#so please be gentle if you wanna scream how wrong I am

[ln4bub]

59+Oscar. I was thinking they just had (vanilla) sex and as they’re lying in bed she says this and he’s immediately like, aight bet.

(Also this was the anon who sent in the 7 minutes in heaven one, thought I’d un anon myself, lol)

I am dropping everything to write this request immediately, you are an oscar piastri smut genius. I altered the prompt ever so slightly to match the reader's vibe but enjoy <3

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

Your relationship with Oscar was relatively new, the two of you still getting to know each other's bodies. Oscar had always been quite a shy person, never really expressing much beyond a smile and a nod in interviews. With you he was different, soft and loving, very affectionate; something that translated into the bedroom. Hands held, missionary, forehead kisses - always very gentle.

Don't get it wrong, Oscar was a gentleman, always making sure you finished first, but there was only so much you could take before wanting to switch it up. Your head is currently lead on Oscar's hard chest, his arms wrapped around you as he breathes deeply. "You okay baby? You've been quiet since we finished." He questions, stroking his thumb up and down your arm.

"'m just thinking." You mumble, tilting your head to look at him.

"What about?" He asks, slight concern etched onto his features. You sigh, sitting up, "Do you ever want to try something different?" You ask. His eyebrows furrow, lips jutting out in a pout, "Different?" He questions.

"Like, don't take it the wrong way, that sex was good, it was so good. But next time, could you maybe do it harder?" You murmur shyly, avoiding eye contact with the Australian.

"Harder?" He asks, curiosity taking over. He pulls you into him, now straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you harder?" He questions, voice dropping with lust, his lips skating over your pulse point. "Want me to hold you down and fuck you like a whore?" He whispers in your ear, capturing your earlobe between his teeth, making you whine.

Your legs squeeze around his hips, yours beginning to grind lightly as he lays kisses over your neck. His pillowy lips suck against your pulse point, tongue laving over the red mark he left behind. His bite is slightly harder than usual, causing your nails to dig in to the flesh of his shoulders. He moans against you at the sting, turning you around and bending you over.

“Still dripping from the last time we fucked and my girl is just aching for my cock isn’t she?” He teases, watching the way you clench around nothing. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them down to press against your g-spot. Your knees almost give out with the pleasure but he’s quick to remind you that this was what you wanted.

Oscar positions himself behind you before sliding his cock inside you, groaning at your tightness. You moan out at the feeling of being stuffed full, your head drooping. Oscar’s hand loops your hair into a ponytail around his fist, pulling your hair back before he slams himself in and out of you.

“My girl’s taking me so well ay, is this what you wanted? Wanted to be fucked so hard your pretty little ass turns red?” He asks, his free hand coming down to hit you. You scream out his name, your walls providing a vice-like grip.

“There we go, that’s it, such a good girl for me. If I’d known this was how you liked to be fucked I would’ve had you cock drunk like this much sooner. Would’ve had those beautiful eyes crying for my dick.” He groans, pulling your hair tighter as he fucks you harder, faster.

“Oh god Oscar, please don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum.” You whimper, your legs slowly sliding down the mattress until you’re practically led on your stomach.

“Wanna feel you cum, wanna feel how good I make my perfect girl feel. Come on baby.” Oscar begins guiding you to your orgasm, gentle kisses to your neck contrasting the brutal pace of his hips. He feels your walls tightening further, your back arching into him. The moan of his name you let out is enough to send him over the edge, his cum filling you up.

He slides his cock out of your pussy, spreading your legs to watch the way his cum leaks out. Two fingers find the apex of your thighs, swiping through the combination of your juices before running over your lips. You open your mouth, eagerly taking in his thick fingers and he smiles, eyes beaming.

A gentle kiss to the forehead and a whispered promise of a bath is all it takes for you to fall asleep happy, dreaming of the escapades you and Oscar can now enjoy.

[macsimagines]

I cannot thank you enough for now incredibly you bring my silly little ideas to life~

May I request for Yan! Shin, Izana, & Ran on how they are as a husband to their darling and how they are as fathers? (like them after they’ve finally achieved their Yandere dreams of marrying their darling and having kids with them and everything ) ʚ♡ɞ

TW: YANDERE CONTENT, MINORS DNI, BABY TRAPPING, MANIPULATION, COERCION

Yandere!Shinichiro Sano

Is so happy that you've made him a husband and father. It wasn't easy trying to convince you to go out with him, but eventually he called in enough favors and 'saved' you enough times that you relented and dated him for a short period.

Short because after that he tried very hard to get you to marry him and when it was obvious you weren't going to relent he eventually started to just poke holes in condoms and simply waited for the great news.

"Oh? You're pregnant? Well shucks, looks like I gotta take responsibility. When are you moving in?"

Ya he's not hiding the fact that he's all too pleased to put a ring on you and have a baby in you. But he does his best to provide and make you happy.

He comes home with flowers all the time, just cause, and sometimes he'll bring your son with him to the shop. "You need a break baby, I can take over today."

Shinichiro loves having JR. around. He of course loves his son, but it does help he's the perfect combination of you and Shinichiro.

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

He had to force you to marry him. You had tried to leave him and he wasn't going to let you live any kind of life without him. Those first few years were less than marital bliss.

The fighting, the screaming, the crying. It was honestly hell. Izana almost let himself think you weren't worth the trouble but he was kidding himself if he thought he could live a life without you.

That all changed when he found out you were pregnant. Now it was real, now he couldn't afford to fuck up.

"Y/N, I know you hate me, I can accept that, but please for our babies sake, lets make this work."

Izana is like a changed man, he's kinder and even gentle. He can tell you're still resentful and bitter, but he'll accept that. He just wants his child to feel loved and know he did all he could to make that happen.

You finally go into labor early, Izana doesn't know why or what he did wrong but this was obviously his fault. He was going to loose you both. You really were going to leave him and take the one thing he wanted most in the world with you.

But you pull through. You and his precious and perfect daughter. She's puny in his hands, even for a newborn, just barely bigger than his own palms, but she's perfect. And he'll never let her go.

"Hey, princess. You don't know how happy I am to finally meet you."

Yandere!Ran Haitani

Made you his wife after he found out you had his Twins. One boy and one girl. His brother was the one that had to break the news to him about it 4 years after he had told you to get lost.

"Hey bro, remember that trick that said you knocked her up?" "That bitch? Like I'd ever forget to wear a condom." "...You might wanna have a look at her insta."

Well shit. Obviously the rubber ripped because he was staring at his little clones on your feed. It was very apparent he was the father only a fool would deny it.

"You ain't my dad!" Your son hisses at him "Ya! You ain't!" Your daughter will parrot back. Clearly introducing himself as their father while they were beatingtheshitoutof playing with other kids wasn't the best idea.

"Our hair is pretty an' black!" "Ya! Yours is purple and ugly!"

Ran might not like how the kids are giving him shit, but he certainly does love the idea of another infamous pair of Haitani siblings running amok in Roppongi.

He also doesn't like the fact that you try to fight him tooth and nail for him to not bother your family. "Our family baby, C'mon. Let me take responsibility."

You have no choice but to relent to his threats of custody and courts, knowing damn well you don't have the connection he does.

And he doesn't love the fact that you're a huge bitch to him or the fact that his twins seem to live and breath violence more than he and his bother did back in his youth. But he must admit he thinks it's way more hot how cold and unforgiving you are compared to your old self. You keep him entertained at least.

"Guess who just had to bail our little ankle biters outta jail~ Why not thank your husband for a job well done."

[pellucid-constellations]

Angstober 🎃

Prompt: "What's Wrong"

A/n: Hi surprise! I've decided to do some drabbles for angstober!! They won't be every day and it will be very informal, but I feel like this is a great opportunity for writing! I'll be making a masterlist for these drabbles soon. Enjoy!! :)

~~~

“What’s wrong?” 

His voice was broken, anguished. You were sure you’d never heard the tone before, the way the words cracked over each other and crumbled into a rasp. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing felt wrong. 

“Please, what’s wrong?” he tried again, and somehow those words hit you harder than the first time. 

Nothing was wrong. Nothing hurt. But—you thought, as words refused to pass the parting of your lips—nothing was right either. You were stuck, immovable. You felt hands on your face, and there was still the ache that blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s voice echoed there, but there was nothing else. You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t move. 

“Baby, come on.” The hands on your face were moving in untraceable patterns, rushed and illogical. “Come on. Come on, please.” 

How did you get here? There wasn’t a clear path. You’d been alone, there had been darkness, and then there was this strange, stagnant air that refused to leave you. You’d been alone for such a long time. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you. We found you, baby. We finally fucking found you. Please snap out of this. Tell me how to help you.” 

You weren’t sure if this unbearable pain invading your lungs would be livable long term. You weren’t sure how to follow Bucky’s request. You were seeing him but you weren’t. He was talking to you but he was really talking to a brick wall. 

There was another light in the room, a door opening and more footsteps echoing in whatever chamber you had found yourself in. How long had that door been closed? Days? Weeks? Bucky would tell you if you had the capability to ask. 

“I love you so fucking much. Please. Please.” 

“Barnes, we can’t take her like that.” 

The deeper voice was alarming—recognizable but distant in your memory. You preferred the gentleness of Bucky’s tone. 

“To hell with whatever Shield expects me to do here,” Bucky seethed, eyes never leaving you. “We’ve been looking for her for over a year. You really expect me to leave my girl hooked up to this thing?” 

“She’s gone, Sergeant. No life signs reported on the scan. No activity.” 

That wasn’t true. You were hearing everything. Some part of your consciousness was still here. 

“Her heart’s beating. She’s there. Get someone. Help her,” Bucky demanded, the breath from his words on the skin of your face. He was so close and you could do nothing about it. 

“That’s all she has left. Hydra’s had her hooked up to this machine for months with no brain activity other than what they’ve created. We can’t bring her back to the tower, Barnes. She’s already gone.” 

A cry—no, a sob—reverberated against the stone walls.

No. No. You weren’t gone. You were screaming at them but no sounds were escaping you. You were here, you could feel Bucky’s lips as they trembled and pressed to your temple. What scan were they reading? It was wrong. 

“No,” Bucky denied with thick, heavy words. “No, Fury, you can’t say that. You don’t get to say that to me. I’ve made her my top priority since the moment she went missing and it’s been like pulling teeth getting help. I finally get someone to pay attention to me and you give up? No.” 

You were being compressed now. Bucky was wrapping himself around you, coveting you as if you were a possession he needed to protect. You wondered if it was due to the finality in Fury���s tone—if there was something you were missing. Something you couldn’t see.

“Barnes, there’s nothing we can do. She’d be a danger if we got her out of here.” 

Another kiss was pressed to your skin, damp this time, tears soaking into your cheek. They weren’t yours. You weren’t sure if you could cry anymore. 

“I’m not giving up on you,” Bucky whispered against your ear. More footsteps entered the room. “You’re gone, so am I.”

So much noise. 

The small, echoing chamber erupted into a cacophony of uninterpretable noises. 

And you couldn’t see, but something was wrong now. You would tell Bucky as soon as you woke up. 

[freedomfireflies]

You have me looking more forward to fridays then I normally do. I SCREAMED when I read ifall Harry is going to be updated on Friday💛🤭

iFall for Harry pt. 4*

Summary: You and Harry have agreed to your first phone call.

And phone sex is always better together.

Word Count: 3.2k

(Previous parts to this series are down below at the end!)

“When was the last time you touched yourself?”

Right to the intimate questions, all right. “…last night.”

Harry hums. “And did you make yourself come?”

“I always make myself come,” you retort almost instantly. “Even if it takes all night.”

You swear you can hear him smile. “That’s what I like to hear.” There’s a brief pause as you hear him shift. “All right, since that was two questions and two answers…I’ve got two instructions.”

You nod before realizing he can’t see you.

“Want you to take your hand…and slip it under your shirt,” he says, and the sound of his voice has grown deeper. Labored, almost. “Just your shirt.”

You do just that, slightly cold palm meeting your warm skin as you trail it up to your chest. 

“Are you doing it?”

“…yes.”

“Good girl.” More shifting. “Second, I want you to think about something that turns you on. Anything. Cocks, pussies, hands, legs, tits…whatever. Think of something you’d like to touch. Taste. Think of how you’d want to be touched…who you’d want to be touching you. And where.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you settle back into the arm of the couch to do just that. You think about an old ex-boyfriend that had a particular good technique. You think about the sounds you make when you’re so far gone that you’re dripping down your own hand. You think about soft, delicate whimpers. You think about deep, guttural groans.

You think about Harry. 

His voice, his instructions. You don’t know anything past that, really, but you know that you could easily come to the sound of his voice alone. Even if all he did was breathe.

“Okay…” you exhale, thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple. “M’doing it…is it my turn now?”

There’s a gentle chuckle on the other side of the phone before Harry says, “Yeah. Ask me anything.”

In-between images of strong hands and sweaty skin, you work to find a question. “How long have you been…entertaining?”

There’s a pause. “Little over ten years.”

“And do you like it?”

Again, you hear him smile. “Yeah,” he murmurs, seemingly content. “Yeah, I do. Wouldn’t wanna do anything else, really.”

You pull your lip between your teeth. “Good to know. Are your pants down?”

He laughs once more, seemingly at the blunt switch in topics, but does answer. “Yeah, almost shoved ‘em down the second I came in here.”

You smirk. “And where are your hands?”

“Got one on my cock.”

“And the other?”

“And the other is waiting for you to tell it what to do.”

Your cheeks flush but you’re so pleased. “Want you to turn around…and put it on the wall. Want you to just stand there, looking down at the mess you’re making, while you think about how good it would feel to be pulling on someone’s hair.”

A few seconds of silence pass but you don’t miss the soft groan that slips through the speaker.

“Because I’m willing to bet…you like to have that kind of control…don’t you?” you add. “Like to take a fistful of someone’s hair and show them exactly who they answer to. Move them exactly where you want, make them do exactly what you’ve asked them to. Until they’ve got pretty little tears in their pretty little eyes.”

You’re not sure where you managed to find this dominance, but you certainly don’t mind. You both share the power right now, and for some reason…you can’t help but thrive off it.

“Am I wrong?” you ask.

“No,” he breathes as you hear him shuffle around. “No, not at all.”

“Didn’t think so.” You smile. “And are you doing what I’ve asked?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy.”

You hear him curse between gritted teeth and pride swells in your chest. 

“All right, my turn,” he declares after he’s seemed to catch his breath. “Want you to tell me…what I can call you.”

Your brow raises.

“Doesn’t have to be your real name if you don’t want,” he continues. “But if I have to moan, ‘Cheese Girl,’ I might go soft.”

Your head shakes with amusement. “What do you want to call me?”

He takes a moment to think. “Thought about calling you Angel earlier, but that doesn’t exactly fit, now, does it?”

“Dunno,” you reply innocently. “You tell me.”

“It doesn’t.” The answer is resolute. “No, you’re no angel. At least, not one from heaven. And my little devil sounds a little too generous.”

You bite back your amusement as you listen.

“So, how ‘bout this?” he proposes. “I’ll call you exactly what you deserve to be called. If you’re good for me, then you’ll be my good girl. And if you’re not…well, then, I guess we’ll have to decide what you are.”

“Fine,” you agree softly, lashes fluttering with intrigue. “And let me guess…you’d like me to call you Daddy?”

“No,” he says, almost instantaneously. “No, I wanna hear you say my name. Wanna hear my name in that pretty mouth. Wanna make sure you know…that your pleasure…belongs to me.”

Impressed and beyond pleased, your breath hitches as you whisper, “Yes, Harry.”

You can’t see him, but he sounds proud. “That’s my good girl. Knew you would be. Was gonna punish you for not answering my question, but you’re behaving so well, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

He hums. “Then where is your other hand?”

“Wherever you want it to be.”

“That’s right. Go ahead and take your sweats off, baby, okay? M’not gonna let you touch yourself yet, but I think you deserve to be teased a little, hm?”

You swallow thickly as you set the phone down on the coffee table so you can rid yourself of the fabric on your legs.

Your fingers tremble with anticipation as you pull the pants down so you can toss them onto the floor, and once the air hits your bare legs, your muscles begin to unwind.

“Now…I want you to let your fingers trail along your inner thighs,” he instructs softly. “Nice and slow. I want you to feel the skin. How it tenses, how it dips, how it begs you for more. Bet it gets so soft the higher you get, yeah? Bet it’s so sweet, you could just bury your face into it.”

Goosebumps crawl their way across your body as you let yourself enjoy such a simple touch. And you obey his every instruction with focused precision as your body begins to yearn for more.

“How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you mumble, head rolling back. “Bet it feels as good as you do right now, yeah?”

“Maybe. Probably feel better if you told me what to do next.”

“Then I guess I better ask you another question, hm?”

“Think you should.”

The delicate dancing on your thighs slows as you search for your next inquiry. “I’m realizing I probably should have asked this question a long time ago, but…are you involved with anyone? Is there a relationship I’m ruining? Because I swear to God, if you purposefully didn’t tell me—”

“No,” he says quickly. “Fuck, no. I’d never…no. I wouldn’t do that to someone else or to you. No. No, of course not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Fucking positive. M’not calling you just to get my rocks off and ruin a relationship, that’s…no,” he repeats, a bit more vehemently. “I fucking promise.”

You listen closely for any signs of deceit, and honestly, you suppose there really is no way to know for certain.

But, right now, you choose to believe him.

“Good,” you whisper, a tad relieved.

“And you?” he asks. “Is there…a Mr. Cheese Girl? Or Mrs.? Or Mx.?”

You smirk. “No,” you admit. “No, it’s just me, and the dead succulent I can’t ever seem to keep alive.”

Upon the mention, your eyes drift over toward the sad, dead plant near your TV. Poor thing.

He exhales a laugh that sounds a little airer than before. “You promise?”

“Girl Scout’s honor.”

“S’good.” You hear a bit of static and your breath hitches. God, please don’t let the call drop. “All right. Since we both asked, and we both answered…I think we both deserve a new instruction.”

“I agree. How’s that cock doing? Is it nice and red yet?”

He scoffs but you can tell there’s a slight, needy edge woven within the sarcasm. “How’d you know?”

“I can always tell.”

“Yeah? Then what would you like me to do about it?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and grin. “Want you to swipe your thumb across the top and take a taste for me. Tell me what I’m missing.”

“Fucking shit—” he hisses, and you swallow a giddy laugh. “God, maybe I do need Life Alert.”

You wait for him to follow the instruction, the soft sound of his sucking dancing through the speaker as you feel your stomach flip. “Well?”

“…honestly, it just tastes like come,” he admits, and you smile. “Bet yours is a whole lot sweeter, though, isn’t it?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Find out for me.”

Thrilled with the permission to finally make contact, you move your hand from your thighs to your hips, touch slipping beneath the band so you can swipe your finger through.

Once you’re sure you’ve got enough, you bring your soaked finger up to your lips before laying it on your tongue.

You’ve tasted yourself before. He’s right, it’s really nothing that special (at least, not to you), but you play it up, because you know he’ll appreciate it.

You sigh and you suck, and you pop off your hand with satisfaction as you listen for the sound of his approval.

And it comes quickly, another curse scraping from his throat as it echoes around the bathroom. 

“Good then, yeah?” he asks, almost regretfully, and you nod.

“Fucking delicious.”

 Another hum. “I’ve got another question for you.”

“All right.”

“Are you dripping?”

You have to fight back a whine. “What do you think?”

“I think you should tell me.”

“Yes,” you admit, palm already sliding back down your stomach in search of your cunt. “God, more than I thought I’d be. Normally takes a little more effort. Guess I’ve been wound up for a while.”

“Yeah?” He almost sounds hopeful.

“Yeah.” Your hips shift against the couch, as if itching to thrust up into your hand. “Since the moment you made that stupid lube joke.”

You think you hear a laugh, but you can’t be sure. “You poor thing. If I’d known you were in such bad shape, I would have called you sooner.”

“Well, you’re here now.”

A beat.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “M’here. I’m right here. And I want you to do something else for me.”

“What?” you pant.

“Want you to close your eyes,” he instructs, and instantly, your lids fall shut. “Want you to close your eyes…and picture something.”

“Okay…”

He takes a breath. “Want you to picture my tongue on that pretty cunt.”

You roll your lips into your mouth and squirm along the cushions.

“I know you don’t know what I look like,” he adds. “But I want you to picture me talking to you while I take a taste. My hands on your thighs, holding you open for me, playing with you until you’re begging me to give you just a little more…”

And you do. God, you do picture him. Not a face but his voice. That deep, sultry cadence guiding you closer to the edge. Encouraging you—praising you. 

If he looks half as good as he sounds…you might have accidentally won the lottery.

And you don’t need to imagine his face for this scenario he’s proposing to work. You simply allow your body to visualize the way it would feel to be held. Taken care of. Touched. 

Tasted.

All while that voice of his talks you through each step.

Your fingers tap just near your clit, closer but still too far, begging for permission as you roll your head toward where your phone is still sitting on the coffee table. “Harry?”

“Yes, sweet girl?”

“Please…”

“Please what?”

You whine. “Please let me touch myself, this is…I can’t do it any longer.”

He makes a noise of approval before cooing, “Poor little thing. Does it hurt?”

“It does, it hurts.”

“Then answer another question for me, and I’ll let you.”

You huff to yourself as you work on your self-restraint. 

And of course, he takes his sweet fucking time to ask. “If you ever find yourself needing release in the future…will you think of me?”

You hesitate, a little unsure what he means. 

“Will you think…to ask for my help?” he clarifies when you don’t offer a response, and you exhale slowly.

“God, yeah,” you admit, almost sheepishly. “Probably shouldn’t, but…don’t think I’d be able to think about anyone else.”

This time, you know you hear him smile. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Harry. Now…please.”

He offers you a rather sadistic chuckle. “Okay, baby, go ahead.”

So, you do. You generously coat your fingers and drag them up to your clit, pinching and circling exactly the way you like. “And what about you?”

“What about me, baby?”

“What are you doing?”

“What would you like me to do?”

Well, what you’d actually like him to do, he can’t since he’s not here.

So, you settle for, “Want you to give yourself a little squeeze and think of me.”

And you know he has because the sounds of gratification he makes are heavenly. You might not be able to picture him doing it, but the idea is there, and that idea gives you the inspiration and push you need to slip a finger inside.

And suddenly, something clicks.

It’s harmonious and effortless. Both of you, working to get yourselves off, to the noises of each other.

The game of questions comes to an end as the sound of his hand pumping his cock reverberates through the speakers, hitting your ear just so.

And he sounds so…fuck, so good. There’s a chill that runs down your spine when you allow yourself to imagine what it would be like to hear those sounds directly in your ear.

In person.

Sure, he could be a serial killer, but you’d let him murder you any day if it meant you could hear him whimper again.

Because he does. He whimpers, ever-so-slightly in the back of his throat and you almost miss it but thankfully you don’t.

And that sound alone, that desperation, is exactly what you’d needed to hear.

You add a second finger, stretching yourself just so as you pump and curl your way closer to release.

“You still with me?” he calls just as your back is beginning to arch off the sofa.

“Yeah,” you answer faintly. “M’here. Are you?”

“Right fucking here,” he says, a bit gruffer. “Just wanna hear you.”

Instinctively, you mewl, growing more and more unhinged as the second’s pass. You’re hitting just the right spot, feeling so goddamn full. And that, plus the way you’re treating your clit like a toy—you aren’t gonna make it much longer.

“Don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he muses, almost as if to himself. “S’fucking killing me, kitten. Don’t even know you and I’d give you everything I have.”

“Yeah?” you manage, almost inaudibly, but he hums.

“Yeah.” His voice is growing thicker. He’s gotta be getting close, and you’ve never needed to hear something so badly. “Gonna think about you for the rest of my goddamn life. Think about that sweet, little voice begging for me to let you touch yourself. Think about me fucking that throat raw. Think about the way you’d sound pleading for me to make it better.”

“Make it better, Harry, please,” you reply instantaneously, giving him exactly what he wants. 

You’re rewarded with another breathy moan that drives your own fingers in further.

“Please,” you repeat. “Please make it better…need you, Harry, please—”

“Fucking hell, lovie. Don’t—” he warns, “—shit, don’t do this to me. Not when I can’t be there to do something about it—”

“Maybe you should be,” you say before you can stop yourself. “Maybe I was meant to get your number instead of Bryce’s.”

“Braden,” Harry corrects, and you smile weakly.

“Yeah, whatever.” You squirm a bit harder. “Maybe it was always meant to be you. Maybe this is how we find each other.”

“Through cheese puns and phone sex?” he teases, but you can tell he hardly has the strength.

“Yeah.” You tug on your lip so hard, you can taste the blood. “Don’t think I’ve ever found someone so good for me.”

Another groan. “Wanna be good for you, angel. Wanna be bad, too. Wanna give you everything. Wanna fucking ruin you for everybody else. Especially Braden.”

You’re so close. So fucking close and it’s all his fault. “Then give me everything, Harry, please. Need to hear you come for me…gotta hear it. Please.”

And it takes a minute, maybe two, but eventually the sound does come (and so does he), and it’s everything.

Deep, and long, and so fucking depraved. It’s everything you’d needed to kickstart your own, and the second that wave begins to rush over you…everything stops.

You disappear into him. Into his sounds. Into yourself. It’s long and it’s beautiful and it’s so much more intense than the one you’d had last night.

It’s so fucking perfect, and the sounds of your pleasure mix together through the phone as your entire living room fills with soft pants and erotic whimpers.

Neither of you speak for quite some time as you slow the thrusting of your fingers before pulling out completely. 

Just for him, you take another taste, tongue lapping at your knuckles as you sigh blissfully, and he laughs through a pained grunt.

“Fucking minx,” he chastises. “Never needed to taste something so badly.”

“Guess that makes two of us.”

You hear another smile and some shuffling. “I’d let you have whatever you want. A taste, a snack, a fucking full course meal. Whatever you wanted, I’d give you.”

���I bet you would,” you agree gently. “You’d be so good for me.”

“Be anything you want me to be.”

“Just not good at puns.”

He laughs a little louder now, and you’re almost thrilled to know you can return to your previous rapport with no consequences. “How about I make you a deal, then? I’ll work on my puns…if you promise you’ll be here to listen to them.”

“Always,” you say without thinking, smiling yourself. “I mean, did you really think this was just one and done?”

“Was hoping not,” he admits, and you hear the sound of his buckle as he begins to put himself back together. “Honestly, I’m already thinking about the next time.”

“Me, too.”

He chuckles. “I hate to rush off, but if I don’t get back to the meeting, it’ll be a whole thing.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.” You smirk. “I gotta get to fixing your Girl Scout cookie order anyhow.”

“Amazing,” he replies. “Thought you’d forget.”

“Never.”

With that, you exchange your goodbye’s, and finally hang up the phone.

And you go about the rest of your day, tending to your work, and taking care of your dead plant as the post-orgasm haze continues to wash over you.

But something tells you…

You haven’t heard the last of Harry.

Next part! ~ iFall for Harry pt. 5

Previous parts:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 1

~ iFall for Harry pt. 2

~ iFall for Harry pt. 3

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ First kiss — JJK Men

Synopsis:- first kiss hcs! I mean…we all love ourselves some first timers so <3 based on this request from @myrand0mfand0mbl0g (thank you sweets)

— word count: 2.8k

— A/n: as someone whose personally still never had her first kiss, I am purely writing fiction. So if the wetness of your lips or the softness is exaggerated, bear with me. Unless you wanna help me gain experience ;)

— Tw: Jjk Men (Gojo Satoru; Geto Suguru; Nanami Kento x reader [separately]); pure fluff; established relationship in Gojo’s part; mentions of kissing suguru in Gojo’s part; height and smn smn; not proof read; mentions of Baking Nanami’s part; a little like very little suggestive(?)

Gojo Satoru:

Fireworks. Kisses with Satoru could be defined as nothing less than that, and nothing more. First kiss from your true love causes sparks they say, i wouldn’t be too sure but it was in the way his hand pulls you closer by the waist, in the way his eyes scanned yours—in the way he smiles mid-way through the kiss, to pull away to breathe— only to kiss you again, harder—something about it screams fireworks. In the way Satoru’s hand squeezes yours, oh so gentle in the way he holds you- almost afraid that he might hurt you. You can feel it still, the infinity around him—daunting so beautifully and enveloping you, compassing you and him as one. And don’t get me wrong, he makes sure every kiss of yours is the same, but it was in the way he tucked your hair behind you ear- the chilly wind and the night sky full of firecrackers—in that way that your first kiss did actually feel like fireworks.

“Satoru,” you mused, smile playing on your lips as you stared at the sky, it was empty still, the evening lay young and bare—but not for long. And aided by your boyfriend, you just happened to find yourself at the topmost point of the entire town—to earn yourself the best view of the fireworks.

“Hm?” You hear him hum, your eyes trained themselves on the sky, to catch the first firecracker go off-his trained on your to catch your smile.

“How did you find out about this place?” You inquired, genuine curiosity—“Don’t go worrying about that,” he chuckled, doing nothing more but to fuel your curiosity.

“Hey, c’mon,” you laughed out, face now fully turned towards him, “we don’t keep secrets right?” Of course you didn’t, not when Gojo Satoru was already whipped for you and the relationship was only so old as 5 dates and a month and a half.

“That we don’t,” he grinned, “but do we really want to ruin the moment? Let’s just watch the fireworks, no?” His eyes no more seemed to meet yours, making you chuckle—“Hey, tell me already,” you called out and he laughed.

“Very persistent that you are,” he smiled as his form moved closer to yours, “had I known you were this stubborn I’d never ask you out,” your jaw dropped at his words and you laughed out—“jerk,” you muttered punching his arm, his infinity long forgotten around you.

A sweet silence, an intelligent silence and he sighed, “you want to know?”

You nodded quick, all too quick, he grinned, “Say please,” it was all for passing time you supposed, so long as it was time we’ll spent.

“Please,” you said instantly, not one to mind his annoyance—which sometimes annoyed him because nothing he did seemed to get to you ever, a love hate situation it induced for him.

“I brought someone very special here once, the prettiest black hair and the sexiest body,” he grinned, his words catching your attention all too quick- involuntarily, the list of his exes (not many or barely any) running through your mind, “and the smoothest voice—they brought me here. And we just happened to, now don’t you get mad, share a kiss here.”

You didn’t mind at all, of course not, until the gears in your brain worked and you realised the person was none other than Suguru, your eyes widened and you laughed.

“Am I being told that you’ve had your first kiss with Suguru and not me?” You asked, tone bordering that of mock anger- he laughed, “Didn’t think you’d catch on all so quick,” his grin widened.

“Don’t you change the topic, you home-wrecker,” you called out and pulled him closer, by his collar, he let himself be simply moved.

“Wanna know how we kissed?”

“Was it genuine?” You asked quietly, not one to mind but interested nevertheless- he snorted, “of course not,”

“Mhmm,” A chuckle here and a laugh there— “I mean I wouldn’t blame you, he’s hot,”

“Excuse me?”

Another chuckle here and a laugh there.

“Yeah, wanna know how?” His breath tickled your face, that close he stood—fingers dancing along the waistline of your dress.

You smiled, so persistent, more than you, “maybe,” you mumbled— “Hm?” And these were moments where you hated him. Those pretend “Hm?”s which made you repeat your statement, the warmth in your cheeks spreading.

“Yes, I wanna know.”

And that was all that was need, a hand quick, a pull swifter- the proximity itself fastened your heart beats.

“This close,” he began, “this close we stood,”

“Toru’” you interrupted, “the works are about to begin,”

nervous, were you? Perhaps.

He hummed in response—“you wanna watch?”

This time the hum was yours—and the cheeky grin, his.

Before you could register, even consider the possibility, he’d turned you around once again, this time, his back facing the silent air, your body slightly hoisted—pulling you closer still—just enough for you to open your eyes and be able to see everything behind him.

And just then, he smiled—“can I kiss you?” He let the question hang in the air—knowingness the answer all too well.

But the first show- you wanted to complain—but your lips moved quicker, “yes,” falling off them all too quick.

The kiss was sudden, not expected, never expected this way, with his fingers tucking the stray hair of yours behind your ear, fingers lingering a little too long along your jaw—waiting, waiting for the perfect moment—caught in the moment. Your legs were wrapped around his torso then, his weight supporting yours oh so easily and he grinned, pressing quickly, his lips to yours.

Sudden.

Too quick. Your eyes remained open for a second too long and the second lay long enough for you to watch, as they let go of first firework of the night.

Geto Suguru:

Kool Aid Icicles . Kisses with Suguru have to be Cold—refreshing, sudden and nostalgic. In the way that every time you kissed, he’d make sure that the smoke that usually lingered his breath was minimal—carrying at all times with him a mint. Kisses with Suguru aren’t cute, but a constant—they’re not always deep nor passionate, at least not every time, but they’re necessary—for you and him. But it was something different in the way you first kissed—curiosity, you suppose, is the best of human emotions. It was in the way December was itching into January and in the way an icicle is not what most people would advise you to have—but they wouldn’t advise you to spend your nights all awake with Geto Suguru either. It was in the way you’d grabbed his favourite flavour and he’d grabbed yours, in the way his fingers had pulled your chin closer, only to taste what was his.

“Blue Raspberry and Tropical Punch” the shop owner had muttered, tired—you’d mused, “That’s my favourite,” Suguru grinned as he paid for the icicles—“wait,” you grinned back, “mine too.”

That was all it took to elicit another giggle from the both of you—as you had been for the past evening, laughing and giggling at anything and everything, as two classmates, best friends, do.

“I’ll take that one then,” he began, he was quick to mark down but not quick enough for your fingers had already grabbed his favourite, “Nu uh,” you smirked, “that’s mine tonight.”

You watched him raise a brow, “ok, weirdo,” he muttered as he grabbed your favourite—his was red, yours was blue.

You laughed as you tore the wrapper and licked on his- your icicle.

He did the same, shooting you a glare every once a while as you two walked back to his dormitory, where you would simply crash in for the night—“Have you done the homework?” You asked, hoping to copy his, “I was planning to copy yours,” he confessed with a bashful grin.

You chuckled, “idiot,”

“That would be you,”

You found yourself lightly slapping his arm and he found himself wrapping his arm around your shoulder—“S’getting cold no?” He spoke, letting silence befall his words—“Yet we’re eating icicles,” you added quietly—“wonder why,”

“Why,” Suguru echoed, “Human nature,” he smirked, “to do exactly what we aren’t supposed, curious to see consequences we don’t have to,” his words, on the usual annoyed you often, too hypothetical, too deep, and the case was very much the same this time around—“Wannabe,” you muttered and grinned.

You chuckled as he smacked your head, not saying much—and you let your eyes dart past the many shops—all closed, the street lit up only by the street lamps- “But I get it,” you began, “We shouldn’t be doing this either,”

His smile reached you in your peripheral view—“why?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, “not like we’re doing anything bad,” maybe it was the way he spoke, or maybe it was the way he held you close—held you safely that would’ve made you feel fine even if you were doing something bad.

“No of course not,” you giggled, “two teenagers just shifting through the street at…” you checked your watch, “…1:22 a.m.”

He giggled back—“don’t see no issues, darling,”

And in that moment, you did in fact thank him internally for at least his words warming your face all so quick had some use to it.

You both walked in silence there on, just a little more and you’d have reached his dorm—he’d sleep on the couch as usual—ever the sworn gentleman with you—“I want my icicle back,” you heard him mumble, almost a whine.

“What?” You brows furrowed—“it’s mine,” you whined back.

“No it’s not,” he chuckled, “this,” he poked out his tongue to show how reddened the icicle had gotten it, “is yours,”

You couldn’t help but poke your own tongue out then, “and this is yours?” You asked innocently, not realising the implication, causing him to smirk, “yes I’d like so think so, yes,”

You hummed, “you can have a taste,” you mumbled, looking at him as you both halted, “I can?” He raised a brow, “Yeah,” you nodded.

Silence.

He chuckled, “I do wanna taste it so…” he leaned in, subsequently you began raising your icicle upto his mouth—“No,” he stated, looking directly into yours eyes, “I wanna taste it,” he repeated—and finally, things came crashing down on you.

“Oh,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the hem of his jacket—the one he let you wear to shield you from the cold—“It’s nothing bad, you know?” He whispered, stepping in close, “It’s nit something you’re supposed to do either so feel free to say no,” he comforted, a tone fully respectful.

“I know,” you nodded, “makes me want to do it all the more,” you smiled nervously, “you’ve turned me into a poetic wannabe like you,” you grinned, “shut up,” he smiled back.

“In the name of curiosity,” you whispered as you got on your tip toes, causing him to chuckle, “yeah? And what are we discovering?” His voice, somehow, softer than yours—“if the red on your tongue and the blue on mine will make a purple or no,” he laughed quietly, his hand on your waist, holding you close- “Directly for the tongue? You’re so dirty,” he grinned and just then, he leaned in.

His hands cupped your face softly, gently, before his fingers roughly tilted your face towards him- the chill of the night had you shivering, but he held you and just then you realised that Suguru’s kisses were colder than kool aid Icicles — but his touch was searing hot and his breathless smile was utterly beautiful.

Nanami Kento:

Freshly baked banana bread. Kisses with Kento were nothing if not warm and a little sweet. It was no secret to anyone that Kento loved bakery items, all the more so, he loved freshly baked goods and cherry on top would be if you baked it. They say first kisses from your true love feels like home and nothing ever felt more like home when you were the one to bake him his mom’s special banana bread. It was sweet in the way he was hesitant, nervous, awkward—larger hands placing you on the counter—pinning you there. It was mayhaps in the way his hands managed to drop the bag of chocolate chips down when you kissed back—or mayhaps the way his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he leaned in more so. You weren’t sure to what it was, but kisses with Kento were always sweet and soft- much like the banana bread you baked.

“How much flour are you putting?” His voice was gruff, annoyed, quiet.

You remained silent—you had never baked with measurements and today was not the day that you would change—“you’ve already messed up the sugar proportion, just—”

“—Shut up,” you snapped, “your mother cooked with respect which is why it always tasted good but right now, love is the last thing on my hands,” and his just so happened to lock upon the knife in your hands- enough to quieten him down.

You rolled your eyes, he rolled his- “have you at least greased the pan?”

“I thought you would!”

A sharp inhale, sharper exhale — “What would you like me to order tonight?” Your work colleague asked, piquing your interest—“what?” The hands which were busy mixing the batter now stared at him, “because you know, I’m not eating that,” he replied.

Had you nit been annoyed up till then, be assured that he certainly got your blood boiling now.

But you smiled, ever so sarcastically.

“A little bit of rat poison for you please?” You quirked, a subtle smile lining your face— he raised a brow, “why? Aren’t you as a snake well enough?”

Your jaw dropped.

“Once,” you chuckled, exasperation getting the better of you, “once i snipped to Satoru that you practice kissing on your mirror and you hold it against me for 7 years, pathetic,”

You weren’t so sure, over the slow hum of the oven but maybe he chuckled—“a snake nonetheless,”

“Why’d ya get the snake to bake your mom’s special bread huh?” You edged, teasing him all the more—“the snake just so happens to be a talented snake, so why not?”

And you found yourself giggling, “alright then, mr.rat,” you chuckled at your own joke, “the batter’s done—get me the mould,”

Kento looked at you—despite his rude words and a usually mean demeanour, he grinned and the grin which lay all too close to that of a cute puppy—“here,” he handed you the mould, and you took note of the flour coating his fingers—from the little “flour fight” you had earlier- evidence of which lay the messy kitchen and the flour in both of yours’ hair.

You began pouring the batter in when suddenly—“wanna taste the batter?”

“Huh?” A head tilt he passed, brows furrowed, “sure,”

Now, Nanami expected a lick from a spoon but when he saw you dipping your finger in, his eyes widened all too much—and yet, deny you, he wouldn’t.

You raised your hand, finger coated in your the bread’s batter, urging him to lick it—“although I might’ve fucked your mom’s recipe here and there—you owe me a kiss if it tastes like hers,”

You laughed and he did too, innocent joke—of course your batter tasted nothing like hers, yours wasn’t made with love like hers.

So amidst his chuckle he kicked your finger, shock coating his face right after.

“What?” You asked, concerned—“did I put salt instead?” Your mind was frantic, his eyes more so, “No,” he muttered, confused, “how does it taste just like hers?” He mumbled to himself.

“What?” It was your turn now—“no way,” you chuckled—only to mirror his expression after tasting it.

And behold your surprise for it did in fact taste just like his mom’s infamous banana bread- despite the guesstimated measurements and when all was said and done, the batter placed in to bake—realisation settled in.

A blush crept on your face, and his did too—“the bread…think it’ll be good,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t remember your comment.

And in all honesty, Kento didn’t want to remember it either—but he would damned if he let go of a chance such to kiss you—“I owe you something,” he stated.

Your lips pursed— but not in annoyance, for maybe just maybe, a mutual pining was finally obvious to both of you and not just your friends—“yeah,” you whispered back.

He stepped closer, all too close but nothing you’d stop, “c’mere,” he called out as you found his hands lifting you up and placing you on the counter—“where would you like it?” He asked, a smile inevitable—his grip on the chocolate chip bag, he was in the middle of removing it to make space for you.

“Don’t fucking tease me,”

A smirk and then a kiss, you pulled him in close—his eyes wide when your lips placed themselves upon his—then then shut tight as his fingers drew circles on your back, breaking the kiss only to breathe — you smiled, noticing how low his glasses had slipped and in that moment, he found you sweeter than his mom’s freshly baked banana bread.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting. Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[owlphibiansprite]

the moment i started shipping kabumisu (spoilers ahead for chapters 45-62)

okay. this is gonna be a long one.

you'd think i'd be reasonable and start shipping these two characters from the moment they spend time alone in the dungeon, right? wrong. like the unreasonable guy i am, i saw them both placed a certain way and my brain went "shipped." let me explain.

chapter 45. this is the first time they interact. i wasn't thinking much at this point, but i just wanted to point out this frame because it looks damn cool (and i wanna maybe trace it on paper)

chapter 54 mithrun notices kabru has skill for the first time. at this point i didn't think much more than "oh he's looking at him."

kabru notices mithrun (or maybe he's just shocked about the water; i decided nonetheless to add this.) not much to report yet either on my personal feelings at this point.

and then this happens. first off i was thinking about kabru saving others without thinking but that's another subject. then i saw mithrun was LEANING BACK on kabru whilst between his legs and the gentle way he held his wrist for support i was like huh??! am i supposed to be getting homoerotic subtext from this? i was... intrigued. a little ship bell went off in my head, but there was no ripeness to it yet. not ready to be plucked.

like look at this in closeup please

then can we get this whole ass frame. where we clearly see how close they are physically. from that point on i thought "lol if this goes on i might crackship them haha blush" i mean their body position makes them look like they could be on a casual date (hands on thighs hands on thighs hands-)

and then THIS pat pat head yes good boy smart boy i see how you have excellent perception skills, let us work together to fight this monster do what i say now also just situationally i was kinda awed because not a moment ago they were kinda distrustful on edge but here immediately mithrun makes a plan involving kabru (no, not the other elves, but kabru) to take down the monster together & puts trust in him & idk i think two characters fighting together always feels intimate to me in a way (not necessarily romantic or anything); like characters are familiar with each other

"pat"

chapter 55 nothing special but i like the way they look at each other here even if there is no romantic or erotic tension or anything. maybe i just like the art of this.

i mean i know they're on a pillar but look at how close they are

just look at the way mithrun is being held and tell me that if taken out of context these images don't scream homoeroticism. and yes, this is the moment i decided to ship them.

(again, taken out of context) mithrun looks like the husband silently threatening whoever kabru is arguing with

and now this. this. look at this beautiful piece of art. look at how falin holds sissel(thistle). there is tenderness in that grip; protection. then above them you see kabru's self-protection in holding mithrun hostage yet the picture as a whole immediately made me think of "the lovers" archetype. duality. being held. idk. but seeing this was powerful.

mithrun tries to free himself from kabru's grip, the way he is held is constricing. yet if you changed the way you look at it, it could be perceived as holding on to a lover for dear life as you both tumble to your death. is that what the mangaka intended?? i am not one to usually read much into symbolism or stuff if i'm just casually reading - and i certainly don't know anything about art or literary symbolism - but all these thoughts immediately sprung out to me. these panels made me feel something so intense. (exquisite art, really!!)

so this is how i started shipping kabumisu. once i got to chapter 61 and realised "oh DAMN they will actually be spending one-on-one time together?" i was pleasantly surprised and knew i would not be alone in shipping them.

that is all :3 thank you for reading if you got this far!

[stardustluvs]

First Time - Sam Golbach (Headcanons)

MDNI || KINKTOBER

Pairing: Sam Golbach x male!Reader

Summary: Sam really likes you, and he thinks he’s ready for that next step, but the problem is, is that he’s never done anything with another guy before. Here’s some headcanons :)

Warnings: NSFW

Author's Note: It’s now two weeks into kinktober! I’m having SO much fun with my first kinktober that I’m actually writing for!

Requests are open! || masterlist || kinktober m.list

He’d be like really fucking nervous

He wouldn’t wanna mess up

Would prefer to bottom, honestly

It’s the first time he’s ever even experimented with another guy, sexuality wasn’t something he questioned until he met you

He’d ask you to be gentle with him

He’d be screaming (/pos) by just your fingers

“Please, Y/N, I need more…”

He’d ask if he could touch himself, and how could you deny that?

His eyes would roll back as you pushed yourself into him slowly

He honestly probably wouldn’t last that long

He tries to push his hips closer to yours as you thrust into him

You’d probably have to physically hold him still

He’s like extremely sensitive, everywhere

When you hit his prostate he could’ve swore he saw stars

He would absolutely beg you to keep going

“Fu-uck..Y/N do that again, please-”

It was the hardest he’d had ever came, like ever

Afterwards he would be so worn out and tired

Would cuddle up next you and fall asleep while you get him cleaned up

If he somehow didn’t end up falling asleep, he would’ve wanted to go sit in a bath with you

100% would tell you how good it made him feel

Would also 100% tell Colby about it (I am not wrong)

[mlmxreader]

Forgiveness Comes Easy | Kili x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hii so this is my first request. Please feel free to ignore this if you don't wanna write it

Soo uhmm I saw that you write for kili and I wanted to ask if you could write something where like the reader (gender neutral) is in a relationship with kili and they are jealous(or smth) of the way tauriel speaks with him (like in the prison/dungeon scene)

Again, feel free to ignore this if you don't like this ❞

: ̗̀➛ Kili can sometimes make you jealous, and he can sometimes make you angry, but you'll always forgive him at the end of the day, especially when he makes you laugh.

: ̗̀➛ jealousy

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You could not help but to glare and scowl as you looked at Kili, thinking about how he used to look at you like that; big brown eyes and his eyebrows slightly raised.

The gaze itself was so soft and inviting, so warm it could melt steel with just a few seconds.

You could not fathom why he would look at her like that - granted, she was gorgeous and brave and intelligent. She was all but perfect in every which way that you could ever think of; yet the way that Kili looked at her was making your stomach churn.

He used to look at you like that, with his gorgeous dark eyes so warm and gentle. His hands were so careful despite the fact that he had so many calluses that his hands felt rough at every inch. Skin made of raw iron, and cool steel for bones.

You used to think that you were his, that he had promised you his heart just as you had promised him your own; although you could see, now, that maybe only you kept that end of the bargain.

You had long thought, that with Thorin’s blessing, Kili would be as loyal to you as you had always been to him; but the way that he looked at her, and the clumsy deftness of his fingers when he passed his mother’s stone to her, it made you clench your jaw as you shook your head.

Unable to do anything but to huff and slink to the back of the cell, staring at the cold blueish grey stone walls; how they refracted with pale cyan and gentle ash colours.

You folded your arms across your chest tightly, a slight pout mixing with your frown as you did your best not to snap at Kili and demand that he shut up.

But you must have gotten your wish, as you heard him stop talking; heavy footsteps soon followed, and before you could snap at him, he was kneeling in front of you, dark spots on his trousers where his knees became damp.

You looked at him, mapping out his features for a moment before turning your head; your face met the cold, damp stone and you huffed again as you frowned. Kili cleared his throat, nudging your knee gently but getting no response. He tilted his head to the side, frowning as he knocked you again; still no response.

“Come on,” Kili sighed, squirming to sit between your legs. “What’s wrong? You can talk to me. Was it something I said?”

You scowled again as you looked at him at last, shaking your head and trying to ignore the deep, deep urge to snap at him; to scream and shout at the top of your lungs until he finally got the message.

But you could only sigh, licking your lips as you swallowed thickly. “Why do you expect me to be loyal when you can’t be?”

He furrowed his brows as he looked at you, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. “Pardon?”

“You,” you whispered harshly. “Tauriel is a fine, fine Elf but if you are going to go with her, at least tell me so I’m not following you around like a lost pup for no reason.”

For a moment, he gawked and stared at you, but then a grin came to his face as he cleared his throat and tried not to laugh. “Is that jealousy I smell on your breath?”

“No!” You snapped, the word coming out a little harsher than intended and echoing loud enough to make you wince and cringe. “No, I am not.”

Kili let out a soft laugh, trying to disguise it as a hum, and tapped your knees. “You are, aren’t you? Oh, dear, that-”

“Do not mock me,” you hissed, getting up and sitting over by the bars. “Do not even speak to me.”

He was relentless, coming to sit beside you with his head on your shoulder; that warm and sweet gaze on you as he smiled and tapped your hand so softly, taking it into his own and allowing his fingers to intertwine with yours.

“You’re right about one thing - Tauriel is a fine Elf… but she isn’t for me. I’m just trying to make an alliance, that’s all.”

“Since when were you so diplomatic?” You grumbled, refusing to look at him.

Kili gently squeezed your hand, letting his voice drop so that he was almost whispering under his breath. “Since there was someone who mattered more than a good scrap… I never meant to make you jealous, and I never meant to make you doubt how I feel for you - and only you, mind - either… I’m sorry… please stop sulking, I don’t like it when you sulk…”

You didn’t want to forgive him so easily, you really didn’t, but you knew that he was more than sincere about his words, and you knew that he meant every single one and would stand by them until the end of time; so you sighed, and gave his hand a little squeeze to let him know that you weren’t so angry about it that you would always give him the cold shoulder.

“Am I forgiven?” He asked softly, quietly.

You hummed, daring to smile a little, which only made him laugh and grin as he knew that he was off of the hook. “I s’pose. I can’t stay angry with you forever, now, can I?”

“Not until we’re married,” he pointed out. “Then you can stay angry with me all you like.”

You couldn’t help but to laugh, shaking your head fondly; you did notice that he never did that with anyone else - he never purposefully tried to make them laugh the way he did with you, he never tried to make a fool of himself or to tell jokes just to see them smile. You scoffed a little.

“I will hold you to that, you know,” you told him with a grin.

“I hope you do.”

[cuddlyscribe]

Yay requests are back! Can't tell ya how much I've missed your writing Hon, hope you been taking care!

Okay so back on my Kazuya train (Can't get enough of this dilf!) I wanna see him jealous! Like he has no reason to be loving femdom s/o is obviously into him and him alone but I have a need for jealous cutie, and to reassure said jealous cutie 😏😏😏 SFW and NSFW if possible please and thank you! 💙

hello my dear!! that is so kind of you to say, I've been doing well and am finally getting a chance to relax! hopefully these lil headcanons will spice up your day! 🖤

[TEKKEN MASTERLIST]

Oh man, you wanna talk jealous? I'm pretty sure that Kazuya invented the word. And if he didn't, he sure as hell owns it.

I hope that you like a jealous s/o, because when the feeling strikes him, you will know about and truly get to enjoy everything that comes with it.

Kazuya isn't aggressive with you and doesn't take anything out on you; he trusts you with his life and truly believes that you can do no wrong.

It's just other people that he does not trust. Kind of to be expected considering his experiences.

If you guys are out and jealousy starts to boil over in Kazuya, he will stand very close to you. Closer than he already was.

He will keep his hand firmly on your waist and give perhaps the most terrifying death stare to whoever has dared to invade your space.

And you won't even have to look at Kazuya to know that he's feeling jealous. All you have to do is look at how everyone else is reacting; if they're sweating, you know what's up.

But for the most part, Kazuya saves his strongest emotions for when you two are alone.

Though he could easily grab you and kiss you for everyone to see, he doesn't even think they're worthy of getting to see the two of you like that.

His vulnerability is saved only for you!

spice under the cut!

With the absolutely carnal energy that is radiating off of Kazuya, I am well and truly sure that you will be running home with excitement, LOL.

Kazuya is probably his roughest when he's jealous. Most of the time he will be as gentle as you want him to be (or not), but when he feels jealous he just has this pent up energy that he needs to express.

Please speak up if you don't like it because this man will fuck you SO hard you will be needing crutches for the rest of the week.

He will happily slam the front door shut when you get home (by some miracle it does not fly off the hinges) and bend you over the counter before you can even utter a word.

Kazuya will growl in your ear about how badly he wants you and that he's been so hard for you all night. There's no one else that can sate him, not a soul but you.

He will take his time with you, peeling each layer of clothing off so slowly that it'll have you moaning and panting for him to just hurry up...

And once you're all undressed for him, he will take you on every surface in the house. Counter's a given, dining table, bathroom sink, you name it he will fuck you against it.

He'll just kiss his way up and down your stomach and along your breasts and just revel in how you scream for him. Please tell him how good his cock is making you feel because it's all for you.

You moaning his name is all the reassurance he needs~

[thornsnvultures]

His face just says, "What's wrong, sweetheart?", to me 🥺🥺 like I want to climb in his lap and tell him all about my bad day so he can make me feel better 😩😖💞

au/no outbreak!Joel x reader, fluff, some implied nsft bits at the end

"Everything okay in there?"

You can barely hear Joel from the other room through your pulse pounding in your ears. If you slammed the door open and shut a little too hard when you came home you didn't care, you were finally home and the day couldn't be mean to you any more.

Joel was waiting for you on the couch, already setting up the movie the two of you have been wanting to watch with a fresh, delicious smelling pizza sitting on the coffee table. But you were exhausted and couldn't imagine sitting through the loud action movie with your headache right now.

"Sorry, baby, I need to go lay down," you cut Joel off before he could speak.

Joel wasn't gonna let you go just like that, not with what looked like tears threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes.

"Hey, hey, whoa," he reached out and lightly grabbed your arm before you could rush past. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

You couldn't look at him. You were standing there with your back to him, his hand insistent on your arm cause you knew if you did look you'd break down.

"Baby, please," his voice was firm but gentle, like he was afraid he'd spook you. He knew you wanted to bolt.

"It's nothing," your voice came out choked and wet which only made you more mad at yourself. You wanted to hide from him, from your feelings, from the whole damn day.

"It's not nothing. Not if it's making my babygirl feel this way. C'mon," he pats his thick, jean-clad thigh, "come sit and tell me what's got you all worked up."

You take one, big, sniffling breath and begrudgingly move onto his lap.

Joel huffs at you awkwardly sitting on one leg and pulls you all the way in so you're snuggled in close to his chest, your legs pulled up on the couch. (And your ass, quite distractingly, seated right on his crotch.)

"Talk to me," Joel rubs your cheek with a calloused thumb, sweeping up at a stray tear. You give in to the urge to rest your head on his shoulder. He smells sunwarmed and woodsy. He must've been on a jobsite today. And he still went through all this effort to make your day better. God, you wanted to cry even more.

Instead you told him everything. How your day started out so nice, so ready to be productive when you left the house today, only for your day to take a turn as soon as you got in and you realized the next 8 hours would be hell on earth. You were screamed at, called names, talked down to by your supervisor for a problem that was out of your control. Your dropped your lunch at work and hadn't had anything to eat for most of the day which only served to make you more miserable and give you a headache. And on the ride home you nearly got side-swiped by someone on their phone.

It was a mess. An all around bad day. And you felt silly for complaining about it at first, everyone had bad days and you hadn't even thought to ask how Joel's day went. But Joel sat and listened and stroked your cheek, your back, your thigh, anywhere he could reach really, and as you went on you felt the weight lifting, the heaviness of the day melting off of you as you melted into Joel.

"I'm sorry you had a rough day, sweetheart, I really am," Joel shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Next time you call me so I can bring you something to eat, okay? We're a team, I'm here for you to lean on."

You nod, sighing as you toy with the buttons on his shirt. "I know. Thank you...for listening."

"Always. No matter what happens, don't run from me, baby. I wanna hear it all."

Joel leans forward, with you still in his arms, and grabs you a still warm slice of pizza. He grabs the knit throw off the back of the couch next, tucking it around you while you nibble on cheesy heaven.

"Better?"

You smile up at him and nod as you chew and a small smile pulls at his lips and crinkles the corners of his eyes.

"Good. Now finish up your pizza. You'll need your energy up when I take you to bed, babygirl."

Joel laughs when you take an even bigger bite, your bad day already forgotten.

thank you for sending me this gif, bestie 💗💗 I needed to take my terrible day out on something lol

[icycoldninja]

Heyy how have you been? Hope everything has been going well for you!! I wanted to ask if you're able to write a Raiden X reader fic where reader comes home after a tough day at work. Wanting to unwind and relax with him, it could be fluff or whatever you want to put it! I enjoy reading what you put out here🥹🥹❤️

Sup? Thanks for your well-wishing--everything has been going well for me. I got FFVII Rebirth and am now obsessed with playing it, so I might be a little inactive for a few weeks, but don't worry, I'm still writing whenever I have time and am glad to write requests like these. I mean, come on, the concept's so cute! (I chose to write about MGR:R Raiden if that's OK with you) Thanks so much for reading, and please enjoy.

Chilling out (MGR:R!Raiden x Reader fluff)

Today had to have been one of the worst work days of you life. Your boss, who was a cranky, stingy old man to begin with, had come to work more irritated than usual. It was like he'd not only gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, but also gotten yelled at by his wife and badgered by his kids not long after.

He'd chewed out nearly everyone in your office, but seemed to be directing the brunt of his anger to you. You tried to ignore him at first, but eventually, the constant screaming and whining became too much for you. You decided to clock out early, not really caring whether or not he fired you for it--he probably wouldn't, though, given that you were one of the few hard working employees he had left.

The moment you set your foot through the door, you felt like your soul had left your body; the calm air you had put on dissipating and leaving you more exhausted and drained than you ever thought was physically possible.

"Hey, babe, welcome back." You heard the clanking of metal feet against wooden floor as Raiden, your 80% robot boyfriend, stalked up to you. "Yeah, I'm back," You sighed, setting your bags on the floor and stumbling into Raiden's outstretched arms. "You tired?" He asked, squeezing you gently, yet firmly, with his metallic limbs. "Mmhmm," You grumbled, feeling your eyelids grow heavy and lower involuntarily. "Wanna nap?" You shook your head wearily; if you took a nap now, you'd never get to sleep tonight. "Then...why don'tcha go sit on the couch and we'll watch a movie or something?" You nodded sleepily, sluggishly making your way over to the couch and collapsing onto it. Raiden followed you, sitting down on the seat next to you and picking up the remote from the coffee table.

"Got any idea what you wanna watch?" You shook your head, resting your head against the armrest. "I'll pick something then."

After a few moments of quietly scrolling through a random streaming service, Raiden settled on some kind of crime-drama and pressed play on the first episode. While the show was interesting, you weren't really invested in it. Your mind was clouded with exhaustion; your body longed for rest, but you were too stubborn to let sleep claim you.

As you struggled to keep your eyes open, you decided to slide over to Raiden and place your head on his cold metal body, which hopefully would help keep the drowsiness at bay. This plan backfired, unfortunately; the soft rumbling of the machinery within was comforting and only served to lull you to sleep faster. Before you knew it, your eyes slid shut, and try as you might, there was no fighting sleep's vise-like hold.

After the first episode ended, Raiden's gaze drifted down to your slumbering form laying on his torso. Smiling, he ran his clawed hand carefully through your hair and down your back, chuckling softly to himself as he did so. He knew he should wake you up or you'd be too energetized to sleep, but you were so adorable--surely a few minutes wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Sweet dreams, precious," Raiden whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "I love ya."

[niiine]

Idk but Taylor Swift’s Afterglow just screams Kaedehara Kazuha x Healing Reader from past traumas and red flag relationships.

°DRABBLE°

Imagine self-sabotaging your relationship with KAZUHA because you keep thinking that no man on earth is as kind and as loving as him, that he only wants you for his own benefits. That he's not really in love with you.

There's you, thinking that you're not so worthy of his affection so you end up ignoring the lad. He can't fool me. You thought, determined that whatever he is showing you is a unreal— a façade. And you avoiding him just tears his world apart so he confronts you. Eyes gleaming with longing and hurt. "Are you not satisfied with me, Dove?"

"No. No, you don't get it" you whispered, eyes anywhere but the crimson ones. His eyes always scares you. You love his orbs, please don't get me wrong. You love how fiery and burning it is, you keep comparing it to polished rubies but then his hues always ends up more beautiful. It's just that you think it held oceans of lies to hurt you.

"Then explain it to me, please" Kazuha took your hands in his. How much he he adores your gentle digits and soft palms, you'll never know. Your touches is everything to him.

"It's you who aren't satisfied with me" his forehead folds into lines as curiosity flooded his mind— Archons, what did he do to make you feel such farce? "And how can you say that?" He asked you with a voice of an angel looking for love.

"Because—Because I know I'm not enough," you started. Hiccups heard at the back of the crux. "I can't be enough for you Kaedehara." He winced at the use of his last name. "So please, make it easier for me and just say that you're not really into me. Let's break up." Kazuha's face contorts into that of hurt and betrayal.

But then, he knows you. He knows that it's just your mind playing tricks, it's just your traumas saying things. It's not you, it's not his beloved.

"No." Ugh, you hate how love drunk his crimson eyes are, you hate how he grips your hands tightly, how he looks at you as if he can't live without you. And you hate, hate, hate how much you love all of it at the same time, because what if they're all travesty?

"I love you, (name)."

You turned towards him, and suddenly you're reminded of how messed up your head is. You love this man so much and you'd rather drown than hurt him. But that's exactly what you're doing right now.

"So no, I am not going to let you leave me."

You whimpered and he took you into his arms. "And I am going to show you just that until you believe me."

This was supposed to be just a short drabble but I can't help it. I hope The Hat Thief will have his rerun on 3.8 🥺 >> Please discuss this with me if you have speculations or leaks. I just wanna know.

[https-sonshine]

Hi I am a fan of yours writing.

Can I request reader comforting sonny after he lost a match? I feel sad seeing him getting frustrated playing with that mask. Especially at today match with Aston Villa. I wanna hug and comfort him so bad because I can feel his frustration from the screen. So, yea can you please write for that scenario? It would be better if it starts with angst and ends with fluffy fluff.

Thanks in advance. And I will keep supporting your work. ✨🫶🏻

authors note: heyy sorry for the long wait. I've been swamped with schoolwork. also tysm messages like that really do make my day <3 . i would also like to apologise to everyone who has sent in requests, but I'm going to be really busy with med school interviews as well as school so i'll be taking longer to answer them. anyways i kinda rushed this whilst trying not to fall asleep but i hope you enjoy it!!

word count: approx 1.3k

warnings: none just a lil angst, fluff , not proofread

_______________________

There was something off about your boyfriend. You couldn't put my finger on it, but he seemed distant. As the weeks went by, it became clear that Sonny was dealing with a deep-rooted issue, but without having explored the matter with him, you felt helpless and disconnected. You knew he still hadn't recovered from his injury. You could tell he was in pain and that it was taking a toll on his mental and emotional health. Despite your efforts to get him to open up, he didn't want to talk about it. He made it clear that he wanted to deal with it alone. So, instead of pressing the matter, you chose to be there for him in whatever way you could.

It seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but in hindsight, you can't help but feel that had you pursued the conversation more, you wouldn't be watching Sonny rip his protective mask off his face in frustration. It was 18 minutes into the match, and everything was going wrong. From sloppy passes to gaps within their defence, there was no chemistry left on the pitch, and the team seemed to be playing without a sense of unity. Once the final whistle blows, he breathes heavily as beads of sweat drip down the outside of his face.

He takes losing personally. As an attacking midfielder, it's his job to set his teammates up for success on the pitch, but today, he could have done it better. His frustration causes him to distance himself from his teammates so he doesn't say something he will regret in the heat of the moment, as he reflects that the game was in his hands and he fell short. You held your arms out for a hug. What you didn't expect, though, was to be walked past. Straight past. There was not a single glance in your direction. Completely ignored. Your face dropped along with your arms. Thousands of thoughts race through your mind as you turn around to watch him storm, his face hidden from everyone around him.

You follow him, intent on getting to the bottom of his frustration. You catch up with him, standing before him with a soft voice.

"you did amazing, Sonny." You tried to put your hand on his shoulder.

You looked at him as he shrugged you away with teary eyes at the loss of the year's first match. 

"Stop, I don't need you to say that, okay?"

You nodded softly as you sat beside him, as he leaned against the wall, saying, "it wasn't your fault."

"Why, why did we lose" he yelled, and you put an arm around his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, unsure of what to say. 

He grabbed your wrist, anger running through him as he spoke coldly, "Just leave. I don't need this right now." You were taken aback by the sudden outburst of emotion and the grip he had on your wrist 

"Son-"

"You're always so clingy, let me just live in peace for once. "He screamed at your face, his grip becoming tighter and tighter. 

It was time for a wake-up call. You'd had enough. 

"How long are you going to feel sorry for yourself? Despite the difficult situation, it is important to remember that feeling sorry for yourself will not help you improve," you said firmly. 

You knew his situation was difficult, and it seemed like nothing you could do would make him happy. 

"You were recently injured, Son. You're not even fully healed; you can't possibly expect yourself to be at your best. You think your frustration isn't affecting your game? Because everyone could tell you weren't yourself today. And it's okay not to be okay. You don't have to hide it. Not from me. Never from me." 

You've done this many times before. Calling him out for his own mistakes and explaining to him the things he should be doing to fix them, especially when it comes to accepting a lost game.

You knew your words stung, but they were said out of love. 

He slowly slid down the wall, back against its rough surface. And he just sat there.

His head in his hands, shoulders slumped, and eyes cast down. The silence was deafening, and you suddenly felt a surge of guilt crash you. He feels someone sitting next to him as he slumps against the wall. As the silence lingered, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and a voice soothingly whispering in his ear.

 "'Sonny", you whisper softly, placing your small hand over his. "Please look at me."

He obliges, and when you see the frustrated tears running down his face, a pang of guilt shoots through your heart. 

You'll simply pull him into you, letting his head rest in the crook of your neck as you rub his back comfortingly. 

"I'm not good enough." You held his other hand, motivating him to continue.

"I'm 30, I'm not getting any younger, and I haven't reached my potential. I couldn't even help my team. I kept getting blocked out by their defenders. I'm no use. I went from winning the golden boot last season to barely scoring this season. And then there was this injury, which was such a setback now I can't even see who is next to me with that stupid mask. The fans hate me. I should just quit." He ranted, his temper growing with each word 

You decided to wait a minute before responding, giving him a chance to breathe.

 But after a few moments of silence, he seemed to take a step back as if he were rethinking what he had just said.

"I don't agree," you said, hoping he would listen.

He looked up at you, only to see you staring back with a comforting yet stern expression. 

"Huh?"

You saw Son's tear-stained, confused face, looking at you with big eyes.

"Every single thing you just said is completely wrong."

 Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to explain,

"You want to help your team? There is something you can do - use this difficult situation as an opportunity for growth. Your team could benefit from taking this moment to reflect on how they can better collaborate and strengthen their relationships with one another. Football is a team sport. Blaming yourself isn't going to solve anything. You need to believe in yourself the way I believe in you."

You ruffled his hair and wiped his tears away.

"You don't have to become insecure cause of what people say. I know that sometimes it can feel like the world is against you, but people are always going to talk. But they're not you; they don't know what it's like. The struggles, the efforts and the time you put in. You have an entire team of people by your side who will have your back throughout your career. You have me by your side for life, where I'll be cheering for you with all I've got."

"And don't even think about quitting. They all need you to be on the team. Not because they need you to win games but because playing football makes you happy. " You shot him an angry look. He knew you were right, but he was so frustrated with the current situation. Still, he couldn't help but smile at your words and scoffed before hugging you.

You both stayed like that for a long time, neither of you wanting to let go. The comfort you found in each other's embrace was irreplaceable. As you hugged, the feelings of pain and hurt seemed to lessen a bit. You ran your fingers through Sonny's hair, breathing in his scent. Your heart ached for his pain, and you wished you could take it away. 

"You are capable of greatness, Sonny, and I hope you remember that no matter what." 

[khoipyan]

just relax, but not with me.

gn!reader x jade, floyd who promises they have the perfect face mask for them. unfortunately…

(this is sfw btw as sus as the desc. sounds💀)

warnings; just the tweels being misleading and chaotic as ever.

notes; 2nd post on my new acc after accidentally deleting it, yay… after arguing with helix (@sk2lton) about toothpaste, we finally had a conversation about face masks and how the tweels would… 😇 you can either read the fic first, or read our conversations on vaer blog!

notes2; implied romantic relationship (if you wanna see it as platonic though, i’m not stopping you)

jade leech

you’re sitting down in a chair, wondering why jade texted you and what he needed so urgently. the texts looked a bit like this:

you: jade? what did u need? and why are you texting me on at 2:34 am on a saturday… 💀

jade: Ah, well. I was trying out a new face mask recipe and I’d love for you to come over and try it.

you: it was this urgent that u couldn’t wait until i woke up….????????../><??

jade: Please? :(((((

you: fine, just this once BUT DO NOT WAKE ME UP AT 2 IN THE MORNING AGAIN FOR SHIT LIKE THIS 😭 I WAS HAVING AN AMAZING DREAM.

jade: Thank you, dear :) I will be awaiting your arrival.

-

so here you are, sitting in a chair in the dark. that is, until jade turns on a lamp in his room.

he has a brush in his right hand, and a container of… face mask in his right. you’re VERY unsure whether or not to trust him..

“jade… what is that?” you’re extremely concerned. the ‘face mask’ looks… questionable.

he smiles at you, “it’s the new face mask i’ve fabricated. there’s no turning back now, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

you want to turn back. something in his tone of voice was telling you to run away, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. well, you only live once!

“alright, just get it over with.”

you’ve never seen jade so pleased in his life.

-

“so? was it to your liking?”

everything had finally been over, and that whole experience was pretty relaxing. your skin even feels nicer and moisturized, too!

you closed your eyes in relaxation, “that was pretty nice. jade, can i know what you put in the face mask now?”

“ah, right. i shall tell you now, seeing you went along with this.” jade bent down next to your ear and whispered the ingredients in his lovely face mask.

and he had a few seconds of pleasure watching as your face went from happy-go-lucky to absolutely HORRIFIED.

jade grinned, showing off all of his sharp teeth. “oh? what’s wrong? you’re looking paler than usual, prefect.”

“i… you—! you put—… ahh.. GAH! i knew i should’ve have trusted you, you—!”

you can be as upset with him as you want (although you weren’t really, just grossed out)! but you already put the face mask on your face.

and what exactly did he put in the face mask? well, that’s for your imagination to figure out.

floyd leech

“i’m so glad you’re here, shrimpy!”

“why does your face mask look so… red?” you stare at the bowl on the counter. it’s not a gentle, rose red. no no no! it’s more of a… ‘riddle’s hair’ coloured red.

“ehh? are you doubting me?” floyd pouts, “i convinced you to come all the way here and you came here to doubt me?”

you really didn’t know if you should’ve told him the truth, “of course not! i’m not here to doubt you at all! i just hope you didn’t put anything weird in it. i know jade would have put weird things in it if i was sitting here with him…”

“well you aren’t sitting here with jade. so just trust me!” he has the brush close to your face, already having lots of the red mysterious face mask on it.

here it goes...

-

itburnsitburnsitburnsitburns—

“WAAAAAAHAAAHAHAHA—! FLOYD! YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T PUT ANYTHING WEIRD IN IT! IT BURNS…!“

“i didn’t! all i did was put a few spicy things in it and grind, like… hmmm, chili peppers. and other spicy stuff! you look so funny when you’re running around screaming, ahaha!” at this point, floyd’s laughing at your suffering for his own amusement. how cruel.

it’s not like this would do anything major to your skin, but you just hoped your face didn’t stain red at the very least. this was totally unfair though!

you had gotten most of it off your face by the time you were done scrubbing it off with water, but your face still tingled. floyd still hadn’t finished laughing at you, but you were about to make him stop.

you took the bowl and threw it at his face.

-

“little shrimp… that wasn’t very nice of you! that hurt. and my skin feels weird now.”

crossing your arms, you sighed. “should have thought of that before you decided to put the face mask on me! i was just giving you a taste of your own medicine. hmph!”

floyd beamed, satisfied with todays result. “hehe. i would do it all over again if i could.”

you couldn’t help but also smile. as painful as it was, you had to admit it was pretty fun.

— due to be edited at anytime —

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

hi rj just here to scream about domestic househusband felix. he is so gentle and i am a puddle on the floor. thanks to listening to my ted talk.

Sam. Sam, listen to me. Househusband! Lix is so personal to me.

Thoughts about him below the cut because I know I'll get carried away.

Househusband! Felix who is always eager to welcome you home from work with a hug and a kiss. Soft hands resting on your hips while he asks how your day was.

He always makes far too much food. A five course meal spread out for you on your dining table while he watches you take it all in. Preening when you praise him for making the pasta just right or how fluffy the cake he baked from scratch is.

He practically jumps at the opportunity to give you a massage when you complain about hours spent at your desk. His nimble fingers easing away all of the tension in your shoulders and deep voice rumbling behind you, you're too busy melting into his hold to pay too much attention to the exact words leaving his mouth. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, though.

You can tell something is on his mind tonight. His fingers nervously tap your thigh while the two of you cuddle in bed. You gently ask him what's wrong, what he has going on in that pretty head of his. Felix is typically an open book. It's one of your favourite qualities of his. Your husband rarely makes you guess what's on his mind. Tonight, however, he hesitates. So, you know it's serious.

What you don't expect is for him to ramble on about children. More specifically, trying for them. You both know you want them but, haven't really spoken about it much beyond that. He tells you about how seeing Chris with his children made him feel, how badly he wanted to be in his best friend's place instead.

You can't say you're all that shocked. Felix loves children and they love him. What actually surprises you is how strongly your body reacts to the thought of him with a baby. Your shared baby, to be exact. He doesn't seem to notice the way your thighs shift or your fingers digging the slightest bit more into him.

So when you roll him onto his back mid-ramble, his pretty brown eyes just blink up at you. Pink lips parted while you make yourself comfortable on his lap.

"If you wanted us to try, you could've just asked," you mutter into his ear, delighting in the way he shudders underneath you. A grin spliting your lips when you feel him growing hard, soft hands squeezing your thighs while you unconsciously grind down onto him.

"Didn't realise how badly you wanted to breed me, Lix," you practically moan, lavishing his cheek and jaw with kisses while you search for friction to soothe the burn you can feel building between the apex of your thighs. "I bet you've been touching yourself to the thought of me swollen with your baby when I'm not home," you continue, dragging one of his hands up to touch your breast through your flimsy sleeping shirt, "Wasting so much cum that you could've filled me with instead," you finish off with a faux pout down at your husband.

Tonight is the night of surprises, it seems, because Felix rolls you onto your back so quickly that you barely have time to process it before his mouth smashes into your own. Eager hands tugging your shirt up to touch you directly while he ruts his cock against your bare, soaking pussy.

"Wanna cum inside you so much, so bad," he pants against your mouth, shutting his eyes harshly before opening them to meet your own with desperation in them clear as day, "Please? Can I? May I? I'll be so good, please. Just wanna put a baby in you."

God, when he asks like that how could you ever dream of saying no?

[mutatiio]

FIVE SONGS for your muse.

i. take a bow by muse : you'll burn in hell / yeah you'll burn in hell for your sins / and our freedom's consuming itself / what we become is contrary to what we want / take a bow / death / you bring death / and destruction to all that you touch

ii. breaking the habit by linkin park : i don't know what's worth fighting for / or why i have to scream / i don't know why i instigate / and say what i don't mean / i don't know how i got this way / i know it's not alright / so, i'm breaking the habit / i'm breaking the habit tonight

iii. the bomb by florence & the machine : i've blown apart my life for you / and bodies hit the floor for you / and break me, shake me, devastate mе / come here, baby, tell me that i'm wrong

iv. back against the wall by cage the elephant : you've got my back against the wall / oh god, i ain't got no other place to hide / chained down, like a sitting duck just waiting for the fall / you know, yeah / you've got my back against the wall

v. afraid of heights by boygenius : i know that i fucked up when i / told you i'm afraid of heights / it made you wanna test my courage / you made me climb a cliff at night / you wanted me to jump and i declined / you called me a coward, i replied / i don't wanna live forever, but i don't wanna die tonight / when the black water ate you up / like a sugar cube in a teacup / i got the point you were makin' / when i held my breath 'til you came up

FIVE QUOTES for your muse.

i. that is the kind of fear that lives inside anakin skywalker: the dragon of that dead star. it is an ancient, cold dead voice within his heart that whispers all things die. . . – matthew stover, revenge of the sith

ii. anakin matched his stare. perhaps i’ll take yours. his own voice, inside his head, had a hot black fire that smoked from the depths of his furnace heart. you think you can stop me from saving my love? you think you can make me watch her die? go ahead and vaapad this, you--

“anakin,” obi-wan said softly. he gestured to an empty seat beside him. “please.”

and something in obi-wan’s gentle voice, in his simple, straightforward request, sent his anger slinking off ashamed, and anakin found himself alone on the carpet in the middle of the jedi council, blinking. – matthew stover, revenge of the sith

iii. “take it from me. please, master.” anakin wanted to fall to his knees. a deep tide of feeling, of dread, had risen up within him and choked him. he felt tears in the back of his throat. even his friend tru was afraid for him. just as ferus was. just as his own master was, the person who knew him the best. – jude watson, the moment of truth

iv. it matters little how small i am in the pool of another’s eye. it’s awe or indifference i crave. i want to be seen clearly or not at all. – ama codjoe, the bluest nude

v. a thousand emotions have swept through me to-night. i don’t comprehend half of them. – kate chopin, the awakening

tagged by: @debelltio tagging: @mayxthexforce ( obi-wan!! ) / @alootus / @jeditrash / @iniqutous / @misfittcd ( qui-gon ) / @rottingkiss ( misa )