#something to the waves. to the tips of the waves?

[gemviews]

[   RAFE CAMERON  ]         ―         OH , LITTLE MISS KOOK PRINCESS !   ━━━ PART ONE !

pairing: kook princess!black fem!reader x postseason3!rafe cameron.

summary: another party at the country club—one of your favorite spots to frequent. rafe, as usual, is there too, but this time, he’s fed up. your attitude, the one you always throw his way whenever you cross paths, has finally worn thin. but something’s different tonight. the usual playful banter between you two stops abruptly, and it pisses you off more than you care to admit. little by little, you start realizing it’s not just silence—it’s a game, and without even knowing it, you’re slowly playing right into rafe’s hands.

warnings: just pure sexual tension from rafe, craved attention from the reader. bratty x ignoring asshole.

"he’s with his coke whores again," y/n muttered, grimacing as she swirled the crystal tumbler filled with tequila and a hint of orange juice.

her two-toned, glossed lips parted slightly as she brought the thin black straw to her mouth. rafe hadn't even glanced her way after stepping into the island club, his focus elsewhere as he strode past her at the bar without so much as a nod. she had glared at him, and he had seen it—but chose to ignore her.

he did it on purpose.

now, rafe was lounging in the open seating area, his laughter echoing across the room as the usual crowd of kooks girls fawned over him, each one desperate for his attention.

they gathered around him, preening and giggling, all except y/n—the one girl who hadn’t fallen at his feet the moment she arrived in the outer banks.

that defiance had earned her the nickname "kook princess," a title once reserved for his sister, sarah cameron, before her relationship with john b. routledge became public knowledge in figure eight.

y/n, however, never seemed to care about the label, though she certainly lived up to it. her grace, her effortless elegance, and most of all, her humility—it was almost as if she hadn’t come from money at all.

and that’s exactly what infuriated rafe. how could the so-called "princess" be so kind to everyone else, yet reserve all her icy indifference for him? he wasn’t used to women turning away when he spoke to them, let alone ignoring him entirely. it gnawed at him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

rafe could feel the icy glare from y/n long before he turned his head in her direction. when he finally looked at her across the room, her bare back was to him, her posture tense, almost defiant.

what began as a passing glance quickly turned into a locked stare.

after downing her tequila sunrise, y/n moved away from the bar and drifted toward the catering area. she picked up a small slice of tiramisu, her fingers delicately wielding a plastic fork as she cut into the cake and brought a bite to her lips. she slid the fork into her mouth slowly, savoring the taste.

in rafe’s eyes, everything unfolded in slow motion. his gaze followed the curve of her toned brown legs, up to where her skinny heels wrapped around her ankles. the light pink dress she wore flared just above her thighs, its puffy hem contrasting with the way the fabric hugged her slim waist. the dress dipped low in the back, held up by thin straps—straps rafe wanted to slip off her shoulders so badly.

as y/n licked the frosting from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, rafe’s breath hitched. every bratty remark that left her mouth only made him angrier, but god, how he wanted that mouth on him.

“rafe?” one of the girls’ voices broke through the haze, snapping him out of his daze. she held up a small ziplock bag filled with a white, powdery substance, grinning. “wanna turn this club up?” she asked, her smirk full of suggestion.

surprisingly, rafe had been sober for two weeks. he sucked his teeth, battling the familiar itch crawling up his spine before waving off the offer. “not tonight,” he muttered, excusing himself from the group with a forced smile.

meanwhile, y/n, having noticed him staring earlier, mentally rolled her eyes. with unnecessary force, she stabbed her fork into the middle of the tiramisu, leaving the plate behind on the catering table before spinning around with attitude, as if anticipating rafe’s approach. she knew he was creeping closer, just like always.

there he was. rafe wore that same cocky smirk she’d always wanted to slap off his face. “nice dress,” he teased, letting his fingers graze the puffy hem of her dress. “didn’t know you were attending an elementary school graduation.”

before he could pull away, y/n swatted his hand, her glare sharp enough to cut. “oh, mr. cameron,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “shouldn’t you be on your third line of coke by now? or are we saving the overdose for later?”

rafe’s jaw clenched at her words, his jawline sharpening as he swallowed down the sting of her remark. she always knew exactly where to hit, and he hated how much it got to him. “okay, princess,” he bit out, the usual arrogance in his tone replaced with something heavier, something resigned.

y/n’s perfectly arched brows furrowed in confusion. usually, rafe would fire back with something about her mother marrying into money or call her a skank in front of everyone. but this? this felt different. and for a moment, it threw her off her game.

her eyes darted around him, tracking his every movement as the tall frame of his body loomed over her, casting a shadow that seemed to shrink the space between them.

without breaking eye contact, rafe reached behind y/n, effortlessly grabbing the tiramisu she had abandoned on the table. the subtle scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne filled the air as he leaned in closer, brushing the edge of her personal space.

despite the intimidating stance he held, y/n refused to back down. “okay, princess?” she repeated, her voice laced with a dry laugh.

“don’t tell me you’re getting tired of me already,” she teased, her eyes glinting with challenge.

rafe responded with a low, sarcastic laugh, running a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. before y/n could brace herself, he did something unexpected—he picked up the tiramisu she had been eating, calmly cutting off another piece with the fork and taking a bite from the very same utensil she had used. his eyes never left hers as he chewed, the audacity of it all catching her completely off guard.

she couldn’t believe it. rafe was deliberately toying with her. he had gone from ignoring her to refusing to engage in their usual back-and-forth, and now this? he was pushing her buttons, and it was clear what he wanted.

he wasn’t just teasing her—he wanted her to crave the attention he was withholding. he was determined to make her fall at his feet, and he wasn’t going to stop until she did.

“tired of the kook princess? hm, never.” rafe smirked as he set down the plate after indulging in her tiramisu. “that’s good tiramisu. you should finish it.”

he turned as if to leave, but stopped just beside her, his presence lingering like a shadow. her tightly curled bundles cascaded down her back, and without hesitation, rafe reached out to push a strand away, his fingers lightly grazing her skin. he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

“this little thing? it’s done. so watch your mouth from now on,” he whispered, his voice low and edged with warning, before casually strolling away, hands slipping into the pockets of his tailored slacks.

y/n stood frozen, the warmth of his body still lingering in the space he left behind. her gaze flickered from the half-eaten tiramisu to rafe’s retreating figure, watching as he effortlessly melted into the crowd of the country club.

she scoffed under her breath, momentarily dumbfounded. had that been a genuine threat? she couldn’t be sure, but something about his tone lingered in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn’t ignore.

one thing was clear—y/n didn’t know what game rafe was playing, but if he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong. whatever this was, she was determined to come out on top.

y/n felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her, even though only a few familiar eyes were watching. she needed to escape, to find a moment alone to process what had just happened. her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor of the country club as she made her way back toward the entrance.

motioning to one of the staff, she requested her coat. the luxurious white mink slipped over her shoulders effortlessly, providing a brief shield against the chilly evening air that greeted her as she stepped outside.

her reliable mercedes benz was in the shop yet again, leaving her with no choice but to summon ubers one after another. not exactly fitting for the kook princess, was it?

standing on the concrete sidewalk, she forced polite smiles at the members passing by, whether they were arriving or departing. “where the hell is this ride?” y/n muttered to herself, tapping her phone screen impatiently as she checked the app for updates.

as the minutes dragged on, the unmistakable roar of a high-powered motorcycle engine filled the air. without even looking, she knew who it was.

there he was—the same buzz-cut brown atop a sleek black motorcycle, his arms flexing beneath the fitted v-neck polo he wore. a small gold chain glinted against his exposed collarbone.

he pulled off his tinted helmet, revealing the all-too-familiar smirk. what other kook would ride dangerously on a motorcycle if not rafe freaking cameron?

“c’mon,” rafe said, his tone short and demanding.

y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned her gaze back to the parking lot, hoping her uber would appear at that very moment. the last thing she wanted was to be roped into another one of his games.

“i wasn’t asking. get on.” rafe’s blue eyes bore into y/n, an unwavering intensity that made her heart race. still feeling bratty, she tossed her clutch at him, expecting him to catch it. slipping her phone into the pocket of her mink coat, she grabbed the helmet, fitting it onto her head with a huff.

with a cautious movement, y/n swung her leg over the seat behind rafe, settling down but keeping her hands stubbornly behind her. she refused to wrap them around him, even as the tension hung in the air.

rafe noticed her defiance, shaking his head with a low chuckle. he tossed the clutch aside, watching it sail into the parking lot, where it probably hit a nearby car. y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief. “you asshole! what the hell is your problem?”

she contemplated jumping off the bike, but before she could voice her anger, rafe revved the engine. he gripped the handlebars firmly, pulling back on the throttle as the motorcycle roared to life. y/n let out a startled yelp as they shot forward, the rush of speed immediately silencing her.

as they sped out of the country club parking lot, her arms instinctively wrapped around him, clinging tightly. rafe couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly she capitulated.

“you have plenty at home. now be quiet, princess,” he teased, the thrill of the ride clearly delighting him.

“you’re a fucking psychopath! i want to get off!” y/n shouted over the roar of the engine as rafe swerved recklessly around cars, earning angry honks from irritated drivers. he ignored her, as usual, pushing her closer to the edge of her patience—and sanity.

y/n whimpered, her plump lips trembling as her arms tightened around him out of sheer fear. she hated motorcycles, and the way rafe was handling his made the experience unbearable.

rafe noticed the shift. her sharp remarks had faded into silence, replaced by the desperate grip around his torso. he felt the weight of the helmet pressing against his back, a clear sign that she had softened—fear had taken over. surprisingly, he didn’t want her like that, so he eased off, slowing down to drive more like a regular civilian under the night sky.

the rest of the ride around figure eight, leading to the y/l/n estate, was quiet. no more banter, no biting remarks from y/n. for once, the tension between them was replaced with an uneasy calm.

but deep down, he knew better. y/n wasn’t scared enough to lose her fire. the craving for attention still lingered beneath the surface—he could feel it. she just needed a moment to catch her breath.

rafe steered through the iron gates as y/n punched in the code, guiding the motorcycle up the long, empty driveway. her parents weren’t home—when were they ever? y/n exhaled in relief, grateful to have survived the wild ride back.

“ugh,” she muttered under her breath in mock disgust, realizing her head was still resting against rafe’s back as the bike came to a full stop right at the granite doorstep.

with a soft sigh, she straightened herself, pulling off the helmet and running her perfectly manicured fingers through her bundles to smooth out any potential frizz. “thanks,” she said, her voice quiet, almost as if the word was dragged out of her unwillingly.

rafe glanced over his shoulder, his fingers idly playing with the gold rings that adorned his slender hands. his eyes followed her carefully as she swung her leg over the motorcycle to stand, nearly catching a glimpse of the delicate white lace panties peeking beneath her dress. he quickly turned his head away, pretending not to notice the fabric, but a sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"you like white, rafe?" y/n teased, catching his gaze the second he turned away, having been caught in the act of sneaking a glance.

the sly smile faded from his lips, replaced by a casual shrug. "depends on who's wearing it," he retorted smoothly.

y/n smirked, shoving the helmet into his arms as she stepped closer. "so, me," she answered for him, her confidence palpable.

this time, it was rafe who had to look up. y/n leaned against the bike's handle, the scent of her signature ysl perfume swirling around him, intoxicating. his eyes trailed down to her chest, noticing how her breasts were perfectly pushed up beneath the fabric of her dress. finally, his gaze lifted to meet hers-soft, inviting, and utterly captivating.

for a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind-he could take her right there, out in the open, letting the entire gated community witness that rafe cameron had finally tasted the kook princess. while others begged for her, here she was, close enough for him to claim.

pushing aside his exotic thoughts, rafe smirked. “in your dreams, princess,” he shot back, effortlessly dismissing the confidence y/n was radiating. her lips twisted into a soft pout.

that face—that fucking pouty look—it was driving rafe into a mental spiral. the image of her beneath him with that exact expression was quickly taking over his mind, clouding his resolve.

y/n began to think that maybe he was serious about withholding his attention, but she had no idea—this was exactly what rafe wanted. he wanted her to crave it, to realize that he wouldn’t make it easy for her. she’d have to earn it, and he was going to make sure she knew just how hard that would be.

y/n refused to let her ego show any cracks. turning on her heel, her heels echoed loudly against the grand staircase leading up to the entrance.

“you owe me a new clutch, cameron!” she called out over her shoulder, before swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind her. in a final act of defiance, she flicked off the exterior lights, leaving rafe standing in the darkness of the driveway.

rafe ran a hand down his face, stifling a groan as he glanced down, noticing his helmet conveniently hiding the growing bulge in his slacks.

he needed to hurry—taking down little miss kook princess was becoming more urgent than ever.

part two coming soon — comment to be in included in the taglist!

[ssweetleaf]

set phasers to stun.

summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)

a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33

“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”

You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.

“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.

He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.

“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”

Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.

“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”

“Joel, I—Ow!”

Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.

“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”

You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.

Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.

“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”

His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.

“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”

He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.

“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.

“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”

You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”

Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.

“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”

You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.

“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”

Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.

‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”

You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.

“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”

Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”

You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.

“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”

“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”

“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”

“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Paintbrush Lesson

Warnings: clitoral stimulation with an object, MDNI I needed to write something after that adorable Rafayel painting card came out.

You moan softly, gripping the sofa cushions as your legs dangle apart, feeling breathless at the onslaught of sensation running through your sensitized body. Of course you had were teasing when you painted those little lines of color on Rafayel's cheeks, enjoying the way his face smarted from the mischevious action.

But oh, he had other plans for revenge, so sinfully sweet, and you feel it between your legs as he strokes your clit with the very edge of a fine, clean, paintbrush, the soft bristles tickling your spread folds and pulsating clit.

You let out a whine of pleasure as he drags it down, watching the sheen of moisture grow on your sex as he dips it into your core, gathering the slick and brushing it upwards onto your swollen bud.

"Silly girl...you really thought I wouldn't get back at you for this?" He taunts you, but there's a hint of affection in his words. You blush and avert your eyes, embarrassed at the sight of your panties swinging off your ankle and his lavender eyes growing into a darker shade of amethyst as he builds up your arousal. His strokes are consistent and tender, almost like he was painting his desire into your flesh, eager to bring forth that dizzying, prismatic, explosion of pleasure from your body.

"Rafayel..." you pant his name as you throw your head back, feeling the heated knot in your stomach tightening, ready to loosen and give in to the relentless stimulation being supplied to it.

"That's it my little painter...give into the experience of this artist..." he whispers devilishly, peering at you, knowing how much you get off by him watching you.

You whimper as the brush tip focuses on the very edge of your clit, the moist movements offering no resistance and with a punch of heat, feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hot waves of gratification spreading through your being. You feel Rafayel watching your spread pussy intently, seeing every naked spasm and convulsion, before leaning forward and pressing a calming kiss to your heated clit, making you sigh.

"I hope you come to more of my painting lessons from now on."

[vrystalius]

Would be willing to do like ,, Rengoku x reader that takes care of Senjuro while he’s away on missions ? Rengoku deserves some love but so does his little brother <333

Visiting the smallest Rengoku.

You had nothing to do with Kyojuro being away on an important mission, so you decided to visit his younger brother.

Pairing: Kyojuro x reader, platonic/familial Senjuro x reader

(A little angsty by the end)

Your husband has been away for a couple days now. You prepared a large pot for miso soup and some sweet potatoes for your husband to enjoy when he returns from his long mission. After finishing your chores, you decided to pay Senjuro a visit and to help him out a little. You knew that he’s working hard to keep everything together in his family home with Shinjuro doing nothing but cause a mess and drink all day every day, leaving the youngest Rengoku family member to take care of himself and his drunkard father.

You always pitied Senjuro for needing to grow up so fast and barely experiencing childhood. His mother died too early in his life, meaning he barely remembers her. But you also know how much your husband Kyojuro dotes on his little brother and wishes for him to be nothing but happy. Sometimes, you two thought about moving Senjuro to your house, away from Shinjuro and the verbal abuse.

You made sure to prepare Senjuro a small home cooked meal before heading out. You weren’t sure what his favourite food was, so you went with something Kyojuro would’ve liked: sweet potatoes with some rice and fried vegetables and some Mochi you bought from a vendor on your way to the residence. You were sure Senjuro’ll appreciate some home-cooked food! He hasn’t been cooked for in a while.

Upon your arrival, you sound hin sweeping the porch, removing the yellow and orange coloured and dried leaves.

“The leaves match your hair, Senjuro!”

Hearing your voice call out to him so suddenly made him flinch and stiffen up, but his shoulders visibly relaxed after spotting you. Senjuro smiled shyly and waved.

“My brother isn’t here if that’s why you came to visit. He still should be on a mission.”

You knew that Kyojuro’s little brother still has to get used to you being around and marrying his older brother, but you also heard from him that Senjuro really admires you. You haven’t interacted a lot, but everytime you did, his eyes would sparkle in fascination. He always asked you about what you do and how it is to live with his older brother. He is also very curious about your cooking and even mustered courage (he received a lot of pep-talking from your husband) to ask for some of your recipes!

After setting down for lunch and presenting your home-cooked meal to him, Senjuro thanked you with a bright smile. He really missed getting cooked meals that aren’t prepared by himself. You insisted on cooking for him and Shinjuro, preparing more lunch and dinner. That way, Senjuro doesn’t have to cook anything today and maybe even tomorrow. He was extremely grateful and tried to help you out as much as possible, feeling a little guilty for you cooking, even though you are supposed to be a guest. He watched you cook over your shoulder, tip-toeing to try and get a better view.

“Can you teach me that recipe? It looks very tasty.”

He’s extremely fascinated by your whole being. You’re so kind, so talented and beautiful, no wonder why his brother married you. Senjuro is extremely glad to have you as a sister-in-law.

After the meal, you suggested to play a round of Shogi with him. You knew that Shinjuro barely ever leaves his bedroom, meaning Senjuro has no one to play or talk with. That poor boy was forced to grow up to fast and never got to enjoy his childhood, so you wanted to help him be a child again. Even if for a little while. You two sat on the porch during the game. He was extremely happy during the whole match, ranting about his older brother and papa the whole time.

“One time, my brother was teaching how to use the fire breathing technique, and I saw flames sparking out of my sword! It was small, but Kyojuro was so proud of me! We went to town and got a bowl of ramen together. Our father scolded us for coming home so late…”

Senjuro’s eyes were sparkling and a big smile was plastered on his face while moving his pieces. In the end, you let him win to make him just a little happier. But just as he was about to celebrate, Kyojuro’s crow quietly flew above the residence, landing right beside you two. It was quiet for a couple moments before finally announcing what he came here for.

“The flame pillar! The flame pillar fought Upper Moon Three! Upper Moon Three!”

Silence draped over you three as all of you and Senjuro both knew what was the crow was about to announce next. You glanced over at the youngest of the Rengoku’s.

His hands were tightly gripping his hakama pants as his gaze was fixated on the shogi pieces. Tears started forming in the corners of his eyes.

You knew your husband won’t be coming back for the miso soup and sweet potatoes you left at home for him.

💠

I am going to sob during Akaza’s backstory reveal and death, but I probably sobbed more over Kyojuro’s. Senjuro doesn’t deserve anything that happened to him and I’m so glad Shinjuro changed for the better in the end!!. Thank you for requesting this and sorry for the wait!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[shunsuiken]

cw. mdni + afab!reader + he eats you out + no thoughts no nothing my clit wrote this, goodnight!

for some reason jing yuan hasn't stopped running his goddamn tongue over your clit for the past thirty minutes. you're lying there. tits out, pussy on display and your lips swollen from so much biting (and a make out session that he'd teased you criminally with for who knows how long).

"a- are you not satisfied yet?" you can barely whisper, your throat dry and your vision blurry from the edging. "i wanna cum, yuan," you whine softly, throwing your arms over your face—either to muffle out how pathetic you sound or to hide how fucked out your expressions are from just your lover's tongue.

"you amuse me, beloved,” he chuckles, voice hoarse as your wetness coats his chin. “earlier you admitted that you were in need of some assistance down here—” he licks a long stroke upwards on your bud and it makes your thighs close around his head instinctively. “—and how could i refuse my darling little sparrow?” he lowers his head again, letting his tongue roll over your bud again, keeping a sharp eye on how your mouth opens and closes, mewls spilling from your lips.

earlier you claimed that you were in need of attention… a different type of attention. one where jing yuan would need to be slotted right in between your legs in order to placate the feral feeling. he remembered how you waved your hands offhandedly, desperately trying to conceal how you needed him by shrugging it off. you didn’t want to burden him with something trivial like this! it’s not like you can’t do it by yourself (as you have done for yourself, plenty of times).

however, when jing yuan listened to your reasoning, he couldn’t help but lock in on the way your lips moved, the way your eyes darted to all corners of the bedroom, the way you played with the tips of your fingers. you poor little thing… you were just nervous to ask for his help! so with a little kiss on your forehead, and one chaste kiss on your lips, he gently coaxed you onto your shared bed. his hand caresses comforting circles on the small of your back while his other hand rises to push some hair strands away from your face.

“look at how radiant you are before me, beloved mine, you need but simply ask for my assistance whenever it is required,” he had told you tenderly, adoration dripping in his tone as he observed your expression—an expression heated in the cheeks, slightly embarrassed by his wording but the relief that sparkled in your eyes was a no brainer to the general.

you can only huff a pant and a small ‘okay’ as his sturdy hands keep your thighs open for him, licking the velvet of your folds, allowing you to enjoy the high of it before reaching your peak.

[yiiyiiwrites]

🍁 | Autumn Equinox | Azriel

Summary: you’ve been mated to Azriel for over a year now, but it’s your first time celebrating the autumn equinox outside your home court. Azriel tries his best to make it a good one 2075words

Azriel x Autumn court reader

Also Have one for [Cassian] & [Eris] & Lucien coming soon

[Acotar masterlist]

The autumn equinox used to be your favourite celebration, now it just reminded you of everything you’d lost. A bitter sweet holiday you wasn't sure if you could do each year.

You may have gained your fated lover, your other half but you’d given up your home and family.

There wasn’t any other way, you knew that. The moment you’d stumbled upon the shadow singer in the golden forests of autumn was the final fraying thread snapping.

If you didn’t hurt Azriel by your own hands, Beron would make an example of you and use you in what ever way to break the bond. To snuff out any flickering ember that remained for your mate.

So you were as sly as a fox, crawling under the overgrown hedges of molten brown thorns keeping you in the court.

Your mother understood, she packed your things as sobs shook her whole body. Even now as you closed your eyes, you could smell the tendrils of her smokey caramelised scent and the undertones of cinnamon washing over you as if she were embracing you for the last time again.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. You opened your eyes, dark wisp falling away from caressing your cheek. For a moment you imagined the touch of your mother's hand warming your cheek.

Azriel sighed as you sunk into his embrace, his presence more frequent the days leading to the equinox. You’d refused to hold him the first few days after you caught the mark on the calendar, afraid your touch would burn him.

Velaris offered a similar bout of weather that reminded you of home. The nights growing longer, colder and you were thankful there was still a little scrap of heritage you could clutch onto.

Your magic however seemed to be like a fizzling firework in the night court. Touch running hot and cold, that you didn’t stand close to your mate for months as you got used to the warmer seasons.

The restraint you’d built since your arrival dulled your flames. You no longer needed to apologise for scorching holes in Azriel’s sleeve or slapping the fiery embers from the fabric a bit too harshly as you tried to it stop marring his skin.

In the beginning he’d gifted you a pair of leather gloves, but that increased the distance between you both. You wondered why the gods had strung you two together in the beginning, everything you were, summoned painful memories for Azriel. The simple action of holding his hand reminded you why, why you needed to cage the flame to offer him a semblance of the same affection he gave to you.

"I have something for you," he said, nose tracing your jaw and pulling you out of your thoughts.

The cold crept in as he slipped away, the winter breeze pushing the stray strands of hair out out of your face. You breathed in, another wave of smokey scents and sweet aromas tipped with oak prickling the warmth beneath your fingertips. Turning around to meet your mate, you took a step back.

In his gloved hands laid a whicker hamper, tartan blanket sticking out of the box. You gasped, adding another step back. No wonder you could smell their scents. "You saw my mother?" Your voice trembled, hands diving into your coat pocket, fists clenching as you tried to expel the overpowering scents that even mingled with his shadows.

He nodded, ever the cool and controlled mate, never raising his voice or moving too fast as if he'd spook a fox in Autumn. "Yes, it's customary to exchange gifts," Azriel said, pulling the blanket out of the hamper and rolling it out on the ground, he stilled. "Isn't it?" His hazel eyes snapped up to yours, shadows freezing under the curve of his wings.

You couldn't fight the smile, nodding down at him kneeling beside the hamper. He patted the space opposite him and that damned tether tugged you closer. "Yes Az, exchanging gifts are customary but I did not get my family any." You didn't see the point, there was no way you'd be able to step in Autumn without dire consequences.

"That's fine, I did." He shrugged, laying a pumpkin pie in front of you, steam curling off the brown pastry.

A tradition in your family to gift handmade presents to each other during the autumn equinox. Your mothers famous, pumpkin pie, honey tea and spiced apples.

"You got gifts for my family?" You asked, scooting closer to Azriel who didn't offer you a glance, his attention on the contents in the hamper. "What did you get my father?" You leant forwards dipping your head and tried catching his gaze. "My father hates you and you gave him gift?"

"I got him a hunting knife." He said it like it was the most logical thing, as if your father would not be thinking of gutting him with it. His shadows seemed to follow your line of thought, a dark wisp pushing you back to sit.

"Is that why you met with my mother instead?" You laughed, even though you wanted to cry at the thought of your mate stepping into autumn for a spec of your happiness and his own demise.

Azriel finally let his gaze fall on you, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip. Always searching you before he decided what words to choose. "You're mother actually requested for me." His ears tinged a darker shade, hand scratching the back of his neck.

It was odd to think of your mother with him, you knew she'd be gentle and careful in her approach. Something you thought Azriel didn't receive much of in way of interaction. You also wondered what she thought of your mate, hoping she didn't worry and didn't judge alone from his stony features.

The grey cable knit sweater (the one you'd knit him last year) hugged his muscular arms, bicep flexing at his movement that you forget for a second what he said. A wave of your mother's scent hit you like a whip and brought you back.

"How the Gods does my mother manage to request your presence?"

"Well, she knows a lady in winter, that knows a lady in day and knows..." he trailed off the sentence, stumbling over his words trying to grasp the order of whatever your mother had told him. Trust your mother to use her network of gossips to send word to Velaris in order to find your mate.

"And how many ladies do you know?"

"Many," he smirked leaning in to you, "the only lady that matters is you though." His lips pressed against yours, warmth spreading through your chest as his hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer.

You smirked, storing away the memory so that you could show Feyre later and make your mate sweat about his duties to a high lady that didn't matter.

"Smooth, I bet my mother saw right through you." You said, tracing your swollen lips. You leant across Azriel's lap and plucked a ruby red apple from the hamper, teeth sinking into the shiny skin.

"Your mother probably thinks we're an equal match. How many guards did you court till you made it to me?" His lip twitched, fingers pinching your thigh for another swift attack. You swatted him way, squealing as his shadows skimmed the small slip of skin where your top had rode up over your hip.

It were true, you'd worked your way through nearly every division of the autumn army in the hopes of finding someone who wasn't just focused on following the high lords every word. What else were you supposed to do for five hundred years?

"I'd be quiet if I were you, recon I could get a rank higher than you back in autumn.” You swatted the curling wisps out of your face, sending them hissing back to their master.

"I doubt your mother would approve."

You didn’t argue with him on that, knowing that your mother was never fond of any suitor you’d brought home before.

“I take it these are from them?” You asked, lifting a small wooden box out of the hamper. A yellowing envelope stuck to the lid and sealed with red wax. You ripped the letter and scanned over your mother’s cursive writing.

The usual sentimental words she’d say to you around the table whilst you thanked the gods of harvest for giving you all good things and planting new seeds of regrowth and learning. At the very bottom below her signature however was a blurred splotchy mess, as if she’d written it last minute and folded the paper.

I hope this equinox brings you many blessings and offers you new fields to plant your own seeds. May you nurture the connection between you and your fated. My daughter you’ve been blessed, as have I now that I know you will be loved and safe.

Azriel peered over your shoulder, “I think she likes me,” he said, cutting a second piece of pumpkin pie and shoving it in his mouth.

“Just thank the stars you didn’t meet my father.” Now that you were banished from autumn, you doubted that you’d see him again. Too proud of his home to step out of tradition.

He hummed in agreement, pouring a cup of honey tea and setting it down in front of you. The view from the house of wind's balcony was your favourite, always bringing a smile to your face and reminding you that you could find beauty in any court. You did miss Autumn, but Velaris had grown on you, the constant stars blinking in the inky sky each night.

A small fire flickered in a homemade pit, copper bowl keeping it contained. Peeling the overlapping cloth, you traced the knitted mittens. Charcoal grey yarn that looked like liquid mercury woven together with softer orange, the two colours a symbol of your union with Azriel. Picking them up from the box, you slipped them into your pocket, freezing as something dropped out of one the mittens. A dark wisp dove out from its owner and caught the small object.

The shadows held it up and twisted it in front you, a fox figurine carved from wood and painted orange and beige. Tiny brushstrokes imitating fur, looking oddly like the fox you had as a child. A gift from your younger sister, you'd left your other figurines back in Autumn and hated yourself for it ever since. Least you had one now.

Azriel was silent as ever, watching you intently.

"My mother didn't give you anything? I mean I know I am gift enough Az," you said, laughing as he bumped his shoulder to yours.

His head dipped, Shadows concealing his face. "She did, wouldn't let me leave till I finished a pumpkin pie she made. Your sister made me a little fox of my own." Thats when you noticed the tiny wood carved fox pendent on a thin string around his neck, dark ink peeking out underneath it.

"Oh god's Az, don't let your enemies hear you say that. If that's all it takes." And by the looks of it, he'd enjoyed it so much, he was half way through the pumpkin pie from the hamper.

Cool metal met your fingertips as you lifted the cloth again, your reflection staring back at you in the silver blade. "I take it this gift is for both of us," you joked, Azriel picked it up and turned the hilt in his hand. A red stone embedded in the pommel, a scripture you couldn't quite make out on the hilt.

"Hunting knife, a few centuries old," he said glancing at your furrowed brows. "Look the hilts worn, the leather binding it, is coming away. Blade needs sharpening too, must have been in your family for a long time." He passed the knife back, blade pinched between his thumb and pointer finger.

You wrapped it back in the cloth, sandwiching it between the thick layers. "No idea why he'd give me that old thing," you mumbled, slamming the box shut. You were never one to use a knife, more inclined to using your magic and merging it with autumn's fighting techniques.

"No idea, just don't gut me with it in my sleep."

"Never," you gasped. "Just remember good behaviour or its a blunt blade my dear."

Since its nearly autumn equinox I wanted to do some prompts for it :) there's other characters to come - Yiiyii

[koiiiji]

lookism x reader. between takes

summary ; lookism actually is a series, and all guys are just actors, same as you, so you happen to meet with them backstage.

starring ; seongji, jungoo, jongun, gimyong

SEONGJI x demon!reader

the bustling film set was alive with energy. you were taking a break from your role, when you spotted Seongji Yook across the lot. his team was filming scenes for “lookism,” in the mountains of cheongliang too. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your friend. Seongji noticed you and waved, making his way over with a grin. “nice horns. going for a new look?”

you laughed, adjusting your tail. “just trying something different. how’s the day going on your end?” he shrugged, glancing at his hands and feet. “i feel kinda weird with this,” he said, gesturing to the fake extra finger on each hand and foot.

“really?” you asked ironically, pointing at your demoniacal makeup, horns on your forehead and the tail behind you. “i think we’re both quite the spectacle here”

as you both found a quiet spot to sit, the conversation flowed easily. you talked about your roles, shared behind-the-scenes stories, and teased each other about your costumes.

“you make a pretty convincing demon,” Seongji said, his tone teasing yet sincere. “i’d say you’re stealing the show.”

“thanks, but i think you’re the real star,” you replied, meeting his gaze. “i saw you on set, your scenes have been incredible, your appearance in “lookism” will blow the whole show.”

there was a comfortable silence, the kind only shared between good friends. yet beneath it, there was an unspoken tension, that nobody dared to speak about. Seongji leaned back, watching the crew set up for the next scene. “you know, i’ve always admired how dedicated you are to your roles.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words feeling more personal than casual. “thank you, Seongji, i really appreciate it!”

and before you knew it, the break was over, and you both had to return to your sets. as you stood, Seongji hesitated for a moment. “hey, maybe we could grab dinner after filming wraps up?”

the invitation hung in the air, filled with possibilities. “i’d like that,” you replied, trying to contain your excitement.

with a shared smile, you parted ways, the encounter leaving you with a sense of anticipation.

JUNGOO x pirate!reader

cozy coffee shop was bustling with the morning crowd. you felt a bit out of place in your full pirate costume — with oversized shirt, high knee boots and tight corset, complete with a big hat adorned with feathers and all small accessories everywhere. your team took a break from filming, you all needed a caffeine boost. as you waited for your order, the door chimed, and in walked Jungoo Kim. you heard that his team filming “lookism” somewhere near your location. his costume torn in some spots and covered in fake blood, his skin in bruises from a fight scene and hair is messy. despite his rough appearance, he carried himself with his usual charismatic confidence.

your eyes met briefly, and you both did a double take. you recognized him instantly — you kinda were his fan, he is an actor you secretly admired and respected.

he recognized you as well, approaching with a playful grin, trying to play it cool. “ahoy there, captain,” he called out with a playful grin as he sauntered over. “looking for treasure, or have you already stolen it with that outfit?”

you laughed, tipping your hat. “just trying to keep myself and the crew in line.” you smiled, waving your head to the side where your set colleagues were sitting, feeling your cheeks warm. “and what about you, mister criminal? fighting off enemies before breakfast?”

Jungoo smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “thought i’d see if the rumors were true about a captivating pirate queen causing a stir. seems they were right.”

you leaned back on the counter, smiling conspiratorially at him, playing along with his little performance, “ah, so you're not here by chance, and it's you the one who are looking for treasure here” you smiled teasingly, lifting your chin, the feathers on your hat trembled slightly.

“well, you caught me,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling. “i do have a knack for looking for treasures. maybe i should join your crew — think you could handle the competition?”

“only if you promise not to steal my spotlight,” you bantered back, imagining him in a tricorn hat and boots.

Jungoo leaned closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “i promise to keep the spotlight firmly on you. though, i might steal a dance from the captain.”

the playful exchange left you smiling, and you found yourself enjoying his company more than expected.

“i have to admit, i’ve been a fan of your work for a while,” he confessed, suddenly trying to sound nonchalant. “your performances are always captivating.”

surprised and flattered, you replied, “really? i’ve been following your career too. your fight scenes with sword are legendary.”

but as the director burst into the cafe and barked at everyone, urging them to return to set to start filming, Jungoo offered you a wink. “break a leg, captain. i’ll be here to catch you if you fall.”

with a wave, you returned to your role, feeling a bit more buoyant from the encounter.

JONGUN x black swan!reader

film studio was a maze of sets and props, buzzing with activity. you were navigating the corridors, adjusting to the thick black eye lenses you wore for your role as the black swan in upcoming film. they made everything difficult to see, but the effect was stunning on camera.

as you carefully made your way to the break room, you suddenly collided with someone. the impact, unexpected and strong, caused you to lose your balance and fall.

“whoa!” a deep voice exclaimed. you found yourself looking up at Park Jongun, who was also wearing the same intense black lenses for his role on the neighbor set.

“i’m so sorry!” you said, embarrassed as you tried to regain your footing. Jongun quickly helped you up, grabbing your wrist, pulling. you to his broad chesr, a little harder then he should have. his grip steady. “no, it’s my fault. these lenses make it hard to see anything.”

“tell me about it. i’ve been bumping into everything.” you laughed softly, brushing yourself off. he glanced at your costume, noticing the contrast between your delicate ballerina attire and his all bruised and blooded body makeup. “looks like we’re playing quite opposite roles.” he said, finally losing his grip and letting you go.

“yeah,” you admitted, feeling a bit self-conscious. “i had to lose a lot of weight for this role, so i’m not exactly steady on my feet.”

Jongun offered you a charm smile. “you look incredible, though. very convincing as a ballerina.”

“thanks,” you replied, appreciating his kindness. “i’m guessing you’re the tough guy in your film?”

he nodded, a hint of pride and amusement in his voice. “yeah, shiro oni, always ready for few crazy fights. but i promise i’m not as scary in real life.”

as you continued talking, you found Jongun to be easygoing and surprisingly funny. you shared stories about your roles and the challenges of filming with these horrible jet black lenses.

“next time, we should get a guide dog,” he joked, making you laugh.

“or maybe just a cane,” you suggested, enjoying the lighthearted banter.

eventually, it was time to return to your respective sets. “it was nice bumping into you — literally. let’s try to meet again when we can actually see each other.” Jongun smiled dazzlingly again, gently clasping your wrist, and leaving a light, soft kiss your knuckles.

“deal?” he asked with a charm grin, while you stand there smiling shyly, feeling a newfound connection.

“i’d like that,” you replied, feeling grateful for the unexpected encounter. with a wave, you both headed back to work, the meeting leaving you with a smile and the possibility of a new connection.

GIMYONG x targaryen princess!reader

sun was beginning to set over the bustling film set near the sea, casting a warm glow on the neighboring sets of two popular series. one set belonged to the fantasy series where you played a targaryen princess, and the other to the hit show "lookism," where Gimyong had one of the main roles.

he had often glanced toward your set during breaks, intrigued by the regal world of dragons and thrones. he'd heard about y&u from mutual crew members and quietly admired you from afar.

but today, fate seemed to favor him. a scheduling overlap meant both productions were on a break simultaneously. seizing the opportunity, Gimyong wandered over, pretending to be curious about the elaborate set design.

as you stepped outside, still in your flowing, black gown embroidered with red and gold threads, depicting scales, tails and heads of dragons on the sleeves and collar. you saw Gimyong standing nearby, looking somewhat out of place in his black coat. classic black trousers, white shirt and loafers amidst the medieval backdrop.

“hey, aren't you from "lookism?"” you asked, recognizing him from the posters plastered around the studio. he abruptly pulled his hand away from the blue weird machine that soon will be turned into your dragon with computers cgi effects help. he beamed at you, intensively nodding. he was a bit surprised but pleased you knew of him. “yeah, i'm Gimyong. i've been curious about your set for a while. it's got quite the atmosphere.”

you smiled, appreciating his interest. “it's definitely a different world over here. i'm [y/n], by the way.”

“it's nice to finally meet you,”he said, but paused himself for a moment, glancing back at weird blue platform. he noticed once, that your team usually shoot scenes of flying on dragon's back on this thing. brilliant pick up line immediately was born in his head.

“sooo that’s supposed to be your dragon on screen, right?” he grinned, swinging onto the platform from behind, trying to play it cool, but it came out a little awkward, as you can see he is clearly nervous. you giggled softly, but decided to play along, already understanding what he was leading to.

“yes, his name is Vermithor, really huge dragon.” you elegantly covered your mouth with your hand, trying to hide a shameless smile, at Gimyong’s attempt to flirt.

“you know, im kinda dragon myself, being the son of a golden dragon… so how about safe the dragon and ride-” you couldn't let him finish the sentence, bursting into laughter from his pickup line and such a self-confident face. Gimyong was truly humongous man.

in fact, he was not confused or upset by your laughter, because in the end he amused you. his light laugh joined yours and he was happy that he made you laugh.

“no, but seriously, i’ve heard great things about your performance.”

“thank you! it’s been a dream role for me,” you replied warmly, your genuine smile still playing on your lips. “i’ve seen a few episodes of lookism — i absolutely in love with it! your character is such a gentleman.” you exclaimed admiringly, remembering all the scenes where Gimyong was filming with his 'mother', and how cheerful his character was, representing a wonderful leader.

as you talked, the conversation flowed naturally, and Gimyong felt his initial nervousness fading away. he found himself captivated not just by your talent, but by your genuine enthusiasm and kindness.

“maybe you could give me a tour of your set sometime?” Gimyong suggested, hoping to extend the conversation — and his time with you.

“i’d love that,” you replied, intrigued by the idea. “and maybe i could visit yours. i’ve always been curious about how you bring such a cool fightings to life.”

with a shared promise to explore each other’s worlds, Gimyong returned to his set with a newfound excitement. meeting you had been even better than he imagined, and he couldn't wait when you will visit his set, to show off in front of you with his skills and muscles.

[stevie-petey]

Maybe a little baby blurb of Steve's daydream/ dream life with bug. Basically what he was imagining their life would be like outside of Hawkins. I always picture Steve daydreaming about it before bed😭

as always im missing steve n bug and since chap 3 is taking a while heres some fluff <333

enjoy !

"you need to sleep," steves lips press against your forehead. the skin is overly warm, scrunched in concentration.

you try to shrug him off. without looking up from your notes, you wave a dismissive hand at him. "no time."

"did you just shrug off my doting kiss?" steve scoffs at you, offended. only you still don't look up from your notes. he worries about your neck, he knows your back will ache later tonight. weary and full of concern for you, as he always is, steve softens his voice. "angel, youve been at this for days."

"just a few more hours, then i'll go to bed."

"you said that three hours ago."

"and now im saying it again."

youve been cramming for an exam since wednesday. its currently friday and your body hasnt left your desk since early morning.

steve cups the back of your neck, settling his palm against its base. He massages the joint that sticks out, eases the tension between the muscles. youre exhausted, its obvious to anyone. "come lay down with me."

"steve-"

"please?" he brings the tips of his fingers to your chin. gently, he angles your head up; his eyes meet yours. in the brown and honey that coats his eyes lays love and adoration, a softness meant only for you to see. "i miss you."

your eyes swim with conflict. steve can see the part of you that always abides by responsibility. you hate disappointing people, you hate failing. the only reason youre in college is because of the incredible scholarship you received for your academics.

yet theres a part of you that melts at the idea of laying in steves arms. to rest against his chest and listen to his heartbeat. feel his hand tangle in your hair, his nails scratching your scalp. youd wilt into his body and wrap around his ribcage.

"i..." you bite your lip, slowly giving in. steve knows the weight of your bones must be heavy. he strokes your cheek, finger lingering on your lips. closing your eyes, you admit defeat. "carry me?"

the moment the words leave your mouth, steve sweeps you into his arms and cradles you against his chest. carefully he navigates your small apartment. the walls are narrow and theres hardly any room to breathe, but itd been all you could afford in new york and it was only yours and steves. no one elses.

it was your home together.

steve sets you down on the bed and crawls in beside you. he throws his arms around you, encasing you against the world. burying his face against your neck, he settles his weight against you. you breathe him in, push yourself further into his body, and for a moment everything is still.

"im not going to bed, you know." you mumble into his shoulder.

he laughs, the sound reverberating your bones. "just lay with me for a little while longer."

"always," your lips whisper against steves skin.

warmth seeps into his chest, coats his lungs with sickly sweet honey. he can taste it in his mouth, it mixes with the aroma of your perfume. his body buzzes with all the love he has for you, for all the gratitude within him to have escaped hawkins with you. to be so lucky as to know youre still his, hes still yours, and that youve made something for yourselves despite all the pain youve endured together.

then a piercing ring rips through steves eardrums. he sits up in bed, heart pounding with adrenaline. his hand slams down on his alarm clock on his bedtime table, silencing it.

he rubs his face, groans with exhaustion.

steve had been having such a good dream. he can still feel your weight on his chest. he already misses it.

he'll blame robin for it later. shes the reason hes getting up so goddamn early, anyways. shes the one who needs a ride to her stupid pep rally.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Chasing Away the Cold

The ship swayed gently as it rested, at anchor. Doe lay on her bed in the bright cabin that was hers alone, gazing at the trinkets on the shelf: several pretty shells, a cut ruby and gold necklace that had been a gift, a music box. It was eerily silent; the crew had disembarked, but she was tired of land, wanted the gentle hush of the sea. It made her heart full to know she was trusted to care for the Sanguine Shadow, a little flare of light in her chest that kept her warm on this cold night. Through the porthole, she spied a drift of white lifted on the chill air.

A gentle knock pulled her from her reverie. 'Lass?'

'Come in,' she said, shifting onto her side as the door opened to reveal Gale, snow melting in his hair. 'Hello, you. I thought you were having a well earned drink and a dance.'

'Ah,' he said, smiling sheepishly at her as he shrugged out of his coat. 'A siren pulled me back. Have you seen her?'

'Hmm,' said Doe, tapping her bottom lip thoughtfully. 'She was in the captain's quarters last, I believe- hey!' She squealed as Gale pulled her from her bed to kiss her. He held her by the waist, close and gentle. It was sweet and smouldering, his kiss, like embers and yielding ripe fruit on the tongue. She melted into his embrace and felt him grin against her, dipping his head to kiss her throat.

'Not tonight,' he rasped softly. 'If you don't mind.'

'I don't,' she agreed. 'It's a cold night, after all.'

As if to emphasise her point, the wind picked up to a howl outside, the whirl of snow thickening and beginning to settle. She shivered in her thin shift. Gale smiled sympathetically, grasping the thin material in his warm hands and lifting it over her head to reveal her body, gooseprickled with cold.

'Poor thing,' he breathed, tipping forward to claim her mouth again, his hot tongue slipping between her lips, his breath in her mouth, a hand moving to gently cup the back of her head, kneading in soothing circles. They fell back on the bed and he covered her body, trailing kisses over jaw and neck and chest; he was focused, lips and tongue drawing sighs from her, leaving marks of possession on her skin for the captain to find- and try to best- later.

'Gale-' she said breathily, her hands tugging at his hair gently as he suckled a nipple, drawing it to a hard peak. When he looked up to meet her eyes, his gaze was hungry, the fire in those dark depths stoked to a blaze, but still adoring.

'A little warmer, lass?' He smiled at her blush; she was thawing under his skilled touch. Smoothing a hand along her skin to rest at her throat, the heavy coolness of his rings strangely soothing to her, he turned his attention to her other breast, groaning into her skin as her breath caught. He knew the map of her body well enough, but allowed her hands to guide his head down the soft rise of her belly. His kisses there tickled; she giggled and he only peppered her with more, laughing up at her with sparkling mischief in his gaze.

'Beautiful songbird,' he chuckled, nuzzling at her skin. 'You have such an infectious, wicked little laugh.'

'It's the wicked company,' she replied, grinning. 'Something about a scoundrel pirate...'

He raised a brow, smirking. 'What have you heard?'

'Oh, lots of things,' she said, writhing as he licked at her inner thigh. In response, he tsked and gripped her thighs with both hands, keeping her still. 'For one thing- he's a bit of a control freak.'

His eyes glittered at that. He pulled her down the bed, closer to his mouth, laughing darkly when she yelped. 'Hmmm. What else?'

'He's very attentive.'

'Mmhm.' He smirked into her skin, pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses higher and higher, going slowly, teasing and thorough.

'Anything else, lass?' he whispered, breath ghosting over her clit.

'He's very good,' she croaked, mouth suddenly dry.

Gale closed his eyes and moaned softly at the praise, finally lowering his head to put soft lips and skilled tongue to work. He remained slow, relishing the waves of heat rolling off her, the soft cries from her mouth, her hands gathering his hair in her fists in an effort to ground herself. He lifted her, hooked his arms beneath her thighs to ensure no escape, stayed attuned to the trembling of her body and the tension he was building. When her breathing grew fast and shallow, he pulled back for the briefest moment.

'Doe,' he growled. 'Let go.'

The command sent her falling into pleasure; tears rolled down her cheeks and she screamed his name as he worked her into a second, finally pulling away with her arousal over mouth and bearded chin. He licked his lips, catlike and smug.

'You're wearing too many clothes,' she said as he rose to kiss her. He pressed her into the mattress, hands cupping either side of her neck.

'Hmm. And what do you plan to do about that, little siren?'

It was his turn to yelp in surprise as she flipped them, straddling him as her hands went to his crisp blue linen shirt. Her legs still trembled; Gale's hands went to her hips to steady her as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders. She pressed small soft kisses into his chest and shoulders, licked up his neck with a devouring tongue, tugged at his earlobe with her teeth and drew a feral snarl from him.

'You're so good,' she said between kisses, nosing at his jaw. 'Such a sweet boy.' Her hand stroked downward to unlace his trousers and she shifted so he could shimmy out of them, dropping to her knees beside the bed.

'Careful lass,' he warned. 'Keep talking like that and I won't get to be inside you before- ah-'

She grinned wickedly, big brown eyes sparkling. 'I don't plan on it, love.' With that, she divested him of the last of his clothes, took his cock in her hand and drew it into her mouth; the sound of his stuttering breath, the whimpers he could not hold back, were music to her.

She was as slow and attentive as he had been; the heat of her mouth and softness of her tongue rendering him nothing but a moaning mess above her. She would not let him have release however, not yet; she released him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and bright eyes as she rose to straddle him again, guiding him within her. His eyes fluttered closed, his teeth grit on a groan as she sank onto him, his hands bruising on her hips to set his own punishing pace. The sweet gentleness of before gave way to hard, desperate thrusts; she came again above him, collapsing into his grip with a hoarse cry, and it only drove him to push her more.

'Fuck, Gale that feels so good-'

'You feel incredible,' he moaned in response. 'Gods- I love you- I love you so much-'

'I love you too,' she gasped. 'I need you- I need you to fill me right now-'

And then he came, heat and cries and ragged breathing, his arms winding around her to hold her close as they rode out their highs, the snowstorm raging outside, unable to touch the fire that blazed between the siren and her scoundrel.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

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@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[kirain]

I know he's not your romance, but can I request a wholesome Astarion fic plz?

Astarion frowned as he and Tav entered the modest boutique. It was small, but clean; organised. It had an almost rustic charm to it, featuring large windows adorned with delicate lace curtains, which were tied back just enough to let the sun shine through. That was appreciated, as Astarion had grown weary of the dark.

He said nothing as his favoured traveling companion scanned the outfits on the walls, cupping her chin as she considered and rejected each one. Carefully curated as they were, she seemed to be looking for something specific. The soft lighting highlighted racks of unique frocks, hand-knitted sweaters, and artisanal jewelry, but she passed them all by.

Why did she bring me to this rundown shack?

Astarion huffed. Has she noticed how tatty my clothes are? No, she's not that perceptive.

His eyes widened as Tav's finger suddenly pointed at some lingerie behind the shopkeeper's counter. His heart sank.

Of course ... she wants to dress me in something risqué. Expose my body. Why am I not surprised? There's nothing more "sexy" than a vampire, after all. He bit the tip of his thumb, feigning indifference. So in the end, she's just like all the others. A horny, selfish—!

"No, no! Not that!" she laughed. "The one beside it."

Astarion flinched, trying to hide his shock as the shopkeeper passed her a plain ashmeadow outfit. It wasn't particularly bright or stylish, but the pattern was subtle, casually elegant, and paired with lightweight trousers, likely designed to ease movement.

"What do you think?" she asked, unfolding the pieces for a better view. "Doesn't it look nice and comfy?"

Astarion hesitated. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised every inch. Overall, the outfit was dull, at least compared to his usual garb, but pleasant in all the ways that mattered. It wouldn't grab attention, but it wasn't hideous. It wouldn't make a spectacle of his body, but it would complement his figure, his hair, his eyes. For one brief moment, he felt grateful, but quickly recoiled in mistrust.

Is this a trick?

He quickly waved at the suggestion, bidding the shopkeeper to take the outfit away, but Tav clung to it, staying his hand.

"Wait, what's wrong with it? You don't like it?"

"I appreciate your confidence in me, darling, but I don't think even I could make that dreary ensemble look good. That's something you'd see a pig farmer wearing." He gave her a seductive grin. "Surely you'd like to see me in something more ... exotic."

Disgusting, but I need her protection. Just fuck me, already. Get it over with. Why the song and dance? Why the charade? Am I not being forward enough? Perhaps I should should try the 'lonely bachelor' angle.That tends to work best on sensitive women like this.

Tav raised a brow, her confusion genuine, but Astarion didn't believe it. He couldn't.

"No, I just think this suits you," she said.

Astarion scoffed, thrown by her sincerity. There was no hint of sarcasm or trickery in her tone. No indication that she was fulfilling some mundane kink by picking such an outfit. But it didn't make sense. He hadn't been particularly kind to her, and he was only good for one thing: sex. Surely that's what she was after.

"Did you not hear what I said?" he snapped. "That's something a pig farmer—"

"What's wrong with being a pig farmer?" she argued. "They work hard, live free, and dress for comfort."

"And I'll have you know, that outfit is not for farming," the shopkeeper added, visibly offended. "I mean, I suppose you could. It's certainly durable, but it's more for ... sophisticated roving."

"There you go," Tav giggled, harmlessly. "Don't you want to be a 'sophisticated rover', Astarion?"

He pulled back defensively, pursing his lips to hide his fangs. They live free? Dress for comfort? As if I ever had such a choice. She has no idea! His fingers curled into a fist.

"Are you ... mocking me? Is that what this is?"

Are you trying to dress your toy?!

The air around him felt charged, a palpable tension that made it difficult to breathe. A deep red flush spread across his neck, creeping up towards his pale face. The anger was sudden, but uncontrollable, and he didn't know why.

Calm down, you fool. This is nothing. You've been through worse. He screamed internally. So then, why does it hurt more than usual? Why is it worse when it's her?! I ... I don't want her to see me this way, but I know she does! Who wouldn't?!

"Mocking you?" Tav asked, breaking the silence.

She tilted her head, the simple act pulling Astarion from is raging stupor. Her eyes were innocent, unassuming. And of course they were—he hadn't yet told her the truth about Cazador. The details. The depravity.

Hold on. Is this ... real?

"What are you saying?" she peeped. "I brought you here because I noticed how worn out your clothes are. Thin with crooked replacement stitches." Astarion's throat tightened, trying not to blush. "I just thought you might like something new."

"I ... see."

"If you don't like the black and white..." She smiled and gestured to the shopkeeper. "We can order something with colour. Do you take commissions? Can my friend here make alterations?"

Friend?

"He can, and we do indeed sew to order. It just might take a while. I'm down a seamstress this month."

Astarion paused, their voices fading. He looked down at the sleeved tunic and accompanying vest that Tav held close to her chest. It was thick, surprisingly well crafted, and more fashionable than he initially dared to admit. For a moment, he felt his unbeating heart flutter. New clothes. A whole outfit, just for him. He'd forgotten what that felt like. What shopping for anything other than a victim for Cazador felt like.

Against his better judgement, he reached out and rubbed the material between his fingers. Twill. Handcrafted. Warm. He felt a tingle as he realised Tav didn't choose that outfit at random. She'd put a lot of thought into it.

"I want this one."

"Sorry?" Tav said, glancing up at him.

"This outfit." He tugged at the sleeve, gently. "I want this one."

She smiled. "Are you sure? You didn't seem overly thrilled about it a second ago."

"Tch! Well, I changed my mind," he hissed. "What can I say?" His eyes softened. "It's grown on me. Kind of like your ... annoyingly infectious positivity."

"Alright, alright," she laughed, ignoring his jibe. "Can you ring this up, sir?"

Astarion's back stiffened as she reached for her coin purse. Money, right. That hadn't crossed his mind. As horrible as Cazador was, everything needed was provided. When allowed to sleep on a bed, it was there. When Cazador's guests wanted wine, it was there. Anything needed to rope in victims was given. He hadn't had to buy anything in nearly two hundred years.

"Wait, I—"

"It's no problem," Tav said, sensing his conflict. "I'm happy to do this."

"But..." He frowned, crossing his arms. "Well, don't expect anything back. If that's what you're after, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

"I don't expect anything back, Astarion." She handed the shopkeeper a roll of gold coins, then turned to him with another tender smile. "I'm just glad to help out a friend."

Astarion stood in silence, his brow twitching. A thought occurred to him—two words he hadn't felt the desire to say in two centuries. Two words he'd almost forgotten. He shifted from side to side, looking anywhere but at her, desperate for an escape from the vulnerability pressing down on him.

But I think she truly means it.

"I..."

His mouth opened, then closed again. He cleared his throat, trying to speak, but the silence lingered. He could tell she expected nothing, but for once he wanted to give a part of himself, by choice. Just a few words. The feeling inside him grew, a swell of gratitude he couldn't quite contain. Finally, he sighed and met her eyes with a smile.

"Thank you."

[thehollowwriter]

Ok so since i love sad but bad boys i'm gonna ask blaze for your event-

How about reader(gender neutral or fem your choice) who is blaze's childhood friend and tries to make him realize what his mother wants is not what he wants

Thank you! (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

Hi! Sorry for the late reply! Yaaay a Blaze ask <3

Warnings: None. Word count: 520

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

Art by @/moonyasnow

Choose

Blaze sat on one of the rocks closest to the shimmering water of the sea, throwing and catching a smooth, circular rock as he stared at the horizon. It was painted with beautiful purples and oranges as the sun gradually dipped down to welcome the night, giving Blaze at least something to appreciate on this shitty shitty day.

"You should get in," you said to him from your spot within the water, your tail flicking back and forth happily. "The water's wonderful."

"No." Blaze muttered. He didn't feel like changing forms right now. It was such an exhausting process.

An awkward silence reigned for a moment. Blaze kept throwing and catching his rock. Eventually, you spoke. "Your mom again?"

Blaze didn't answer for a while. He stopped throwing the rock and stared at it, turning it over in his hands.

"...I didn't get a main role in our theatre production." He growled out after a while, his voice softer and rougher than usual. "Not even a side character. I'm... 'too wooden'. Mom says she's wasting money and time on me if this is what she gets back for all those acting lessons..." He put his head in his hands. "I'm tyring. I'm trying so hard, but she just doesn't care. Now she wants me to do lessons and advice from Vil fucking Schoenheit."

You didn't say anything for a while. The same string of thoughts you always had every time Blaze mentioned acting flooded through your mind.

'You shouldn't have to be an actor,' you wanted to say, 'Do what you want. Don't you want to choose what to do with your life?'

You rarely did, though. He got so upset every time. But a question on the tip of your tongue escaped before you could stop it.

"Blaze," you said before you could stop yourself. "Is acting what you really want to do? It's more your... your mom's wishes than your own."

Blaze glanced at you, then threw his rock. It skipped across the water before sinking below the waves and into the ocean's depths.

"Of course it's what I want!" He hissed venomously. "I don't even like Alchemy that much. It's just an interesting subject!"

You drew in a breath, refraining from pointing out that you never mentioned alchemy.

"But you don't like acting either." You insisted. "You always hate going to classes. You said you wanted to be in a different club too-"

"Because I hate hearing Vil talk like he's all that when his daddy's money gave him everything! I would like it if that bastard wasn't there!"

You grinded your teeth. "Blaze, you've never been happy about anything to do with acting. You don't like acting. This isn't what you want, Blaze, it's your mom who-"

"Will you shut up?" Blaze hissed. "I'm going to be an actor, and I'm to be Vil Schoenheit levels of famous! You can either support me like a good friend should or get lost."

There was a long pause.

"Okay, well," you said, hiding your hurt. You picked up a smooth circular stone of your own and threw it in the same direction as Blaze threw his. It only skipped a few times before sinking. "Best of luck."

A heavy silence reigned between the both of you. You stared at Blaze. You stared at his face, the way his jaw set in a grimace, and the way his eyes seemed to water.

He could do so much more, be so much more, but he didn't want to. Or he didn't think he could. It hurt to see. But you stayed silent.

You disappeared into the water and left Blaze to sit on his rock. Alone.

-End

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading! Blaze is a bit mean, sorry :(

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[anaalnathrakhs]

i feel it's so fucking stupid and ungrateful but it still hurts a little when someone gifts me something i just don't like. i don't know. i know it's dumb and inaccurate to astrain that much meaning to a simple gift, but it feels kinda like they don't know me. i guess it feels like people don't see me, like a reminder that the person i reflect and the person i feel like are incredibly different.

[mentalmob]

am understimulated and manic as hell ready to stick my hand in a blender because brain scratchy music wasn't ENOUGH and i realized way too late that physically stimming is like... an option lol

[thingsmysplattershotjrtoldme]

Ahem.....

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?

[s0dium]

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Synopsis: Ever wondered what JJK men with a heavy breeding kink would be like? Characters: Toji Fushiguro, Monsterform!Sukuna Ryomen, Gojo Satoru, Getou Suguru, Choso, Nanami Kento Warnings: Breeding, rough sex, praise, cum kink, Monsterform!Sukuna, masturbation, PUSSY DRUNK, fingering, nipple play, edging begging, mentions of pregnancy, mating press, overstimulation, marathon sex, degrading, cum kink, subspace, mirror sex, cowgirl

Toji Fushiguro 

It's almost a little game of his, how many times can he cum in you.

Loathes condoms. Toji hates the plastic flimsy things, but after Megumi he would probably be more cautious, his pull out game becomes stronger

The type to keep you plugged up for a bit with his dick after he cums

If any slips out he will use his thumb to slip it back it

Probably doesn't even ask. Every time you fuck him he is gonna cum into you. Such a slut, you deserve it.

“You're doing such a good job baby, taking this like a champ,” Toji moans between grunts, his eyes closed, tips of his ears bright red from the pleasure, and his black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. How long has Toji been dreaming about this exact moment? How many times did he fuck his fist to the image of how your pretty face looks right now? More importantly, he realizes, this is it, this is when he can fulfill his biggest fantasy that's been gnawing at his brain like a parasite; he can finally pump his cum into your sweet belly like he has fantasized about.

“Ngh~ too f-fast~” Tears trickled down your face and yet your hips were needly bucking up to take his dick like there was some how more of him to take. What a glutton for punishment you were, but soon that burning pain became something just as good, even better actually, delicious pleasure. You started to arch you back off the bed like a bow and you lock your legs around his back, holding yourself in place so he could fuck you like an animal. The sound of your hips meeting was so loud, that you were sure if any of your neighbors walked by would know what you were doing. Like you cared.

It's as if a primal need has taken hold of Toji, your pleas for him to slow down only go in and out of his ears. With every snap of his hips a creamy ring of arousal forms at his base from your arousal and his precrum. Each movement creates intense friction that heightens the pleasure and the collision of your bodies sends waves of ecstasy through you, making it impossible to hold back your moans. Each motion brings a profound sense of connection and exhilaration, intertwining you closer to the brink of overwhelming joy. The friction of Toji's dick rubbing your walls is enough to leave you breathless and eagerly anticipating each subsequent moment.

"G-gonna cum baby, your gonna take it." He is practically tumbling over his words now from the vice grip your pussy has on his cock. Thank god you are also nearing your peak because you don't know how much more your body can take, you need to use your legs tomorrow.

"Fuck fuck FUCK!" With a loud moan, Toji buries himself deep into your creamy pussy, relishing in the warm feeling, before pumping a heavy load of warm cum into your womb. His cum doesn't stop until your belly was swollen with the hot liquid and your toes curled from the pleasure. The heat spreads through your body, driving you to the edge of pleasure. The overwhelming sensation finally takes over, pushing you into a state of pure ecstasy.

As your pussy convulses, Toji doesn't leave the warmth of your cunt for a second, keeping you plugged and stuffed with his cum.

"Fell so good princess, ya feel like heaven."

Gojo Satoru 

You question whether this is all a dream. It's utterly euphoric, enveloped by every aspect of Gojo—his heady scent, the warmth of his skin, and his mesmerizing voice echoing in your ears. It's a sensory overload that feels almost too intense to be real.

“Oh, where did you float off too, princess?” he coos, watching the glossy, faraway look take over your eyes. Despite this, Gojo keeps up his brutal pace his breathing becoming jagged and irregular. There’s no warning when he comes.

"Love you," you babble, "Love you so much please c-cum in me." Your words are strung out on your lips from how fucking good you feel. As you succumb to each of his forceful, fast movements movements, waves of intense pleasure cascade through you.

“Shit” Gojo spoke through a gritted smile as he blew his load. Almost as if he was unfazed by his ejaculation, Gojo keeps sliding his member in and out, his milky semen leaking out as he continues to push into you relentlessly, not loosing a second of speed.

The sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room the sloshing of cum trapped inside you, his thrusts are not only slicker and frictionless with the help of his hot cum,

“M-mhm..” your humming earns a guttural groan from the male above you, “m’ Please don't stop Satoru please don't stop” you cry, and how could he not? Of course, he was going to fuck his second load into you especially when you asked so nicely.

Geto suguru

Above all else, Geto Suguru is a family man

There is nothing more he wants than to see your belly round with his kid, to watch your breasts swell with milk

“Fuck princess you feel so fucking good.” Geto’s words come out accompanied with a chuckle, basking in the way your walls hug his dick.

Straddling Geto Suguru, you feel the solid strength of his arms as he effortlessly lifts you up and down his dick. Each controlled movement is a testament to his power, his hands firm and guiding. Your body has gone slack at this point, the muscles in your legs too tired from its constant tremblings and tightening due to how deliciously he fucked you. Good? Try Euphoric. You were in heaven from the way the tip of his fat dick collided with your gspot. He uses you like a sex toy, shaping your walls with his cock.

Long stray black strands of hair fall from his loose bun as he leans over to whisper into your ear. “Want me to fill you up don't you? Watch you grow round our child—” One of his thumbs rolls over your hardened nubs as he gropes at your chest, causing you to keen at the added stimulation, "These will fill with sweet sweet milk, we’ll make sure there’s enough to share with me. Isn’t that what you want?”  Geto’s balls slap against your ass every time you bottom out on his dick.

“Oh fuh-“ His voice comes out breathless. You can feel each harsh contraction of his balls while he creams inside your pussy, such a tight fit that a ring of it seeps out at the base of where he’s connected to you. 

Choso

Choso cant count the number of times he’s touched himself to the thought of filling you up with cum over and over again, till glistening tears streamed down your pretty face and you were meekly begging him to stop. 

He doesn't know why but to Choso, its almost instinct to breed you up, and how could he resist? From the way your hips swayed to your honey-coated whines that escaped your mouth when he aggressively kissed you, you were practically asking for it. 

“Cho~!” you coo, reaching up and planting messy kisses along his chin. Heavy, hot pants escaped both of your mouths as your hips struggled to meet his brutal pace, to no avail.

Quite frankly Choso didn't know how much longer he could keep this up, of course, he knew you’d feel good, but not this good. Fuck, his fleshlight felt like sandpaper compared to the way your gummy walls sucked and spasmed around him. 

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me please don't sto-” You cut yourself off with as squeal when you felt Choso pull out for a quick second before slamming back into you with a grunt; the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. 

“Mm’feel so good baby, m’so good y/n” Choso whines were muffled due to how his face was buried in the crook of your neck, your scent only serving to bring him closer and closer to the edge. “m’ gonna cum- princess m’gonna cum inside.” he cuts of with a groan of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your walls.

Nanami Kento

See the thing is, Nanami didn't even know he had a breeding kink

It wasn't until he came in you for the first time, it wasn't until he watched it spill out and cover your pussy in a creamy white glaze that he became addicted. 

From that point on, Nanami loathed condoms. 

The side of your mouth was a mess of dripping drool. Legs spread apart by the crooks of his elbows, you let our a strangled whine as you watched Nanami hammer himself into you like a starved man. 

“Nanami!” you sob, reaching up to bury your face in his neck, “Please cum in me please!”

“F-fuck y/n, what did you just say?” He groans, brows furrowed and arm muscles straining as he continues to hold your hips in a death grip and fuck you. You met his stare, breathing heavily with sweat dotting your brow.

“I-I, want you to cum in me… please.” Brown eyes widen at your words, causing a warm rush of pleasure to spread through your tummy and tighten the coil.

“Oh, you filthy little fuck.” His movements began with renewed vigor, hips snapping against you almost painfully as you moaned without restraint. You felt full; completely stuffed by Nanami as he stretched your hole with every thrust.

Sukuna Ryomen

One of the many kinks the curse has

Nothing, and he means nothing is more satisfying than pressing down on your tummy and watching the load of cum spill out from you.

And whats the harm if you get knocked up while he’s at it? The king of all curses needs an heir anyways. 

A hum of satisfaction escaped as he watched your used battered body twitch in the reflection of the mirror every time Sukuna teasingly rubbed your clit in half circles with his thumb. 

“Beautiful girl, such a natural submissive”.

Two of the curse's other muscular hands played with your nipples, twisting and running over them with his index finger and thumb, flicking over them like one would turning on and off a light switch. How long have you been sitting in his dick, letting fingers work your clit and nipples to the very brink of a mind splitting orgasm, only for the high to be snatched away from you?

“Look at you” Sukuna hummed, his giving a teasing thrust right into your cervix making you gasp for air. You needed more movement, you needed friction; sitting on his dick spread in front of a mirror wasn't enough. “So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his fingers moved over your clit.

“Don't worry little thing, I’ll fill you up soon.”

[hellishattempt]

nanami kento comes home on a saturday afternoon, hands full of groceries and hair freshly cut. in the distance, he hears his precious wife humming along to her favorite soundtrack. you must not have heard him come in. he smiles to himself, setting the groceries on the counter, but not unloading them. that can wait. right now, he wants to hold you.

he slips out of his shoes, padding quietly to the laundry room where you are folding towels. you have your back to him, headphones lodged in your ears. as nanami gets closer, the music bleeding from your headphones becomes audible. he chuckles softly. no matter how many times he tells you it's bad for your ears, you insist on listening to your music at just below full volume.

snaking his arms around your waist, you jump at the sudden contact. nanami presses his chest against your back as you take out your headphones, leaning into his touch. you sway in silence for a moment, nanami resting his chin on your shoulder. when you turn to face him, your expression changes at the sight of his hair.

"your hair," you state dumbly. "you cut it."

"yes," your husband muses. "is there something wrong with it?"

"no, no!" you assure nanami, studying his hair. "i just wasn't expecting it. you normally have me do it, which you know i don't mind doing."

"i know, but i didn't want to bother you on your cleaning day."

your expression softens at his words. nanami, your ever loving, ever caring husband, always thinking about you before himself. you reach one hand up, smoothing the hair down the back of his neck. as you bring your hand up, the freshly cut hair pricks your palm, and nanami lets out a low hiss.

you immediately apologize, pulling away. "did that hurt?"

"yes, but it's okay. it felt... good," nanami confessed. "... do it again. please." his voice is thick and demanding, and you obey without hesitation.

this time, you use just the tips of your fingertips to graze his undercut, beginning at the base of his neck. his breathing quickens as you continue to to run your hands through his undercut, going up and down, switching from one hand to both, thumbs caressing the sides of the cut. the laundry room fills with his melodic whimpers and faint groans. his eyes are shut tight, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

"fuck..." he cusses lowly.

"you okay, nani?" you giggle, stopping momentarily. his eyes flash open, pupils blown. "kento?"

"let's go to the bedroom," he insisted, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the master bedroom. you barely have time react before nanami pushes you back on to the bed, practically ripping your leggings off.

"kento, what are you doin-" you try to protest, his hands clamping around your wrist and bringing them down to grip his hair. his head disappears between your leg, lips latching around your clit. involuntarily, your fingers tighten around his sharp undercut. he moans into your cunt, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through your body.

from then on, nanami kento always got an undercut.