#proceeds to shut down entirely

[flamestar126]

Would a kiss suffice?

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

hold on ok i belted out a brief laughingstock Scene for possible future use that i Had to write down bc if i didn't, i'd never remember it. and why not share?

~

“Barnaby? Barnaby, old chap, are you with me?” 

Barnaby blinks, registering the green fingers snapping in front of his nose. He huffs a laugh and pushes Howdy’s hand away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. You were saying?”

Howdy gives him an exasperated look, a fond look. “Thinking about running off to a farm again, were you?”

“Nah, just the clouds. They’re a lot less work.”

“Well I’d rather you didn’t. Who would I talk to during the long hours if you went and floated off?” Howdy winks before turning to his shelves, already yammering away about something or other.

Something or other that Barnaby is once again not listening to, because what was that? Barnaby quickly presses his cool paw-pads to his burning cheeks, feeling the bristling fur there. 

Has Howdy ever winked at him? Now that he’s noticed it, Barnaby can’t recall. If it’s new, then why? Why a wink of all things? What did that mean? And that look Howdy gave him… 

Barnaby adjusts his abruptly too-tight tie. It’s unusually warm in the store, isn’t it? Howdy must have forgotten to turn on the AC. 

Gosh, what is Howdy even saying? He’s still talking, but Barnaby hasn’t absorbed a word. He can’t even tell if Howdy is still speaking english. It’s all garbled.

There’s something wrong with Barnaby. He must be coming down with something… or he’s just overthinking it. Overworking the ol’ noggin. A good long nap should set him right. 

“Listen,” Barnaby interrupts, patting the counter, “I uh, I don’t know where my head’s at. I better go find it - I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Oh… alright, then,” Howdy says, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. 

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Barnaby slaps that thought out of the park. He doesn’t want Howdy to be disappointed, that’s absurd. That’s something a bad friend would think. Barnaby may be many things, but a bad friend isn’t one of them.

“I’ll whip up a joke that’ll knock your socks off next time I see ya,” Barnaby promises. He smiles around the discomfort and the entirely new feeling squirming around each other in his chest. 

“Now you’ve gone and brought up my expectations,” Howdy says. He leans on the counter and grins. “Are you sure you can back up such a claim, Mr. Beagle?”

Another hot flush races under Barnaby’s fur, and to his growing mortification, his tail starts wagging at breakneck speed. He lets out an uncharacteristically nervous laugh and backs away from the counter. To both of their horror, his back hits a shelf, making it rattle and tip.

“Oh, sh-” Barnaby lunges to right it before it can topple. He whips around and laughs again. Howdy’s wide-eyed stare burns. “Sorry ‘bout that! Talk about a bulldog in a bugshop, geez.”

“When you find your head, make sure to screw it on nice and tight,” Howdy says, a strange look on his face to match his tone. “And check your temperature while you’re at it - it’s not like you to be off-balance.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m off-balance,” Barnaby says. He inches towards the door, willing his stupid tail to calm down. “I just have ears instead of rearview mirrors.”

“Uh-huh…” Howdy slides to the side, trying to peer around him. 

Barnaby fumbles for the door. The scrape and bang of his search for the handle echoes in the quiet store. One of Howdy’s eyebrows creeps higher the longer Barnaby stands there, making a complete fool of himself. 

Finally, the door clicks, and Barnaby nearly tumbles over backwards in his haste to get out. He stumbles down the steps and briskly walks away, adjusting his hat and tie. As soon as he’s out of sight, he slaps his paws to his face and sags against the bodega.

“Idiot,” he hisses to himself. He presses his back flat against the wall and slams the side of his fist against it. Normally, Barnaby would use a situation like this to his advantage. But Howdy wasn’t laughing, and Barnaby wasn’t being funny. “Bulldog in a - gah, idiot!”

Great. Now Howdy thinks he’s not only a clumsy oaf, but that he’s losing his touch too.

Barnaby growls in frustration, pushing off the wall and stomping away from the plaza on all fours. What does he care what Howdy thinks of him? Others’ opinions of Barnaby have never been anywhere near his list of top priorities - barring Wally’s, of course. If they were, he'd never tell another joke again.

Yes, Howdy is a good friend of Barnaby’s. A close friend, even. But since when has he had such a - such an effect? Barnaby shakes his head, growling again. 

There was no effect. Barnaby is just going insane. Or he’s getting sick, like Howdy implied. That would explain the sudden hot flash, the loss of typically impeccable coordination, and, oh yeah! Barnaby’s brain leaking out of his ears.  

[marmotish]

((you ever have a social interaction so odd that talking about it isn’t enough to process it and you have to draw it? no? just me? ok.))

The Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Transportation is not having a good day. Due to “unforeseen extenuating circumstances”, the Floo Network is temporarily out of operation, leaving Freyja in the middle of city centre at 4 in the morning after a long emergency call-out. She just wants to get home ASAP. So she decides to bite the bullet and get a Black Hack home.

Of all the things that could’ve come out of that cabbie’s mouth, she wasn’t expecting that.

[goleb]

Is the DHMIS Gem AU mostly wholesome like Steven Universe, or does it have some grim things happening to the main characters?

I'd argue Steven Universe has a plethora of really dark moments and concepts that get overlooked or aren't dwelled on too hard due to having Steven as the center focus, so in that way, yes, it's exactly like Steven Universe 😂 But in all seriousness, while the overall plot isn't as concrete and developed YET (mostly from being a relatively recent creation, compared to something like, say, my KGTV Gem AU, which is also significantly darker and flavourably edgier in terms of themes, but we're not here to talk about that) I'd say it's a lot more domestic slice of life than anything else. It's actually pretty close to the Orphanage AU in that regard, haha. 

I don't wanna leave you with that short of an answer so, uh, here's some of my brainstorming attempt doodles. 

Sketchbook is a glass prism because light refraction makes rainbows out of something that's clear, and drawing in a sketchbook makes something pretty out of empty pages. That's it, that's my logic. Theoretically Sketchbook could have been an iris agate as well, but I left that option for one of the fusions instead. Bit of an off-colour, but aren't they all… 

Tony is a blue star sapphire, because sapphires in the show are associated with time through their future vision (or past vision, in Padparadscha's case) so it's reasonable to assume a star sapphire would be as well. Also an excuse to keep his face markings, to be honest. Not quite satisfied with the gem colour-wise but who's gonna stop me from taking artistic liberties on that? 

Shrignold is a permafusion of a Rhodochrosite (associated with love, has variants that go from Sugary Pastel Pink to Raw Meat which I trust I don't have to explain in relation to Shrignold, haha) and an Aquamarine (considering the aquamarines already present in the show, butterfly theme and all), making a butterfly jasper (for obvious reasons). 

Colin and Laptop are quartzes, because quartz is commonly used in computers and stuff (and to keep time!), at least as far as I know. It's a deviation from the show because I was never fond of the whole "every gem of this type has the same role and looks and body type and corrupted form" for quartzes especially. I had to actively keep myself from making them heinrichites because it looks like a circuit board and, well, you know. Computers! And for some reason I automatically associate anything lime green with Colin even though there is nothing lime green about him. But who knows, maybe I'll go back on that decision, everything I say is still subject to change. Gilbert is also there, by the way. He's an Azurite-Malachite. 

Spinach Can is a moldavite, Lambchop is a red agate, Bread Boy is a bronzite, and I'm a bit on the undecided in terms of what Fridge ought to be. I sort of settled on scolecite. Didn't want to make it something as obvious as literal ice. Finally, Lamp Guy is a blue goldstone. It looks like a night sky, that's obvious enough 😂 

🤫🤫🤫 

Both Yellow and Special One are half-gems, a childrenite and a pink petalite respectively. Roy isn't a gem in this one, but you know me, I do love my AU variations, even if they don't ultimately lead to anything proper. He is inherently a citrine though, if you're wondering. And that's my favourite gem C: 

[sttoru]

A WELCOMED INTERRUPTION !

ෆ sypnosis. shiu kong catches toji and you in the living room. toji decides to invite shiu into the fun and he agrees after some deep thinking.

ෆ note. this is a part two to this post ! make sure to read that one first. &&i’m happy u all enjoyed the first part ehhh.. i tried my best w this one too, enjoy. also not entirely proof read so excuse the possible mistakes. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. dom!toji (+shiu) x female reader. three some, blowjob, breast play, objectification, degradation, name calling (whore, slut), cum play, free use, dacryphilia, creampies, male masturbation, voyeurism-ish, multiple orgasms, spanking, hair pulling, overstimulation, doggy style, breeding mention. toji’s mean, shiu a bit less.

“fine, but we have ten minutes.”

shiu kong crosses the room in a couple strides, hands skilfully removing piece after piece of his clothing until he was left in nothing. you couldn’t quite figure out the unreadable expression on shiu’s face once he came close enough to toji and you on the leather couch.

it was impossible to do so through your tears. plus, due to the man on top of your body guiding your head back to look him in the eyes.

“just because he’s joining doesn’t mean y’re allowed to take those eyes off of me.” if toji wasn’t just a fling, you could’ve sworn that those words were said out of jealousy or possessiveness. even if he was the one who suggested the threesome in the first place.

toji hisses and grunts as he pulls all the way out of you before slamming back in twice as hard. your screams of pleasure were like music to his ear. and not only to toji’s ears; shiu was having a hard time holding his usual calm self together every time he hears your sensual moans.

“shit..” shiu curses under his breath, his demeanour slowly falling apart because of the sight in front of him. but, also because he secretly desires to be the one getting those reactions out of your mouth, “she’s quite noisy, eh?”

toji laughs a bit; a mean (almost condescending) laugh, “yeah— maybe we can see which one of us can make her even noiser, whadd’ya think?”

“..or ya can just make her shut up by stuffing that mouth full. your choice.”

your hands were trembling as they try to hold onto any solid object you could spot out of your peripheral vision. your tears withheld you from seeing toji’s agent masturbating; shiu’s rough hand was swiftly gliding up and down on his cock—coating it with his own pre-cum. if it wasn’t for his desire to dump his cum in any of your holes, he’d have released it all over his own hand already.

“i think i’ll put that mouth of hers to use.” shiu had lost the internal battle of keeping himself together as he walked closer to you, standing near your head and gently tapping the tip of his cock on your plump lips, “you know, toji’s told me you’re good at sucking men off and i’ve always wanted to test that claim myself.”

your eyes slightly widen in response, unable to comprehend anything in this situation you got yourself in. neither toji nor shiu cared about that; they just cared about the pleasure you were going to be giving them.

“c’mon,” toji grins and pulls out of you completely, looking down at his throbbing cock which was covered in your fluids before flipping you around on your stomach, “y’re gonna be a good little slut and suck that man off, yeah?”

shiu takes notice of toji’s action and immediately gets into position like the two have done this many times before with other women. the agent takes a seat in front of you, legs spread to give you a nice view of what he was packing between them. shiu’s back was resting against the armrest as his eyes were scanning your face from up close, “what a pretty girl.”

your mouth was watering more than it did previously, drops of saliva running down your chin as you stared at shiu’s cock in front of you. a harsh slap to your ass makes you squeal lightly and your pussy clench onto nothingness.

“i said something, didn’t i?” toji clicks his tongue while he checks out your ass in his position behind you, “get to work.”

your hands found their way to shiu’s thighs and they slid up until they were wrapped around the base of his cock. an almost unnoticeable grunt left shiu’s lips once he felt that jolt of pleasure run through his body from your simple touch. he had waited so long for this.

“fuck— take me in your mouth.” the older man breathlessly orders. you swallow the built-up saliva in the back of your throat and stick your tongue out to lick the tip of shiu’s dick— testing the waters first. as expected, shiu was easy to please since the man was already moaning and breathing heavy when you hadn’t even started yet.

toji looks down at the two and sees how you tease shiu by using your tongue. shiu was trembling a little, biting his bottom lip while one of his hands was tangled in your hair. the agent was trying very hard not to reach his climax already. not when he hasn’t felt your mouth around his cock at least once.

a smirk forms on toji’s lips as he sees the desperation and lust written all over shiu’s face. toji knew that you were good at giving blow jobs; the little teasing you did beforehand—where you’d hold eye contact with him while licking his length in small intervals—added to the entire experience.

“seems like you haven’t had any action in a while, huh?” toji grins while pumping his cock at the sight of you finally starting to suck shiu off. his hand moved in slow strokes, the other placed on your ass, prepared to slap it if you were caught slacking off.

“shut up, toji— shit!” shiu gasps and throws his head back once your mouth engulfs the fat tip of his dick. the warmth and wetness around his throbbing cock was driving him mad, “if i wasn’t too busy cleaning after your mess, i’d have a woman in my bedroom every day of the week.”

you held eye contact with shiu as he makes small talk with toji whom you couldn’t even see. you start bobbing your head in repeated up and down motions, his cock going in and out of your warm mouth, leaving it completely covered with your saliva in no time.

“fuckkk— she’s good.” shiu groans while his hand tugged at your hair, pressing down on your head to hit the back of your throat—the tip of your nose just a centimetre away from his lower abdomen, “way better than expected.”

that gains a small proud chuckle from toji. the assassin was starting to move, lining up his still hard cock against your entrance, “told ya. she sucks cock like a real fuckin’ slut—always knows what to do.”

shiu fully believes those uttered words as he sees you desperately suck him off, hands playing with his balls and sometimes stroking the rest of his length which you couldn’t fit in your mouth. your tears and drool were dripping down between his legs.

a muffled moan vibrates against shiu’s dick the moment you felt toji bully his way into your cunt again. this causes shiu to thrust his hips forward, making you almost choke at the unexpected movement.

“mhh, that’s hot.” shiu breaths out while holding onto your hair with both hands now, ready to repeat his actions since it added to his own pleasure, “do it again, come on—yeahhh— good girl.”

as you choke and slobber all over shiu’s length, toji starts to roughly pump back and forth, hands on your hips to keep your lower body up to meet his— “your cunt is so fuckin’ tight compared to before—fuck— bet it’s ‘cause you’re a slut who enjoys getting both her holes filled at the same time.”

toji smacks your ass a couple of times as his cock penetrates your cunt to its deepest point, “maybe we can fill a third one soon, don’cha think?”

yes, he was implying what you were thinking; anal sex. the nasty thought made you whimper and squirm under toji while continuing to move shiu’s cock in and out of your wet mouth in rapid strokes. shiu reacts to this by bucking his hips up again and again, moaning and grunting loudly, as was toji.

shiu looked down at you through his half closed eyes, enjoying the way you look with your mouth stuffed full of his cock. especially because you were crying as well; it made you look pathetic and helpless yet so attractive.

“fuck— with the way you’re sucking me off, i’m going to cum soon,” shiu says between shallow breaths, seeing your body powerlessly shift back and forth due to toji’s intense thrusts, “mhm— better swallow it all, okay?”

you let out a long, strangled moan. it wasn’t clear whether it was due to toji pounding you or shiu asking you that lewd favour. either way, shiu bucked his hips up one last time, hands clenching around your hair to push your head down all the way to the base of his cock before spurting his hot cum right down your throat—the taste bitter on your tongue.

“swallow,” the older man in front of you reminds you with a hoarse voice, keeping his dick between your lips to make sure you do as told before gradually taking it out with a hiss.

shiu taps the tip on your mouth a little to get the last drops of semen on your lips for you to lick off. toji’s agent started to lazily stroke his dick again, trying to make it hard so he could fuck you as well.

“mhh, want to cum in your pussy. maybe even breed you, huh?” shiu murmurs. his words were solely meant to fuel his desires and get his cock hard again, yet the thought could easily be made a reality.

toji groans as he hears his agent’s dirty talk about breeding you. this causes him to reach out and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back while he angled his hips in a way to hit your cervix repeatedly.

“fuck, i might even let him do that to ya—let him dump his load into your pussy along with mine.” toji grins, feeling like his cock was swelling even more with each deep thrust, “how ‘bout we try that out?”

shiu takes the chance to watch your tits again as they come into view. his body was relaxing against the armrest of the trembling couch, one hand reaching out to cup a breast and squeeze the hardened nipple.

“ah! yes, y-yes, wan’ both of your cum inside me, please.” you plead and your back arches from all the sensations the two men were granting you in this moment. toji groans loudly at your words, feeling even more turned on than ever and he makes that known.

“yeah? fuck— y’re such a desperate, greedy whore.” toji mocks and continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. shiu was still squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples, going from one to the other,

“just hold on, little girl— gonna stuff you full first.” toji adds and thrusts a couple more times before you sense that familiar feeling again; toji’s cum flooding your insides until it can’t help but leak onto your thighs.

with a deep sigh, toji pulls out again to watch the white liquid overflow from your filled hole. shiu, in the meantime, was still admiring your tits and now used both hands to play with them.

you were too fucked out to see the way the two men were silently exchanging glances. toji nodded downwards at his place behind you and shiu understood: the two were changing places.

shiu let your breasts go and stood up, toji following afterwards. the assassin and his agent slowly swapped positions and stroked their cocks at the sight of your spent body, quivering and silently sobbing from overstimulation.

“mind if i borrow her from now on, toji? just from time to time.” shiu asks with a deep hum, enjoying the sight of toji’s cum leaking out of your hole and the way it stained your skin as the sticky fluid left trails down your thighs.

toji snickers as he was getting his cock hard again by looking at your tits and head between his legs,

“nah, i don’t mind. as long as she returns to me at the end of the day.”

[anantaru]

— comforting you on a bad day

including — scaramouche, wriothesley, alhaitham, childe x gn! reader

genre — fluff, hurt -> comfort

— scaramouche

scaramouche finds you sitting on the couch, burying your face into your hands.

easy to see, he knew you must've had a bad day or that something inconvenient must've happen to you— and unquestionably, he feels a slight function of heartache when you're suddenly pulling your head up to look at him walk towards you, gloom settling on his countenance.

scaramouche doesn't say anything at first, he doesn't want to make you overwhelmed or like you had to talk about it, it was up to you if you wanted of course. but it was interesting to see how dependable he was on your happiness, because the man detested seeing your smile fade, he'd do anything to bring it back— as soon as you're sad, unahappy or dejected, he's beginning to feel it with you.

he was angry— bend out of his usual shape because he cannot find a quick solution to this, he just doesn't want to see you covered in a gloomy mask.

however, instead of resorting back to his past methods of handling situations such as those, especially the ones that come close to his own emotions, scaramouche decides to take a seat right next to you before placing his hand on his knee, but with his palm facing up— you see, as if to invite you to take it.

hopefully you do.

"you're quiet," he inquires shortly after, tilting his head to look at you, "on any other day, you'd greet me the moment i walk through that door," he purses his lips a little, the hand on his knee quietly turning impatient, like he's scared you won't take it— or even worse, what if he's the reason you felt this way?

troubled, scaramouche proceeds to look at you, and it might not come across like it since it can be quite difficult for him to show his proper feelings— but he'd do anything for you right now, if there's something he could do in order for your smile to appear again, he'd do it without batting an eye.

his throat lets go of a dry sigh when you take his hand sweetly before resting your head against his shoulder, holding your breath as you exhale through a crumbling heave.

scaramouche's grip on you tightens, "who did this to you?" he decides to ask, his voice growing an octave louder, ultimately signalizing the despair he felt from seeing you like this, "is there someone who made you feel this way? someone i should be aware of?" scaramouche had to know if there was a third party that was involved and most importantly, responsible for this— if so, you could easily leave it to him to take care of it.

you sniffle, the grip your hand had on his palm strengthening, "no one, it's just me," you embarrassingly rub your cheek against his shoulder as he leans back into the couch so you could make yourself more comfortable, "i just had a bad day, that's all," and as badly as your eyes wanted to flutter shut, you were frightened to do so due to possible tears dousing your cheeks.

for some reason, you didn't want him to see you cry— despite the fact that you would never be judged nor laughed at by him.

the man loves you dearly, he could tell the entire world about it— draw warm and tender words on a pavement blossoming with roses. it's truly a magical feeling, turning to dizzying deeds and actions when he gets to kiss and hug you, touch and caress you.

scaramouche whispers your name softly when he slowly runs his thumb to circle around your hand, "hey, you don't have to be sad anymore," at his sentence, you curiously turn your head up as best as you can when his eyes flitter down at you.

"i mean, since i'm back from the akademiya now, we can spend all night together," you make a hum of appreciation before shifting yourself into him so you're lying as close to your boyfriend as possible, "—besides," scaramouche continues as he rests his head against yours, his mind and spirit soothing yours, "if someone is, in fact, responsible for your sadness, i might need to take care of something else first."

you chuckle, believing he's joking before opting to peck his cheek as at the same time, he pulls you in for a proper kiss— ah well, how sweet, you're smiling now, he can sense it as denseness lifts from your shoulders.

strongly invaded by a warm cradle around your whole face, scaramouche silently takes your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, "i told you," he sternly reminds you, whispering his words as his brows narrowed, the muscles in your face beginning to soften upon receiving his homely touch.

"i won't let anyone or anything sadden you, doesn't matter what it is, i will make sure you're being taken care of."

— wriothesley

you do not move an inch, your body hemmed in a draining blanket that fueled a negative spot in your heart, but do not be mistaken because within this cold, you can feel the warmth of wriothesley's love all the more.

you're like a sheet of glass right now, utterly still, eyes open as if gazing into a dark hole, unable to move a single muscle by how challenging this day had been for you.

as soon as he shrouds your body against his arms and pushes you into his chest, your eyes are glazed in warm liquid that cover the majority of your cheeks, slowly eating away at your skin. your boyfriend doesn't mind when you're crying in front of him, quite the reverse actually, he sees it as you trusting him so much, that you're willing to be vulnerable in front of him.

as soon as he kisses your forehead in reassurance, the force of the impact your emotions have caused on your mental state lift a little, paired with your general feelings resulting in you stumbling forward into his embrace, your hands clumsily scrambling at his jacket as you sniffle into his chest.

in your relationship you didn't need to hide your raw emotions, not only would wriothesley see through you right away, but it's, bluntly saying, pointless to do that in the first place. the man knows that in this moment in time, he needs to be there for you, and he doesn't expect you to be happy and positive all the time.

yet seeing you like this feels like losing a limb, because you're completing wriothesley in a way, you're like a puzzle piece fixing his heart— the fear of being unable to help you, give you what you need was scrambling into his body and mind, and if you ultimately sought after it, the duke would gladly destroy anything to make you happy, including himself.

"sorry, am i being too much?" you sniffle out before rubbing your eyes to get rid of the blur, honestly clueless as to why you're apologizing in the first place, "i think you must've expected our date to turn out differently," you continue, it was all you could shove past the heavy lump in your throat. you're holding yourself on a single thread, deep breathes and hefty swallows, your soft fingers slipping beneath the back of his neck.

wriothesley smiled, feeling the pull of it behind his heart, he disliked whenever you were apologizing for things you cannot control, not to mention when they were so human too.

"not at all, do not say that," he answers, holding you close, "you will never be able to be too much for me," he promises as he sighs out, one last octave teasing the following as his lips slowly move with a warm tenderness on your forehead once he places a kiss on you.

— alhaitham

alhaitham will not touch you, yes, he will sit next to you and offer a shoulder for you to lean on if you so seek it, but he will not begin to speak first nor say anything at all— wether it's questioning your current state or beginning to somehow figure it out on his own.

instead, he just listens to you.

you can talk to your boyfriend about everything, he does not care if it's pointless gossip you've overheard the other day, or you talking about this new, exciting hobby you found or like now, something that has pulled and squeezed at your heart like you're unable to breathe anymore.

he will not interrupt you, the man will make sure you can scream your heart out of your chest if it means that you feel better afterwards. he's a good listener and when you tell him everything that's on your mind, alhaitham will subconsciously ponder about possible solutions on how to help you out.

"nothing could be more human than this, don't ever feel like you have to hide this from me," he says as your tears slip beyond your control, rushing uncontrollably. alhaitham desired you beyond any significant reason, he has fallen for you and such fact will never falter, it's beyond native intelligence, beyond common sense.

although sometimes, he can trail off, it's cute, especially when he's catching himself admiring his darling, "you're so beautiful, have i told you that today?" for a second, right after you tipple over his words, your body is unable to react, and then you cannot help yourself but let go of a chuckle.

his sudden compliment came so unexpected regardless of your boyfriend being blunt by nature, "you're telling me this while i'm crying and looking like a mess?" your lips curve into a flustered smile, cutting through your initial weary facade. the chilling waves that flung into your body surely caused havoc, but it was almost frightening by how fast alhaitham could change your mood. 

"I thought you should know," he ponders, softly pushing your head up so you could look at him, "you're always beautiful to me, that has nothing to do with how you're feeling,"

shortly after, you lean into a tender kiss, chasing the love he was always providing you with— this time, simply feeling him once wasn't enough, so you kiss him again, again and again, leaving him with enlarged pupils as he pulls gently away.

— childe

childe will find things to make you feel better, heavy emphasized on the find.

it's something he has to get done and despite the fact that he might not seem like it, he feels it with you, everything, it impact him, regardless if you're being drained that day, saddened or if it even has anything to do with him in the first place.

naturally, he'd also pamper you so you're feeling more comfortable, but such wasn't necessarily a new in your relationship, he clearly has a habit of spoiling you to bits— the celestial bodies decorating the world, yes, ajax would reach for the stars in the sky if you so wished for them.

you're aware that he's mostly absent due to his work requiring him for the most times, but he'd make sure to be by your side the moment he realizes you're genuinely not feeling well. childe is quite adapt of finding a way to make what he wants to achieve possible so do not worry yourself, he will never let you down.

for all that, do not get greatly surprised when he's starting to throw around unfunny jokes his brother might've told him or tell you a story about how hilariously weird his fellow colleagues can be, not to mention scary which was rib-tickling in its own manner.

the man will get nervous too and it's cute, it's his first serious relationship and he doesn't want to do anything wrong. also, important side note but it goes without saying that him being this adorable will already lift your mood a bit.

he's also a little overwhelmed by the situation and is scared to make it somehow worse for you. little does he realize that you're so thankful to him, in fact, you do not need him to magically solve the problems for you, your boyfriend just being here and listening was enough to find comfort.

it's all the more charming, he is, how he smiles from head to toe when you're searching his snug, pleasant hugs when he lets you sob into his chest.

"you're so comfy," you mumble into his jacket before rubbing your cheek over the place where you could faintly notice his fastened heart thumping beneath his ribcage.

your message makes him immediately blush, scarlet red catching his skin and setting it ablaze as he averts his gaze a little to conceal it.

childe doesn't necessarily think he's good at comforting somebody, but he shows you another smile when you gaze up at him, his grin close-lipped but bright as a bared tooth, "i'm sorry, i know i have neglected you recently," you recognize the weary weight of his words, how they're crumpling off his face, "my work, ugh, i know i should've been there for you more," he groans, "you don't deserve to be alone all the time,"

"it's not your fault," you draw a shaky gasp, panicked arms flying to his neck to wrap around him, "you're here now, aren't you?" your eyes glow, flickering with an impression that he cannot forget, it's boiling over until reaching the surface of your complete countenance, "can you stay for the night? only if it's possible," you reluctantly continue.

it's important to note that you really do not fault him, childe was not only providing for his family, but he wanted to give you a life where you do not have to worry about the material aspect of living.

ajax slides his large palm soothingly along the shiver of pain wracking your frame as he listlessly rests his head against yours, "i'll stay as long as you want me to, until you're feeling better, until you can smile again."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[ickadori]

++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘

[summary] wriothesley has noticed a change in your behavior towards him, and thinking the worst, he keeps himself busy in the fortress of meropide as he awaits your certain rejection. instead, he learns that you had the notion in your head that he could ever love anyone else besides you, and proceeds to clear your head of such silly thoughts.

[cws] fem reader -> wrio’s wife. angst to comfort to smut. oral. minor overstimulation. wrio is in his feelings, heavily. reader thought wrio was interested in clorinde. wrio thinks he isn’t good enough for you -> self doubt/self degradation. 3.4k

Somewhere along the line, Wriothesley had messed up.

This wouldn’t have been an issue in and of itself — Wriothesley’s life had been riddled with his mistakes ever since he was a teen, after all, one after the other just piling up— he always took responsibility for his shortcomings, his oversights, his negligence, especially when it came to you.

He was always the first to admit that he wasn’t perfect, and always the first to apologize for it, fully believing that you deserved nothing short of it. But this time, he wasn’t sure exactly what he should apologize for. To him, he had been doing everything right recently.

Things between you two had been peaceful, jovial, full of shared love and happiness… or maybe that had been entirely on his end. Maybe his unrelenting love for you had somehow managed to overshadow your distaste, your unhappiness, your subtle clues hinting towards what the problem was.

Maybe your loving grace had finally run out — you had finally matured and realized that you could so much better than being tied down to a man littered with scars so deep that they allowed you to see what he was really made of; something murky and dark and wholly unfitting to be so close to someone such as yourself.

If that were the case, and you had finally come to your senses and were regretting allowing him to slip that ring onto your finger, were regretting all the hushed declarations of love whispered to each other in the early hours of the morning, regretting all the times you had given yourself to him, allowed him to be the first to touch you and promised him that he’d be the last, then he would let you go.

All Wriothesley ever wanted in life was to see you happy. He had hoped it would be with him, that he’d be able to turn to face you in bed and not have a doubt in his mind that you were and content by his side, the truth reflected in your eyes. But if he couldn’t have that, have you, then… he had lost before and made it, scathed but alive, and he could surely do it again.

He first noticed a change after the gates holding the Primordial waters were broken. The two of you had been in his office - you taking on the arduous task of organizing his books, while he had been nose deep in a pile of paperwork that he had neglected for far too long.

The sirens blaring had sent the both of you into a frozen stupor, you in disbelief and him in horror, but he had broken out of his quickly. He had rounded his desk and taken your arm, quickly leading you down the stairs and out of the door to his office. He had told you to leave, go to safety, go to Neuvillette, and when you had opened your mouth to protest, he had kissed you in earnest and pushed you through the door before shutting it behind you.

After the crisis had been averted, Neuvillette’s seal holding back the waters for just a bit longer, he had sought you out immediately. He found you in your shared home curled up in bed, his pillow clutched to your chest as tears wet your cheeks.

Wriothesley calls your name, his voice raspy and winded, a result of all the running and panicking he had done in his desperation to find you.

Your head snaps up in an instant, puffy eyes moving to him, and he can see the relief in your face; eyes getting a bit of their light back, lips turning up a bit from where they previously fixed in an open sob. “Wrio,” you cry, and then he’s on you, the bed dipping underneath the added weight as he covers you with his body, arms winding around you tight as he holds you, basking in what the waters tried to steal away from him.

The two of you had made love that same night, if you could really call it that. He had pressed himself into your heat, bodies tightly pressed together, and had rocked into you while he whispered his fears against your shoulder and you cried yours into the crook of his neck. Neither of you had come, the high emotions of the day blocking off the path to that blinding bliss, but it hadn’t been any less pleasurable or special.

It had brought Wriothesley closer to you — the act of nearly losing you had solidified that he’d be lost without you. That a part of him would be forever broken beyond repair if you were to no longer be by his side.

With how you’ve been acting as of recent, he guesses the opposite could be said for you. Perhaps the experience had forced you to see your regrets in life; him, and perhaps you were mulling over what to do in your head.

Wriothesley sighs, calloused hands moving to sift through his hair as he tries to fight off the throbbing at his temples. The headaches came back with a vengeance each day, Sigewinne’s remedies doing next to nothing to alleviate him of his misery.

He’s been down in the Fortress of Meropide for days now, not able to stomach your off-standish behavior for too long lest he break down at your feet and beg for forgiveness that he never deserved in the first place. You weren’t cruel to him, he doubts that you could be cruel to anyone, no matter their sin, but you were different.

His appearance didn’t bring forth the blinding smile it once did before, but rather a more muted one, a placid one. You didn’t rush him and drown him with your kisses, but rather pressed a fleeting one to his lips before skirting off somewhere. You didn’t curl into his side at night, your legs tangled together while you told him about your day until you eventually drifted off, but instead kept your back to him while you made sure to stay on your side.

It was the small things that crushed him, threatened to grind him into dust and let the wind blow him away, so instead of seeing his demise unfold before him, he decided to be ignorant and lock himself away underneath the sea.

There’s a heavy knock at his office door, and he wants to delude himself into thinking you’ve come for a visit, the past few weeks having never happened, but you had never been one to knock, instead slipping inside and bounding up the steps with a sweet call of his name on your lips.

“Come in.” He calls, not bothering to straighten out his shirt or smooth his hair down as he listens to the ‘clink’ ‘clink’ of a pair of heels ascending the stairs.

“Wriothesley.”

“Clorinde.” He greets, eyes moving to her in lazy acknowledgment before settling on a chip in his desk. “I thought I told you last time that your recurring presence wasn’t needed. The seal will buy us some time, and the Harbinger still hasn’t returned. It wouldn’t be entirely wrong to assume him as dead.”

Wriothesley held deep respect for Clorinde and her fighting prowess, and the two had even shared a few cups of tea and held casual conversation, but there was only one person that he wanted to see in this moment, and it certainly wasn’t her.

“I’m not here on business.”

“I’m not in the mood to entertain.”

“Oh, I’m not here to make idle talk with you either — I’d get more of a conversation out of a bloated corpse before I got one out of you.” He looks at her, tongue prodding at his cheek. “I’m here on the behalf of your wife.”

He perks up at that, eyes growing alert and heart stuttering in his chest as he begins to rise out of his seat. “Is something wrong? Is she alright? Where is she?” Clorinde lowers herself into the chair on the opposite side of his desk, not a hint of urgency in her face, and Wriothesley wants to reach across the desk and shake her words out of her. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing that requires your current level of panic.” She softly shakes her head, a rare flash of amusement shining in her eyes. “She’s safe, a bit misconstrued, but entirely safe. She’s currently in the Palais Mermonia lamenting to Neuvillette about how her husband no longer loves her.”

“…that’s absurd.” Utterly absurd, completely inconceivable. He didn’t love you? He breathed for you, lived for you. “That’s absurd.”

“Neuvillette told her as much. But she’s convinced that your gaze has wandered to another.”

“What? I don’t— I’ve never looked at anyone else besides her.” The pure truth. You had stolen his undivided attention from the moment he first saw you and had refused to let it loose. He thought about you when he woke up, as he went about his duties, as he sat down to take a break, as he strolled the dark, cold halls of Meropide and wished he had your touch to warm him up, you, always you, only you.

“My frequent appearances in the Fortress of Meropide may have contributed to that notion.” Wriothesley blinks, rusty gears in his head churning as he tries to think. You had been acting strange ever since the gate failed, and Clorinde had been a recurring visitor ever since. She had helped him hold off the water and the damage had been minimal, but the situation still needed to be closely monitored, and he had already had his hands full with trying to get the prison back in the swing of things, so he had left that aspect to her.

He remembers now — your impromptu visits. You’d carve out pieces of your day to come and see him, only to be met with the sight of him in conversation with Clorinde, the both of them completely engaged as they mulled over the situation. Wriothesley would turn his attention to you the moment he noticed you, would greet you as he always did, but maybe… maybe it wasn’t how he always did. Maybe he was a bit shorter, a bit impatient, a bit dismissive, a bit frustrated, a bit cold.

The crisis had been weighing heavy on him since he first found out about it all those years ago, but when it was suddenly surging forward and threatening to take what he loved most, it had threatened to crush him flat, and he had tried to adapt.

Perhaps he was the one that had changed.

He’s out of his office before Clorinde can say another word, a quick glance between them solidifying an agreement that she’d take his place while he was away, and then he’s on his way to the surface, cursing himself as he goes.

He knew he had been the cause of your sudden change, and he had mulled over it in his mind day after day as he tried to figure out why. To think that it was because you thought he could ever be with anyone else after you had given him your love—he was addicted to you and everything you had to offer, to the way you made him feel, to how you treated him so gently when all he had known was cruelty and hardship.

He’s at the Palais Mermonia in record timing, and he leaves a slew of startled Fontanian’s in his wake — the Duke of Meropide racing through the streets to bare himself at his wife’s feet, he’s sure he’s made quite the sight. Hopefully, Gods willing, the two of you can laugh at the newspaper in the morning while you lay in bed, together.

Wriothesley rarely makes trips to Neuvillette’s office, but he’s always been welcomed, and he’s grateful for that when he’s not stopped by one of the many Melusines stationed around.

As he nears the door he hears your voice, and the soft sound washes over him like a gentle wave; refreshing, dizzying, suffocating. The sound of your unmistakable cry is the complete opposite, and he bursts into the room, chest heaving as he looks to where you’re sitting in front of Neuvillette’s desk, your head lowered into your hands while he quietly watches you.

The door loudly knocks against the wall, the commotion causing a hush to fall over the room, and he waits with bated breath as you lift your head and turn to see the cause of the disturbance. Your eyes widen when you see him, lids puffy from your crying, lips parting and hands tightening around the armrests of your chair.

“Wrio,” you call his name, softly, tenderly, and he calls yours doubly so. “What are you doing here?” It feels as if it takes an eternity for him to cross the room, when in reality it probably only took a few seconds at best, and he turns your chair around so you’re facing him, the legs scraping against the floor as he does. “Wriothesley?”

“I’ll leave the two of you alone to speak.” Neuvillette’s exit is swift, the door shutting behind him softly, and Wriothesley moves his hands to cup your face as he lowers himself down to his knees, thumbs wiping away the last few tears. You lean into his touch, your own hands tightly clasped together in your lap, and he catches your eyes, wishing that he could tear himself open and show you the way you’ve etched yourself into his heart.

“Wrio—” He moves his thumb so it’s covering your lips, the digit gently stroking the slightly chapped skin there. He gives you a gentle smile as he looks up at you.

“You’ve been doubting me.” Your eyes widen before you drop them to your lap. “That’s why you’ve been acting so unsure. I thought… I thought you had finally grown tired of me.” That look of bewilderment, much like the one he had when Clorinde first revealed your feelings to him, flashes through your eyes as you look at him. “That you finally realized that I could never give you what you truly deserved; everything.”

“Wriothesley,” you try, and he quietly hushes you, a lump building up in his throat that he has to fight hard to swallow down.

“I didn’t do a good enough job showing you just how much you affect me; mind, body and soul. There’s no other that could over compare, that could ever touch me in the way that you have. You are my beginning and my end, the only woman I ever have, and ever will, love.” His fingers are wet with your tears. “You own me completely — you don’t have to ever worry about my attention drifting elsewhere, and I apologize for ever making you think that it ever could.”

His words are spoken with the utmost sincerity, voice raw and unfiltered, and he prays that his love for you bleeds into his words, prays that you can grasp the full extent of how much he cares for you, adores you, utterly worships you as if you were a Goddess yourself.

Your voice cracks as you call his name, eyes once again filled with tears, and he leans forward to kiss your eyelids. “I love you,” the declaration makes his heart soar. “I love you so much. I’m sorry for thinking—”

His lips push against yours, chapped and bitten raw from days of worrying, and yours are in no better condition. He pulls away just to plant another kiss at the corner of your mouth, breath puffing against your face as he nose rubs against yours, foreheads pressed together and eyes locked onto one another’s.

“You don’t need to apologize for your feelings. Ever.” He kisses you again, this one more frenzied and heated than the last, and the both of you only part when your need for air outweighs the need to stay connected. “Gods, you just don’t know how much I’ve missed you — can I show you?”

His hand glides down to the slope of your neck, over the curve of your shoulder, down your shoulder to gently squeeze at your hand, and settles on your hip, fingers sinking into the flesh through your clothing.

“Show me?” You breathily ask, and he smiles against your skin, eyes muddled and heated as he hums. “Show me what?”

“Show you how this body of mine belongs to you and you only.”

“…show me.”

~

Wriothesley couldn’t help but be a bit selfish first.

The both of your clothes have been discarded somewhere in the office, and he’s laid you back against the blue, plush couch, his hands keeping your thighs up and out of the way as he’s got his mouth latched onto your cunt.

He can’t recall how long he’s been between your legs; kissing, licking, sucking, slurping, but he knows he’s pulled two orgasms out of you, your slick coating his face, even dripping off his chin in long, stretched out lines as he tries to get more.

His hands tighten on you as he wraps his lips around your twitching clit and suckles, hazy eyes blinking open to travel up your body. He starts at the pudge of stomach that’s littered with his marks, then up to your heaving breasts that’re decorated as well, nipples puffy and swollen from the treatment he had given them earlier, further is your lips, spit-shined from his fervent kissing, and finally is your eyes, which gaze down at him as you cry out.

A molten heat swirls in his gut as he drags his tongue down through your folds, letting it seek out your clenching hole before pushing inside with a dizzying squelch, nose nuzzled up against your clit as he fucks his tongue into you.

You squirm and twist in his hold, hands trembling as they push at his head, and Wriothesley detaches himself from your pussy with great difficulty, eyebrows furrowed as he greedily licks at his lips. “Is it too much for you?” You weakly nod, eyes tiredly blinking, and he kisses at the inside of your thigh before letting it rest on his shoulder to free up his hand, pointer and ring finger moving to part your folds while his middle taps at your clit.

“Wrioooo,” you drag out, and he practically coos at the sound, his eyes flickering between your face and your cunt.

“I know, love, I know.” Your hole clenches, the pretty sight of your clear slick pooling nearly hypnotizing him. He allows his thumb to sink into you, a deep, guttural groan being forced out as you wrap around him and suck him in just as greedily as he had done to you.

He places a chaste kiss to your clit, once then twice, and gives it a slow drag of his tongue as he forces himself to move up your body, lips leaving a trail of your slick and his spit until he can lock his lips with yours.

His cock hangs heavy between his thighs, the tan, uncut tip wet with pre-cum. He aches, terribly, and when your hand slithers down between the two of you, soft fingers wrapping around him and guiding him into your heat, he nearly howls in bliss and finishes all over your clit and folds - nearly.

His eyes roll as he sinks in, heart hammering against his chest as shivers wrack up and down his body. He grips onto the back of the couch, the expensive wood splintering under his grip, and grits your name out through clenched teeth. You’re warm, soft, perfect, salvation, and he basks in it, hips pushing forward until he’s nestled deep inside, cock snug inside your welcoming walls.

Once he’s staved off his end for just a bit longer, he adjusts his stance, one foot raising up to brace on the couch while the other stays on the floor. He kisses you, soft and sweet, an unspoken question in his eyes, ever-present, and you answer him with a hushed ‘yes, I do’.

His hips pull back so only the tip remains, and then he’s surging forward, cock punching a choked moan out of your throat, your hands flying to grasp onto his sweaty shoulders. “There you go, hold onto me, baby.” That’s the last intelligible sentence he gets out before he loses himself in the feel of you, mind deteriorating down to nothing but his most primal needs; the need to drive his cock into you until he physically can’t go on any longer, until your cunt is gaped and overflowing with his seed, until the both of you are spent, until you’ve drained him of everything he has to offer, until you know —and Gods he hopes you’ll know— that he’s yours.

Mind, body and soul.

Completely, wholly, and undoubtedly yours.

Forever and always.

[emo-batboy]

Things Battinson Totally Did During His First Year of University

Using Unhinged or Odd Things I Also Did as a College Freshman :D

Note: for this list, let’s believe Bruce was living in an (admittedly expensive and swanky) dorm because it is required for first-years, especially those entering at a young age, and Alfred told him he needed to make friends. Also yes I did every single thing on this list. I never claimed to be a role model

Bruce, to his TA: I’m so sorry I’m late to class. I gave blood a few hours ago and almost fainted on the way here, but it won’t happen again.

Signs up for a class called “Age of Dinosaurs” despite it not being required whatsoever and proceeds to work his entire schedule around it

Bruce: Your mental health is super important. If you think you should see the on-campus therapist, go see them. Friend: Fine. I’ll sign up for therapy if you sign up for therapy too. Bruce: Hold on-

Finds a loophole in his housing contract that allows him to get a pet frog, calls him kermit :)

Gets a second frog because Kermit was lonely, names it Constantine after Muppets Most Wanted, then realizes that they’re gay for each other. Wonders if the rainbow-colored rocks he got them triggered anything

Swings dramatically between calling Alfred every single day and ghosting him for weeks, cries when he realizes what he did

“Accidentally” joins the student body council, doesn’t know what he’s doing, gets re-elected anyway

Molds a dragon out of Laffy Taffy instead of doing his work

Bruce: *joins Honors, gets all A’s, takes the max amount of classes, has several minors, overachieves* Also Bruce: I’m a failure.

Breaks into a building after hours to study because NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AT THE LIBRARY

Bruce: I will not get seasonal depression this year. Bruce: *gets real and seasonal depression that year*

Meticulously schedules his day with a color-coded planner because if he sits down for too long, the thoughts will consume him

Gives a presentation to his rhetoric class on how much he likes Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse (it is 20 minutes long)

Successfully allocates funding from the student body council to pay for free feminine products in the dorms OUT OF SPITE because someone said it couldn't be done. fuck you, Andrew

Bruce: It is not an all-nighter if I go to sleep before my first class. Friend: It is 7:30am, the sun is in the sky, and your first class is at 12:30. Bruce: But I am getting sleep.

Refuses to go anywhere without his backpack because what if he needs three notebooks at once

Loses over 20 pounds because ✨stress✨ and scares the shit out of Alfred when he comes home for Thanksgiving

Argues with his TA over the one (1) question he got wrong on his Dinosaur exam

Bruce, calling Alfred: Hello father figure. How do I do taxes? Do I have to do them myself? Also, I think I’m having a panic attack.

Joins in on a charity arts-and-crafts project that gives kids books with matching activities made by volunteers, proceeds to commandeer the project because “it’s not color-blind friendly” and rewrites the instructions for everyone

Makes a murder wall

Goes to one (1) sports game and proceeds to leave in the first ten minutes because it’s way too loud wtf is wrong with people

Professor, addressing the lecture hall: I dare you to write an essay about these two sentences. Bruce: *writes an essay about six words, gets a 100, never even read the book*

Crawls into the ceiling for some alone time

Ghosts someone after a date because he’s too scared to tell them he didn’t know it was a date in the first place and now he feels bad

Classmate: How tf does he walk across campus that fast? I go in the same direction he does on my bike, and he’s always ahead of me. Bruce: *is gay sprinting to Dinosaur class*

Refuses to let others use his Favorite Pen TM

Constantly gets mistaken for a Grad Student because he is “so wise and mature” (bestie, that’s the autism)

Alfred: *casually mentions he got into a car accident through text* Bruce: *replies with a meme while hyperventilating because he doesn’t know what to do with that information??!*

Wears a suit to one of his finals

Regularly eats non-organic food for the first time in his life, proceeds to learn about several allergies Alfred forgot to mention he has

Writes “What is a Hot Pocket?” in calligraphy and proceeds to laugh his ass off alone in his dorm because he is so exhausted he’s reached the point of delusion

Locks himself out of his dorm right before class, frantically asks the floor group chat if someone can help, proceeds to tell the nice gay man on the floor who saved him “I love you” because his social skills have hit rock bottom

Makes a little music album display next to his desk for his favorite band (Nirvana) His friends call it a shrine, and they are technically correct

Has a blacklist of people he refuses to interact with because Reasons

Counselor: What do you want to do when you graduate? Bruce: *gestures vaguely*

Refuses to take the bus because there are people in there and he doesn’t like those

Loses one of his frogs, how tf did he do that, they’re fully aquatic, oh fuck, this is probably why they got rid of that loophole a year later because unbeknownst to Bruce, he accidentally started a frog revolution in the dorms, btw he SWEARS he did not mean to do that

Has two trash cans in his room: one for the Good Garbage, and one for the Bad Garbage. Only Bruce knows which is which

Bruce: *writes a creative piece about a ship’s final thoughts as it sinks, bringing its passengers down with it* TA: Absolutely lovely, Bruce, but are you okay?

Goes on Night Walks, keeps himself safe by maintaining a level 12 resting bitch face at all times

Earns the nickname “8th floor cryptid” after pacing the halls at 3am when it’s too cold for Night Walks (honestly tho how tf didn’t he get the nickname earlier?)

Bruce: Do you think a depressed person could do this? Bruce: *has a manic episode*

Okay that's all love you BYE

[cythena]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ CLOSER

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ " i just can't leave you alone "

synopsis . . . choso is so infatuated with the shy girl from his forensics class. his hobbies outside of school make it so easy to get to know more about her but he just wants to get closer to her.

warnings . . . college au, ghostface!choso, reader is very sick in the head, dubcon, dark content, reader has longish hair but the texture can be in whatever way you want, breeding, slapping, hair pulling, bdsm (not with reader), choking, breaking n entering, stalking, porn, choso is a huge creep, voyeurism

notes . . . 2.7k words, 10 minute read, a little longer than usual. this is not not sum light but iykyk. so proceed with caution if you're concerned.

his eyes are attached to every movement you make. it could be anything. you clicked your pen, your head slightly tilting to the left, your sigh after glancing at the clock. he noticed it all. he loved it. it was the way he passed his time at 10 in the morning. unfortunately, this was the only avaliable time for this class but fortunately for choso, it was the same time you picked.

you were a dream; pouty lips and doe eyes fit your soft face. then he could drag his eyes down to your chest, admire your waist, and fantasize about your hips. he had an hour of time with you, albeit a table away from you, but still. for an hour, he memorized every feature he could to save later for his sketchbook.

he would arrive early just to see you walk in, and sometimes you would walk past his seat. on those days, he would catch a whiff of your delicate perfume. it was sweet vanilla, soft. you'd think it would fit you. you looked very sweet, with your hair styled with bows and a large collection of skirts. your voice rose in pitch whenever your existence was acknowledged by others.

but choso's seen you. he's really seen you — in such a raw state that no one had the faintest clue about it. you're very forgetful, leaving your curtains open like you wanted him to watch. you were such a tease. your room was true to your aesthetic. he watched you open up your sanrio decorated laptop and settle into your lush bed. from his angle, he could see the screen with you.

you leaned against your pillows as your fingertips moved naturally to a website. the sight excited him to the core and he started spinning his various rings around his fingers. he wasn't dumb, he knew you would get lonely. but he wasn't sure what site you were on. nevertheless, he was so interested in what softcore video caught your eye. you weren't into the dirty stuff. you liked it clean, amateur for sure.

to his surprise, your video was nothing of the sort. a masked man pulled on the bare girl's chain. her skin was red and dripping. a grin spread across her lips as the huge man slapped his cock on her face. your hand was already between your legs. your pajama top had the first few buttons popped open while your other hand palmed your tit.

choso's cock hardened at the view. your lips parted as you played with yourself. he was eager to join you, but he stopped himself — forced himself to burn the moment into his memory. the priceless sight needed to stay with him forever.

the woman and the video was tossed onto the bed. the camera propped in front of her face but a majority of the man was visible. his upper body towered over her as a large hand left bright marks onto her ass. her face contorted in pleasure. choso wondered how your face really looked now. he wanted to hear your sounds.

your thighs clenched together around your hand. your shoulders caved in and your entire body shook. choso's breath quickened. the man in the video wrapped his hand around her neck. he yanked her against his chest while keeping her pinned by the waist.

you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth while your eyes shut. chills racked through choso's spine. he wasn't sure he blinked until you were settled in your bed again and your laptop was shut. his hand clutched the neck of his shirt, now feeling warmer than before.

he took a moment to gather himself. his legs felt like jelly. he sank down to the grass outside your window but stared at your windowsill. the small window of light shining on the grass suddenly snapped off. you finally shut the curtains and he knew it was time to go. standing up, he felt an odd warm feeling in his pants.

looking down, he could barely see the faint glistening on his dark pants.

"fuck..."

that was months ago. over time, he's felt closer to you. you've shared so many intimate moments together, unknowingly. in his mind, you've consummated your love on numerous occasions. but it still wasn't enough. he wanted to really touch you.

he wanted to kiss you and caress your hips. in the same thought, he imagined his knuckles rubbing against your scalp as he pulled your hair back. he knew you would love that. your dirty searches told him many secrets. they helped him collect so much information about you.

there were a few attributes those videos shared. they were nasty, dirty, spit and cum covered those girls entirely. those girls were treated like a personal pets to serve those men. but the one that was in every single video, no matter the genre...those men were always masked.

even the nights you decided to take a softer route, the man's identity was unknown. it seemed you had a strong taste for the mystery. he's never seen you take a second glance at any video with a man's face.

he was so proud to know this about you. he watched you walk past him every day and all he could think about was how you would feel if he was the man and you were his to use. you'd be a toy he could never get tired of. he's felt a cord attach the two of you ever since. it was made of the secrets you shared.

the videos started getting more intense, more bloody and brutal, and your orgasms became harsher. this video had the man forcing himself into the unsuspecting girl's room. the man covered her mouth to stop what choso assumed were her loud moans.

choso watched your heaving chest. you're such a sick freak, he thought but he wondered...if watching it made you cum so hard, then would experiencing it be even better? an unknown and unexpected man having his way with you. he cock ached with the desire to climb through your window and test your theory.

you were much earlier today, choso had barely arrived and settled in to wait for you when you walked in. he was sliding his rings on his fingers again when he heard your footsteps. you looked so adorable. you wore a white tank top with a cute bow decorating your cleavage and a brown skirt. you were so effortlessly pretty in his eyes.

your perfume was different today too. you must've run out of your vanilla pearl. he loved the scent so much he went a bought a bottle to remind him of you. he'd spray it on his shirts every night. this new scent was fresh, floral. it was so light and refreshing. the charming mixture of flowers was irresistible. it lingered around him.

"excuse me, choso, would it be alright if i moved to sit with you? i'm sorry, i just wanted to see better."

you nervously tugged on the strap of your bag. your index and thumb toyed with the cat pin on it. the smile forced itself onto his face. he hoped it wasn't scaring you. there was no stopping the joy of hearing you say his name.

"yeah, that's alright." he even pulled the chair out for you to sit with him. the table had enough space for the both of you yet he scooted it a little closer to his side.

minutes of silence passed. choso had decided to entertain himself with your his sketchbook. it was his but the only thing he could bring himself to draw was you. it didn't look like that at first glance but it was you. he could draw you from his pure memory. there was you sleeping, playing in makeup, changing. one of you sitting in class caught your eye. you admired the faceless drawing.

"you're really good."

choso stopped, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. he even tried to cover some of the drawing with his palm. he could see part of your smile from the corner of his eye.

"thank you...do you wanna see more?" he offered, feeling his nerves tingling.

now you scooted closer to him. your shoulder pressed against his now. he slid the sketchbook over to the middle of you. his mind wandered and he could no longer completely focus on giving you a tour of his drawings — not when your tits were so close to him. he could ever see a little of your bra peeking out in a gap.

your nail ended up pointing to the one of you changing shirts. it was the one time you faced the window. he remembered you didn't even bother to put on a shirt again that night.

"this is the same girl, isn't it? why don't you draw her face?" you asked.

"she's too pretty, i'd never be able to do her justice."

your eyes widened, for a second you wished he was saying it about you. still, it was romantic. oh. it also meant choso had a girlfriend.

"she must be beautiful then."

you were so clueless to his affections if one could even call them that. you stared at him with what looked like stars in your eyes. he couldn't bring himself to look any further. instead, he pulled the sketchbook closer to himself and smiled at your portraits.

"incredibly."

every time choso set up outside of your bedroom window was more exhilarating than the last. it was his favorite part of the evening. it was your time together. tonight he would be doing you a favor. he felt significantly better about it knowing you'd appreciate it. he knew you better than anyone and tonight he'd proof it.

he wanted to get to you before you were ready for bed. you were in the shower for twenty minutes so when you grabbed your towel and left the room, he pushed open the window. he was careful not to dirty your clean floor as he tiptoed towards your door. he stood and waited for the water to stop running.

choso's heart raced, blood and adrenaline pumping a thousand times faster. his fingers twitched at the touch of sinking into your flesh, especially the clean skin after your shower. he ran his fingers over the textured metal and pressed against them. he was finally going to make you his even if you didn't know it was him.

time couldn't have gone by any faster. the water shut off and within minutes your footsteps came padding down the hall. he adjusted his mask in your mirror, the white ghost mask identical to the man's in the videos.

the door opened and his hand smacked over your mouth. he shoved your back to his chest and pinned you against him. he held you close, inhaling this new strawberry scent of your soap. his hand caressed the side of your hip.

"calm down," his chilling voice demanded. your breathing slowed and he relaxed as well. you stared at your reflection. this form towered over you. the towel you clutched to your chest began slipping out of your grasp.

choso steadily removed his hand from your mouth, ready to clasp it again if needed. "good girl, you can be a good girl for me. yeah, get on the bed." he patted your side and let you walk towards your bed. he stalked behind you. you turned around to face him with teary eyes. he tucked your chin between his thumb and index.

he moved your hands away from the towel and let it pool around your hips now. your soft breast filled his palm nicely. he felt like such a virgin looking at your body. it's like even when he's so close you can't help but be a little tease.

"spread, now."

you were so obedient. you followed every command like a well trained puppy. he kneeled between your spread legs, shifting the towel completely off of your thighs. your body was everything he ever dreamed of and more. he wanted a taste but this stupid mask was in his way.

he hovered over you, trapping you between him and the wall. you slapped your hand over your mouth when he snatched your neck. the mesh couldn't hide the beautiful panic on your face. your breathing quickened. he forced you to look into the droopy eyes of the mask while he unzipped his pants.

what he really wanted to do was kiss you. then, he wanted to hear his name. next time.

he didn't give you a warning when he shoved two fingers into your cunt. you squealed against your own palm — the most heavenly noise he's ever heard and it was his doing. you were at his mercy. the cold metal sent chills through your walls. he twisted and curled his fingers inside of you, pulling you closer to your finish.

he squeezed your neck enough to make your eyes cross and you go dizzy. a smile planted on your lips behind your hand. your walls contracted around his fingers and stayed tight.

he admired the strings of slick between his fingers. he needed it. he was so desperate to taste you. so he slipped his fingers underneath his mask and into his mouth where he sucked every last intoxicating drop. it seemed everything about you was sweet except that fucked up head of yours.

he yanked your legs around his waist, lining your hole up perfectly with his hard cock. the tip swept against your clit. your sensitive body reacted to every touch. he wanted you to beg for him to do something. he didn't care what it was just, beg.

he planted his hands on your waist. you clawed at his forearms while writhing. "please," you whimpered. "please, sir, i wanna feel you."

"my dirty girl." taking your breath away, he buried himself into your hole. you were so full of him it felt impossible. he gathered your wrists in one hand while slamming his cock into you.

drool dripped out the corner of your mouth stuffed with choso's thumb. you loved grabbing onto nothing and digging your nails into your own palm. you sank your teeth into your quivering bottom lip. choso laid a slap on your cheek and you moaned.

"oh! please! f-feels so good!" you gasped. moans continued to interrupt any word you could think to say. you just gave up trying to speak. he kept reminding himself that next time you'll be crying his name.

the need to feel you tighten around his cock powered him. he frantically drove himself into your hole working towards that blissful release for both of you.

he forced you further into the mattress by the neck. it was like his strength tripled when with you. it was like he was fucking a message into you. a message he wouldn't leave until he knew it was engraved in your mind.

"you're all fucking mine. all mine. say it."

"aha! yes!" you grinned. "i'm all yours!"

he dropped your bruised hands and you gripped his shoulders. your eyes crossed and rolled back into your head. your body convulsed as you tried to steady yourself with his shoulders. you felt your legs go weak and slip from his waist.

he flipped you over to your knees, his thick hands grabbed onto your waist while pushing you into the bed. it was pure instinct at this point. he brought his hand deep into the strands of your hair. using this, he made you squeal when he yanked your head back. tears fell from your doe eyes.

every signal in body told him he needed to fill you and he wasn't going to stop until he did. he let out a heavy growl with his head throw back as his cum spilled into you. he stayed inside you, forcing his seed to stay inside you.

"thank you," you breathed. choso rubbed your bruised hips and other darker spots littered across your body. he inhaled your scent again before pushing himself off of you. he watched you roll onto your side and close your eyes.

the next school day, you took your seat next to choso. you bounced into class with a bright smile. today your perfume was new. it was a sweet strawberry scent that filled his nose. he is cheeks heated up, remembering your smell that night.

"good morning choso," you smiled as you began unpacking your bag.

"good morning y/n."

choso shut his sketchbook and spread his palm over it. something you dropped clattered on the desk. looking back down, he saw one of his rings spinning around. he swept it up and slid it back on his finger.

"i knew it looked familiar but i think there was one more. could you come get it tonight?"

of course you knew. you shared every sick fantasy with him. "i'll be there tonight."

— © cythena 2024. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.

[blissfullyapillow]

₊˚⊹You being a complete degenerate around your boyfriend and very vulgar, but he loves it (he’ll never admit it though)

₊˚⊹fem reader

₊˚⊹wc: 4,764~

₊˚⊹Characters: Dan Heng (+ Imbibitor Lunae), Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Welt, Kaeya

₊˚⊹Warnings: NSFW MDNI, virgin reader (Welt), lots of teasing, thigh riding, cockwarming, two dicks (Zhongli), reader receiving oral, reader is referred to as wife (Kaeya)

₊˚⊹Pillow Talks: Inspired by the many horny Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae & Neuvillette fics I’ve been reading

๋࣭ ⭑Masterlist 

Dan Heng ♡

༺♡༻

•You were bad enough when he was just another human to you, but when you discovered Imbibitor Lunae?

•The things you said to him would make even the most suave individual flustered

•He likes it though. Even though he pretends to be unbothered.

“Dan Heng, please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears as he continues to browse through the data bank.

“Silence. I will indulge your.. desires, once I have found what I’m searching for.” His grumbled reply fails to deter you.

“What you need to be searching for is my clit instead of-“ The rest of your sentence is cut off by a hand.

Your eyes glance up from his hand to his face, and his eyes glance every which way except in your direction.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop being so vulgar?” He sounds exasperated, annoyed even, yet he slowly pulls his hand away from your mouth knowing you’ll continue.

A smirk lifts your lips as you lean into him, pressing your soft chest against his firm one. You hear the breath he sucks in as his hands find purchase on your hips.

“Don’t you think about me Dan Heng? In the same way I think about you?” Your seductive words elict a pained groan from him, but he remains unmoving in his stance.

"Of course I do. I think about you ceaselessly.” Dan Heng’s husky voice is rapt with desire, and you to rub your thighs together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension. You can already feel how wet your panties are, but you want Dan Heng to be the one to make that discovery.

“Then let’s-“ “Not until I update the data bank. I stopped partway through the last time you distracted me, and I still need to update the data bank with our recent discoveries from our last endeavor.”

Alright, he’s still not budging, but you can tell you’re starting to have an effect on him.

Let’s try a different approach.

“If I masturbate right now, will that get you in the mood?” Your eyes shine with delight when his blue orbs finally land on you, and you can see the barely concealed passion within his gaze.

“Or do you want to fuck me in front of a mirror? We can watch as I slowly sink down on your cock and I ride you nice and slow, just how you like it. Remember the last time I did that? You made the prettiest sounds for me Dan Heng~ Oh, and I know you like it when my nails scratch your back. I promise I’ll leave more marks this time….” As you speak, your hand trails along his arm, squeezing his bicep as your lidded eyes remain locked with his.

His stoic facade cracks slightly, his lips quirking upwards before it quickly returns to its neutral position.

Ah, but you finally feel something poking at you.

Progress.

“Hm? It seems like you like that idea.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders now, and slide your leg in between his.

He grunts, allowing you to do so.

Now your entire body is all but draped across Dan Heng, and you slowly rub your thigh up and down his clothed erection.

His eyes fall shut and a quiet moan escapes his pretty lips.

“Hmm? What was that sweetheart? I couldn’t hear you properly.” You whisper the words against the shell of his ear, teasing him, and you relish the way his hips rut against your thigh.

“I—…data….update….”The few words he manages to mutter come out broken and borderline incoherent.

“Hm?”

You have him right where you want him.

You suddenly remove yourself from him, and proceed to straighten yourself out. You struggle to conceal your smile as you adjust your clothes.

When you look up at Dan Heng, you’re met by a beautiful sight. He’s a bit confused, panting, and his entire face is flushed along with his ears. His erection is entirely evident, and a wet spot can be seen on his pants.

“I understand. You need to update the data bank right? I’ll leave you to it. Sorry for bothering you.” You send him a faux look of remorse as you turn around, ready to leave.

You only manage to take two steps away before you feel his arms roughly pull you back.

He all but slams you against the wall as his lips effortlessly slot against yours. You’re almost embarrassed by how loud your moan is.

This time, his leg is the one to slot between yours. His tongue wastes no time in bypassing your lips to explore your wet cavern, and his leg between your thighs are soon replaced by his hips.

He ruts his clothed arousal over you, and your body shivers at the delicious friction against your cunt.

Dan Heng pulls away momentarily, and desperate gasps leave him as he catches his breath.

You smile a victorious little grin at him. Your ears don’t miss the low growl he emits. “kiss me again, but- mphh!" He doesn’t let you finish your thought.

You soon find yourself on top of his futon, with his body hovering over yours.

"Lay down for me love, and let me do you how you deserve.”

Oh.

༺♡༻

Imbibitor Lunae ⋆˙⟡♡

“I wonder how many times you can make me cum with just your tail alone?” Your words cause him to stutter, and his flushed face meets your serious expression.

You’re currently situated on his lap, your hands permanently clued to his horns.

Why did he hide this form from you??

He looks gorgeous as the Dan Heng you know and love, but Imbibitor Lunae??

…

You’re one lucky girl.

He coughs, looking away from you. His fingers find the hem of your shirt, and they fumble with the material as your fingers firmly rub the base of his horns.

In lieu of a response, he chokes out a groan, as his body trembles in pleasure under you.

“That feels good. Keep going.” Even though his words aren’t inherently sexual, they cause your face to flush with warmth. You oblige his request, and your fingers lightly graze along the tips of his horns.

This time you feel more than hear the rumbling in his chest. He quickly buries his head into the crook of your neck, and you feel his canines brush along the skin there.

You whimper his name as your hands fall from his horns.

He doesn’t like that.

He growls, and his tail quickly manifests itself to wrap around your torso, holding you firmly in place.

“Did I say you can stop?” His voice is commanding. It’s a stark contrast from his usual sweetness, but it turns you on nonetheless.

“No.” Your response is simple and matter of fact, yet you make no move to resume your previous ministrations on his horns.

You jump when his hips suddenly buck against yours, and he uses the tip of his tail to slip past your undergarments.

A sharp gasp leaves you when you feel his tail brush along your folds, slick with arousal.

“You’re this wet for me already? I’ve hardly touched you, yet.” Dan Heng mocks you with a cocky smirk on his lips.

Instead of slipping his tail past your folds he pulls it back. He removes your clothes with inhuman speed, and his clothes soon fall into the same pile with yours.

His tail wraps around one of your legs, spreading you open for him.

He wastes no time in dipping his head between your legs, and licking a long stripe up your folds to your clit.

You moan his name, and your hands cling to his horns to ground yourself.

He growls. "I want you to be louder, my love." And his tongue works in earnest to give you the mind numbing pleasure you deserve.

༺♡༻

Alhaitham ⋆｡˚

•This man is having none of it, yet he subtlety encourages your behavior. In his own little way.

•On the off chance you catch him off guard you’ll get a cute, surprised little sound out of him

•Most of the time though, he doesn’t care. If he’s in the mood, he’ll indulge you. If not, he’ll just let you talk as he continues to do his own thing. He’ll still listen though, and put your ideas into action when he’s feeling more up to it.

“Don’t you have something else you need to be doing? Surely there are other ways to productively spend your free time.” Alhaitham clicks his tongue as his hand flips a page of his book.

You’ve been pestering him during said leisure time, poking at him, touching him, and you even invited yourself to sit on his lap.

He let you, yet he hasn’t looked up from the pages of his book.

Thankfully for you, he chose to wrap his strong arms around you as he continued to read.

“I don’t have something else I need to be doing, but I have someone I could be doing right now.”

You swear you see his lips quirk into a little grin, but the sight is gone as soon as it appeared.

“Is sitting on my lap not enough for you? I’m clearly occupied with important matters right now.” Alhaitham does not humor you, and his eyes scour the words on the page before his hand flips it over once more.

“Well I don’t particularly mind just sitting on your lap.. but why don’t we make things interesting? You can keep reading your book, and I can get what I want out of it too. It’s a win-win situation.” You propose your idea.

Alhaitham finally looks up from his book, a knowing glint in his eyes, but he humors you anyway.

“And what might that be?”

You smirk.

“What do you say to having my warm hole comfortably wrapped around your dick as you read? I promise I won’t move… well, no promises-but-!” “Go ahead.”

You’re almost surprised at how quickly he agrees and how nonchalant he sounds about it, but you’re not going to deny yourself.

That’s how you find yourself cockwarming Alhaitham as he continues to read. One of his hands firmly rests against your lower back, drawing soothing circles onto the skin.

You groan when you feel the way his dick jumps inside of you when you squirm.

“I thought you said you’d stay still?” Alhaitham teases you. “I did say no promises!” “But I agreed to do this on the condition that you’d be silent, correct?” You don’t have a retort to that since he’s right.

Alhaitham decided, once you were fully seated on his lap with his dick inside of you, that he would only continue to indulge you if you remained silent.

Then he proceeded to bounce his leg at random intervals and change position as he read, even though he wasn’t doing any of those things before you started cockwarming him.

“You’re a jerk. You know that?”

His smug grin shows you he damn well knows that already.

"Staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?" Alhaitham chuckles, choosing to ignore your statement.

"Make me shut up then."

Oh, now that got his attention.

He shuts his book abruptly, and all of his attention turns to focus on you.

"You're wearing way too many clothes for what I have in mind." His says this matter of factly, and his fingers now toy with the hem of your clothes.

“Then take them off me.” You retort.

“You’ll have to get off my lap for me to do so, and I believe that’s not an option you’re willing to explore right now.”

Damn. He’s right.

“If I get off your lap can I cum on your face?” He rolls his eyes at your bold proposal.

“Only if you sit on my face. Not hover, sit.” His voice is huskier now, and his hand on your lower back pulls you closer to him.

“So you’ll fuck me with your tongue then? And I’ll get to see your lips slick with my cum?” Your words are sultry, and all too tempting for Alhaitham.

This time he audibly groans, and his dick jumps once again inside of you.

You squeeze him in reply.

That action alone is enough for Alhaitham’s lips to seek yours, and his tongue leaves no area inside your mouth unexplored.

When you begin to move your hips against his, he nibbles your lower lip in warning before his hands rest on your hips to hold you still.

You pull away with a pout, and he shakes his head at you in scolding.

“Not until you sit on my face. I need to taste you.”

…

Well, at least he isn’t reading his book anymore

༺♡༻

Neuvillette 𓆩♡𓆪

•Your words will either fluster him or you’ll get zero reaction. There’s no in between.

•Depending on what you say he’s either really soft and sweet or very demanding and rough. Whatever you’re both in the mood for honestly.

"I miss you in between my legs" You whisper against his ear.

He coughs and chokes a bit on the beverage he was drinking.

You gently pat his back, and he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I can spread myself nice and pretty for you sweetheart. Would you like that?” Your lips brush against his sensitive ear, and you press a lingering kiss right below it.

You adore the pink hue on his cheeks, along with the tight grip he has on the small cup in his hand.

“If you want we can start slow? I can just use your thighs, I can cum without you touching me. Can I get a reward if I do? Please?” You pathetically beg Neuvillette to ride his thigh, and your mouth begins to trail sloppy kisses down his neck.

He’s speechless, and frankly a bit turned on.

He refuses to respond right away as he contemplates your words.

“My love..” He starts. You perk up, temporarily stopping your onslaught of kisses. “Yes?” With that one word, uttered breathlessly, you manage to sound needy, desperate, and horny; you can’t bring yourself to care.

"Your wish is my command." His statement is followed by the gentle grip of his hands on your sides. He leisurely guides you onto his lap.

Once you’re positioned comfortably on one of his thighs, he spreads them a bit.

You glance down between his thighs, licking your lips as you fantasize about the beautiful dick you’ve had the honor of seeing many times now.

Neuvillette notices your intense gaze. He uses his fingers to gently lift your chin to look into his eyes. “You won’t get what you want unless you work for it. Be a good girl and pleasure yourself on my thigh.” A shiver runs down your spine from Neuvellite’s light praise, and you immediately get to work.

Your hands anchor themselves to his shoulders, and you start to move.

Neuvillette’s hands on your waist stops you, and your expression is now one of confusion.

“How do you expect to feel me properly through this bothersome fabric?” Neuvillette tsks. His hands slowly move up your body, stopping on your chest to give it a playful squeeze.

Your breath hitches and your hips move on his thigh in response.

“You need to strip first, so you can feel everything I have to offer you.” His words are hot, and they only make you more excited.

His iron grip on your person prevents you from getting off on his thigh, so you carefully strip as he watches you with lidded eyes.

You manage to remove all your articles of clothing, and you maneuver your legs to slide your panties off of you.

Before you can toss them to the side, Neuvillette grabs your panties from you and stuffs them away. “I’ll be keeping that. Now, show me what you can do my pretty girl.” He commands. His hands begin to wander as you begin humping his thigh in earnest.

A salacious moan leaves your lips as the fabric of his clothes create delightful friction against your clit. Your hips increase their pace, and you make sure to voice how much you’re enjoying this.

Your ears pick up Neuvellite’s groan, and he leans into you. You gasp, your hands clutching his shoulders, as his tongue runs along your now hardened nipple.

His mouth closes around the bud, and you feel the delightful flick of his tongue on your nipple once more.

He makes sure to show the other the same amount of attention with his fingers.

Pleasure racks your body at Neuvillette’s ministrations. A sound of surprise leaves you when Neuvillette bounces his thigh a bit, and you feel the muscles there tighten.

Neuvillette pulls away from your nipple to lovingly gaze at your expression of pleasure. “You make the prettiest sounds for me, Angel.” Then his mouth is on your other nipple.

He has to equally show both of them just how much he loves them, after all.

༺♡༻

Zhongli ‎♡‧₊˚

•It surprised him at first but he quickly grew used to it

•He finds it fun at times, and may even indulge you a bit

•other times, you test his patience in the best way that you know he loves

“I know it slaps your thigh when you walk.” He whips his head around to gap at you.

Honestly this is normal when it comes to you, yet you still manage to catch him off guard from time to time.

Zhongli’s chuckle is low, and full of warning.

“My dear, do you really think you should be telling me this while we’re out in public? What if someone overhears you..” He gracefully moves closer to you as the both of you continue your journey home.

“I don’t mind.” You reply, as if his concern was your embarrassment and not the prospect of people hearing such lewd comments come from that pretty mouth of yours.

He sighs as he places your hand in his, but he makes no further comment.

“What are you going to do if I don’t stop? Punish me?” The way you ask him is much too eager for his liking.

“I’m not sure if you can handle another one of my punishments again so soon. Do you recall how you couldn’t walk for hours after your last punishment?” Zhongli’s words are firm, yet there’s a dangerous edge to them.

If you push it, you’ll get what you want.

So, you purposely pretend to ‘bump into him’ as you walk side by side, and you topple over onto him. He stops, helping to hold you up before you can fall to the ground.

He sounds a bit panicked as he asks “Are you okay dear? Do you need my assist…” The rest of the word dies in his throat when you place your hand on his crotch, using it as ‘leverage’ to lift yourself up.

You have the audacity to squeeze the area before you let go, straightening yourself once more.

To the public eye, you appear apologetic and overly remorseful as you apologize to your lover for “toppling over so suddenly.”

When you meet his gaze, his irises are stormy and his grip on your hand is tight.

Oh, he’s pissed.

“It is alright darling. Let us get you inside so I can make sure you are okay.” Zhongli sounds polite and even concerned as he quickly ushers you the rest of the short distance home, but you can read between the lines.

He’s going to ruin you.

As soon as the door to your shared abode is gently closed shut, and locked, your body is roughly slammed against the door.

Zhongli’s mouth is on yours and you barely have time to catch your breath. His hands begin to disrobe you, and you moan in his mouth as you kiss.

When he moves away his teeth gently pulls on your bottom lip, and it sends you into a frenzy.

“Do you always have to go out of your way to be too much for me to handle? It drives me crazy.” Zhongli growls the words against the shell of your ear.

You grin as your arms wrap around him, pulling him against you. “I try always to be too much for you." Your cheeky little grin only makes his gaze darken further, and that’s when you know you won’t be able to walk once he’s finished with you.

“By the way…” He whispers, his hands rest on your inner thigh as he waits to finish his statement.

“They do slap my thigh when I walk.”

༺♡༻

Welt ₊˚⊹♡⸝⸝

•Unruffled. Seriously. You can say the most lewd thing you can think of and at most he’ll send a small smile your way.

•More than happy to indulge you on whatever desires you have, he’s okay with experimenting.

•If you happen to catch him off guard with your words, you’ll catch the rare sight of a flustered Welt

“I’ve been wondering what it feels like to be stuffed to brim with someone’s cum. Could you enlighten me?” Your question is loud and clear, with no hesitation in your voice.

Welt slowly turns to face you, staring long and hard at you.

“I certainly could.. enlighten you on that matter, but are you sure this is something you really want?” Welt’s words are kind in nature, and he moves to sit beside you on his bed.

You’ve been in a relationship with Welt for a long time now, and he’s grown quite used to your.. expressive nature.

Even so, you’ve never actually partook in that activity with anyone before. Welt knew that, so although your words were very vulgar, and very true, he insisted that you two wait until you were sure you were ready.

Out of all the times Welt has offered to take care of you, you feel complete confidence that you’re ready to accept his offer now.

“I’m sure.” Your voice is self assured and full of confidence. Welt chuckles, and his hand moves to rest on your thigh. He doesn’t move it, but the weight of his hand is enough to soothe what little nerves you had.

“Alright then. Show me how you do it when you touch yourself. We can take it from there.”

Oh. Uh..

He looks at you, and he can only sigh. Your face says it all.

“You’ve never even touched yourself?” His words aren’t harsh nor reprimanding. If anything, he’s a bit surprised.

“I’ve just.. never had the urge to..?” You phrase it more like a question, but there’s truth in your words.

Welt says nothing as he moves to hover over you. You lie down on your back and look up at Welt. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was completely unbothered by everything, if not for the slight pinkness to his cheeks.

“We’ll start slow then. Can I touch you?” At your approval, Welt wastes no time in connecting your lips.

He starts slow, and soon you two build up to a heated make out session. Now, Welt’s hand slowly rubs up and down your thigh.

He waits until your tense muscles relax under his touch, and that’s when he slowly moves his hand towards your inner thigh.

He cautiously runs two of his fingers up your folds, still covered by the fabric of your clothes. You shiver and mewl, squeezing your legs together.

Welt’s hands firmly grasp your legs to spread them apart. His lips leave yours to speak to you.

“Now now, how am I supposed to make you feel good if you hide yourself? Let me help you out of this..” Welt strips you, with your watchful gaze on him the entire time, and soon you lay before him in only your bra and panties.

He strips himself down to his boxers so you don’t feel so uncomfortable being exposed.

He runs his fingers over your folds once more, and this time he can feel just how soaked your panties are.

Something akin to a grunt leaves him, and his fingers slowly remove your panties.

“You’re so wet just from making out. It makes me want to ruin you.”

His words make you clench around nothing.

Welt lowers himself to be situated in front of your now exposed cunt, and he lifts your legs to rest on his shoulders.

Your heart beats faster in your chest, and almost as if Welt senses this, he glances at you.

“No need to worry. I got you.” His words soothe something inside of you, but his tongue ignites a burning flame within you as it skillfully gathers up your slick arousal.

You cover your mouth with your hand, the feeling surprisingly pleasant.

“Does this feel good?” Welt’s words are a bit muffled as he talks while eating you out, and the vibrations of his voice makes your toes curl and your head fall back.

“Y-Yeah..” You moan.

You’re sure if you could see his face, you’d see a smile right now.

“Good. I’ll take care of you, just relax.”

And take care of you he did. Thoroughly.

༺♡༻

Kaeya ⋆˙⟡♡

•Honestly it’s hard to fluster this man with lewd words alone.

•If anything, it slowly turns into “try not to get flustered by Kaeya” as he becomes very handsy and equally, if not more, vulgar than you.

•He loves it when you talk to him like that though. Nothing turns him on more than you knowing what you want, and making sure he knows it too.

"Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me." Kaeya’s sultry whisper isn’t enough to make you heed his command.

He’s currently pressed against you, and you’re trapped underneath him on your shared bed. “Oh, how tragic. My adorable wife won’t even spare a glance in my direction. Whatever shall I do?” You’re not falling for Kaeya’s faux sadness.

You can feel just how excited this situation makes him.

Said excitement rubs along your inner thigh, and you can feel the tip rub along your folds.

“Stop teasing and just put it in already.” You whine. If your eyes were open you’d see a wicked grin on his face.

“Now sweetheart, weren’t you the one who said you wanted me to.. hmm.. what was it again? ‘I want you to breed me full of your cum.’ ‘Don’t stop until I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.’ ‘Don’t bother teasing me back this time, use that smooth tongue of yours for something else.’ Were those not your exact words? Am I remembering things incorrectly, my lovely wife?” Kaeya’s smooth voice repeats your lewd words right back at you, against the shell of your ear.

His mouth occupies itself with nibbling on your earlobe before it moves to your neck. As he begins to harshly suck on the area, you know he’ll only continue until he finally gets what he wants out of you. So, you slowly open your eyes.

Almost as if he senses it, he finishes giving you a wonderful bruise on your neck before he pulls back to look at you.

“There’s my pretty girl.” His words are followed by the swift action of him stuffing you full with his cock.

Your moan is so loud he chuckles, and his hands trace circles along the skin of your hip.

He doesn’t move though. He stays completely still.

“I want to hear you beg.” He demands.

Your eyes take in his serious expression, and you know he’ll have no problem staying like this with you the whole night; He won’t move unless you do what he’s asked of you.

“I.. Kaeya..” You mutter softly, hesitant to beg.

“Hmm? What did my sweet little angel say? You’ll have to speak louder, so your doting husband can satisfy your needs. I can’t do that unless I know what those needs are though, right?”

Oh, this little shit.

“Kaeya, please stuff me full of your cum! Don’t stop until it’s leaking out, and even then keep giving me your seed. I need you Kaeya. You’re the only one who can satisfy me. Only you. Please..” Kaeya’s gaze darkens when your beautiful whines reach his ears, and he shifts a bit to better position himself.

“Arch your back for me.” Is all he says.

So you do, and thus begins a night full of love making.

He made good on your request and stuffed you full of his cum, and he made sure your hole didn’t let a single drop escape.

[haykawas]

✩•̩̩͙*˚ UNREQUITED ROUTE

this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here! You've chosen to proceed with our favorite long haired beauty! You love to hurt yourself, don't you? Enjoy <3 – wc : 4.4k

It’s Suguru.

You don’t acknowledge his presence, and instead just try to quicken your pace so you can get home faster. It’s a good thing you live so close to his house, because it’s freezing and you’re only wearing a shirt.

You’re fumbling with the keys of your apartment, your hands trembling when you hear him clearing his throat a few steps down. You can clearly imagine the expression that would be etched on his face if you were to turn around and take a look at him.

Annoyance, impatience, confusion even. And he would be right to feel that way.

The click of the lock echoes in the dead of night, and you immediately try to shut the door to block out everything. 

But Suguru’s foot shoots out, wedging between the door and the frame and preventing it from closing completely.

“Are you going to hear me out, now? Or do I need to blow down your door?” He asks with a slight frown.

“What more is there to say? It looked pretty clear to me.”

“So running out was the best option to you? At least hear him out.”

“Why are you always so optimistic? He doesn’t like me, Sugu’, end of story! Can you leave me now so I can go cry in my bed, or is it too much to ask?” You exclaim, and the look in his eyes tells you he won’t be letting this go anytime soon.

“Alright, fine, I give up. Do whatever you want.” You let out a frustrated groan, releasing the door so he can get inside. He closes the door behind him and follows you to your room, but you act as if he isn’t there.

“I think you should get back.”

You press your lips in a thin line, ignoring him even as he keeps following you like your shadow.

Irritated, you finally turn back to face him, a mix of frustration and anguish on your face. “You know what I think? That he would be there if he cared like you said, but is he?” You ask, voice laced with the weight of disappointment and hurt. “Why are you here when he’s not, Suguru?”

You feel like you know the answer before you’ve even asked the question. And he knows you do too. Yet you refuse to open your eyes and see what’s been in front of you the whole time.

“Because I care about you!” He blurts out. “I care, alright? Even if you have a hard time believing it.” His words hang in the air, and you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a bit at his admission.

“I know you do.” You reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Because you do know. When Suguru cares, he cares deeply. You always felt like he constantly tried to protect you from whatever came your way, and the realization makes your chest tighten.

“Now that’s the thing, I don’t really think you do.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “God, sometimes I just…” He trails off, the hesitance shining in his eyes reflecting the vulnerability of what he’s trying to tell you. 

“I just wish you looked at me the same way you look at him.” He breathes out.

And you don’t know if it’s the way he looks at you that prompts this reaction out of you, or something else entirely, but you can suddenly feel the need to get closer, to feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the scent of his perfume.

You’re torn, you don’t know what to say to him nor do you really know what he’s trying to tell you. – Yet you do.

And as his stray locks brush against your shoulder, making your skin tickle, a strange sense of intimacy unfurls between you.

You both know it’s wrong. So why are you leaning forward, wondering what his lips would taste like against yours?

Yet Suguru moves away before it can happen, and he takes a few steps back. You can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We can’t do this.” He says, just like you knew he would. He’s right, and you know that. Yet you want payback, you want to hurt Satoru as much as he’s hurt you all this time. It’s stupid, and petty. You don’t care.

You scoff. “Oh, we can’t now?”

“I can’t do this to Satoru.” To you. 

Your laugh is bitter, “Ah, Satoru. Well, considering what just happened, I think he’ll be fine.”

He whispers your name, pleading, almost begging, and your heart clenches at the sound. “You’re upset, it wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t feel right.” He adds, but he’s lying through his teeth, — Anything would always feel right if it was with you.

You turn your head toward Suguru, locking eyes with him, “You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You lick your lips, and Suguru’s eyes can’t help but flicker up and down at the motion, before swiftly looking away, almost in shame. “Make you say what?”

“That I want you, Suguru.” You plead, “I need you.” His gaze flicks back to yours, and you can feel his hesitance. It’s thick like butter, but so is the tension between you. So you step forward, slowly as to not startle him, because you’re scared he’ll disappear if you aren’t careful enough. You add, your voice a little raw, “Please.”

It’s the last straw. 

Something breaks inside of him. 

Because he has you there before him, telling him you crave him, practically begging for him to do something about it. And Suguru tries, he desperately does. He tries so hard to hold back, because you’re in love with his best friend, and he’s practically sure Satoru might also have a thing for you — although he’s been pretty shitty at showing it. 

But you’re there. You’re real, and you’re so, so close. You’re looking up at him with lidded eyes, and you’re so beautiful he feels himself blush. 

He knows that if he starts this, and does as much as lift a finger, he won’t be able to stop. And you know that, because eyes don’t lie. You see the little restraint he had falter and crumble, like a card castle in the wind. 

The way he looks at you is unhinged, almost primal, and it’s making you dizzy. It’s like he’s peering inside of you, probing at every corner of your soul and seeing the deepest parts of you, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

He’s the Apex predator, and you’re prey.

It’s dangerous. You can’t get enough of it.

“Yeah?” He says, and the way his voice drops down an octave makes your heart quake. “You want me?”

Yeah. Your lips part to answer his plea, but your breath catches in your throat when you see him walk up the rest of the distance to you, his deft fingers rising to his ponytail to yank out his hair tie, freeing his long hair. It cascades down his back, and you feel it tickle the side of your neck when his mouth finally meets yours. He swallows the words you want to say, sucks them out of you with the swipe of his tongue and the bite of his teeth. You gasp in surprise, your fingers trembling as they instantly find him, and you harshly tug on his shirt to pull him closer. 

And oh, how his lips are sweet. They taste like honey and sugar, so exquisite you feel yourself drown in the depths of him. His distinctive scent of rose and sandalwood invades your senses and you drink him in like a parched traveler.

If someone had told you this would happen, that you would be here, kissing Suguru Geto of all people, you would have just laughed in their faces. He’s always been your best friend, one unlike Satoru was to you. While Suguru was more like earth — calm and grounding, warmhearted and dependable, Satoru was like ice — impulsive and passionate, carefree and unpredictable. While Satoru was like an adventure, Suguru felt more like home.

You’ve always seen him as nothing more than one of your best friends, your brother from another mother, but now?

Now he’s undoubtedly there, holding you, kissing your lips with so much hunger you feel like you might fall apart under him. 

“Make me forget, please.” That’s all you can say when you finally part, out of breath, your chest heaving heavily. 

It’s all in the eyes. It’s always been this way with Suguru, and you’ve learned to read him like an open book with time. It’s there, hiding behind his chocolate hues, this bundle of emotions he’s been suppressing for so long that is now threatening to crack, break, and spill out all over the place without restraint.

And it is raw.

He wants to eat you alive. And if this is the way he simply looks at you, you can’t help wondering what he’s even thinking about you. 

His gaze is like a drug. It is so needy, so desperate you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. It is undeniably making you shy despite your eagerness, but it feels so good. 

You feel seen.

Even though he might seem in control to the foreign eye, that’s not quite the case. Suguru’s eager and greedy, he’s kissing you like a starving man, but his body cannot lie. Not to you. 

Never to you.

It shows in the way he complies and obeys your every whim like it’s easier to do so than it is breathing. In the way he shivers when you do so much as rap your nails against his back, and kiss your way down to his neck.

You are in charge, and he lets you be. He likes it that way.

He lets himself fall on the mattress, pulling you down with him and gripping your thighs as you settle down on his lap. His breath hitches in his throat and he has to hold you in place before your squirming causes an unwanted accident.

The sounds he makes prompt a smile out of you, and you take a moment to detail him. He’s sprawled on the bed, his long black hair spread on the sheets and framing his face so beautifully.

His plump lips are slightly parted, and his naked chest slowly rises and falls to the rhythm of his breathing. And under the moonlight, you swear he looks like an angel.

But you don’t need an angel now. You need your best friend to rise, grab your neck and  ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶  – fuck you senseless. So you go for it. You lean down and reach out to grip his collar, and he has to prop himself up on one elbow to keep up with you.

“Will you, Suguru?” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he swoons, “Make me forget?”

His face is a few inches away from yours, his hair disheveled as he looks up at you through his eyelashes — he is so close they tickle you when he blinks.

“Anything.” He whispers tenderly, as if breaking character for a moment, “Anything for you.”

And he means it. Although you can’t possibly know that, Suguru has always been yours, and he’ll always be as long as you’ll have him. But you’ve always been Satoru’s.

He’s long accepted that fact.

Your hand moves to rest against his cheek, while the other desperately fists the fabric of his shirt to bring him even closer. He’s still looking up at you, your position giving you the advantage, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Kiss me again — like you mean it.” He implores and you comply. You do not have it in you to deny him when he looks so desperate for you. He immediately angles his head so you can kiss him better, and the scrape of your teeth against his bottom lip prompts a groan out of him.

The way you make him feel drives him insane, and he’s utterly ashamed of the amount of power you hold over him without even being aware of it. Suguru feels like a virgin all over again, with the way the simple brush of your fingers makes his heart jump, and his body shiver. He’s daydreamed about this moment for so long to the point it almost feels natural to be with you like this, and he’s afraid it might be his mind playing tricks on him. It’s selfish, but it feels so good. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He feels alive. He’s never experienced anything like it, and it scares him. 

But you know nothing of his inner turmoil, and while he’s focused on the way his heart soars, you’re more focused on the sensations and the pleasure it’s bringing you. On the way you can feel your mind slowly ease as he keeps worshipping your body.

You don’t care that you’re using each other. You want him, and he wants you. It doesn’t matter that you still have Satoru on your mind when it’s his friend, your other best friend, who is under you. It doesn’t matter to Suguru either, because it’s him with you, him that is making you gasp and squirm under his touch. 

It is enough for him – he has never thought he would get there with you in the first place. 

Your hands are busy as you fumble with the last buttons of his shirt, having just discarded yours on the floor, and Suguru can see how eager you are.

“Fuck,” He swears, but his voice remains soft as he gazes at you, detailing your almost naked form. His eyes find yours again, and they’re sparkling with an emotion you don’t seem to recognize. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He smiles at the way you turn your head, breaking eye contact with an impish smile. You’re flustered.

How cute.

And this moment is perfect. It’s perfect and yet, he has to ask. Before you go further and completely free him from his pants, your hands making quick work of his belt, he has to know that you’re as sure about this as he is. 

He doesn’t think he could bear seeing the regret on your face come morning. The disappointment in your eyes when you would wake up, only to find him and not his friend in your bed. 

It would destroy him. It would destroy you, and everything in between.

So as difficult as it is, he halts you with a finger on your lips when you lean in for another kiss. 

He asks, “Are you sure you want this?” 

It is innocent and full of good intentions – and you know it is in the way he strokes your cheek with care, his eyes giving you his undivided attention. 

Yet you’re stupid and frustrated, and your heart aches so badly you just need someone to make it stop. So you can’t help but scoff, and say, “It’s like you want me to crawl back to him.”

The look he gives you makes you want to crawl into a hole, and you immediately want to take it back. 

Because if there is one thing Suguru doesn’t want, it is seeing you desperatly running after his best friend the day after you’ve shared all of this. After he got to taste your lips and map out the curves of your body.

Gone are the caring gaze and the gentle touch – his eyes darken considerably, the hand that has been caressing the skin of your thigh ever so softly tightens around it, and it’s sure to leave imprints by the time you two are done. You can tell by the way the muscles of his jaw clench that he is pissed. Your heart thuds in your ears.

You are not used to this version of your best friend.

You can’t say you dislike it.

You wince at the way he says your name. Slowly, voice soft as it always is. Yet it’s different this time. It’s fueled with new emotions – frustration, annoyance, jealousy. 

And oh, it looks so good on him, you can’t help but smirk.

That is your second mistake.

“Do you think it’s a game?”

Your smile falters, and you can’t seem to hold eye contact. Your cheeks flame, body tensing with apprehension. You lick your lips, wanting to answer honestly, but your brain feels too full of static for any sense to come out of you.

What isn’t a game? You think, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your brain gives out and abandons you, like it sensed a predator too strong for him to defeat.

You feel chills run down your spine. A mad Suguru is an uncharted territory, that is undeniable, as he’s always been the reasonable one of your little trio of friends.

Suguru grabs your jaw so he can look you in the eyes, and growls, “Look at me.” There’s something like a warning in his tone, and you hate the fact that you absolutely love it. 

He just stares at you, and you want to squirm. Your cheeks are hot, and he can definitely feel your excitement. It’s seeping through your underwear, and it’s obvious you feel self-conscious about it in the way you try to squeeze your thighs together, worried he might uncover your secret. 

You seem to forget he knows you by heart.

“You want to forget? I’ll make you forget everything.” He pulls you further into his lap, and  the hand cradling your thigh slightly tightens, while the other one reaches into your hair. 

“I’ll make you forget his name.” He kisses you, hard and deep as the hand on your thigh rises ever so slightly to rub circles on the sensitive flesh. 

“The color of his eyes.” He nips at your skin, tentatively licking and sucking on your neck, just below your jaw, and you can’t help but whimper. Your head instinctively lulls to the side to grant him access—  And you can’t think, you don’t need to when he’s willing to do it for you. He knows what you’re thinking, what you want. What you like.

After all, you’re best friends. And best friends know best.

He would take all of your pain away, if you would just trust him.

“The sound of his voice.”

The pressure of his hand leaves imprints, all of which make their presence known the minute he pulls back. You whine at the loss, wanting to grab his hand and drag it back, but he’s got something else in mind.

Your voice is lost as he steals your breath, his words still ringing through your mind as he slowly moves down, kissing your throat, your collarbones, your chest.

You arch your back. It feels good, but this isn’t enough. Greed possesses you, clouds your mind entirely and makes you want everything all at once. His movements are slow but deliberate, and you quickly realize what he’s doing. You want more, you want him everywhere, and he’s making you wait for it.

He is teasing you. He is torturing you for having the audacity of bringing up the man you’re in love with in a moment so intimate, so pure. For making him ache for you when he knows your heart will never beat for him the same way it does for Satoru.

You can’t blame him. It doesn’t mean you can’t retaliate, though. In a surge of confidence, your eyes snap open, and you fist his hair with one hand to pull his mouth back to yours, hard. You decide he won’t get to mess with you, play you like an instrument, as you start grinding on him. And it’s hard, it’s throbbing beneath you, unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

Suguru doesn’t let your game last, though. He grabs you by the waist, lifting you to throw you on the mattress. Your back arches as you fall on the sheets, and he swiftly gets ahold of your wrists to pin them above your head. You gasp as he climbs over you, and your eyes meet his only to find him grinning at you.

He’s enjoying this way too much, it seems. You want to wipe that smirk off his face. – But you cannot deny his smile warms your heart.

His hand runs over your ribs, your thighs, until it stops at your lower belly. It is clear he is taking his sweet time, and although he doesn’t say a word, his silence speaks volumes. His eyes speak to you, telling you to beg. Ordering you to.

You do. You give in, pleading for him to touch you, to give you a taste of him like nothing else he’s ever gifted you with. 

Satoru’s always said that Suguru’s love language was physical touch, and you’ve never believed that. That’s when you change your mind.

In one swift motion, his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, and he enters you with one, then two broad fingers. You are impossibly drenched. So much that they slip easily, so quickly you can’t help but let out a strangled cry at the sensation.

You whimper against his shoulder, and you wish you could just reach out and grab onto him. Instead, you strain against his grip, hips desperately bucking against his hand. 

Everything becomes about Suguru. About his smell, his touch, his voice.

His voice is but a murmur, it is saccharine when he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, “Did you forget already? The way your heart beats faster when he’s in the room?” He rhythms his questions with quick thrusts, curling his digits so that they hit your sensitive spot. Your arousal pools over his palm, and the sound of your squelching makes him even harder.

“I’ll ruin you until he’s nothing more than a fleeting memory.” He growls, and the sound has you mewling and clenching your thighs.

That’s when you feel it rise inside of you. It rises and spills out, and suddenly he’s all you can think about.

You’re drowning in your essence, coloring the sheets a shade darker and it is all because of him. He releases your arms and lifts you easily, pulling you on his lap once again.

Finally.

Your legs slide up, clinging to his waist as he shrugs down the last piece of clothing that still separates the two of you. It springs out, free, hard, and pulsing, and your mouth waters at the sight.

It is burning hot, pink, and throbbing and you’ve never noticed how beautiful your best friend was until now.

You bite your lower lip, eyes wandering over his face. You nod into his chest when he silently asks you if it’s okay, and of course he does. He’s always been so gentle.

Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, fisting his hair when he finally lines up with your entrance and fills you full of him, and your teeth bite his shoulder at the intrusion. It is sure to leave a mark, – he wants it to. 

He’s burning his way inside of you, marking you up from the inside, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this full. He pulls you taunt against him, hauling you up by your thighs and thrusting hard and slow like he’s disciplining you. He holds eye contact, of course he does, and although his movements may be harsh, his eyes… His eyes are so gentle, so full of…. 

No.

You mentally laugh at yourself. You’re dreaming, he could never… 

You cry out a moan when he hits the spot, and processes to abuse it repeatedly. He takes you like you’ve never been before, it feels so… Different. The fact it is Suguru you’re sleeping with makes all the difference. Everyone knows how close the two of you are, how complementary, and even Satoru keeps saying how you two are so much alike. You used to think he was exaggerating.

You’re not so sure he was, with the way Suguru seems to know what you need before you even formulate the thought.

Yet he’s always known. He knows what you like and dislike, what you want and don’t want.

He knows which expressions you make when you’re happy, sad. When you’re excited.

And now, he even knows what you look like when you’re close. Your lips are parted, your eyes a little glassy, and with the way you clench around him he has to do mental sports to not burst inside you.

You’re driving him insane. 

And while you’re bouncing on him, his hand starts rubbing at your clit, the combination turning you into a blabbering mess. It’s all too much. Your foreheads are pressed together, your hand still buried into Suguru’s hair and you close your eyes when your whimpers turn into full-blown wails. He pulls you into a deep kiss and swallows your moans as you burst.

He feels it coming too, and you see it. You nod at him, giving him your okay to come within you, to paint you with the white of his release and the red of his bleeding heart.

Yet he objects and pulls out before it happens. You’re confused, he sees that, – but you’re still in a daze. 

He won’t allow his feelings to take this away from you. Maybe someday, in another universe, he would allow himself to finish with you, to paint you with his colors like you did with yours.

Maybe on the day you’ll finally be his and his only, on the day he won’t have to be ashamed of feeling so strongly toward his best friend. This isn’t the day.

And when you go back to your senses, you can only see him looking at you with a smirk. It seems forced, a little sad even. But maybe it’s just your daze that is making you see things that aren’t there.

And just like that, he asks, “So, what color?”

“Hm?”

“What color are Satoru’s eyes, sweetheart?”

“I…I…” You try to pull yourself back to reality, but you cannot do it. You can’t seem to remember the color of your best friend’s eyes.

Suguru grins, and his voice sends a tingle down your spine when he says, “Good girl.”

Satoru Gojo 1 - Suguru Geto 1. Now, they are even.

So, are you happy to have ruined your chances with the love of your life? Or did you really?

secret route (coming soon!)

beautiful evil man with long hair save me

rbs are much appreciated <3

[digital-domain]

Outside

Mahito x Reader // Word Count ~6k

Synopsis: Sometimes, Mahito actually tries to make you happy. This latest attempt comes closer to the mark than any other. You missed being outside, and you feel just a little bit less trapped once you’re out beneath the night sky. For a few minutes, anyways. Before it all goes wrong. If only this stranger on the street was able to keep his mouth shut – and if only Mahito wasn’t there to hear him.

Content Warnings and Tags: Dark content. Noncon, forced relationship, kidnapped reader, extreme possessiveness, choking, hair pulling, dacryphillia, throat fucking, rough sex, discussion of drinking and depiction of drunkenness (not reader), catcalling, non-gory description of physical violence, discussion of past violence and killing, off-screen murder (also not reader but boy is it traumatizing for them). In summation: the dove is dead, do not eat it.

A/N: I - don't even know how I feel about this one. Sometimes a concept pops into your head and you just have to see it through. As always, proceed with caution <3

He wakes you up with a rough grip, shaking you until your eyes flutter open. It’s an unpleasant way to be ripped from sleep, but compared to some of the other ways he’s tried in the past weeks, it’s not so bad. His hands are on your shoulders, this time, and it’s only his hands touching you – it could be worse. Still, you feel the familiar curl of despair in your stomach, the familiar urge to turn away from the face that hovers over yours, to run away from it. But you don’t do so much as close your eyes. It’s not worth it. You know he’ll only pry them back open.

“You’re cute when you wake up.” He grins broadly, giggling at the sight of your eyes struggling to remain open. “You always look a little bit confused for a second. And your voice changes when you’re sleepy. It’s adorable.” When he leans down to kiss you, you accept it, lying still and parting your mouth to allow his tongue inside. Your eyelids feel heavy. There’s no view of the sky in this wretched sewer – you haven’t seen it since the day he dragged you down here – but you can tell that it’s still the depths of night, that you were asleep for a few hours at most. This isn’t unusual. You’ve learned that when he gets a new idea, he doesn’t like to wait.

His kiss is long, and slow. It drags the breath from your mouth until at last, after what feels like an eternity, he’s satisfied. Then, he pulls you to your feet, and holds you tight in his arms, face pressed down into your neck. “I have a surprise for you.” His voice is low, but shaking, barely containing his excitement.

You stiffen involuntarily, just enough that you’re sure he notices. You can’t help it. You think you’ve spent about three weeks here, although you can’t be entirely sure, and none of the several “surprises” he’s sprung on you in that time have been anything short of horrific.

“I’ve decided…” He pulls back, and grins into your face, still far too close for any sort of comfort, his breath falling oddly cold on your cheek. “That you deserve something extra special. You’ve been so much fun, and I want to do something nice for you. Like a reward. I thought about it for a while, and I think I came up with something good.” He tilts his head, sizing up your expression. “Ask me what it is.”

You don’t want to know. But you will, soon enough, no matter what. “What is it?”

“I’ve decided…that I’m going to let you go outside!”

Your brain churns, trying to make sense of what he’s said. “Outside?”

“Mhm! Aren’t you excited?” His smile falls as you stare blankly back at him. “You should be excited,” he says petulantly. “It’s a good surprise. Humans like a change of scenery, right? You like fresh air?”

“Yes, but”- Surely, he’s not offering you what you really want. To you, outside means freedom. And there’s nothing he wants to give you less than that.

“Oh. I get it.” He laughs, and shakes his head. “No. I’m not letting you go by yourself. I’ll be right beside you the whole time. Wouldn’t want you getting lost on your way back!”

Right. Lost. As if you wouldn’t run as fast as you could as soon as you made it to the mouth of the sewer. In any direction, to anywhere at all. If he ever gave you the chance, you would take it in an instant.

“I’ll hold your hand and everything.” As he says this, he interlocks his fingers with yours, and squeezes. “It’ll be very romantic. You’ll like it.”

His grip on your hand will be tight – even if it wasn’t, you know how quick he is, how powerful. As long as he’s beside you, you’ll never have a hope of escape. Still, as his surprises go, this is the best one so far. It’s a very low bar, to be fair, but still…

“Let’s go,” he insists, tugging at your arm.

 “Now?”

“Of course!” He laughs again, like you've said something absolutely ridiculous. “You really are cute when you wake up. You get confused…”

You pause for a beat, trying to smooth out the consternation on your face. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Mhm. And it’s nice out! Very quiet. The streets are almost all empty...no one around to get in the way of the view.”

“The streets are empty because it’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes.”

You look down at your clothes. They’re an odd ensemble, a blue, mid-thigh pleated skirt and a large black t-shirt he brought back yesterday from who-knows-where. Only the third change of clothes he’s given you in the weeks since he found you. Certainly a step up from the tattered, indecent remains of the dress you’d had on that first night, and even from the other ensembles he’s collected in the intervening time – but still not anything you’d choose to wear in public. It’s a small detail to get hung up on, but you’ve found yourself latching onto small details quite often in the past few weeks. If you think about the big picture for too long, you start to feel like your brain is going to break.

“You should be excited,” he says stubbornly. “But if you really don’t want to… I can find something else for us to do. I’ve got other ideas!”

There’s nothing threatening about the way he says it. It’s matter of fact, almost genial. But that doesn’t matter. You know that you don’t want to experience any of his backup plans – your imagination is already going into overdrive, picturing what he might have in store if you refuse his offer. “No. I…I want to go outside.” You realize, as you say it, that it’s true, and not only because your fear the alternatives. Still, your voice comes out small, and it shrinks even more as you force out your final sentence. “Thank you.”

“Aw. You’re very welcome.” He kisses you on the forehead, and starts leading you away. As you follow, slightly behind him, you rediscover another one of those small details you latch onto when everything is too much: the sewer itself is oddly warm, but the floor is always cold on your bare feet. It doesn’t make sense. Sometimes, such minute observations are comforting distractions, but right now, this particular one is only adding to your unease.

After a few begrudging steps, you manage to spit out: “I need shoes.”

“Oh…of course! You should have said something before.” He releases your hand and darts away, faster than humanly possible, returning to your side moments later with a pair of black high heels you recognize as your own. “You were wearing these with your dress the night I found you, remember? I decided to keep them.”

Of course you remember. You’d kicked them off inside your apartment, minutes before he’d shown up. Had he really stopped to pick them up when he’d carried you away? The details of that night are…well. Most of them are hazy. A few are painfully clear.

“I kept the dress, too,” he sighs, as he places the shoes in front of you. “It’s too bad you can’t wear it anymore. I still have it, just in case you change your mind.”

You step into the heels, and reluctantly take his hand, wobbling slightly as you follow him through the tunnel. “I was wearing it for days,” you say timidly. “It smells.”

“It smells like you.” In the periphery of your vision, you can see his head turn in your direction. You keep your eyes glued to the floor. “The longer you wore it, the more like you it smelled. It got stronger.” His nails scratch at the back of your hand, long and harsh against your dry skin. “I guess human scents linger for a while, because it still smells like you.”

You stay quiet, as you usually do. How are you supposed to respond to something like that? There was a time when you thought he said things like this to upset you. Now, though, you think he’s just frightfully honest. He doesn’t say things to provoke you – he says things because they appear in his head, and he has no qualms about letting you hear them. Does he know that they make you uncomfortable? He must – but clearly, he doesn’t mind.

For several minutes, you walk through twisted passages. Although you can still feel his eyes lapping at your face, at your body, at the hem of your skirt, he’s silent for once, giving you the gift of uninterrupted time in your own head. You wonder how long it’ll be before he feels inclined to get you a new bundle of clothes. A set of underwear, at least, would be nice. Maybe if you ask, he’ll do it. He does seem to like providing for you, even to take pride in it, although he certainly doesn’t know how to do it properly. When he presented your most recent outfit to you, he stared at you like he was expecting something more than numb acceptance. Like he was expecting you to jump for joy, or to thank him for giving you the dignity of wearing clothes that didn’t stink. These little moments – where he seems to truly believe he's being kind to you - have been happening frequently in the past week or so, and you’re not sure how you feel about it. On the one hand, it probably means that he’s getting even more attached to you. That doesn’t bode well for your future. Then again, your future was more or less wiped away the moment he discovered your existence. You might as well appreciate the little comforts you’re provided.

“Do you feel the air yet?” He smiles, much more gently than you’re accustomed to – inviting, rather than forcing you, to smile in return. “It’s changing.”

As soon as he points it out, you feel it. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel – a stir in the dense, cloying air that gives you a faint sense of comfort. As you move forward, that light becomes physical – he leads you up a ladder, briefly letting go of your hand to allow you to climb. You scrabble up towards the light, almost losing your shoes in the process. As you poke your head over the street line, you can’t help but feel free, just for a moment. When you look up, you can see the stars above you. There aren’t as many as you’d like – the city lights render all but the brightest invisible – but it’s something. Despite everything, you’re grateful for it.

“You like it! I can tell…I knew you would.” He smiles broadly, and grasps your wrist, pulling you onto the street above the sewer. The assistance is unnecessary – but under the circumstances, you don’t mind. You don’t flinch, as you usually do at his touch. He grabs your hand, and you walk along the street together in strange silence. He’s watching you intently, as always, but he’s not talking, and that’s enough. If you didn’t look, you could almost pretend that you were alone, staring out at the open city streets and up at the sky above. What time is it, exactly? 3? 4? One of those times where no one is awake except for you. When you were alone in your home - your real home - you used to cherish being awake at such times, cherish the strange, powerful sense of isolation. Even now, stumbling along the sidewalk with this demon at your side, you can’t help but cherish it again. At least you’re outside. At least you have the stars to keep you company, and not just him.

“Thank you.” When you say it this time, you mean it, although it’s not really directed at him. He’s barely there, in your mind. You’re thanking the night air, and the sky, and the empty, open streets for the strange comfort they provide. Only now do you realize how claustrophobic you’ve been for all this time. The dim light of the sewer, the imposing walls trapping you inside – those little oppressive details have been adding to your misery. Now that they’re gone…you still hate everything about your situation, but it’s easier for you to ignore it. Easier for you to pretend, for a moment, that everything is going to be okay.

“I knew you’d like it,” he repeats. You’re sure his eyes are glowing, that he’s got some version of his crazed smile splattered across his face, but you don’t have to look. There are so many better things to look at right now.

Just as you have this thought, a shadow emerges from the intersection in front of you, perhaps twenty paces away. Under the streetlights, the shadow takes the form of a man. He’s tall, maybe twenty years older than you, dressed simply in jeans and a grey t-shirt. And, as he gets closer, you see that he’s stumbling. He pauses to lean against a battered storefront, right beside the mouth of a shadowy alley. He’s swaying slightly, and you think you see his mouth moving, as if he’s muttering something under his breath.

“I’ve seen ones like him before!” Mahito’s hand tightens over yours, voice full of excitement, as he pulls you to a halt. “It’s almost always at night…and their breath always smells the same way.” His free hand comes out of nowhere to turn your face toward him. His eyes fix intently on yours, and his finger strokes gently over your mouth. “Your breath smelled a little like that, the night I found you, but it wasn’t nearly as strong as theirs. And you weren’t walking so strangely, either.”

You don’t ask why he was close enough to smell their breath. You already know. The horrors you’ve witnessed in the past weeks have been enough to bring you to tears – both out of pity for the bodies beneath him, and fear for your own.

“The things you humans do to yourselves…” He tugs your forward by your hand, and kisses you on the forehead, his fingers slipping into your hair. Even when he pulls back, he doesn’t let go. “You’re lucky you’re done with all that now. You can’t do anything to yourself…and no other humans can do anything to you, either. The only one who can do anything is me!”

Desperate to shake his gaze away, you cast your eyes upwards, but the expanse of the sky does nothing to dispel the claustrophobic dread churning in your stomach. Perhaps it was never about the sewer itself, after all.

He releases your hair and grips your hand tightly. “You can keep walking now. I want to get a closer look.”

You walk slightly behind him this time, your other hand clenched at your side. Usually, you’d worry about how strange you might look to passersby, holding onto what seems to be empty air, stumbling awkwardly as if pulled by some invisible force. But you doubt that the man before you will notice. You can see Mahito’s neck crane as the pair of you approach. As you draw even with the man you think he’s about to let go of your hand, and run up close for a better view.

But before that can happen, the man grins at you, his burnt-out eyes suddenly finding their focus. He doesn’t meet your gaze. In fact, he seems to look everywhere but your face, in the space of a few seconds. His mouth falls open. And the inevitable words tumble from his mouth, their edges blurred. “Hey…sweetheart. Whatcha doin all alone?”

Your stomach churns. If you were truly alone, at this time of night, this would be more than enough to set off every alarm in your head, to send you rushing down the street. But right now – right now, the fingernails tightening against the back of your hand are screaming for all of your attention.

“I didn’t like that.” You turn, giving into the sudden sense of dread that commands you to look. Mahito has never sounded like this before. He’s never looked like this either. There’s no hint of a smile, no glow in his eyes. “I didn’t like that.” You quickly realize what’s wrong with the picture: he’s serious. Not the inquisitive kind of serious – the deathly kind. He’s squeezing your hand tight enough to leave crescent moons in your skin. His eyes latch onto yours, clinging so tightly that you can’t bear to look away. You gasp as, in two places, the skin on the back of your hand gives way, sliced open by his viselike grip. To your surprise, he lets go at the sound of your voice. He holds his hand up to the side of your face, only glancing at the smudge of blood on his nails before capturing your gaze once more. “You’re…you’re not his sweetheart. You’re mine. He doesn’t get to say that. He can’t…” In the periphery of your vision, his hand is shaking.

You stumble as he turns you aside, nearly crashing onto the sidewalk beneath your feet, scrabbling for purchase on his arm. For once, he doesn’t try to catch you – he barely seems aware of your grasp on him at all. The man against the wall is staring blearily, deeply confused, no doubt, by the nothing that appears to be tossing you around.

Mahito’s hand finds the back of your shirt and drags you across the sidewalk, practically hurling you deep into the mouth of the alley beside the storefront. He disappears for a moment – not nearly long enough for you to process your new surroundings, never mind attempt to escape them. In the split-second it takes for your eyes to adjust to the looming walls on either side of you, the dustbins gathered in shadowed clumps along the alleyway, and the crumbled brick inexplicably lying at the edges, your view is interrupted by a flash of movement, unintelligible, faster even than the one that carried you here, followed by the sharp thud of a body on pavement And beneath that, a sickening sort of crack. You think you heard a similar sound or two in the moment before this violent flurry, but you're too frightened to process it entirely. Mahito stands before you, facing the dark, indistinct end of the passageway. Several yards in front of him lies a huddled mass, flung across the alley and into the pavement beneath with a force magnitudes greater than the one that carried you into these shadows. It whimpers in pain, face down, seemingly unable to move.

Your mouth falls open – but even if you could speak, what would you say? Would you tell him to stop? From the half of his face that you can see, you know this would be a futile effort.

When he hears the rasp of your breath, Mahito turns, slowly. One of his hands is in a fist at his side, the other still raised in the aftermath of a brutal throw. This hand slowly falls.

You’ve seen him kill before. Three times, in real life, and several times in the nightmares that have haunted you nearly every night since. What disturbed you most was the way he reveled in it, the grin that spread wider across his face with every movement, with every pitiful sound that echoed into the night, with every deafening spatter of indistinct human mass that forced you to your knees in terror. And his laughter – that was the most hideous sound of all. That’s the one you always hear in your dreams, the one that still echoes in your ears when you wake up.

But somehow, seeing him without that smile, standing in complete silence, is a thousand times more terrifying. You blink rapidly, trying to fend off the wave of tears you can feel building behind your eyes.

He takes a step towards you. Another. One more. It’s a narrow alley – three steps is all it takes to pin you against the brick wall that stretches up to the sky behind you. His hand rises to stroke along the side of your face, to brush over your trembling lips. “You shouldn’t be crying.” He’s far too calm, the pitch of his voice lower than what you’ve grown to expect. “You can’t cry. Not for him.” Here, his voices quivers, enough to remind you that under this strangely cold exterior, he’s just as volatile as ever.

To your horror, a stray tear escapes from between your lashes. As soon as he sees it, he swipes it away, the ragged edge of his nail dragging threateningly along your cheek. “Don’t.”

You would choke out an apology, if you thought you could speak without releasing the rest of the flood. Instead, you find yourself staring silently, helplessly, as his hand closes around your throat. “You’re the most pretty when you cry,” he sighs, soft voice contrasting horribly with the roughness of his grip. His face falls into your hair, and he inhales deeply, fingers tightening against the sides of your neck. “And you’re mine. When you’re this pretty – it has to be for me. Not for anyone else.”

How lovely it would be to look up and see the stars just one more time. To pretend that you were alone for one more moment. You’re suffocating, in all senses of the word, the combination of a lack of oxygen and pure terror sending a violent, vision-blurring rush to your head. The kind of rush that makes you feel like your mind is being violently expelled through the top of your skull, forced to watch helplessly as it floats over the hollow body it’s left behind.

He kisses you slowly, almost tenderly, staring desperately into your deadened eyes all the while. Starving for some response, even as he drains the air from your lungs. When it ends what seems like eons later, he at last drops his hand, and the pressure on your neck disappears. You gulp at the night air, eyelids flickering with the exhaustion and relief of your sudden release. You tilt your head back for another mighty inhale, but it’s cut short by cold hands sliding down your neck, onto your shoulders, guiding you gently but firmly to the ground.

For a moment, the only thing you let yourself process is the rough scrape of pavement on your knees. It’s not smooth. It’s not comfortable. But you can make it slightly better, because there’s a bit of rubble beneath your left knee, or perhaps a small stone - with all too much effort, you manage to shift the weight of your body, to move your hand and swipe the pebble away. The motion leaves you staring at the ground, eyes sweeping desperately for some other small bit of something to latch onto. You don’t want to look up, because you’re all too aware of what lies between you and the sky. It’s been watching you adjust your posture. Watching you make your futile attempts to stave it off.

Mahito slides two fingers just beneath the line of your jaw, and digs in until you have no choice but to raise your face. “You’re doing better. You’re doing good…I didn’t see any more tears. And when they do come back…they’ll be all for me. Soon. I'll know...I'll know that they're mine.”

You think you hear a sound from back in the alley, where his victim still lies alive, and motionless. But when you turn instinctively, he catches you, pressing his thumb firmly into the skin over your molars and scrapping you hard with nails beneath your jaw. “Don’t!” He practically yelps, and the high-pitched sound yanks your eyes all the way up to his face. “He – he wanted to take you.”

You took me. The thought comes to your mind, unbidden, not for the first time. It will never leave your mouth.

His eyes are wild, and his chest heaves, his face an overflowing blend of overwrought emotion, anger and confusion and urgency. “You’re mine. Mine.” He shoves his fingers into your hair, and grips hard, nails scratching mindlessly at your scalp. “No one else can have you. Ever.”

From your mouth comes a terrified whimper, not unlike the sound you heard from the shadows moments before. You follow it with words, and they come out nearly inaudible, caked in the phlegm of tears soon to come. “I want to go back.”

“We can’t.” For a tense, still-aired moment, his eyes fall closed. Without their vengeful glow, he looks more dejected than anything else. He takes a slow breath. You’ve never known whether he needed to breathe, or whether he did it for some sort of effect, but in the moment, it’s serving him, somehow. The hand loose at his side closes into a fist as he exhales, and when his eyes snap open, they’re brighter than ever. The confusion is gone, and the anger has retreated to the background – only a hauntingly familiar hunger remains. “We can’t go back. I'm not done yet.” His voice steadies, and he stares mercilessly, ravenously, into your captive gaze. “I need to - make it better. Make it right."

He yanks you forward. The tension on your scalp becomes painful as you fall gracelessly into his thigh, but he rights you, pulling you into his crotch and holding you steady. The fist at his side unclenches, and falls heavily, almost clumsily onto the back of your head, pressing you firmly into the outline of his cock.

He’s already hard. You’re hit with a nauseating wave of revulsion as you feel the stiffness beneath the cloth against your face, as he drags your lips over the length of his shaft. He holds you there, drawing out the moment, as if daring you to pull away. When you look up, there’s the ghost of a familiar smile on his face – enough to send your gaze plummeting down. His hands drop from your hair, and stretch, in their distorted, unnatural fashion, all the down way to your wrists, dragging them up his thighs before placing them on the waistband of his trousers.

There’s a moment where you do nothing, holding your hands utterly still, inches from his cock. As if your inaction might be enough for him to change his mind. He’s used these moments to toy with you before, letting you draw out your resistance, enjoying the anticipation, enjoying the anger and despair in your eyes. But he has no patience tonight. His hands fold over yours, pressing them down into his waistband, and a third arm juts out from his stomach, rending through the cloth of his shirt to grasp your face, squeezing your cheeks and prodding harshly at your jaw until your mouth is forced open.

His cock springs free, and you let out a choked sob. He’s experimented with many shapes and sizes, and tonight, it’s clearly designed to make you struggle. His third hand retracts back from whence it came, leaving nothing between you and your fate.

Both remaining hands depart from your wrists and land firmly on the back of your head. He tugs you forward, forcing the tip of his cock into your still-open mouth.

You make the mistake of allowing your eyes to flick upwards. And, for the first time since that fateful moment minutes ago, you see his grin spread over his face. “All mine,” he sighs, hands relaxing where they rest upon your scalp. “All mine.” He presses forward slowly, but firmly, easing himself into your mouth, savoring each scrape against your tongue, each time you’re forced to breathe through your nose. He doesn’t stop at the limit of your comfort – he never does. He presses past the edge of your throat, lodging himself inside you, until he’s nearly cut off your breath for the second time tonight. Your eyelids feel heavy, and your eyes themselves water uncontrollably, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Just when you think he’s too much for you to take, he pulls back. But he lets you enjoy your freedom for just a moment before thrusting deep into your throat, pressing his palms so roughly against your head that you know you have no chance of escape. You sputter uncontrollably, and narrow trails of drool escape from the sides of your mouth. Your entire body shudders, gasping for breath, for a break, for a way out. But your suffering, as usual, does nothing to slow him down. If anything, it spurs him on. He thrusts into you again, and again, gradually working himself up, speed increasing with every indecent noise that manages to escape from around his cock. Your survival instincts take over, and you desperately try to pull away, desperate for a single deep, clean breath; he pushes you down, his hands a hundred times stronger than the force your body can muster.

“So pretty.” He sighs – not with pleasure, but with relief. Like doing this to you has finally set his mind at ease. “You can cry now.”

You couldn't stop yourself if you wanted to - tears drip down your cheek as he pulls you in close. So close that you choke disgustingly loudly – so close that even if you dared to look up, you wouldn’t get a clear picture of his face. So close that you feel the bile churning in your stomach, threatening to give way. For several seconds, he keeps you here, staring down at you, crushing your every attempt to struggle.

There’s another whimper from the recesses of the alley – louder, this time - but your empathy seems to have disappeared. You only wish you had enough freedom of body and mind to make such a sound.

He thrusts once more, revels in the way you gag and balk at his size. When he frees you, several seconds later, yanking you back by the base of your hair, you feel no relief. You barely have time to take that one deep breath you’ve been craving before a sharp shove to your shoulders sends you crashing onto your back, knocking the air from your lungs. He drops to the ground and crawls on top of you, pinning you to the ground as his swelling cock drags up your thigh.

”You’re too pretty for humans…and feel too good...” The tip of his cock presses hard at the lips of your cunt, and you use the strength you have to squirm away – until your shoulders hit the wall behind you. “They don’t deserve to have you.” He drags you towards him, and you don’t resist, if only because you don’t want to know how it feels to have your skull slam against solid brick. Your lips, recently sealed shut, part once again as his cock forces you open. For as long as you can, you keep quiet, trying to deny him the satisfaction of hearing the reaction he can already see. But you can only hold out for so long. In real time – the earthly time separate from the years that pass in your mind – it’s barely seconds. He’s molded himself to stretch you open, to stretch you beyond your limits. And he knows those limits well enough not to fail.

His entire body seems to shudder with anticipation. "Come on. I know you can sound pretty, too. Don't hold it back."

You obey, a fresh thrust of his cock forcing a sob from your mouth. His growing smile warps into a full, overbearing grin, a grin that you don’t dare shut out by closing your eyes.

He fucks into you recklessly, sloppily, again and again, and his hand falls upon your neck once more, threatening to tighten to the point of no return. “See? It’s – it’s so nice when you cry for me.” He squeezes – whether it’s intentional or a sign of his failing control, you truly don’t know. “Isn’t it? Isn’t it nice?”

“Yes.” It’s a rasp, hissing out between sobs, and it’s the most painful lie you’ve ever told – but between his hand at your throat and his cock buried deep inside you, what choice do you have? Your mind floats fuzzily above your head once more, abandoning your body to hang on for dear life.

“Good.” He exhales blissfully, innocently, his pure, all-consuming pleasure at odds with the cries of pain and despair you hear emanate from your mouth. “I knew it…still like to hear you say it…”

He’s babbling – and, you realize, with a fresh wave of despair, so are you. “I can’t…please…”

“Soon.” His hand inexplicably releases your throat, and furls into the shadows, arm extending far longer than it should, to the point where you wouldn’t be able to see the tips of his fingers, even if you dared to look away from his face to watch them. “Almost…”

When you finally allow your eyes to close, he doesn’t notice – his head is already thrown back, and somewhere in the alley, yards away, his fist tightens. Hard.

The bile rises in your stomach all over again. For just a moment, you’re lucid enough to realize what he’s doing. And you can’t stop him.

He falls over you and gasps heavily in your ear. His cock pulses, and your eyes snap open against your will, mouth parting instinctually as you feel the all-too familiar shock of his release.

It aligns cleanly with a sickening splatter, exactly where his hand fell into the shadows.

“There.” He buries his face in your neck, and his arm retracts back into view. His hand, oddly slick, brushes up your forehead and through your hair. “All done. All better.” He doesn’t seem to notice the dry heaving of your breath, the uncontrollable shaking of your arms and legs. Or perhaps he does. Perhaps he’s enjoying it. Perhaps he thinks it’s a good thing. “A happy ending…you humans love those, don’t you?”

You’re beyond words. Lacking the strength to speak, the will to move. The only thing that’s working is your mind, and you wish it wasn’t. You wish it would abandon you again, instead of shoving its way back into your head. You don’t dare look back into the depths of the alley, but you know what you’d see if you did. Something transfigured, ruined, mangled – dead. It’s not your fault. It’s Mahito. All him, all him, all this suffering at his hands…and yet, you’re the only one who’s falling apart. Of the three who came into this alley, he’s the only one who hasn’t been destroyed.

“Don’t worry.” He raises his face, smiling gently into the ravages of your expression, carefully wiping a tear from your cheek. “We’re never gonna do this again. We’ll never hear anyone talk like that again." He laughs - laughs. "Not him...but not anyone else, either. I’ll keep you…I’ll keep you away from it all. Keep you all to myself.”

Your back is still pressed to the ground, skull resting uncomfortably upon the hard surface below you. There are still stars in the sky – just a few bright ones, strong enough to penetrate the city lights around you, but they blur before your eyes. Far away, they fade into nothing, pinpricks compared to the blinding glow of the manic gaze bearing down upon you.

Mahito rolls you onto your side, and you stare numbly into the street as he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Your arm is trapped beneath you, pressing harshly into the asphalt, but it doesn’t matter. You barely notice at all. All you can feel is him. All you can hear is his breath, unsettlingly even and quiet, and his occasional hums and sighs in your ear.  

You know this won’t last long. That once he decides he’s done, you’ll be dragged back to his home, perhaps never to emerge. It’s horrifying, but you’re too numb to feel that horror just yet. You can’t bring yourself to mourn for the outside, the world you’re about to be torn away from. Not yet. Not now. And perhaps not ever. Perhaps it’s best if you never see the stars again. Best for Mahito, best for you – and best for anyone who stumbles into your path.

[elfy-elf-imagines]

— Elven Instinct | Legolas Greenleaf *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Legolas x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff

▹ Words: ~2.1k

▹ Summary: When you know, you know. There's no other way to explain it.

▹ Note: I listened to Margaret by Lana on repeat while writing this, 10/10 recommend. Also, unedited because it's 2am and I want to SLEEP.

You’d met Legolas early spring when the winds were still bitter and the frost was beginning to melt. 

The moon was high and the chatter was mellow, the defeat of Sauron still fresh in everyone's memory. He’d been wearing his ceremonial armor and you a white dress. The jewels you wore shimmered like stars and your eyes shone like moonlit water. A human woman from a minor noble house, you never expected catching the eye of the elven prince that helped save the realm.

Legolas’ eyes followed you intently, entranced by your sweet voice and the slight creases around your eyes when you smiled. It had been three times your eyes had met and after the third time, Legolas found the courage to approach, downing his glass and leaving it behind. His hands trembled and a lump formed in his throat, but he’d kick himself later if he didn’t try. The pathway to you seemed miles long, the rest of the crowd blind to Legolas; it was as if a single light was guiding his way to you. His blood rushed and his heart raced; tingles lit his body up.

It was no shock when Legolas was a few feet away. You noticed him approaching, of course, you were entirely too aware of him and his lingering eyes. Liquid courage was found in a glass of wine that was sweet and tarte all at once. The alcohol caused your cheeks to flush but you knew the prince's presence would make them flush brighter. The alcohol would be a good excuse for the blush you’d soon have.

The noise in your mind grew hush once the elven prince stood before you. He smelled warm and fresh, well groomed and oiled with a hint of a woodsy scent. The smoothness of his features were nearly off putting, but the shy grin on his face was anything but unnerving. The tips of your fingers fiddled with the fabric of your dress and Legolas’ hands were clasped in front of him. Nervous and awkward, neither of you were sure how to proceed.

It was silent for a moment, replaced by the fumbling of the two of you speaking over each other. With the realization, the words were cut short and silence fell over the air. Your eyes fell to the floor and your teeth worried your lips while Legolas’ cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. 

“Apologies, my prince--”

“I insist my lady, you first--”

Another bout of silence. Neither of you could remember how casual conversation worked. You peeked at him through your lashes, a small giggle slipping past your lips. It made Legolas ease his stiff posture, melting into the sound of your voice. 

“May I have your name, my lady.” He couldn’t recall being so shy when speaking with a woman. All the confidence age and skill brought was drained from his body; he was an elfling fumbling over his own feet.

“It is Y/N. I would ask for yours, but I believe that question is redundant.”

“Am I so well known?”

Your grin widened in a way that would make your mother grimace. 

“One of the heroes who saved Middle Earth and the son of the King of the Woodlands?” There was a hint of teasing in your tone, lips curled into a slight smirk. “I perhaps heard your name a time or two.”

Legolas laughed, eyes shut and head slightly tossed back. A stray ray of light hit his head, illuminating him with a halo above his head. “I suppose my reputation does precede me, but I feel like we’re standing on uneven ground. You know more of me than I do of you.”

Some of the nerves that made you feel fluttery and sick began to disappear. His easy and smile and comforting aura felt as same as the childhood nativity you clung to. He put stars in your eyes in a way no one else ever had.

“I’m afraid my life is dull in comparison to the other attendees of this party.” 

The half smile on Legolas’ face contorted into a much softer appearance. Eye bright and voice low, it sent shivers down your spine.

“I dare say you are more so memorable.” 

Your lashes fluttered and your breath got caught in your throat. Subtly, you pinched the side of your thigh, sending a prayer of gratitude to whatever god led you to this moment. A shy giggle bubbled from behind your closed lips. Emboldened from the haze the wine created, you leave a feather light touch over Legolas’ shoulder. 

“A bold statement considering you’ve hardly known me a day.”

Legolas smiled at your quick retort, leaning towards your body, his head tilted down to see you better. 

“They say an elves' instincts are never wrong.” 

You raised a single brow in response, a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. All thoughts of formality and proprietary thrown out. 

“And your instincts say I’m memorable?” 

Legolas paused for a moment before continuing.

“Well when you know, you know.”

Unsure of how to react, a small bout of laughter left your mouth. The rest of the night was spent with Legolas at your side. Even as nobles singing his praises and vying for the favor of an elven prince, Legolas never strayed too far. With a polite smile and nod of the head, he would quickly dismiss the well-wishers in favor of returning his attention to you. 

The night passed far too quickly, and with the blink of an eye you found yourself in the isolation of your room with your blankets pulled to your chin. Behind your closed eyes, your thoughts and dreams were nothing but Legolas and a life you were certain was too far from your grasp. 

---

The crisp spring air was traded for balmy, long summer nights. The world began to return to normal, all that Mordor and Sauraman destroyed slowly being rebuilt. The coronation of the king was approaching, the heroes of Middle Earth lingering in Gondor, including Legolas.  

 You hadn’t spoken since your first meeting, but he was everywhere you looked. Walks through the city, visits to the Keep, or wandering through the gardens; it didn’t matter where you were, he was everywhere. To his credit, he made it seem as if he was a subject of fate and not the mastermind setting the chess board. 

And the board was currently being reset in a small nook overlooking the city. The queen sat in front of a stone table with a book while the king lingered around the edges, unsure of how to approach. 

“I began to think you were a ghost I’d imagined.” You spoke quietly and wet the tip of your finger. Flick. Your eyes began to scan the new page of your book. 

From the corner of your eye you saw Legolas take the free chair directly across from you. His hands rested on the table, fingers intertwined. 

“Why’s that?” 

A slight smirk appeared on your lips, barely visible over your book. Finishing the sentence you were reading, you shut the book and set it on the table. Eye to eye, you took in Legolas’ appearance. His casual leathers had been traded in for formal attire, a delicate silver circlet resting above his brow. Gods did he look beautiful. 

“You seem to be everywhere I am, yet this is the first time you’ve approached.”

Legolas stared at you a moment; a slight furrow of his brow in response to the tilt of your head and sly grin. “I approached you at the celebration.” 

“The first and only time, if we don’t take this moment into consideration.” 

Legolas narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, a grin pulling on his puzzled expression. 

“You seem perfectly capable of starting a conversation and entirely aware of when we were in a room together.” The implication of his words weren’t lost on you, a slight flush betraying your embarrassment. You were entirely too aware of him. 

“And how improper would that be?” You feigned a scandalized appearance, lightly swatting Legolas’ hand. “A minor noble woman approaching an elven prince? My mother would die from the embarrassment that scandal would cause.” 

Legolas laughed; a short and sweet one that made his eyes turn to crescents. There was a flutter in your stomach and a misbeat of your heart. For a moment your eyes glazed over, not aware what Legolas was saying if he was speaking to begin with. He looked entirely too beautiful, his eyes too blue to be natural. Elves were supposed to be supernaturally beautiful, but none of the other elves wandering the keep were as beautiful as him.  

“Ahh.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, the sound pulling you from the spell he cast. “How foolish of me to overlook that detail. In the future I will be sure to start all conversations, lest the public get the wrong idea.” 

“A relief to hear you have agreed to stop silently stalking me. And they claim chivalry to be a dying behavior.” You rolled your eyes, the grin on your face dulling any snark in your words. 

Your eyes returned to Legolas, the easy silence hanging over the two of you. The air was calm, sans a nervous fog over Legolas’ eyes. What was there to be worried over? The war was over, Sauron was defeated. You tried to remember what could be a cause of worry, but your mind came up empty. Even the remaining orcs were being hunted down and slain.

“But I’m sure that reassurance isn’t why you’re here.” You broke the silence, Legolas’ attention snapping back towards you. “What worried you?” 

“I am to return home soon.” 

Your mouth was parted, unable to hide the disappointment on your face.

“Oh.” The word was uttered so quietly you weren’t certain it was actually said. Of course he would go home, he’s a prince with duties to his people. It’s not as if there would be anything to keep him here after the King’s coronation next week. 

“I wish you a safe journey.” 

The tips of your fingers tapped against the smooth stone. 

“You mistake me. It is expected of me to return home shortly after Aragorn’s coronation, but I am unsure if it is what I want to do.” 

A slight furrow of your brows betrayed your confusion, but before you could open your mouth, Legolas continued to speak. 

“We have not spoken nearly as much as I would’ve liked during my stay here, a predicament I understand to be a making of my own, but I--” He cut himself off, eyes lowering to the ground as he shook his head. 

Oh.

The realization came with a bright red hue painting your cheeks. All this time, you never once considered the elven prince had affections for you. Each time you’d been in the same room, same hall, or same street, it never occurred to you he was building the courage to speak with you again. Had your first meeting had such an effect on him? Could he possibly get as fluttery and nervous as you do?

“I would like the chance to get to know you, Lady Y/N, and in time perhaps court you.” 

Like a starstruck idiot, you stared at Legolas with wide eyes and parted lips. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears and in the distance there were birds singing, or maybe you’d just imagined that.

Legolas began to drum his fingers against the table, nervous eyes unable to meet yours. You’d been silent for too long, you realized. He may be getting the wrong idea. To assuage whatever fears were building within his head, you reached your hand out and placed it over him. It brought his attention back to you; wide eyed and flushed face he looked ages younger than he really was. 

“I would love for the chance to get to know you beyond the surface level.”

Like dawn brightening the landscape, Legolas’ face lit up. Any petty fears or worries were banished from his expression. He brought his free hand to rest it atop your other free hand. He squeezed your hand three times before pulling them away. After a moment you hear the soft pad of footsteps on the ground. 

A chair skids across the ground as Legolas stood from his seat, outstretching a hand towards you. “Perhaps the lady would grant me a walk through the halls?”

Gently, you stood from your seat, placing your hand in the crook of his arm. 

“Lead the way my prince.”

[prodbymaui]

I Loved You (Dangerously)

drunk off that love, fuck my head up

PAIRING: lee jeno x reader

GENRE: infidelity

WORD COUNT: 1.8k+ words

WARNINGS: bulging kink, choking kink, strength kink (?)

SYNOPSIS: You're in a lovingly, domestic relationship with your boyfriend. Or so everyone thought.

A/N: first jeno fic, happy reading! please do leave your thoughts if you can! <3

Lively chatters, car honking, vendors selling. The sun has exchanged positions with the moon yet it is not the end of a day for the people of Myeongdong. The chilly breeze bites through your flesh, but you suppose you are to blame for not dawning a puffer jacket.

Steps quickening, your keys jingling in your hands as you head back to your apartment. Your phone pings and catches your attention, it displays an email from your co-worker but it's not what you looked at though. Eyes settling on the time, you glance where the picture of your lovely boyfriend smiling innocently and widely lies. A quarter after 8PM, he should be in his own apartment now.

Upon arriving, your doorknob twists easily, as though it wasn't locked. Did you forget to? You were certain you did before leaving. Carefully, you hold the door open, heart beating rapidly as fear creeps up on your spine. Am I about to die? Hopefully not. You have a lot of things on your bucket list and dying young isn't one of them.

The lights are on, and music fills the entire flat. That song is too familiar for you. Closing the door behind you, your eyes roam around, observing. Not even a minute and as if on cue, a man who wears the face of your boyfriend walks into your vision, seemingly fresh out of the shower. He then meets your eyes with no surprise.

''Great. You're home.''

You roll your eyes. Raking your eyes up and down on his body, heat burns your cheeks as you turn away, pursing your lips at the sight of water droplets dripping along his bare chest. You chuck your shoes off and head to the kitchen. ''Why are you here?''

You heard a scoff. Footsteps following your trace. ''Why not? I'm more comfortable here than at my own apartment.''

''Cut the chase, Jeno.'' You face him. ''What are you doing here?'' And when you only receive a grin from the man who's leaning on the wall, you sigh. ''Did you got fired again?''

''Ah.. you know me too well.''

Irritated, you shake your head and proceed to walk out of the kitchen but before you could, Jeno's already catching your wrist– preventing you from getting away. Tugging you closer, he offers a smile.

''Don't walk out on me now, babe.''

You click your tongue. ''Shut up.''

Chuckling, Jeno wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his nose on the crook of your neck. ''So feisty.''

Jeno runs his palms on your side up and down as he plants sweet sweet pecks on the vastness of your neck. His kisses then eventually travels upwards where he connects your lips with his. What a lighthearted kiss turns into somewhat a desperate one, swiftly licking each other's lips before sucking on them.

''Fuck, I missed you–'' Grabbing the back of your thighs, Jeno carries you with ease as he transfers both of you to your bedroom, his body leading him despite the lack of vision. It's like telling him 'Worry no more about tripping, you've been here enough that I've memorized every single thing.'

Jeno is lying if he says it doesn't fuel the smugness in him.

He slowly settles you on the bed, hovering over you, gripping your hips as your legs circle his waist. Pushing his tongue in, Jeno licks every wall, every part that he can reach. A drool escapes the end of your lips as you share the messy kiss with Jeno, groaning when his boner rubs against your clothed core, putting pressure on your clit.

A string of saliva that connects your lips is the thing you see before your top gets taken off of you and your bra flies somewhere in the room, the only thing your mind could fully register is Jeno's tongue flicking over your nipple as he keeps his fingers entertained with the other. The air thickens, and suckles echoes in your bedroom.

Pleasure shoots up your spine as Jeno grinds, angle perfectly aligned for the head of his cock to nudge your clit. You whimper. ''Jeno, fuck...''

But Jeno's ears are shut the moment he takes your nubs in his mouth, eyes closed as he savors the delish before him. Tightening your legs, you move to press your core onto him harder, hands squeezing his biceps. ''Jeno, please..''

Jeno snaps out of his daze at the vulnerability. A music to his ears, his eyes darken, once again he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. You squeak, body jostling as your pants and underwear get ripped off of you, thrown carelessly.

His fingers trace the line between your pussy cheeks, dipping a little before bringing it to his mouth, licking your wetness– tasting you. Jeno moans, head cloudy. Jeno takes in the sight of you after opening his eyes that he doesn't even know had closed. 

''Please, Jeno..'' Breathing heavily, legs wide open for him, already looking so fucked out when he haven't even done anything yet. Jeno growls at the urge to eat you up, make you his.

Cupping one ankle, Jeno peppers kisses along your calves, eyes not leaving your figure. ''Tell me what you want. What exactly are you saying please to, baby?''

At this point, all your sanity had left you. Embarrassment? It was a thing of yesterday. Reaching up to Jeno, your next words snaps his patience. ''W-want your cock.. I want your cock in me.''

Smirking, Jeno pecks you again before going down on you, making out with your pussy as if it's your lips. His tongue wiggles, pulling out lewd moans from you, gripping the sheets in an attempt to prevent yourself from pulling his hair instead. Jeno flicks his tongue over your puffed clit.

''Fuck, Jeno–!''

A finger slides past your entrance, your walls engulfing the digit with warmth and velvetines. You're so fucking wet, there's little to no resistance. Another follows suit, Jeno scissors you properly all the while he enjoys himself in getting drunk from your essence and the music that is your explicit sounds.

Pulling his face away, his skin covered by your slick glistens under the bedroom lights. Jeno chuckles as your walls clamp around his fingers. He then curls them in an angle that prods at your spot sweetly, your back arches off the bed. Latching on your perky nipples, Jeno tugs his towel and gives himself pumps to tend his hard cock.

''Put it in..'' Jeno mumbles profanities seeing the desperation in your eyes as you stare at his angry leaking tip.

Before you could whine about the loss of his fingers in your, Jeno replaces it with his girthy cock, slipping inside as you moan in unison. Burying the rest of his cock, he presses your knees on your chest and starts a brutal pace that jostles your body to the headboard repeatedly.

''Jeno! F-fuck! So big.. it feels so good–!''

Jeno grips the top of the headboard as he madly drives his cock in and out of you, his eyes glinting with lust and something you couldn't decipher.

''When's the last time I had you like this?You're so fucking tight– you're suffocating my fucking cock. Look at that, baby. Look how your pussy stretches widely and sucks my cock inside. It feels good, huh?'' Jeno nudges your legs to a wide V, planting his foot on the bed as he gives it to you faster, harder, and deeper. 

Looking down, he notices a bump that continuously appears and disappears in sync with his thrusts, growling in realization that it's his fucking cock that cause the bump in your belly. Gripping your waist, Jeno slams your pliant body to meet the snap of his hips, your breast jiggles and Jeno will be damned if he resists the urge to feast on them. God, he's fucking crazy for them.

''Oooh shit! You're so big and so hard inside me– ah ah ah– fuck! More! More, please–''

Jeno hums against your ear. ''More? Does my girl want more?''

Drunk in pleasure, you nod absentmindedly, nails raking down Jeno's back, creating red lines all over his skin. He slams a couple more times before taking a pity on the headboard that hits the wall due to your vigorous fucking. Jeno groans, scooping you in his arms, and pins you to the wall before hammering his cock inside you. Biting the junction of your neck, Jeno laps the red beads that seeps past your skin. The graze of teeth on your skin itches in pain yet you crave for more.

Wet skin slapping bounce in the room, wanton moans escapes you as Jeno snaps his hips fiercely.

''Oh, god!''

''Yeah?'' Jeno licks your tears. ''You like that? You love getting stuffed full of my big, fat cock, huh?''

Pulling you away from the wall, your eyes roll to the back as Jeno's length digs deeper inside you, so deep that you could feel it at the back of your throat. You cling to Jeno, drools dribbling down your chin as carnal ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body and mind. ''I'm coming..''

Grabbing your ass, Jeno bounces you to meet his thrusts, parting your cheeks to slide even deeper. ''Come on my cock, baby.''

Strained moan leaves your lips as Jeno sucks the pathway of your drool, feeling himself get closer to climax as your walls clenches continuously around him, painting his cock white. Jeno pistons his hips violently, eyes shut close. And when your hand encloses on his neck and tightens just the way it sends him an irreversible euphoria, Jeno holds on to his strength as he shoots strings of white, filling you up to the brim.

Breathing heavily, Jeno brings you back to the bed, fetching the towel to wipe down your mess before laying beside you, hugging you from the back. His loving kiss on your shoulder is the last thing that registers in your mind before drifting to a slumber.

As Jeno combs his fingers through your hair, a smile unknowingly appears on his face. You look so beautiful like this. So peaceful. Sure, you can certainly protect yourself but it still makes him want to gatekeep you from the harsh world so that you're out of harm's reach. 

Though, Jeno knows it is impossible. The constant pings from your phone is a reminder.

JIHO: Hi, baby. I just got home! 

JIHO: Mom asked for help to look for Jeno because she received a call from his work telling to pay for the damages or sorts.

JIHO: Sooo sorry I didn't send you a text!

JIHO: Are you gonna sleep now?

But as long as you don't stop him from having you, Jeno supposes he can ignore the fact. 

The fact that you will never be his. And the fact that you're in this loving, domestic relationship with his twin brother.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[mango-sp1ce]

Dan wipes down the bar as the other bartenders chat behind him. It’s all fleeting conversation, nothing of real note as they clean up and get ready to leave.

Unlike them, Dan just got in for his shift. The graveyard shift, how fitting. Not being one for small talk, he gives a simple grunt as a goodbye when the other workers leave, not even turning his head.

The moment the door clicks shut behind them, he brings his hand under the bar and flicks on the switches. Lights, sound, the whole shebang. His sensitive ears easily pick up on the sound of the door locking, and a different door on a different wall unlocking.

And then he sits, and he waits.

———

The first hour is quiet. A few goons, a few lesser villains. Condiment King is… an entire issue within himself, but even he didn’t pick much of a fight tonight. If anything, the bar just received its most recent restocking of condiments, courtesy of the king.

Washing a few stray dishes in his free time, Dan glances up when the door opens again and a fresh chill finds its way inside. He rolls his eyes as the villain sits down, before letting his core thrum to action and coil the frost back out the door. The man can keep his little aura, but leave your jacket at the door please. Common courtesy.

He makes momentary eye contact before making the drink without instruction or a word said. Seems frosty isn’t here tonight for small talk. Good.

Right as he slides the drink over, the door opens again to another high end villainous celebrity. The Riddler makes his way in, looking a little worse for wear. He take a close seat and does a little hand motion that only takes Dan a minute to decipher.

When he slides his drink over, the man smiles and laughs. “Got it in one! One of these days I’ll stump ya!” Maybe. It is completely possible. Dans only been recognizing the gestures from different books and video guides he’s been watching.

The two big shot villains get to talking and Dan proceeds to do what he likes the most about this job. The chaotic neutral action of… simply ignoring them. He turns and takes note of inventory instead as they plan whatever it is that they’ve planned.

And then the haunting (not to Dan, but certainly to the people of Gotham) sound of a clown car echoes down the street outside. He’s sure it isn’t an actual clown car, but he’s never really stepped outside to look.

The two men at the bar look at each other before sliding to sit further down. Within minutes of their decision, the main man himself makes his way in.

Dans already got his drink ready before he even sits. But yet again as always, the man chooses to sit right in front of wherever Dans standing at the moment.

“So, bartender, what’s it today?” The madman cackles out, taking the drink and swirling the little umbrella Dan had plopped on top. The umbrella didn’t belong there at all really, but Dan had noticed the way the man favored the little item whenever he got it and figured he may as well put one every time.

“Shocked. Chilled.” Dan responds with a nod towards the drink. The joker makes a thrilled little sound before taking a sip and knocking his head back in a laugh.

It’s not as if the words he just said have any actual meaning. At least, not what they might’ve had before. Jokers got his own thing going on, his own mixes and substances and who knows what else he puts in his drinks. Dan wouldn’t be surprised if the little “surprise” packs the Joker’s goons supplied the bar with were just joker gas in water dissolving form.

“That’s certainly got a spark!” He yells, his eyes as wide as ever. Dan doesn’t say anything, after all; everyone who comes here knows how he feels about small talk.

“So, Danny-boy, I’ve got an offer that you certainly can’t refuse!” The man chuckles, sipping his drink and playing idly with the small umbrella. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Don’t call me that. And shoot.”

“Woah now- I haven’t even loaded my gun!” He jokes. Dan just stares blankly until the man continues. “Always such the party pooper. So Casper, I’ve got a guy who needs a little… break. The usual really, but I want you to do this one with pizazz! How do ya like sequins?”

Dan blinks at him. Once. Twice. And then he dumps a cup of ice onto the man. The man cackles and cackles, like a wheezing hyena, before straightening out.

“Yeah, I figured you’d say that.”