time in gratitude for everything you’ve ever done for me Argenti.’ You replied softly, holding his hands and watching him melt into your touch, revealing in your warmth. ‘So please don’t take my injury to heart, even though I know you’ve already have. I just don’t want you blaming yourself for something that happened out of our control.’ You finished as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.
‘I can’t promise anything dearest, seeing you hurt wounds me deeply as though I’ve been the one injured instead, but I’m willing to try. For you my heart.’ Argenti said and he truly meant it, but during the heat of battle that’s when he took his position as a knight seriously, as he would guard you with everything he had whsilt also staying true to his chivalrous nature.
Dan Heng: the moment he saw you get hurt, he’s mentally zoned out as his body takes over as he finds himself hovering over your body protectively, weapon in hand.
He refuses anyone to get near you as he’d lash out on instinct to protect you, his beloved.
He hates, no, despises the fact that he couldn’t protect you and will blame himself for it, until Welt has to step in and tell him that this mindset isn’t the mindset he should be having right now, not when you needed him as your pillar during your recovery.
That snaps Dan Heng out of it really quickly as he focuses on helping you recover and he takes that responsibility seriously. Though that never stops the guilt that he felt whenever looking at your healed scar, it served as a reminder of his greatest failure in protecting someone he loved.
It sickened him that after all this time he could still be proven to be weak in moments where he needed to be strong. He feels as though he’s failed you as a partner, but you never hold it again him as you reassure him while softly kissing his face.
‘It’s not your fault Dan Heng.’ You’d tell him frequently.
‘Then why does it feel like it is?’ He asks as his eye linger on your scar with melancholy.
He was so close to loosing you that day that whenever you were to fight, Dan Heng would be close by watching your back and covering your weak spots like he was made to know your fighting style as intimately as he did.
Nowadays he’s over protective and hovering over you 24/7 from the shadows, fae enough to give you space but close enough to protect you should the need arise.
He’s still trying to make up for the fact that he failed but to himself rather then anybody else, for no one held him more accountable for your injury then himself.
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pure-smut · 1 month
Text
the taste of you.
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featuring: Laios Touden x f!reader
contains: you're a succubus and Laios wants to eat you (out), cunnilingus, mention of death
word count: 1.4k
note: all characters are 21+!
MDNI | 18+ content
series: 1. the taste of you | 2. the feel of you
masterlist
You’re lounging in the small, rocky pool of your home, dipping your head back in the water to clean your hair. Your floor of the dungeon resembles a mini paradise, all fresh water and cherry blossoms and soft, vibrant grass. You love living here, your own space shared with no one – except the odd dungeon crawler, traipsing through your home with their dirty boots and loud voices.
You don’t mind though. You have to eat sometime.
You’re not a bad monster, you just get hungry. And it’s not like the men who stumble across you aren’t willing, they just forgo all logic and think with that thing between their legs. Once you’ve had your fill, drained the life from their bodies as they spill their seed inside you, you leave their bodies by the entrance as a kindness.
You’re starting to get hungry again, starting to wonder when someone new will visit, when you hear the rasp of metal armour. You smooth your wet hair back and turn to the source of the disruption.
A tall man with fair hair stands at the edge of your pool.
Perfect.
You rise from the water, exposing your bare chest, and smile sweetly at him.
“A weary traveller,” you say. “In need of refuge.”
The man only stares at you, a notch between his brows. It’s not the same hungry look that men usually give you, their instincts already taking over before you even touch them. You wait a moment for him to say something but he doesn’t, only studies you.
“Your name?” you ask, trying a different tact.
“Laios,” he replies.
“Laios,” you repeat, rolling his name around your mouth.
“And yours?”
You smile. Only a few men have ever asked your name, some of them thinking it will save them from their fate. It doesn’t.
“Y/N,” you tell him and he considers this.
After a beat, he offers his hand out to you. You take it, stepping out of the pool to stand naked in front of him. When Laios looks you up and down, it doesn’t feel the same as the other men. It feels… curious.
“Come, Laios.” You keep holding his hand, guiding him to a clear area of soft grass. “Sit with me.”
Laios does what you say, kneeling politely in front of you. You sit opposite and spread your legs for him, leaning back on your arms. Laios’s eyes trail down to your glistening lips, making you smile. He is still a man after all.
“You’re tired,” you say sympathetically. “Your body is sore, your mind is weary. Take some respite with me, Laios. I’ll take care of you.”
Laios’s golden eyes flick up to yours.
“You’re a succubus,” he states. You smile and shrug.
“I am.”
He holds his chin in thought as you wait for him quietly.
“Will my body be recovered? he eventually asks.
You huff a laugh in surprise. No one’s ever planned their death in advance before. There’s always a hint of hubris, of thinking they can pull back at the last moment, not knowing you have them as soon as they’re inside you.
“Yes.” You reward his honesty with your own. “I leave the bodies by the entrance so they can be found.”
Laios looks pleased, gifting you his first smile since he arrived.
“Not many monsters care about that,” he says.
“Well, I have to eat, that's all.” You shrug again. “Otherwise I’ll starve.”
Laios’s eyes brighten.
“I’m hungry, too,” he says.
Huh, that’s a weird thing to say. You shake the thought off as Laios moves closer to you, gently pushing your knees apart to make space for himself. His eyes are glued on the fruit between your legs, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. You grin and rest back further, sinking onto your forearms. You’re looking forward to your meal – little do you know that Laios is as well.
Laios stands to tugs off his armour, carefully laying the pieces down in a neat pile, leaving himself in his undershirt and drawers. When he falls back down to his knees between your legs, you expect him to pull his cock free, to sink himself into you as soon as possible.
You don’t expect him to bend down and run his tongue along your pussy.
You inhale sharply, nearly pulling back in shock. You stare down at him as Laios raises his head, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Sweet,” he says, rolling his tongue in his mouth. “A slight tang and… hm. Something else.”
It takes you a second to realise he’s talking about you. About your taste.
With wide eyes, you watch Laios as he lies down on his stomach to get more comfortable. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you to him and licks another stripe along your folds. His broad tongue splits your lips as he finds your hole, the source of your nectar. Laios makes a content noise as he pushes his tongue inside you.
You shudder with pleasure, reaching down to slide your fingers through his hair. His strong nose nudges your clit, heightening your enjoyment.
Laios laps at your hole, delighted by the taste of you, your flavour dancing along his tongue. You’re not like he expected, much sweeter and earthier, but delicious either way. And he’d be lying if he said he isn’t enjoying the noises you make, the little quiver of your thighs. Eating is an experience, he knows.  The way you whimper and scratch at his scalp is part of the experience, part of why you taste so good.
Laios moves away from your hole, licking his way up to your clit. He finds it swollen and slippery with more of your arousal so he flattens his tongue and swipes broad strokes over it. You tug his hair a little tighter, your moans a little louder.
You’re leaning back, supporting yourself on one arm as you look down at Laios, watching him feast on you, his lips flush to your mound. His eyes are closed in bliss, his brows pushed together in the middle.
Laios sucks softly on your swollen bud and moans into your pussy. You cry out, pleasure seizing you in a vice grip. You squeeze his head between your thighs, the dungeon echoing with your ragged moans. When you’re too sensitive to continue, Laios moves back down to your hole, lapping at you once more, eager for the juices he just caused.
You lay back, chest heaving as Laios continues to lick you deep. You let him, enjoying the feel of his tongue against your less sensitive nerves. Laios only pulls back when his jaw cramps, stopping him.
You prop yourself back up on your forearms to look at him. Laios’s mouth and chin is shiny with your arousal, which he doesn’t bother to wipe off.
“Definitely sweet,” he confirms, his eyes alight and a grin on his face. He absently rubs his jaw, trying to work away the cramp. “Which makes sense – succubus tend to eat a lot of fruit.”
You listen to him, still slightly dazed from your orgasm, as Laios continues thinking out loud, theorising your taste and growing more animated by the second. His excitement is palpable and you can’t help but smile at him but you’re distracted. There’s a strange feeling in your stomach, something familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. You’re still trying to place it when Laios interrupts your train of thought.
“I’m curious about something though,” he says, flexing his hands and looking down at them. “Why haven’t I died?”
You scrunch up your face in confusion.
“What?”
“I thought I’d be dead.” Laios looks equally confused. “Isn’t that what a succubus does? Drains energy?”
Huh. You guess you’d never thought about what would happen if someone had sex with you without penetration.
“You know, I’m not sure,” you answer truthfully. “I’ve only ever drained them through their…”
You pointedly look down, noting that Laios is sporting a sizeable tent in his drawers despite his curious enthusiasm.
“Oh.” He looks down before glancing up again, his knuckle pressed against his lips in thought. “That’s interesting. Would it need to be genitals or would fingers work? I definitely had my tongue inside you so we can rule that out.”
Laios goes onto another tirade again, his face alight. You watch this adorable weirdo enthuse about what appendage he could safely put inside you and feel your face breaking out in a smile.
You enjoy being alone, being in your own company, but it’s been a while since you were this entertained.
“Laios,” you say, interrupting him gently.
“Hm?”
You beckon him closer, brushing your thumb across the light stubble on his jaw. He’s quite handsome, you think. How did you not notice before? You grin at him.
“Why don’t we try some of your theories out?”
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