#the haughty puppy

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Team Sexy Card Story

So, the premise here in these card stories is that in order for the five vain dudes (from Team Sexy of the voting showdown - see this summary here to read their story) to show off their manly bods charms, they decide to have portraits painted by a court painter. This takes place after Emma and the suitor are a couple…

In Silvio's room at the Rhodolite castle…

“Silvio, you were so cool!”

Emma’s declaration is met with silence, and she tries again. “All that gold was pocket change for you, and you’ve got the body of a man of the sea.”

Still, there’s no reaction from Silvio.

“I totally fell for you all over again!” she tells him. 

He doesn’t reply or respond even to that - total crickets. 

Jin and Clavis’ pranks had led to Silvio being practically forced into stripping his clothes and posing for a portrait, and to say he’s in a foul mood over it would be the understatement of the year. Emma is doing her best to try and cheer him up, but he doesn’t seem to be paying her any mind. Instead he’s lying facedown on the bed, motionless. Sulking.

“You’re shite at this. You think some clichéd junk like that is going to make me feel better?” his muffled voice asks.

Emma’s grumbling under her breath about what a pain in the ass he is.

“Hey, I can hear you.” Silvio finally lifts his head from beside her and tousles her hair roughly. 

She tells him he doesn’t have any reason to be embarrassed, and he argues that he’s not, but she points out that his face was a bit red while he was posing. 

“...Shut up,” he huffs. 

“You should be used to posing for portraits,” she continues pressing, and he scoffs that of course he is - but why should he have to leave such a stupidly dressed (or undressed) portrait to posterity?

Emma confesses that some of that is in service to Jin and Clavis’ shenanigans…aaaand it’s also kinda for her. >.>

“Huh?” Silvio looks startled at her admission.

She’d wanted to keep this part a secret, but she owns up to it now. “I made a secret deal with Clavis, and I’m supposed to get the portrait later. That way, even if you’re not around, as long as I have the painting I can see you.” He’s silent at that, and she also admits to being heckin embarrassed at having told him that. 

“I bet,” he says, before he scowls. “Ahhh, damn it all.”

He sits up in a flash and grabs Emma, putting a hand behind her head and yanking her towards him ferociously - only for her lips to be sealed by something soft. 

When she protests how that just came out of nowhere without any warning, he tells her to be quiet. “It’s because you say the dumbest things.” He nips at her lips, his tongue finding hers, and the heat that fills his sea-colored eyes this time isn’t embarrassment. “If you have the time to be staring at my portrait when you’re missing me, then call for me.”

“And you’ll come running?” she asks. He grins and says if she insists, and she presses the question further. “Even when you’re at sea?”

“If that’s the case, I’ll just have to take you with me. Seeing as how you’re the lonely type and all?”

She’s trying to figure out how he can say the most charming things sometimes, for someone who’s such a tsundere embarrassed disaster most of the time. And this time it’s she who loops her arms around Silvio’s neck and drops a kiss on his lips. Lingering a little before pulling back to find her tyrant’s cheeks clearly blushing. 

“The real thing is definitely better,” she proclaims.

“Obviously,” Silvio says. “I don’t love you half-assed enough to lose to a painting.” 

She has to admit to herself that’s true…and that when she’s with Silvio, she doesn’t have time to be looking at any portraits anyways. Their kiss deepens as they fall back on the bed together, and the night goes on - full of loveliness and affection that no painting could ever convey.

[bruisedboys]

love drunk — miguel o’hara x reader

summary — while miguel deals with a drunk and clingy you, you accidentally let it slip that you love him. requested here

grumpy x sunshine!! spidergirl!reader, no pronouns used but implied fem!reader, grumpy miguel, kind of ditzy reader, drunk reader, established relationship, first ‘I love you’ trope, miguel being lovesick, fluff. so much fluff

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implied fem!reader 1.3k words

Miguel thinks he should never let you drink again in your whole life.

“Y/N,” he says through gritted teeth, irritated now. Actually, he was irritated ten minutes ago but was doing a better job at hiding it. “Come on. Get off me.”

You’re dead weight in his lap. He wouldn’t mind, he likes when you sit on him like this, only you’re in the middle of the bar and there are at least five Peter’s looking his way and smirking, and he can see Hobie Brown laughing at him behind his hand across the room.

“Whyyyyy?” You drawl, your lips slow and your tongue slower. You paw at his chest and give him a glare that’s about as menacing as a puppy. “You’re so mean.”

Miguel sighs heavily. He picks up his hands where they’d been hovering at your sides, unsure whether he should touch you or not when you’re like this, and gets a good grip on your hips.

“C’mon, get up,” he says. He lifts you off his lap with ease, fingers curling around your hips, and deposits you in the booth seat next to him.

To Miguel’s surprise, you don’t flop into his side or try to climb back onto him like he thought you would. Where seconds ago you were like a rag doll, you sit rigid straight.

“What?” He asks you, genuinely confused.

“Sorry,” you say quietly, frowning to yourself. “I didn’t mean that. You’re not mean.”

Miguel blinks at you. “Oh. No, that’s not why I made you get off, sweetheart. I know you don’t actually think I’m mean.”

Slowly, you brighten up like a wind up toy, springing back to life in slow motion with a big smile painting itself across your mouth, all teeth. “Oh, okay. Can I get back on you now?”

Miguel actually laughs. He’s very tempted to say yes, you can sit in his lap as long as you like. He doesn’t, mostly because you’re very obviously past your limit and you need a bed and some water. Neither of which he can get you here.

“You’re funny, cariño,” he tells you, chucking you under the chin with his knuckles. You beam up at him, eyes squinting so much they’re half closed. He indulges himself in a squeezing of your cheek before breaking the news, “No, you can’t get back on me—“ Your face falls, “—But I can take you to bed?”

Your smile comes back so quick it’s alarming, and you nod vehemently. “Yeah, please.”

Miguel manages to get you out of the Spider-Bar (nicknamed by one of the Peter’s, he can’t remember which but Miguel refuses to call it that. It’s just a section off the second floor of Headquarters where Spider-people migrate to drink.) without you tripping over your own feet. He’s discovering you’re a very clumsy, clingy drunk. That, and you really can’t hold your liquor. He’s only had a little less than you and he feels completely fine. Other than the burning in his chest, though he’s pretty sure that has more to do with you and your presence than the alcohol.

He gets you into an elevator and holds you up when you slouch into his side. His arm around your hip and both of your hands clinging like vines to his free arm, tight enough to ache but he can’t bring himself to ask you to loosen your grip a little. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t enjoy your apparent desperation to stick to him like glue.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. A gaggle of Spider-Women wait on the other side, Jess among them. The younger girls giggle amongst themselves when they see the predicament they’ve caught their haughty boss in.

“Hey, Miguel,” Jess drawls as she sidles past him, Miguel practically dragging you out of the elevator now and out of the way of the girls. “Hey, Y/N.” She grins at your inebriated state, then looks to Miguel, “Early night?”

It’s almost midnight. Miguel can’t tell if she’s teasing or not. She probably is. “Yeah.”

“Miguel’s taking me to bed,” you pipe up, a lustful tone to your sticky, slurry voice that Miguel winces at. He hadn’t meant it like that. Clearly, your drunk mind had taken it that way. He’ll be sure to set the record straight once you’re safe and alone in his room.

Jess laughs loud. “Right. Well, have fun with that.”

She’s still laughing as the elevator doors slide shut. Miguel sighs. He’s not gonna hear the end of that for at least a week. You tug on his arm and smile up at him sweetly, and he forgets all about it.

“What is it, cariño?” He hums.

“Can you carry me? My feet are sore.”

Miguel indulges you. Partly because you’d asked and he’s yet again been tasked with the challenge of saying no to you (which he fails at every time), and partly because you’re slowing him down and he really wants to get to his room before he meets anyone else. He scoops you up easily, one arm hooked beneath your thighs and the other under your back. You giggle dazedly and hook your arms around his neck tight enough that it’d hurt anyone but Miguel, burying your face in his neck, your flyaway hair tickling his skin.

By the time he gets you to his room you’re half asleep in his arms. He’d let you sleep but your suit is constricting. He deposits you on the bed in the dark and switches on the lamp. He only manages to turn on his heels before you’re grabbing his arm, warm hand wrapping around his wrist with a clumsy desperation.

“Don’t go,” you murmur, eyes half closed.

Miguel pries your hand away gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Just getting your pyjamas.”

You allow it but you make a grab for him as soon as he’s back, hands warm at his waist. He stands in front of you and undresses you out of your spidersuit, then redresses you into the pyjamas you keep in his room. You keep quiet other than the occasional hiccup and despite your amorous comment earlier you don’t try anything, even when you’re completely bare-chested and Miguel is standing over you. While he pulls your shirt over you head, your hands find his hips and grip them like somebody’s trying to take him away from you.

He gives you a glass of water which you skull back like you’re about to die of thirst. He refills the glass and when he comes back you’ve turned the light off and buried yourself under the covers. He thinks you’re asleep until he goes to put the glass on the bedside table and your hand sneaks out of the sheets, reaching for him.

“Miguel…” you murmur, fingers brushing his abdomen. You tilt your head up towards him, searching for him in the dark.

“You okay?” He asks, concerned you’re not feeling well. He hopes you’re not the kind of drunk who throws up everything they drank. Though he can’t say he’d mind looking after you even if you were.

“I’m fine,” you say softly. It’s dark and he can barely see your face but he hears your next words just fine. “Thank you for looking after me … I love you.”

Miguel is so shocked he almost drops the glass of water he’s holding. Sure, he knew you had feelings for him. He knew you care for him about as much as he does for you, which is an inordinate amount. To hear you say it is different. His fondness for you multiplies by about a million and the chasm in his chest feels, not for the first time since he met you, a little bit smaller.

He knows you probably won’t remember it in the morning, but it’s been said and his chest is aflame. He sets the cup down and then crouches next to your lovely, tired face, and cups your cheek. He presses a soft kiss to your temple, and then your lips. Your eyelashes flutter as your eyes fall shut and you smile.

Miguel waits til he’s sure you’re asleep to say it back — vulnerability’s never really been his strong suit. He tucks hair away from your face, feeling a bit drunk himself. Just not from anything he drank. “I love you too, mi amor.”

[cattolino]

little bit of advice, take the dare.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader. warnings: profanities, implied exhibitionism, dirty truth or dare (more like dare or dare...), stripping, mild grinding, dirty talks. genre: implied rivals to lovers, implied smut. rating: mature. word count: 2.1k

“Let Chan strip two pieces of your clothing.”

These little bitches.

The innocence in Seungmin’s broad grin as he delivered aloud and clear what Minho had earlier whispered in his ear wasn’t able to deceit Chan the slightest in spite of it combined with that sparkly attentive puppy stare.

A foul scheme had been carefully arranged in those two cunning heads of theirs before they instigated this truth or dare game as soon as the majority of people returned home. Chan wasn’t oblivious of what he would get himself into the moment Minho escorted him from the drinking game in the back patio to a coffee table in the living room and begged him to join in the fun. Especially when you were one of the people centering around the table.

And so Chan was down for whatever challenges thrown his way no matter truth or dare it was that he ended up choosing. Wouldn’t really matter. Except now it was your turn, yet he was somehow involved in such a risque dare so early in the game.

Seungmin’s index finger pointed around the room twice, attracting the attention of the few people close enough to the table to see what he was up to, and he added, “or let anyone in the room. Your choice.”

As though he expected you would actually pick one of the sweaty and tipsy dimwits you barely knew of instead of Chan who you were certainly more familiar with. When, seriously, it was clear to Chan that both Seungmin and Minho wanted to prove him wrong— that the possibility of you romantically attracted to one another wasn’t even close to impossible despite the banter between the two of you sometimes getting out of hand.

The banter, Seungmin and Minho insisted, was a flirting attempt.

You leaned back onto the sofa behind you, crossing your arms with a stare of haughty disdain piercing through Seungmin and Minho’s who both seemed to be just as imperious.

“I was expecting a more daring one from you horny freaks,” your eyes then landed on Chan who was sitting across from you. Not looking away, your proud smile widened into a blithe grin, “this isn’t even his dare. But if he’s down, I don’t see why I have to back down.”

Chan stretched his arms and arched his back as a dramatic warmup before downing the remaining liquor in his red cup, earning supportive laughs from the excessively excited spectators around. “As long as you don’t back down if they involve you in my dares later.”

Getting up from the floor, you rounded the table and stood before him. You mirrored the smug grin that stretched across his face as he peered up at you, “pants and sweater then, gentleman.”

Despite the profuse tease that gleamed in your irises, Chan didn’t entertain you with even a slight wavering in the way he looked back up at you. Instead, taunting you with a faux innocent tilt of his head as his firm yet tender fingers began to toy with the button of your jeans.

The waistband of your black panties as if emerged once he slid down the zipper. He wasn’t sure if your hand placement on the crown of his head was unintended, but then your lips tilted up into a smile and your brow arched challengingly as your fingers ran through the soft tresses of his brown curls.

Encouraged, he lifted the hem of your sweater, exposing just enough of your bare stomach. His other palm smothered around your waist and landed on the small of your back, drawing you closer until his lips accidentally brushed against the bare skin of your stomach.

Chan’s hearts didn’t leap at his own sly, dirty initiation.

It didn’t. Definitely not.

Perhaps one could cut the air with a knife as the tension between you two was thickening the longer he took his time sliding the pants off your waist and the tighter you had his hair gripped in your palm. But everyone else was too preoccupied with keeping track of his veiny hands lingering around the waistband of your jeans, tugging down the denims at an intentionally slow pace.

In one glance, nothing of your true emotions was shown through your perfunctory facade. But Chan was practically on his knees, hands on you, and there was less than two inches gap between his lips and your stomach. Anything changed from your stance, he could easily catch it.

So when he felt you tensed up when he tantalized you by skimming his palm down the side of your thigh as the other pulled the jeans down to pool around your ankles, he had to fight back the triumphant grin he felt was close to spread on his face.

Once the pants were tossed somewhere on the floor, Chan got up on his feet as you held your arms up for him to take your knitted sweater off over your head.

His eyes peered down at where the bare skin of your stomach was supposed to be on full display as he pulled the hem of your sweater up. The underband of your bralette was slowly showing the higher the hem of your sweater was lifted.

He drew closer, lips lingered on your ear, chuckling and murmuring out of everyone’s earshot, “should’ve made you rid of three garments instead of two. What a shame.”

You ran your palms down along his torso as soon as your sweater was off your upper half, and you leaned in to whisper in his ear where nobody else could hear, too. “Next time it’s your turn, I’ll make you stand on the porch naked.”

Shameless gasps of “oh fuck” was heard from around you as you casually sat down with only high cut panties and black bralette. Chan could easily relate. He found himself checking you out when you weren’t looking.

He was grateful of the sudden rough smack on his thigh that brought him back to his senses. He looked to his left where the hand was from and Minho shot him a knowing look before leaning over to mutter, “you fucking pervert.”

He chuckled. Perhaps he was.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!” Felix chippered lovely squeaks and giggles as he bounced up and down on the carpeted floor in anticipation. More because the game had progressed into all the more obscene to earlier than he had expected. Don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face.

Chan just had to dissolve into laughter and squeaks and giggles when the bottle cap once again pointed in your direction. Twice in a row, it was. He threw his head back laughing when your jaw plunged into the ground in disbelief and eyes narrowed into slits in spite, feeling betrayed— by the bottle.

“Sit on Chan’s lap.” Jeongin smugly declared before anyone could even think of something potent to embarrass yourself, effectively shutting down the jeers and laughter as they contemplated.

You shrugged, once again rounding the table to where Chan was perched on the floor and nonchalantly settled your ass on his lap before he could protest.

Chan, on the other hand, grasped either side of your waist tightly and tried to prevent you from dwelling on that particular spot. But you persisted on reclining your back onto his chest, shoving your ass further down to where Chan could feel himself twitch.

“Fuck you.” He cursed against your neck when you slightly wiggled your lower half.

“Quit being a jerk,” you whispered back with a chuckle, but tone laced with genuine threat, “or I’ll make you wet your pants. Literally.”

Not even thirty minutes into the game that everyone around the table was a little tipsy with signs of either misery and happiness written on their faces.

With five people being out of the circle and off to the back patio for a lot more lame drinking  game with other football players, the remaining nine still held out in place to seek revenge.

Minho had tasted his own medicine as he was left with only briefs around his waist but not that he was unhappy about it as he’d gotten to proudly present his hard-earned well built body when you had Jisung leave three hickeys on his shoulders and two on his inner thigh. Jisung had solid yellow face paint all over his face, exactly resembling Looney Tunes’ Tweety.

Hyunjin was sprawled on the floor with occasional dramatic huffs and groans after he’d called his problematic ex and told him he’d been missing him. Changbin and Felix were disgustingly glued to one another after the older prolonged the supposedly five-second kiss. Seungmin had collected lipstick marks around his neck from ten people. Jeongin almost passed out from seven slices of pizza he’d had to finish before Seungmin returned.

And Chan was about to get his second turn after the top of the bottle pointed at him and you, who was still very much comfortably perched on his lap.

“Dare.” He didn’t even hesitate, calm and confident.

Not even when Minho slightly shoved himself forward to gain everyone’s attention. A little lift at the corner of his lips didn’t go unnoticed and for some reason, Chan was even anticipating what the little bitch had to say now.

“Are people still doing seven minutes in heaven?” Minho blurted, making Felix perk up instantly.

Hyunjin abruptly ended his dramatic disintegration and sat down with a gasp. “Oh my god,” he started, “I did it a year ago at a frat party with a guy except we weren’t allowed to say anything. Not a single fucking sound ‘cause one of them was sitting in the front of the door and if they heard even a small bit of me moaning, we’d have to walk to class the next day with extremely short fucking miniskirt. Imagine such suffering I had to bear while a hot guy blew me. He was great though.”

Wonder-stricken looks were instead what the taller got from everyone in the room. Minho was especially beaming at the deliberate suggestion and against his better judgement, his eyes landed on Chan whose chin rested on your shoulder. The older raised a brow in amusement when catching him staring, already seeing through the younger’s impish smirk.

Seungmin turned towards Minho, “I vote for what exactly Hyunjin did.”

Minho chuckled, “slow down, my guy. Our Channie doesn’t have to get someone suck him off. He can do whatever he pleases behind the door. But not. A single. Fucking. Sound.” He firmly suggested as he looked Chan dead in the eye. Insisted, even, perhaps, “or Changbin would love to lend his sister’s pink tutu.”

While Chan’s expression was hard to read, the rest seemed to be pleased. Excited, even.

You straightforwardly approved of Minho’s suggestion, ripping through the sound of supportive cheers from the others with an excited squeak after taking a sip of cheap beer from your cup, “I volunteer to sit at the door.”

Chan snorted behind you, “who says you’re not coming with me?”

A noisy commotion of “ooooohhh” and dramatic “aaaaahhh” immediately collided with the blaring EDM played in the background.

He’d thought you would never run out of snide remarks to shoot back at him at a time like this. So when you choked on your drink at his candidness, he couldn’t hold back a laugh.

Felix unattached himself from Changbin’s arm, hands flailing before his own face as he grinned so brightly that the dim room no longer seemed to be as dim as it was supposed to be. Once again, don’t be fooled by such an irradiant, angelic face. “Okay, look. You got seven minutes. Choose your person. No sounds allowed. We’ll set the timer once the door’s shut.”

“That room’s empty.” Changbin added with a snicker, nodding at the door to his roommate’s room, “he’s gone for two weeks. Just don’t make a mess.”

If Chan was surprised at how he managed to manhandle you and somehow scoop you up as he got on his feet, it didn’t show on his face. You securely wrapped yourself around his upper half, a long list of filthiest profanity was at the tip of your tongue at the sudden, unannounced move.

Chan blinked. Not breaking eye contact, his tongue brushed over the upper row of his pearly teeth before those sank in his lower lip. There might be a lack of reaction shown on your face as you seemed to be still as annoyed, but the faint pinkish tint that stained your cheeks had said so much already.

He glanced over to Changbin, nodding, “worry not. I’ll swallow everything y/n has to give me.”

“You better,” your irritated stare tapered off into that of a challenging glare injecting venom straight into his dimpled grin, “or I’ll make you wear the tutu.”

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[tuxedo-rabbit]

Shadowheart acts very cold and haughty when you first meet her, but as soon as you respect her boundaries and show genuine kindness to her she melts into the sweetest woman with the biggest puppy dog eyes I've ever seen in a game.

[zhongrin]

cium aku dong?

◇ characters ◇ zhongli, childe, wanderer, cyno, al haitham, tighnari, xiao, ayato, diluc, kaeya, kazuha, kaveh, thoma, dottore, pantalone

◇ tags ◇ fluff, domestic, established relationship, kisses. LOTS of kisses (duh), slight angst (kaeya i'm so sorry), slight suggestiveness on some, slight possessiveness on some

◇ a/n ◇ [en] “kiss me please?” aka the ways they ask for a kiss <3 uh? what... what do you mean i clearly have favorites? i-i don't..... *nervous sweating* ANYWAY. merry xmas yall!! we all deserve fluff this holiday season so enjoy <3

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

“can i have my special tea?”

“darling, may i?”

zhongli is a natural at pulling you in for a kiss; most of the time he doesn’t expect you to kiss back, but he would be over the moon if you do.

you’re passing each other in the hallway of your house? he just leans towards you to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder. you’re doing something and he passes behind you? he leans over to place a kiss on the top of your head and goes off his way. you sit beside him and plop your head on his shoulder? he smiles and scratches your scalp and places a sweet kiss on your forehead.

unfortunately (for you), on some occasions when he’s feeling a little playful, he might become a little tease; kissing you everywhere but your lips until you protest. to which he’ll chuckle fondly before finally giving in, pressing a soft fleeting kiss that promises you more when the curtains close for the day.

“kiss meeeeeeeee!!!!”

“[name]…. who was that person....?”

childe is a master of surprise kisses! he makes use of his skill to erase his presence to sneak up on you when you’re relaxing, before suddenly tackling you into a hug and kissing you all over your face.

when he’s in the mood for kisses, he becomes a ravenous kissing monster who can only be satiated after at least fifty proper kisses. or perhaps a few rounds of long, drawn-out make-out sessions.

just don’t deny him of his kisses because then he’ll brood and it’ll be his poor subordinates who get the burnt of his frustration. and if you get gifts on your doorstep with a recruit insignia badge, you probably should storm your boyfriend’s office before he actually kills someone.

“what? what’s that look for? heh, if you wanted a kiss you could’ve just asked. i~diot.” *cue the heart-piercing, soul-ascending blep*

“hey. come here.”

wanderer is either endlessly taunting you for the whole day, or being very blunt (while blushing furiously) as he motions you to come over. there’s no in-between.

you either kiss him, which will result in a smug smirk and perhaps a haughty ‘hmph, knew you can’t get enough of me’. or you just don’t… which means you’ve indirectly signed an agreement for him to be a total brat™️ for the day until he’s satisfied.

ohhh how unfortunate, your favorite scarf is blown away by the wind. ooooh, seems like it’s raining and there’s no shelter, too bad you don’t have a hat that can function as an umbrella. ooooo, what’s that? you want a hug?

ha.

in. your. dreams.

and yet when you kiss him he melts into you within 0.001 seconds.

“[name], did you know? sloths never kiss on the first date…… they take it slow.”

“can i… hold you? just for a bit?”

when the kiss puns start to drop left right and center, you know it’s cyno’s way to ask for a kiss.

... the man uses his jokes to get people to be less way of them instead of saying it out loud, what did you expect?

he might not realize it, but he stares at you especially hard on these occasions. if it were others, they would have feared for your life, but you know this is cyno’s version of the infamous wet puppy eyes. personally, you think it’s very adorable because it’s so very him, so you can’t help but pretend you don't understand just to tease him more.

the population thinks you must be some kind of a beast tamer in your past life, seeing as how the general mahamatra always faithfully follows behind you and always back down as soon as your touch descends upon him.

“you’re here. come sit. now kiss me.”

“i need to kiss you so you can testify to kaveh that i am, in fact, not an amateur when it comes to kissing. it would also be good if you can rate your satisfaction on a scale of one to ten- [name], where are you going?”

at the early stages of your relationship, al haitham isn't as insufferable; he takes what he gets, and he’s taking the time to get used to the idea of how he practically has the right to kiss you now.

but when that realization fully, truly sinks in?

oh boy.

he’ll be blunt, straight to the point, and unashamed. he might be blushing the first few times when he asked for your permission for a kiss. but seeing how much you got into it, hearing the breathless way you whisper his name, and witnessing the dopey smile after he’s done with you…

aha. eureka. it appears his expertise extends to kissing too. but of course, he is, as the youngsters these days say, ‘built different’, after all.

so why would he shy away from the activity?

now come kiss him.

“did you know that fennec foxes go through withdrawals when they don’t receive at least ten kisses per day? it’s true, i have conducted extensive research on it. with me as the research subject, of course, so i know the result is 99.99% reliable.”

“there, i gave you headpats. now will you give me kisses?”

always so dramatic and sassy. tighnari loves seeing the embarrassed look that crosses your face and the adorable giggles that escapes you whenever he tries to initiate the activity.

the fox hybrid likes to pat your head and lean forward so you can press a thank you kiss to his face. he doesn’t even mind where your kiss will land.

nose? kinda ticklish, but that’s very cute of you. cheek? adorable, why thank you. lips? hmmm… do that again.

“……….. what? i-i wasn’t staring!”

“[name], just a moment…. stay still.”

please just save xiao the embarrassment and kiss him regularly.

although your boyfriend might not look like he enjoys affection, he actually does. he’s just… not used to it and has no idea how to react, much less initiate physical affection. it’s something that he needs a lot of time to get used to, especially with his condition and background.

your protector yaksha is always so gentle when he asks for your loving touches - and most of the time he doesn’t even dare to ask - but the signs are there. you’ll really have to squint your eyes and tilt your head and maybe do a handstand before you realize ‘oh he wants a kiss’.

just. cuddle and kiss him darn it.

“my, what a fine morning, don’t you agree, sweetheart? it would be even more perfect if i had a morning kiss from my lovely partner, don’t you think?”

“there you are. lock the door for me, darling. now, why don't you make yourself comfortable?”

teasing words here and there, his hand touching your arm more than usual, him stopping when you pass each other in the hallway to make some insignificant small talk even though he’s clearly hurrying to a meeting…

yeah, your overworked man is in dire need of some loving.

if you give in and pull ayato for a quick kiss, he will skip over to his next appointment with a permanent smile. once again, you’ve saved the day of everyone in kamisato estate. great work, you! pat yourself on the back because you deserved it!

but continue to ignore him and you might find yourself being called to his office just to sit on his lap for hours (which, trust me, it gets boring after a while) without kisses or any sort of affection whatsoever... so pick your actions carefully.

“i know i should be working. but i wanted to… take a break.”

“love, your lips… n-no. it's just that. um. they look dry. here, use my chapstick.”

diluc? taking a break from work??

that diluc???

either he is very sick, or he is very much starved for your love. kindly think back on your day and check when was the last time you gave him a proper kiss, please.

what's that? you gave him a forehead kiss this morning to wake him up? oh. i’m sorry to say this but that’s just not enough. how dare you starve this man for four hours with no kisses. no wonder he’s unable to focus on his documents. please fulfill his lovesick daydream by barging into his office and distracting him from work with your wonderful, soft lips….

... please?

“work? mmm…. unfortunately my battery is near-empty… o kind, beautiful soul, would you help this poor man back to his feet?”

“hello my love, i came by because your lips look lonely.”

kaeya is very obviously a teasing flirt when he’s needy or bored. mostly he adores the embarrassed look on your face; he thinks it's very adorable and endearing. it's a sight he wishes to treasure and forever imprint in his mind, to peruse when doubt and darker thoughts attack him at night.

but let me tell you a secret.

yank his stupid coat and pull him into a kiss before he can use that sultry voice to tease you. kabedon him when you have the chance to, while you’re at it. watch the cavalry captain become putty in your hands. you’re welcome <3

“my dove, would you be so kind to quench this wandering man’s thirst for your sweet kisses?”

“it’s rather windy today… there you go, all set. ah, it's okay, i'm not cold. oh, i forgot. just one more thing- *kiss*…. hehe, i can see that you’re warming up already.”

longing looks and poetic words. kazuha kisses you like it’s a stray wind brushing gently on your lips, light and dreamy and leaving you wanting for more. his ruby eyes will droop with affection as you whine and pull him back for more contact. well, who is he to reject your generous invitation?

soon enough one peck becomes two, two becomes three, and then it turns into a soft makeout session and- oh is that beidou yelling at you both to get a room? haha, it seems like it’s time to change locations…

“[name] look, i finished the blueprint for our dream house! huh? oh, yeah this is the… what, fifth blueprint? well, i can’t help it! we should have at least seven houses in all seven nations- eh? t-the mora? uhhhhh…”

“i need… i need inspiration… my muse… i need my muse…”

you know it’s bad bad when kaveh trudges onto your side like a zombie that’s been out running after people’s brains for far too long.

he slumps onto you completely (good luck supporting a claymore user) and basks in your presence, arms wound tight on your middle section. it seems like you’ve deprived him of kisses for far too long. he’ll recover faster if you hug him back and run your fingers through his silky locks. when he pulls back slightly to pout at you, and you place a sweet kiss on his lips, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch.

the legendary architect's eyes widen and his downturned lips flip upside down. he kisses you back with vigor and runs back to his drawing room shouting about some new calculations and other kind of materials he could use. what a dork.

“[name]….” *insert the most adorable, heart-wrenching, chest-squeezing, wet puppy eyes here*

“i’ll be going now. have a good day, okay? i love you!”

like a faithful shiba inu, thoma beams and stares at you expectantly near the front door of your shared residence, waiting for that kiss you never fail to give him every single time he’s about to head out to work in the mornings.

will you ignore him and risk getting ayaka to visit you because ‘thoma seems very sad and distracted today, did you have a fight? why don’t you talk it out, i know you both treasure each other', or will you be an angel and make him start his day with the loveliest gift you can bestow your loyal lover?

“based on the monitoring data of your hormones over the past few hours, it seems that you’re in need of kisses. what? me, lying? making up facts? listen to me. who’s the doctor in this relationship?”

“it appears another segment of mine has been granted the privilege of a kiss, so i demand equal treatment.”

sure, doc. hormones screaming for a kiss. will experience lethargy for the rest of the day if not fulfilled. immediate treatment is preferred as he does not want to be stuck with a grumpy, needy lover for the rest of the day, blah blah blah-

look. i'll translate for you.

he wants a kiss. dottore wants a kiss. just give the mad doctor a kiss.

huh? which segment do you give a kiss to?

….. it seems like all of them want a kiss. you know, just to be fair.

good luck.

“good day, darling. i see that you’re wearing the necklace i bought you yesterday. you look ravishing indeed.”

“come here, love. i won’t ask twice.”

with every compliment directed your way and with every piece of new jewels added to your collections, pantalone expects you to give back some sort of affection. naturally. everything is a give-and-take, no? he provides you with all the luxuries and convenience a normal civilian can only dream of, and you provide him with what he asks for.

he’s not even asking for much - just don’t look at other men, focus on him and his needs, and pull him into a kiss every fifteen minutes. it's not hard of a task at all. surely you can fulfill it? otherwise, perhaps some disciplinary sessions are in order...

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea

[prentissluvr]

nsfw boyfriend headcanons — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!afab!reader ➖⟢ genre : nsfw, suggestive/smut MDNI ➖⟢ cw : under the cut! ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K ➖⟢ indented sections were sent to me by bestie daisy @mxltifxnd0m so all credit to her for those thoughts!! other sections are my response hehe. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. i will block you without a second thought if you do !!! and i do check, even likes, so don't think you can easily get away with it! feel free to check out my sfw works instead :)

cw : mentions of sub/dom dynamics, mentions of size kink, hand kink, manhandling, choking kink, finger sucking, marking, praise, oral (r!receiving), and fingering. reader mentioned to be smaller than sam during the size kink section, but not the rest! not edited.

a passionate lover ⟢ it doesn’t seem like he is because of his gentle and kind demeanor (also those puppy dog eyes could disarm you so quickly) ⟢ oh but we have evidence of him being passionate (and rough) (madison, ruby, and anyone else who slept with him were so lucky) (well until they died 💀) ⟢ so mans puts his ALL into every tryst the two of you share ⟢ is a dom through and through (flips between soft dom or hard dom, depends on his mood tbh)

⟢ passionate is correct!!! and i think that applies in many senses

⟢ like you said, he’s giving his all into everything

⟢ and sometimes this makes things rougher; he’s just got so much he wants to give you, wants to share with you, wants to make you feel

⟢ and it also translates into how soft he is with you sometimes

⟢ he’s so passionate about how much he loves you, and sometimes that means such gentleness when you’re tired or upset, or he just wants to make you feel precious

⟢ but yeah he totally uses the puppy dog eyes to get things from you, it makes you melt for him and then BOOM

⟢ he’s suddenly got this smirk that’s borderline cocky and his eyes have turned to pools of just lust for his pretty, pretty baby

⟢ i’m still working out my own hcs about sam as a dom

⟢ i think for the most part, he absolutely is that dom like you said, but personally, i see younger sam with a little bit of a switch in him

⟢ but let me explain bc like! it’s not like he’s a full switch at all, he totally leans dom 100%

⟢ it’s just that sometimes he’s so desperate for you and he wants you so bad and he’d do anything for you that he doesn’t care if he gets whiny or let’s you tell him what to do

⟢ that being said, older sam is a total dom through and through, and even younger sam totally leans that way

⟢ to him it’s less about sub/dom dynamics and more about the passion and making you feel so fucking good

⟢ he gets off on that shit for real, and he usually goes about it in a dominant way; strong hands to put your body in the best position, haughty smirks, getting bossy

⟢ he just gets whiny and desperate when you put your hands in his hair, but it also makes him go harder heheh

౨ৎ

size kink ⟢ loves the fact you are smaller/shorter than him ⟢ he can manhandle you and throw you around (can get you into any position without even trying) ⟢ his entire body covers yours no matter what ⟢ basically suffocates you but you don’t complain

⟢ not much to add to this because facts

⟢ he doesn’t really tease you about your height all the time like dean would (even if you’re like. barely shorter than him)

⟢ but oh my god it gets him going

⟢ he certainly enjoys manhandling, and loves it even more if you do too

⟢ like he doesn’t even have to be rough about it for it be hot to him (but if you’re cool with that let’s just say he is too)

⟢ doesn’t care how much smaller/shorter you are, you could be 6 foot and his size kink is still raging LOL

⟢ he just loves being bigger than you, in whatever sense that might be wink wink

౨ৎ

HANDS ⟢ need I say more? (I will) ⟢ again if you’re smaller than him, he loves the look of his hands on your body (especially around your neck) ⟢ choking kink? yes, but only if you’re into it (which I am LOL)

⟢ it’s not wise to get me started about his hands

⟢ i personally have a raging hand kink so. you know that’s cool

⟢ anyways! definitely loves the way his hands look on your, no matter if you’re smaller than him, he just wants to be touching you all the fucking time (but if you are smaller it totally contributes to the size kink)

⟢ i don’t think he’s into like hard choking all the time, but he does love to put a hand around your neck almost purely for the way it looks and the reaction it gets out of you

⟢ like i truly think this man is committed to anything and everything that gets you off to the extent that that same thing is also going to get him off

⟢ but uhm let’s get real about his hands!!

⟢ his fingering game is insane

⟢ and his fingers are just so thick and warm inside you grrrrr going feral

⟢ genuinely just stopped thinking because i can’t remember what else i was gonna put here!

⟢ uhmmmmmmmmmm mind goes blank

⟢ which he does love doing to you!!

⟢ oh! yeah once again, if you like it, he’s stuffing your mouth with his fingers too

⟢ he loves how dirty you look, his fingers in your mouth and drool starting to pool at the corner of your lips and the feeling of your tongue swirling around him and the fact that that alone makes you so fucking horny

⟢ he also loves the way his hand looks, cupping your face and making you look into his eyes as he whispers something dirty to you hdhdjsjh

⟢ oh and his his big hands pinning your wrists above your head !! loves the way you squirm against his hold

౨ৎ

possessive/marking ⟢ is sam the jealous type? not outwardly ⟢ but it translates into possessiveness ⟢ and believe that he’ll mark you up the first chance he gets. ⟢ sam is a feminist! (he took a woman and gender studies class at Stanford) but there is some switch in his brain that makes him go caveman and mark up you ⟢ he pretends to be sorry about it but he’s really satisfied and smug about it ⟢ also knowing it was HIM marking you up gets him going

⟢ mmmm yes yes yes

⟢ he can totally totally get possessive with you during sex esp if he’s feeling jealous about something

⟢ he’s very aware of your independence and autonomy obviously

⟢ but that doesn’t stop him from loving the fact you are his lover and you tell him that hehe

⟢ and he’s literally obsessed with you fr

⟢ and to the same extent that he loves you being his, he loves loves loves to be yours

⟢ so he loves marking both ways

⟢ he’s so proud of and cocky about the marks on you and on him

⟢ so yeah he totally wants your lips and tongue all over his neck

⟢ and then he’ll reciprocate it by ten fold

౨ৎ

certified muncher ⟢ i don’t make the rules but he loves going down on you ⟢ can make it torture for you (again depends on his mood) ⟢ either edges you for hours, or make you cum multiple times

⟢ certified muncher is the silliest and best way you could have put that HAHA

⟢ and you’re absolutely correct !!! i think there’s a general and accurate agreement within the fandom that sam loves eating pussy and he’s a fucking god at it‼️‼️‼️

⟢ not gonna go into too much detail but yeah

⟢ idk genuinely i think it’s one of his favorite things to do in the whole wide world

⟢ ask sam about his favorite hobbies and he’s like well i really like reading and eating pussy !! ☺️☺️

⟢ it goes along with his whole thing that he’s just obsessed with pleasing you

⟢ he’s so pussy drunk so fast it’s crazy

⟢ wants to hear every little nose when he has his face buried in between your legs like please please please don’t hold back

⟢ again he wants your hands tangled in your hair SO BAD especially when he eats you out

⟢ and yeah huge agree, he could go on forever which means mind blowing edging or mind blowing overstimulation lol

⟢ will eat you out until his jaw is too sore to keep going!!

⟢ his fingers plus tongue combo is deadly!

⟢ he knows your body and your pleasure so well and he loves you so much wow he’s so so obsessed with you fr

౨ৎ

a few of my other headcanons!

⟢ praise !!!!

⟢ sam is big on praise, once again both giving and receiving. he doesn't hesitate to tell you how good you're doing for him

⟢ how sweet and pretty you look for him, how good you're taking him

⟢ if you like it, plenty of “good girl/boy/whatever variation you like,” he uses any of those that he can get his hands on 

⟢ “that’s my baby, there you go. takin’ me so good, honey.”

⟢ all he wants in return is for you to tell him how good he’s making you feel

⟢ will more than happily let you call him “pretty boy” or “my pretty baby” all day and night long (moreso younger sam, and definitely call him handsome too)

⟢ oh and he’s got a dirty dirty mouth!!

⟢ someone needs to wash it out with soap, for real

⟢ he’s not always loud, but he can be, and he certainly would love for you to be as well

⟢ literally any indication that he’s making you feel good, he devours that like a man starved

⟢ loves loves loves to kiss you while doing the deed, wants to kiss you forever and ever

⟢ definitely loves to makeout a lot before sex because of that

⟢ and then just continue making out as much as possible

⟢ if he’s feeling soft and sentimental he’ll hold your hand while doing totally not soft things to you

⟢ there’s definitely more but i'll stop for now lolol

[justporo]

Guilty as charged

A/N: So I saw this post about pre-vampirism law school Astarion by @lavendarr00 today and immediately my brain conjured up this idea of having a sort of friends with benefits arrangement with law student Astarion (to both of your benefit ofc) and I couldn't stop dreaming... So have this quick drabble before I move onto other writing...

~~~

You were repeating the same question for the third time to Astarion.

He answered for the third time - and still got it wrong.

The elf rolled his eyes. “This is useless, I need a break,” he pouted and let his head fall back, leaning back onto his hands, careful not to knock over the stacks of books, rolls of parchment and scattered notes.

You just enjoyed the sight: how his chest heaved when he took another deep and dramatic breath in, how the muscles in his arms moved, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A sight to behold. But unfortunately looks were no characteristic that helped one to pass law school.

The two of you were sitting on the polished wooden floors of Astarion’s small but luxurious dorm room, studying for the bar exam - or some of you were.

This was the final challenge you had to pass, then you would finally be done with school.

“If we’re taking another break, we will never get through all of this,” you muttered and motioned towards all of the material surrounding you.

Astarion replied with a pained noise, head coming around again to watch you.

“Have mercy on me, my love,” he begged and threw one arm dramatically over his face.

“Astarion, tell me how you will pass the bar exam if you’re not at least trying to study,” you scolded him and watched as he gave you his best puppy eyes - the gold in them glinting.

“But I am trying,” he moaned and then sat back up again. His hands shot forward to grab your wrists still holding the book you had been reciting questions from.

“But we can’t all be as smart and scholarly as you, darling,” he murmured and dragged you towards you. “Or as beautiful. Or… distracting.”

As much as you tried to make a face at him for wanting to distract you, you failed. You lightly giggled as the beautiful elf pulled you onto his lap.

Sometimes you wondered if he had solely sought your friendship so you could help pull him through law school. Not that you minded. But then he really wouldn’t have needed to fall into bed with you - frequently. You would have helped him only because you liked him and enjoyed spending time with him. Not that you minded the time spent in his embrace at all as well.

Somewhere between you first arriving at Baldur’s Gate’s esteemed law institute where you had met Astarion - who always seemed to have a sharp quip or cheesy line on the tip of his tongue - and now, you somewhen had formed the habit of repeatedly falling into the elf’s arms and tangling in the sheets with him.

Neither of you had been seeking a strict commitment so this semi-exclusive companionship you indulged in was as much of a bond you both could work with.

How things would develop once you both left law school neither of you had addressed yet.

Maybe tomorrow you would bring it up. Maybe when you would have both passed the exam, celebrated with drinks and your friends and you would have undoubtedly found your way into his bed again.

But now, there were other things to focus on.

“How exactly is this going to help you study, Astarion?” you asked as his hands were wandering up your thighs and his gaze had fallen to where your chest peeked through the laces of your top. You couldn’t help but arch your back a little - make the sight a little more alluring to him.

He noticed and threw you a haughty glance and smirk, one eyebrow cocked teasingly.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m being quite honest. But I want to test out a theory of mine,” he murmured as long, elegant fingers wandered up your body, immediately making it hard for you to focus on anything else.

“And what’s that theory?” you almost moaned in response and shifted your hips to get even closer to him. The movement bringing the delectable advantage of creating delicious friction for both of you.

“That you will stop bugging me about this damned exam once I have you naked beneath me,” he explained in a low, breathy voice as his fingers were already starting to unlace your shirt.

“Anything to get my clothes off I see,” you replied with a last rest of your wit before Astarion pressed his hot lips to yours and truly made you forget about really anything else. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you leaned into the kiss, drinking it all up desperately. Until the elf broke the kiss again, the gold specks in his blue eyes glinting mischievously.

“Guilty as charged, darling,” he murmured with the smirk you had gotten so used to and adored so much.

Then Astarion pushed you onto your back, knocking over books and scrolls. He immediately followed, lowering his body onto you, tangling your fingers with his before he pressed down your hands on each side of your head and showed you just how much of a convincing case he could make if he wanted to.

[lonleydomcatalog]

NSFW IMAGINE

Warnings: Msub, Dacryphilia, Afab reader, Pet Names: Love, Pretty Boy, Mommy kink Degradation, Praise, Like one Dick Slap, Mind break, Masochism, BDSM, Mean Fdom

Synopsis: Leaving your subby bf at home tied up with a prostate vibrator shoved up his ass while you go to run errands.

♡︎~NSFW UNDER THE CUT~♡︎ ︎

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Subby Boys!~ Who pull you back down into bed with them voice heavy with sleepy questions as you try to get up and get ready for the day

Where are you going love~

Subby Boys!~Who try and convince you that you don’t actually have to leave, by kissing you and whispering filth into your ears -speaking a bit too haughty for your liking- when you fall back down into bed with them

“You know you don’t really have to leave Mommy~ you could always just stay here and let me serve you instead, doesn’t that sound sooo much more fun than errands~”

Subby Boys!~Who get upset with you when you tell them no, who immediately turn bratty when they don’t get their way, who start bitching about how you’re no fun and how they bet anyone else would be leaping with joy if a man fell at their feet and offered to serve them

“You’re such a cock block why can’t you skip just this once you can’t you do whatever is soooo- important that you have to leave me, later. Anyone else would be exploding with joy at the thought of using a pretty toy like me~

Subby Boys!~ Who finally realize that you’re not impressed by their teasing and let you get up a pout staining their lips while they follow close behind you -as you continue to ignore their antics- still not ready to accept the fact that you can’t just lay in bed with him all day

Common babe it’s just one day let me be your good boy yeah? I’ll do whatever you want Mommy~

Subby Boys!~ Who try to follow you into the bathroom when you finish gathering everything you need for your shower. Who whine and complain when you push them back out the door only for them to sit there obediently waiting for you to get out anyways.

“Why can’t I come in with you?! I promise I won’t try anything too scandalous~ FINE BE THAT WAY THEN ILL JUST WAIT FOR YOU TO GET OUT.”

Subby Boys!~ Who are just now realizing that they’re losing this battle while sitting outside of the bathroom listening to the pattering rhythms of the shower and are now willing to try anything to get you to stay

Subby Boys!~Who watch a little closer than they should when you exit the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel who whisper

“f-fuck…”

under their breath feeling a hard-on growing in their skin tight shorts as they watch you prance about in your makeshift dress

Subby Boys!~Who can’t resist you anymore, who walk up behind your curved figure pressing his needy cock into the swell of your ass to start grinding against you while he whimpers into your ear

“Mommy p-please don’t f-uck leave me I-I need you s-so bad”

Subby Boys!~Who are willing to take a punishment right now if it means you would pay him even the tiniest bit of your attention who would take anything you do to them with a shit eating grin if it meant that you would stay home with him and touch him

Subby Boys!~ Who know they deserve it and quite frankly deserved it much earlier in their teasing but still aren’t expecting it when you finally snap and give them what they’ve earned.

“You’re so needy that you had to act like a horny puppy and hump my ass. Honestly are you so much of a slut for me that you can’t even behave yourself bitch.”

Subby Boys!~Who let out a deep moan when you turn around and squeeze their cock to stop them from getting off who’s cock still twitches even when held so tightly in your grasp because of the names you call him who reply to you through heavy breaths

“Y-yes ma’am I-I’m your horny fucking bitch I-I love being a slut just for you p-please mommy I need you s-so bad right now”

Subby Boys!~Who wait for you to call them names just so that they can get some sick pleasure from it who want you to order them around who would really do Anything you asked

“You wanted to be my dumb fuck attention whore so bad right? Then how about you back this slutty cock up and strip for me then”

Subby Boys!~Who whimper when you let go of their throbbing cock so that they can strip for you who moan as they do so because they think that they’re finally going to get exactly what they wanted

“So obedient, mommy knew that you could be a good little cock~”

Subby Boys!~Whos face flushes res as he mewls when you slap the tip of his cock watching it bounce back into place before turning back to the closet but this time its not for clothes

Subby Boys!~Who look at you with pleading eyes when you turn back around and he sees what you have in your hands (rope, a prostate vibe and a small bottle of lube) who question

“Mommy are you going use those to punish me”

Subby Boys!~Who groan enjoying the stinging pain of you pulling him down to your eye level by his hair to put him in his place and mockingly give him your next set of instructions

“Shut the fuck up bitch a “pretty little toy” like you shouldn’t be talking. Now go get on the bed and spread that pretty ass for me pet.

Subby Boys!~Who love how harsh you’re being with him who loves how you spit his own words back at him who crawls on the bed arching his back while still on his knees putting himself on an embarrassing display for you

Look at you I knew that even a slut as stupid as you could do it good job~

Subby Boys!~Who thank you for praising him even though your tone is dripping with condescension who moan as you slap his ass making sure to teasingly rub your fingers around his hole

Th-thank you Mommy~

Subby Boys!~Who continue obediently spreading their ass for you while you take your time spreading the lube on your fingers who have to bite the sheets to quiet their moans while you prep their hole for the prostate vibrator

Subby Boys!~Who’s ass is so slutty that when you press the vibe into his hole it goes in with no resistance

Subby Boys!~Who sit still as you start tying the rope into intricate knots that bind his arms behind his back and keep his legs bent so that he can’t clamp them together to get any friction for his poor leaking cock

Subby Boys!~Who let’s out the lewdest noise you’ve ever heard when you finally turn the vibe on

Subby Boys!~Who’s already forgotten that this is a punishment and before long is begging you to cum which you happily obliged

“M-mommy ‘m c-Clos-e can I-i please c-cum”

“Of course~”

Subby Boys!~Who cum hard and loudly when you approve his request who notice that the stimulation isn’t stopping as he starts building up to a new high who don’t notice that you are fully dressed and ready to leave him there until it’s too late and he hears the bedroom door shutting behind you

“M-MOMMY PLEASE DON’T L-EAVE ME HE-HERE LIKE TH-THIS”

Subby Boys!~Who still cry for you even after he hears the front door close as well knowing that you can’t hear him

Subby Boys!~Who are still in the same position you left them in when you come back who’ve cum more times than they can count who’s milked dry and broken by the time you get back

Subby Boys!~Who hear the bedroom door open and immediately start moaning for you to help them

“p-pl-ease mom-my mommy m-mommy mommy”

Subby Boys!~Who you shush looking into his pretty crying eyes after you finally turn off the vibrator that has been abusing his prostate for the last three hours, who you comfort for being so good for you

“Shhh it’s okay pretty boy mommy’s here, you did such a great job for me love let mommy get you cleaned up okay?”

Subby Boys!~Who let you take care of them after you’ve removed the rope from his bruised skin and pull the vibe out of his abused hole

Subby Boys!~Who’s tear stained eyes still gaze into yours -while you clean him up- like you hold the world in your hands, even after you subjected him to such torture

•••••••••••••••••••••••••��••••••

An-

Literally mind empty I just wanna ruin someone ☠️

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

All content was written by lonleydomcatalog~

[dear-mrs-otome]

The imagery in this scene is so perfect.

[jiminiecrickets]

LOVE’S LITTLE DAGGER. KTH / M!READER

summary. taehyung hates your guts, so you rearrange his. maybe he likes it more than he should.

wc. 3.6k

tags. smut | (eventually) sub bottom!tae, dom top!reader, playboy!tae, unprotected sex, brat taming (?), overstimulation (implied), teasing, handjobs, choking, shotgunning (position, i think?), they’re both very verbal and annoying, use of “puppy” and a couple mentions of “whore” (tae receiving) so maybe a bit of degradation

[ part two ]  [ requested + 2 ]

a boy with fire engine-red hair slams into your chest with both hands. your books and notes scatter to the floor, pens skidding across the empty hallway, and you barely avoid knocking your head against the wall.

"oops," he says innocently, those infamous smoky dark eyes fluttering down at you. "you should watch your step."

frustration bubbles like lava beneath your skin. just as he steps away, your hand darts out and hooks in the ripped knee of his blue jeans.

the snapping tear of cloth brings a satisfied smile to your face. he whips around, alarm flashing across his features, and he yanks his leg away to check his pants.

"juhyun's waiting for you in our hall," you inform him smugly, shuffling your papers into a messy stack and stuffing them into your messenger bag. you chase your pens, too used to his jabs to give him much more of a reaction. you glance up. "and her brother. she says you did some unspeakable things to the both of them, and they'd like a word with you. judging by the look on their faces," you slip the last handful of pens into your bag and rise to your feet, "i'd say you're in for a treat."

his brow furrows. he still smooths his jeans consciously, fiddling with the white threads. "who?"

"you fucked her," you say, "while dating her brother. don't you remember? it was last month."

he rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his silk bomber jacket. "why would i? it wasn't even serious. i told him that."

"i'm just the messenger, taehyung. before you go..." you lean in, your lips brushing his earlobe. a spiked shiver runs down his spine. "i got a hundred-and-two on that test."

with that, you turn on your heel, carrying on down the hallway and rounding a corner. your shoes click on the linoleum sharply, and taehyung glowers at where your figure once was.

that's the third time he's smacked into you this week. why haven't you blown up at him yet?

just once, he'd love to see something on your face aside from that vile, arrogant smile and composed gaze. he's never seen you angry. nobody else has, either. 

when others see you, they see gentleness. no one but him knows the look in your eye when they meet his, glittering with edged, haughty superiority. there are a thousand whispers about who you are and who you might've been – some say that a violent past turned you into an all-around pacifist.

it confuses him. why would someone so apparently gentlemanly and non-confrontational arouse such wild rumours? what is it about civility that impresses less than savagery? why are his pants so tight?

he scowls and shifts his belt, messing with the pant leg you'd seized earlier. it still doesn't sit right, twisted halfway around his calf, but he's running out of time for his next class and he doesn't have a lot of late strikes left.

he hurries away, pretty girls and their pretty brothers the farthest thing from his agitated mind.

two hours later, taehyung slaps a stapled paper down in front of you. everyone in a six-metre radius in the cafeteria falls silent, wide eyes trained on the absolute fury rippling from taehyung's body. they whisper behind their palms.

"you fucking cheat," he hisses without any attempt at discretion. "a hundred-and-two. a hundred, and two? what'd you do, fuck the t.a.?"

neatly, you place aside your chopsticks, sliding the plate of sushi out of the way for the paper you dig out of your bag, formatted exactly the same as taehyung's all the way down to the size of hanging indents and margin spacing.

you flip to the last page and tap your finger against a brief paragraph before the conclusion. "one extra mark for addressing category nine-b. it was one sentence on an otherwise packed page full of more important parts, so i'm not surprised you skimmed over it."

taehyung flips over to the rubric stapled to the back of his assignment. he scans down to nine, and his frown deepens with every line.

a single-line paragraph indented as if it was part of the previous one. extra marks: /1.

he wants so badly to slap the smirk off your face that it takes every effort to dilate his blood vessels. an incorrectly-formatted guide has just cost him everything.

"hey, a hundred per cent is still amazing," you comfort him sympathetically. your eyes glimmer pridefully as you lean back. "you know, i think we're now about even."

he snatches up the papers, and after a moment's pause, your yet-to-be-touched coffee. "i don't want to be even," he mutters, and he stalks away.

—

while your spaghetti simmers in a pot in the kitchen, taehyung saunters by. he drops half a shaker of salt into it. "oh. my hand slipped."

your jaw clenches. "taehyung, this is very petty. even for you."

he grunts, watching as you pour out the steaming water and rinse off as much salt as you can. most of it dissolved as soon as it hit the bubbling water, and you make a note to add more tomato into the base. maybe it'll help hide the salt. 

"i wouldn't be if someone would stop inviting his friends over to play mario kart when i'm trying to get my rocks off."

"what?" you ask with a roll of your eyes, stirring a pot of sauce. "you want me to listen to your weird noises for two hours straight?" you mimic his growly moan, low in the throat and reverberating through the chest, and taehyung's back teeth grind and he shifts on the sofa. he's never heard anything like it come out of you before.

"then stop opening my door!" he argues.

"it must get stuffy in there."

jumping to his feet, taehyung crosses into the kitchen in two steps and jabs your chest with a finger, anger flushing his neck to his ears. "you are the reason i'm like this. i haven't been able to do anything for three fucking weeks because of your stupid blue shells – i’m constantly aware that you could walk in at any second! the next time you bring someone pretty over, you're gonna be seeing me so much you'll practically be fucking me instead."

you turn away from the pot and turn off the stove. taehyung glances down uncertainly at it – why'd you do that?

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you ask impatiently, an octave deeper than usual. you step forward; he doesn't give. he can feel the minty heat of your breath against his cheeks.

"don't be ridiculous," he scoffs. "you? you wouldn't know what to do with a cock if it was in front of your face."

your gaze sweeps over his body – casual, clean. yet, it feels as if you've stripped him raw.

"where i'm interested, i don't need to know what to do with your cock," you murmur. "and after i'm done with you... you'll be too gone to care."

warmth rides up his spine. it takes a moment for him to register that it's your hand creeping beneath his shirt and bumping over the ridges of his spine.

"what's wrong, taehyung?" the way his name rolls off your tongue sounds too sweet to be the poison he knows it to be. "never taken a cock before?"

"of course i have," he snaps without realising what exactly has been said. his throat bobs and he averts his eyes, gnawing on his lower lip furiously. "i mean... well..."

your grin widens. "well?"

"just... me. my hands."

"your hands?" you repeat with an arched brow and a soft chuckle that has taehyung hot under the collar. "cute. can't find anyone willing to tame you, hm?"

taehyung bristles. "i don't need taming," he growls, leaning in those few centimetres more until your noses touch. "but i bet you'd like to try."

he slams his mouth onto yours, twisting his fingers in your hair. your hands close around his slim waist, pushing him back against the wall, and he gasps as you tug his hair back to give you better access to his swan-like throat, warm and golden.

a muffled groan trickles past his tight lips as you shove your knee between his thighs. your hands roll his hips for him – as if he doesn't know what to do.

his grip tightens in your hair. bastard.

you nip at his neck, littering hot, stinging hickeys along the smooth line of his throat. his dick throbs embarrassingly in his jeans and he reaches for it.

you slap his hand away, tilting your leg to grind your cock into his. he gasps and moans as his knuckles hit the wall and you take the opportunity to press him harder into the wall, restricting how much he can move.

for someone so flammable, he's awfully good at taking everything you throw at him.

"you – hah – fuck everyone so roughly?" he sighs.

"only the brats." you tug at his belt with deft fingers. "mm. you're already so hard, puppy."

he glares as best he can with lust-blown pupils. "i'll kill you."

"really, puppy? how, if you can't even control yourself like this?" your palm glides over his hot cock. "tell me, baby."

"i'll – i'll get the hundred-and-two next time. it'll be my name next to the number one, and you'll be the one pinned to a stupid wall – fuck!"

you let loose a long, slow whistle, and taehyung's face burns. you grin, pressing a kiss to his lips. "for someone who's in bed with another every other night, you're surprisingly desperate. you're close, yeah?"

"shut your mouth," he grits out between clenched teeth, his hips rutting into your twisting hand. "mm – s'your fault. you and—"

"me and my blue shells, i know," you tease, ignoring your own problem for taehyung's adorably furrowed brows. your hand jerks sharply and you'll never forget his stuttered moan and the way he half-crumples, knees buckling as his fingers dig into the wall behind him. "come up with something new, and i'll let you come."

his head whips around so fast he's at risk of snapping his neck. "what?"

"you heard me, puppy." you swipe your thumb over his leaking slit and he groans into his shoulder. your hand slows to a turtle's crawl and you glance down with a hum, encircling him with a thumb and forefinger. "it’s very pretty. but i'm bigger."

he bucks his hips. "fuck you."

"don't get me wrong, baby. you've got nothing to be ashamed of. i'm just getting you ready – mentally."

he could kill you right there. but, as you tilt his head to meet your lips, he can't help but soften just that little bit more, already half a mess with his jeans struggling around his hips.

"i hate you," he groans, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as you squeeze his cock, and his face flushes with heat as it twitches in your palm and you glance up at him with a smug grin. "no, i – i'm serious. you're a competitive jerk who's crazy-obsessed with me and beating me at everything. you're the poster boy for desperation for validation. i bet if i told you that you did well on your last assignment, you'd cream your pants like a teenager."

you chuckle and press your lips to his ear, loosing a soft, teasing moan just for him. "careful, taehyung. don't make me angry. you're the one taking it."

the way your words roll over him, concentrating in his cock, pisses him off. he twists his wrists out of your grip and grabs your jaw, thumbs at the base of your ears, and yanks your mouth onto his as he steps forward. you push his jeans down and he chuckles breathlessly as you urge him to jump – he does, and you catch him with impressive ease. he knows where his centre of balance is, and he's considerate enough to shift it close to yours.

you can't believe you're calling kim taehyung considerate. his hobbies include stealing your food and locking you out of the dorm when you leave to discard the rubbish.

"my room," he mumbles against your mouth, his kisses hot and nerve-stinging. "it's closer."

"read my mind." you toss him onto his bed, resting one knee against the mattress as you tug your belt off. taehyung pulls his hoodie over his head into an indeterminate corner and crawls closer, sliding his palms up against the soft denim of your jeans, gazing up at you with dark, hooded eyes and a proud curl at the corner of his lips. he nips the warm skin above your waistband when he draws the zipper down with his teeth.

"you're stupid," he whispers, "and handsome. i hate you."

"a hundred and two," you remind him, and reach for the back of your collar. you tug it over your head and taehyung's appreciative gaze doesn't go unnoticed. "i hate you, too. you're a bully and immature. you drink all the milk and never buy more."

he turns over onto his stomach and spreads his knees, tossing his hair with a kiss-plumped smirk. "give me a reason to."

your palm glides down his spine, resting over the high curve of his ass. he pushes back into your hand and gasps as you press your thumb into him, his cock pulsing.

"idiot! who s-starts with the..." his eyes flutter shut as a moan bubbles its way from his belly. "oh..."

you hum. "someone's been having their fun, hm? were you playing with yourself right before you threw half a kilo of salt into my poor dinner? that explains why you're so tetchy – and sensitive."

"shut up!" he grumbles, his cheeks the darkest shade of pink you've ever seen. "just – just fuck me, already. i've done half your job for you."

"you sure?" you reach below him, fingers grazing his pulsing cock. it's embarrassingly eager, and he arches his back prettily in an attempt to taunt your attention elsewhere.

"i can take it," he says with a stupid heft of confidence. he grins, cocky. "guys always add a couple of inches."

you scoff and grab his thighs, pressing them together. he might think he doesn't need it, but he needs to relax as much as possible. he hums and presses his cheek into a pillow with a teasing sway of his hips, rolling back against your bulge as you fiddle with his bottle of lube.

he hears the shuffle of cloth and the clink of a metal buckle, and he grows impatient as the lid clicks shut. "shit, take any longer and i'll go—ah, god!"

you smooth your palms over his heaving ribs, hushing him as you rock your hips deeper into his. 

"f-fuck," he moans, arching back into you. "oh, shit, baby, you feel so big in me... fuck me, damn it—mmh..."

you start off slow, gently allowing him to get used to you. after his first verbal outburst, he dissolves into pleased moans, finally relieved of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. he relaxes, expression soft and open as his brow furrows.

he's pretty when he's not biting at your fingers. you smirk.

you draw back until just the tip, then snap your hips forward.

he hisses, legs kicking at your thighs as he shudders, pleasure running up his spine. you stroke a line down his spine and squeeze his supple ass.

setting a slow, easy pace, you grind your hips into his ass, hushing him as he judders and whines into his pillow. his teeth clamp down on the soft cotton and you groan softly as he clenches around you, the tight ring of muscle scraping against your shaft.

"still think you can take it?" you murmur with a smug grin, smoothing a hand over the dip of his waist. "you're shaking like a leaf, taehyung."

"sh-shut up." he grits his teeth and throws his head back with a blissful moan as you give his ass a playful smack. "feels good, s'all..."

"good," you reply, cocky amusement leeching into your voice. it's so familiar that something inside taehyung instinctively tenses with anger. "maybe a good lay is all you need to loosen up. metaphorically, of course."

"fuck you!" he barks.

"you'd like that, wouldn't you?" with a harsh thrust, you stroke his hips, gently pulling him backwards onto your cock. he looks so pretty, stretched wide around you – it's a boost to the ego you don't really need. "always have to come out on top, always have to be the one giving orders... can't take a fucking break around you. you're really quite infuriating."

"a-at least i'm not a fucking pushover!"

he lets out a sound between a moan and a mewl as you shove him down, speeding up until your hips slap against his ass loudly. if someone were to walk by, they'd have no questions about what you're doing.

you twist your fingers in his dyed locks near the base of his neck and tug sharply, silencing his gasped, raspy moans as he buries his face in the pillow, his eyes rolling back briefly as his whole body bounces harshly.

the cheap dorm bed creaks. roommates were assigned by gender, which was a lousy and backwards attempt to stop students from fucking. it wasn't as if they tried very hard, either – a quartet of girls could reside three steps away from a quartet of boys because segregating entire buildings on gender was apparently too much and not good for pr.

still, you can't help but grin, tipping your head back with a soft groan. breaking the rules has never felt so good.

"you like getting pushed over, puppy. moaning like a whore for my cock, spreading your legs so eagerly – you've hit a new low. you'd let just about anyone fuck you, wouldn't you, puppy? even people you can't fucking stand?" you purr into his ear, your chest rolling against his freckled back. you connect the cute dots with your tongue and he shudders with a whimper, fists twisting in his bedsheets. you pump his cock rapidly in tine with your thrusts and he leaks endlessly, slicking up the warm tunnel of your fist as he bucks furiously into it. "what, not gonna say anything now? c'mon, puppy. you're not agreeing that you're a whore, are you? goad me into fucking you harder – i dare you."

all he does is whine tearfully, hips jerking against yours as your cock slams into his swollen prostate and glides past, filling him up like nothing ever has before.

"i'm gonna c-come," he cries, scrambling to cover his mouth when a particularly well-aimed thrust unravels every thought in his head. he struggles to build them back up, rocking harshly against the mattress as your cock pulses hotly inside of him, twitching at the sight and burning heat of him. "gonna come, gonna come, fuck fuck fuck, ye-e-es—!"

with a final low moan, he spurts in your fist, his thighs trembling and twitching as you fuck him through his high. his chest heaves and he lets himself relax into the pillow he hugs under him, lashes fluttering as you gradually slow, your warm, slick fist milking him of everything he's worth.

“i win,” you coo.

dazedly, he pants softly against his pillow, lashes fluttering as you scrape your nails against his scalp. you pull it back into a messy ponytail at the back of his head, as red as his cheeks. his heart thumps against his chest, deep and echoing to his core.

"f-fuck," he whispers, mewling in surprise as your thrusts speed up again. he bucks against your cock and cries, "fuck—!"

somewhere between his moans, slowly sliding up in pitch, you can gather a single question: why?

you flip him over, thrusting in deep as you settle yourself between his golden thighs and wrap a hand around his untouched throat. 

so smooth, so agonisingly perfect. you'll have to amend that.

his dark, glossy eyes can't stay on you for long, rolling back as he spreads his shaky legs wider and half-sobs. he claws uselessly at your hand and wrist.

you slide it further up, gripping just behind his jaw to stop him from thrashing and throwing his head back. you force him to look you in the eye with those pretty, unfocused, blown-out eyes, nearly black with just the slightest hint of honey-gold around the rim.

"what, you thought we were done?" you glide your hand down his tense stomach and over his cock, smearing his cum and arousal over his hot skin. he shivers, sweat-slick, and flushes in embarrassment, oddly docile. "i still haven't finished, puppy. you'll take it like a good boy, won't you, taehyung?"

he releases a soft, choked whine, his lower lip trembling almost imperceptibly. he nods, twitching as your cock buries itself deep in his guts, and his hands fall limply beside his head, fisting the abused pillow.

"atta boy." you pull his thighs around your hips and he locks his ankles over your back, holding you close. you want to watch him as your tip punches his prostate, over and over, chasing your own ruthless high.

you want to fuck that lazy, cocky attitude out of him. you want to see him break.

and you will, you muse as you watch him writhe and whimper, his soft, pretty cock bouncing on his tummy. but not yet. he's still glaring up at you with shiny eyes and hot pink cheeks, embarrassed at the predicament of his own making.

you wrap your warm, messy fist around his cock and grin hungrily as it throbs in interest. he jerks, eyes widening almost fearfully as he tugs your cock in deeper by his legs around your waist.

you know where to start.

[oceanofsinners]

“They love me, they love me not.”

Yan!Pervy cupid x gn innocent succubi/incubi reader ♥︎

[mdni, or do, i don't care enough to block y'all tbh. NSFW, first time in a while writing it so apologies ack. tw/cw: mentions of violence, blood, religious stuff kinda. lmk if i have to add smth else too! also?? sorry for disappearing i got stuck in the hospital, ouchies!! also holy fuck this is 2.k words ive never wrote that much...]

Nova wasn't...normal. Well, to be fair, it wasn't their fault he was created this way. It was Father’s fault.

 

Being born a Cupid, but being unable to feel most emotions, or even love. How ridiculous. Pathetic, even. Compared to their brothers and sisters, he was useless.

 

They grew up alone and isolated, no one wanted a Cherub whose expression was always bored. No one wanted a Cherub who never wanted to play with the others or found joy in small things. 

 

He grew up in one of the few orphanages in Paradise, some human souls for foster parents who weren't able to have kids themselves, happy to have any.

 

Angels were meant to be cheerful and optimistic, they were neither. Many thought he'd grow up to be a Guardian Angel or an Archangel. 

 

Never a Cupid. Especially a Love Cupid. Maybe a Heartbreak Cupid, even Erotic Love Cupid, but Love? They didn't even truly understand what the word meant. Or so everyone thought. 

 

Angels were meant to be non-judgemental. Meant to be “kind” and believe in everyone. Angel’s are not. Angels are just as judgemental, perhaps even more than humans. 

 

The other Cupids always watched him in disdain when they were training, he always dragged their class down, being worse at it than most of the others.

 

But then, in high school, something changed. See, Angels and Demons typically don't like each other. 

 

Angels hate Demons for falling, and Demons hate the lies Angels say. But in the end, they are one and the same. 

 

Only one’s halo is broken, the other’s is perfectly fine. No, not halo, horns. If there was one thing special about Nova, it was their “halo“, or horns. 

 

They were a beautiful baby pink color that matched the pearly white hair that reached his shoulders, with pretty gold and bright pink streaks, that made their purple eyes pop. 

 

Even though Nova couldn't feel anything, he was beautiful. Freckles were made in the forms of constellations scattered over brown skin, and white eyelashes that looked like snowflakes. 

 

They were beautiful. Ethereal. An Angel, through and through. He never imagined they'd fall willingly, even hating the thought. 

 

But, maybe for one person, he would. That person is YOU. 

 

The Demons and Angels made an agreement, there was an academy built, for both Angels and Demons of all ranks and backgrounds, a sort of truce.

 

Nova was one of the angels chosen, amongst many others. They didn't care about it, just wanting it to be done already. To get the embarrassment over. 

 

Days turned into weeks of staying in the shadows, going to boring classes, eating lunch in empty classrooms, studying all night, and repeat. 

 

It was boring, but it's not like Nova had anything he could do about it. Another day of stupid school, of stupid wars between haughty Angels and Demons who liked fighting. 

 

Except this time, Nova got caught in the crossfire. Cuts covered their skin, golden blood leaking down and ruining his beautiful clothes.

 

One of the Demons had them pushed up against a wall, claws to his throat, and they stood there blank gaze. Nova raised a brow as the Demon got pushed, and went to walk away. 

 

Then YOU came. You seemed confused at the fight, trying to make peace despite it being fruitless. You paused at the sight of him, before gasping and quickly running over. 

 

“Ah, you're bleeding! Gosh, I told these dummies to stop fighting, they just don't listen!” You frowned, trying to appear upset but you just looked like a kicked puppy with a pout. 

 

You pulled them off to the side, reaching inside a black messenger back absolutely covered in cutesy stickers and pins from different bands. 

 

Nova took the time to look at you, really look at you. It was strange. Why was his heart beating so fast? Wings fluffing up? You were beautiful. One of the prettiest Demons they’d ever seen. 

 

That's what clued him into what you were, an Incubus or Succubus. Really, there was no difference between the two except for their behavior. Incubus tended to be more assertive, and Succubus more passive. 

 

Before Nova could think about anything else, you pulled a first aid kit out, opened it up, and pulled a pack of bandaids out. 

 

You started disinfecting their wounds, before putting those cute, colored bandaids on each wound.

 

Nova looks silly like this, mostly black, Gothic ensemble, even with his pastel eyes and horns, they still looked less like an Angel and more like a Demon. 

 

And there you were, broken halo turned into a pair of horns, dressed in cutesy clothes, putting brightly colored bandaids on the mean-looking Cupid. 

 

With every fleeting touch, Nova felt embers light under his skin, his cheeks warming even further. ‘...What...What is this feeling? I don't...’

 

Before Nova even realized it, they were leaning even further into your cold, almost dead touch. You paused, before giggling and roping your arms around his shoulders. 

 

“Wow! You're super friendly, I like you, your hair too, it's super duper long! What's your name?” You asked, playing with his long hair, curling it around your fingers.

 

“Casanova. But people call me Nova, usually. What's yours?” Nova looked up at you, a lovesick hazy look in his purple eyes, heart pupils. How amusing. A Cupid falling for an Incubi/Succubi. What are the odds? 

 

“Oh! Right! It's—” Before you can finish, a teacher begins herding everyone to their classes. Nova’s pissed —‘How...Why do I feel so angry?’— but goes along with it, delighted to see you wave with a sheepish grin, fangs showing. 

 

Nova doesn't know your name. But he doesn't need to. You're his angel in their mind, the one and only made for him. 

 

Very quickly you become a prominent part of his life, their parents even allowing you to stay at their house while the program goes on, happy to see their child so happy for once. 

 

With so many emotions suddenly hitting him all at once, it's no shock they fall harder than he should, becoming obsessed fast and hard. 

Nova begins realizing things they'd never realized before. The curves of your body. Those soft eyes he wants to see sobbing from pleasure. Those lips open, gasping their name—

 

But it ends far too soon. The program is forced to close, and you're gone just as fast as you came. Nova hates how empty he feels when you're gone, wondering how he ever lived without you.

 

He feels cold inside, a part of him disappearing with you. Something they can NEVER get back. He tries to be normal, smiling when he should, crying when he should, just be normal. 

 

It's easy for a while. To pretend. No, BE normal. Far too soon, or maybe far too late, he graduates high school. Then college. 

 

Years fly by, “friends” come and go, lovers he didn't give a shit about disappear after they get bored, and more and more blood then just his is on their hands. 

 

But you weren't always gone. You'd sneak out of hell and sneak onto paradise sometimes, and hang out with them. But it wasn't enough. He wanted all of your time and attention on him. Just once, they want someone to be there as a constant. 

 

Eventually he lands a job at Soulmates Corp. A Cupid work place, and he starts working. It's actually pretty simple and interesting. Sure, they don't use bow and arrows — usually. But being able to look through humans lives, to choose who they fall for. It's interesting. 

 

And then, one night, you innocently invite him to a club in hell. They instantly agree, after all, it's YOU. His angel, their savior, his LIFE LINE. Their EVERYTHING. 

 

Funnily enough, over the years the two swapped clothing styles. Nova wore more cutesy, sweet, pastel color clothes, and you wore darker, more “sexy” clothes. 

 

Nova arrived at the club, absentmindedly toying with the pockets of his pastel blue cardigan. Tonight would be the last night of your freedom - independance, after all! 

 

Nova walks in, you on his side, some of your friends accompanying the two of you. He could care less about these bastards, and soon makes sure to seperate you from your “friends”.

 

He watches you with loving eyes the entire night, making sure you get drunk so bad you can't stand. It's easy, you're too trusting. Too innocent for this world. 

 

He'll save you, just like you saved them! Eventually they take you to their place. At first it's tame. Friendly. 

 

“N—Novaaahhhh...C’mere, I hic! wanna see yer pretty faceeee...” Your voice is whiny, the alcohol really hitting you hard. Nova coos, walking over. 

 

They yelp, quite loudly, as you drag them onto the bed, curling into his side. It's innocent. His thoughts should be too. 

 

But all they can think about is your chest pressed against their arms, how easy it would be to just slip your shirt to the side, and touch. Feel.

 

He shakes his head, even if you're both drunk, he can't take advantage of you like that. They refuse to taint you, and that pretty little head of yours. 

 

Stuck in their own thoughts, Nova doesn't even realize you straddle him until it's too late. Your eyes are hazy with lust and alcohol, and he can't help but gulp nervously. 

 

“Angel, really, you...you need to sleep.” Nova tries to reason with you, but reasoning with a horny, drunk Demon, much less an Incubi or Succubi is like arguing with a wall. 

 

You whine, lips lazily smashing against his. Nova can't help but melt into it, and they hate how hard they are from just a touch, a single kiss. 

 

This is wrong. Both of you know this. Yet neither of you can stop it. One kiss turns into two, into three. 

 

“An-Angel!” Nova gasps out as you nip at his collarbone, their neck already covered in love bites and pretty blue and purple bruises. 

 

“Mmph..Wan’ more...Need more, Nova...” You growled out, one hand playing with his chest the other curled in their hair. 

 

More marks. More bites. So many. He looked so pretty like this, a crying mess under their ‘innocent’ friend. 

 

Still, he held enough restraint to stop you, not wanting to ruin your first times together. But, due to your insistence, they do give you some pleasure~

 

Nova sits on his knees, you splayed out on their silk sheets, your slick dripping onto the bed as you whined. Hips jerking up to meet his tongue, hands curled around their halo. 

 

Nova’s tongue swirls against your sex, whining from the taste of your juices against his tongue. It was better then he imagined all those nights, hand playing with their cock, desperate for some relief. 

 

With every swipe and sucking of his mouth, you get closer and closer to that sweet relief you desperately need. With one last gasp, your eyes roll back and hips buck against Nova’s mouth. 

 

Nova laps up every bit of your sweet essence, fucking you through your orgasm. He's gentle after you finish, murmuring praises into your ears as they carry you to their bathroom. 

 

During the bath you end up falling asleep, Nova carries you to bed and the two fall asleep, intangled in each other. 

 

It's morning. Your eyes flutter open, yawning softly as you groaned. Fuck, that's a horrible headache. You glance around, pausing as you feel a weight beside you. What the...

 

Your eyes glide to the person laying beside you, and you pause, your cheeks warming. Nova. You're in Nova’s bed. 

 

Nova, the Cupid boy you met as a kid. Nova, the Cupid you fell for, hard. Nova, the Cupid who always seemed so clueless and innocent. 

 

And they truly look like an Angel right now. The sun shines against against his white hair and skin beautifully, wings folded behind them. 

 

Your face feels even warmer as embarrassment fills you as you see bite marks all over their neck. Bite’s are how Demon’s mark their claim, usually on their mates. Angel’s too. 

 

He let you bite them. And yet, you can't find yourself to be mad over it. Nova’s eyes flutter open, glancing up at you. A soft smile appears on their face, as they lean up and kiss you. 

 

The Angel traps you in his wings and you giggle, curling into them. He's yours, and your his even if you don't know yet. 

 

You took their heart a long time ago. It's time he takes yours too. ♥︎

[sunarinscat]

1:32AM Tomura Shigiraki

“Hey, hold on a second.”

Tomura reached to give you an embrace, but your own hands reached to wrap around wrists first, quickly bringing him to a stop. He stared at you, baffled, and cocked his head to the side, almost as if he was a confused puppy dog. You couldn’t prevent the subtle smile creeping up on you from taking hold of your face.

”Won’t you… yknow.. Decay me or whatever?”

Tomura’s eyes were instantly lit with realization, and you could see him mentally face palm. Despite his foolishness he played it off coyly, making eye contact with you and pulling the corners of his mouth into a haughty smirk.

”Technichally I would only decay that cute little top… witch I personally wouldn’t mind”

You felt your face heat up as he did that thing where he looked at your eyes,and then your lips, then your eyes again. God, this man was going to make you lose your sanity.

”I-I have to be up early tomorrow!” You blurted.

You wished you didn’t or you might’ve let him stay the night.

Tomura’s face lit up in glee as you giggled, feeling a little embarrassed. You allowed your eyes to flutter towards the ground in favor of breaking eye contact with him and his stupid smirk.

”Relax hon, I wasn’t gonna put all my fingers down. Now come give me a hug goodnight.”

You sighed as you gave in, and allowed him to give you a quick squeeze, before stumbling inside to your apartment all giddy and flustered.

You mumbled something to yourself about how that man was gonna be the death of you as you made yourself a cup of something hot to sip. But rethinking the events of the night, you had an idea.

-

A few months later you were hit with a sense of deja vu as Tomura walked you to your apartment door.

“Thanks for today, sweetheart. It sucks I gotta leave early for work tommorow, but I really did have a great time.”

You gave him a little smile as you fumbled through your purse, searching for something.

“Yeah I’m glad we went ahead and celebrated your birthday a day early, but i have one more thing-“

You giggled in anticipation as you pulled out a parcel wrapped in decorative paper and bows.

“It’s for you.”

Tomura’s face lit up with an uncharachteristicly soft glow as he leaned over to give you a peck on the cheeck, and grab the package.

“Awe doll, you’ve already spoiled me rotten today, I dunno what I did to deserve you.”

he said it sarcastically and you returned the favor by rolling you eyes, but you knew he meant it.

“Open it all ready!”

You batted his his lips away from your face as he tried to give you a few more kisses, and encouraged him to open the packaging.

He gently tore the packaging apart, slightly taken back as he pulled out a pair of gloves. They were all fingerless, save the pinky, and were a smooth, comfy fabric that matched his color scheme.

“I knitted them myself”

He looked to you and then back at the gloves.

“You don’t say?” He mumbled quietly.

He slipped them on and wiggled his fingers. In the palm was a little tag that spelled: “I love you! -Y/n”

He blinked his eyes a few times to fight away tears before he wrapped you in the biggest hug. For once he didn’t worry about how many fingers he had on you, all that mattered was your embrace. He lifted you off the ground and spun you. Once he set you down he held your jaw in both his hands and kissed you hard. As you broke away, slightly out of breath, you noticed the tears he wasn’t bothering to fight anymore.

“I love you tomura.”

“I love you more baby. You don’t even realize how much I do.”

“I wish you could stay..”

Tomura grinned.

“Oh would you look at that.”

He was stopped by a fit of coughing.

“I think I’m coming down with a cold. Kurogiri can handle being in charge tomorrow anyways.”

You giggled as he scooped you up in his arms. You spun your keys around your finger and he yanked them out of your hand to unlock the door, kicking it shut behind him.

Author’s Note: Haven’t been on this blog in awhile. I’m back to give it some TLC !Friendly reminder that my asks are open! Don’t be shy to send something my way..

Reposts are always appreciated <3

[rayahayumi]

"why do you have to be so cruel...?"

"c-cmon y/n I was just a little busy! You know I'd never forget it intentionally! It was a mistake!"

Despite what satoru said, it seemed your heart didn't change. Your eyes stained with hurt as your brows furrowed and your lips trembled lightly. He looks at you with an expression spelling worry, one which wishes to coax you and finally hug you into his body—

Yet it seems this desire of him will stay as such as you're hell bent on keeping distance from him and staying mad at him. Your fists bunch up your shirt as you look at him with a wronged expression.

"you PROMISED me that you'd get me your sweater today! It's 3rd December! How could you barge into my house expecting cuddles without your sweater as offering?!"

"babe c'mon! You'll literally have ME as a gift instead! Heather could never!"

Satoru says as he strikes his little sassy man pose. His face expressing righteousness with a pout as he leans his weight on one leg, his hand simultaneously resting on the jutted out hip. Tilting his head down, he eyes you with a narrowed gaze. His black sunglasses sitting atop his straight nose bridge with his bright blue eyes peering over them, looking at you as if you're being a bigger brat than him.

"...b-but still! It's the PRINCIPLE toru!! The principle of sweater sharing!!"

"FUCK THE PRINCIPLE COME HERE ILL WARM YA RIGHT UP"

he exclaims as he launches his body towards you, a sharp grin on his lips as he tackles you into your couch. Both of you, now just a flurry of entangled limbs on the sofa as he looks up at you with puppy eyes as his chin rests on your chest.

"now c'mon my pretty little babe, you better start smiling cause your one and only beautiful boyfriend is cuddling you and warming you up."

He says with a haughty voice, snuggling into your chest before letting out a sigh. You can't help but huff, his adorable display already replacing your urgency for the sweater as you giggle and happily wrap your legs around his hips and let your hands rest on his hair and back, softly rubbing and caressing him as you support a giddy smile.

You're weak to him, to his words, his pouts, his smiles and to be honest anything he does. But oh well, you're loved the same way so I suppose being a little stupid in love doesn't hurt anyone ♡

We'll also ignore his roaming hands, at least they're big and warm hehe.

[bookshelf-dust]

body and soul

sirius black x gn!reader

word count: 1,418

warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos?, flirting, fluff

a/n: hi! i wanted to write more sirius, and here we are. i think this is really sweet. i hope that you enjoy it! also, the title is a mr. darcy line from pride and prejudice (2005). i couldn’t resist, okay? sue me. anyways, let me know what you think and i love you!! <33

————

“I thought you said I could braid your hair, you little shit.” You remove your fingers from his curls. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning his head back to try and chase your hand. “Quite a mouth you’ve got on you.” 

You let up, continuing to scratch your nails over his scalp. You’d say he’s almost purring, but that’d be the wrong animal, you’re afraid. 

Sirius is sat on the floor between your legs. When you’d asked to play with his hair, he’d agreed, though this isn’t what you’d meant. He doesn’t seem to care. If you hear one more “five more minutes,” you might just kill him. 

“Regulus?”

“Hm?” The boy is sprawled out on the bed behind where you sit, flipping through something of Sirius’ he’d picked up upon entering the room.

“Who should we invite to your brother’s funeral?”

He snorts, and you can feel his shoulders shaking against the mattress. Sirius’ eyes snap open. “My what? What crime have I committed that is so heinous for you to now discuss my death?” 

He leans his head back, stormy eyes blinking up at you. 

“You haven’t let me braid your hair when that’s exactly what I asked of you.”

Sirius lets out a whine. “But I like the scratches.” 

“I know you do. But, frankly my love, you’re being a pain in my ass.”

He turns around to face you, sitting up on his knees, hands grabbing at your ankles. “Oh but I like your ass, wouldn’t want to hurt it now, would we?”

“Okay, gross. I’m going,” Regulus proclaims, but he doesn’t move an inch. He flips over onto his back, shielding his eyes with his forearm.

“Can I braid yours, Reg?” 

He peeks at you from underneath his arm. “Sure.”

You push further back on Sirius’ bed, trying to escape his grasp. He’s quick to stand, towering over you, hands creeping up your legs. There’s a look of faux betrayal on his face; you know better than to think he’d actually be upset about you choosing his brother’s hair to braid first. 

“Get back, you dog.”

Sirius gasps, and with one scandalized hand pressed to his chest—the other slapping at his sibling for laughing—you dart out of his range. 

You make it to the other side of the bed, Regulus now in between the both of you. The boy settles, cross legged in the space, and you sit up on your knees to rake through his waves. His hair is a little less wild than his brothers, but just as thick and smooth. 

“Sirius, my love, would you get me the ties and a brush, please?”

The look he receives from you tells him that he has no other choice. He retrieves them for you, though he gives you his best puppy dog eyes before handing them over. “Kiss.”

You smack one on his cheek, and steal the items from his hands. He looks appalled, and sits himself against the headboard, grumpy and brooding. 

Regulus’s hair isn’t nearly as long as Sirius’s, but there’s enough that you make two small french braids with the front section of his hair, tying them together at the crown of his head. You think he looks fantastic, and he’d be lying to himself if he said otherwise. 

He wanders off after his hair is done with, clearly finished with the both of your antics. 

Sirius crosses his arms, giving you a haughty look, as if he doesn’t need attention from you. Really he’s dying for a kiss, for you to play with his hair some more. 

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy, sweetheart,” you coo. He lets his arms drop, mouth ticking up at the corners. He loves it when you call him that. 

“Gimme a kiss, and a good one,” he warns, holding his finger up, “and you may have your way with me.”

“Oh, I may?” You scoot up towards him, hands planting firmly against the mattress on either side of his thighs. 

“Damn right, you may,” he laughs, completely enthralled with you.

You lean in, keeping your eyes on his—something else he’s fond of. You slot your mouth against his, finding the press of his lips to be warm and all-encompassing. Sirius has this way of kissing you, pushing his feelings outward and into you, letting you know how utterly taken he is. How much love he has for you. He makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, like he will protect you from anything and everything. Nothing touches his baby. 

You try to pull away, but should know better. Sirius is greedy, always wanting seconds and thirds. And he gets them. Every. Fucking. Time. 

When he does let you go, it’s only to scoot further down the bed so that you can rise up onto your knees behind him. He likes it better this way because he can feel the heat of your body much more than if he were to sit on the floor. Being close to you makes him feel safe. Especially in a bedroom that has been a sanctuary from the rest of his home for so long. It’s better still with you in it. 

You comb through his mess of curls, and he tries his best not to groan each time you yank a little too hard. Once the knots are gone, you part his hair down the middle and separate it so you can braid each side. 

Sirius closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hands in his hair, the way your fingers send a chill down his spine each time they graze his neck. 

He’ll never understand how good you are at this, how you could do it with your eyes closed if you had to. He’s watched you do it numerous times, weaving each strand underneath the other, and you’ve even offered to teach him how someday so he can put it up when you’re not around. 

He’s gotten the hang of a regular braid; he just likes it better when you do it. Sirius also thinks he has to keep his hair long forever, because he couldn’t stand to deprive you of this. 

He feels when you finish one braid, the weight of it resting on one shoulder as you begin work on the other. 

“Going to sleep on me, baby?” you question, noticing how quiet he is. 

“Of course not,” he quips, reaching around to squeeze your waist.

You hold the braid firm in one hand, using the other the gently grab his jaw and turn him to face you. You kiss him once, short and sweet, and Sirius doesn’t think he could be more content. More cared for.

“Enjoying this, Black?” You’re beaming at him, eyes alight. This close you can see the freckles on the apples of his cheeks, across his nose. They’re light, but they’re most definitely there. And they’re gorgeous. 

“You know I am. You know, I really think you do it because it shuts me up.” 

You return to braiding, weaving the strands behind his ear together as securely as you can get them. “You got me.”

Sirius chuckles, a warm and honey-like sound. It fills your every nerve with glee.

“I’m all done,” you tell him, sinking back down into the mattress and stretching out your legs, knees having started to ache from being in that position for too long. 

Sirius spins around, grabbing hold of your ankles and tugging so that you fall back onto the bed. He pulls until you’re where he wants you, his body between your legs. He braces his arms on either side of your head, looking down at you, nothing but pure adoration in his eyes. 

“How do I look?”

You yank gently on the ends of his pigtails. “Gorgeous, as always.”

He chuckles. “Oh, how you flatter me, my love.”

You snort, and he enjoys the sound tremendously. Sirius presses his cheek to yours, nuzzling into your hair.

“I love you.” He whispers it into your ear, and the rasp in his voice gives you goosebumps.

“I love you too, baby.” You whisper the response into his ear as he’d done to yours, and the action makes him so happy that he pulls away just so he can kiss you. So that he can kiss every square inch of your face. 

“Thank you for letting me play with your hair,” you say. 

He winks at you, smacking an obnoxiously loud kiss to the center of your throat. “Anytime, my sweet.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[telvess]

Record of Ragnarok Poseidon (relationship headcanons) 🔞

My first attempt in writing anything in… eternity. I’m not a native English speaker but trying to improve myself, sorry for all mistakes I've made. I didn’t write any major spoilers but used knowledge from manga. Also + still no clue how tumblr works.

Poseidon is such a adorable idiot.

SFW Not gonna lie, to catch his eye (not to mention eye-to-eye contact) there will be needed someone really specific. Someone similar to him in general, but unique in details. I think Poseidon is really good observant. Just because he’s indifferent to others, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t pay attention. He would notice nuances in behaviour, manners and gestures. His future s/o must be elegant, self-contained and pride. Maybe not in the haughty way but undoubtedly confident in her position as a goddess. Definitely not ‘damsel in distress’ type, she has to have guts to rule her sphere, protect her opinion and status. No other god or goddess shall stick their nose in her business. Unless they’re ready for harsh words or worse. In summary: a less extreme version of Poseidon. On the other hand, I don't think these qualities are enough to draw Poseidon's interest. It’s good base but potential s/o must get under his skin. Intentionally or no, she has to do or say something that would get his attention, and annoy him… He wasn't seeking her subtle chitchat, nor did he want to end up witnessing her fight! Congratulations, miss! You accidentally annoyed Tyrant of the Seas! Choose a burial place. Jokes aside, the best thing s/o can do here is ignore Poseidon. He thinks he wants that, but hey! Looks like he played himself. Now s/o annoys him even more and he cannot understand why. Such a useless bottom feeder and he can’t get over her?

She was like a sea: capricious and unpredictable in nature, always remained resistant to the expectations of others. But sea bend to his will like tamed puppy. He stamp his foot and it humbly part before him. That’s what he couldn’t stand - how little control he had over her, how unbearably free this woman was compared to other gods who ran away in terror as soon as he merely frowned.

Poseidon would catch himself thinking about her in the least expected moments. He used to almost never leave his realm, now suddenly is more present in social life. Still doesn’t care much, usually just staying in loneliness that nobody dare to disturb and observing from distant object of his contempt. As if nothing had changed, yet it did. Probably the only people that would notice he’s different will be Hermes and Hades. When first one won’t act on it nor share his observations, the eldest brother definitely won’t resist to make some ambiguous comments.

— Well that’s unusual of you, dear brother — said Hades. He toyed with his glass of wine, watching carefully Poseidon, who looked as unconcerned as ever. However he honoured him with one short glance. Hades couldn’t stop the corners of his lips to lift up. Did his little brother seem… disturbed? Or was that just his imagination? If Hades could pick one thing out of everything known in the universe that was unshakable and untouched by time or any other matter Poseidon would be his choice. Unaffected stability that did not leave any room for doubt and yet… something… someone push his stern brother out of his safe zone. Hades couldn’t wait to see what else the future may bring to them. He just hoped the intruder will be able to keep up with the challenge.

It will actually take a lot of time for Poseidon to realize that he isn’t annoyed with s/o but himself. Idea of being attached to another person is almost physically uncomfortable. It’s new and suspicious. The moment of understanding is the flash point of the relationship. At this point Poseidon would abandon distant admiration and start acting. He is still slightly annoyed but what’s more irritate him is the absent of that unbearable mouth of s/o. Poseidon would sit next to her or stand much closer at any events. At first she won't notice, but over time she'll start to connect the facts. She’s not dumb. Quiet neither. If she point it out, he may mock her.

— Why don't you just ask me to dance instead of deterring others? It would be a graceful way to start a relationship. Poseidon gave her almost cold look. — Such a audacity — his voice teetered on the verge of indifference - he thought so. She snorted. Her eyes weren’t darkened with anger, sparks of mirth still shone in them. Maybe even more after his refusal. Then she turned to face him and, with a subtle but promising smile, began to close the distance between them. Poseidon remained calm as she came within inches of him. He could feel the warm breath of hers, the smell of fresh air… — You know you want me — she whispered without hesitation. Something unbearably nagging was born in Poseidon’s belly. And that annoying heat under it… almost as someone wounded him. He frowned but didn’t move away. — How are you going to win me over if you can't stop fighting with yourself? — she asked innocently and didn't wait for an answer - just left him on the balcony.

Truth be told, Poseidon wasn’t made for small talks so s/o is doing most of the part and - to provoke a reaction - teasing him a bit. After a while, they both find the silence in their presence pleasant. Poseidon’s seduce tactic would mostly navigate around small gestures such as gifts. However he won’t send them like every normal suitor. If his s/o lives near the ocean or is often near it, she would probably find many beautiful pearls by chance. All of them in her favourites colours of course. Is she basking on the beach? The finest shells surround her. Is she admiring shoal of fish, coral reef or just the sound of the sea? There are no storms. And go on… It’s hard for Poseidon to overcome his pride and openly talk about his desire. When he finally bring himself to it, he’ll sound angry as if he’s doing something unworthy of him. Once s/o assures him that she wants to know more, Poseidon would relax.

— I want you to remind me every day how unbearable I am. How capricious… how impertinent… — she kissed his hand without taking her eyes off him and then put it to her cheek. Poseidon liked the cool touch of her skin — And still watch me with that quiet yet deep fascination.

Yeah, s/o has to make it official by saying out loud how she feels and Poseidon generously accept the offer…

NSFW For Poseidon to be in any relationship, especially romantic is almost impossible. He doesn’t get involved with others because, in his opinion, they’re not worth it. So nobody would force on him arranged marriage. He must be the one choosing that path. That’s why I don’t believe he would ever degenerating his s/o. The reason is simple - he would treat his wife with the same level of respect he treats Hades. Otherwise she wouldn’t be his wife; she cannot be someone less. I also don’t think he would praise her much, probably only when he’s in right mood she would hear complement here and there. His s/o must be good at reading his minimalistic facial expressions and body language. She may notice how his eyes widen in admiration, how he holds his breath for a moment or tightens the jaw muscles when feels really good. He’s not vocal; purrs or growls only on occasion. Poseidon has his moments where he shows desire for s/o. He won’t say it loud but won’t take his eyes off her as she undress in the evening. Yeah, she definitely gonna feel that burning look on her back. The only place where he become caring and warm is in bedroom, in private, far from servants’ eyes. These kind of moments are rare. Mostly because they both take their responsibilities seriously, which means they've been separated for a long time. Poseidon is calm, methodical lover. He’s detail-oriented - would leave no curve or plane untouched from his hands or tongue. He’ll enjoy every sound, shaking and blush s/o make, and act in accordance with the mentioned gestures. Poseidon prefers variants of missionary position to share eye contact though he wouldn’t say no to his s/o if she wants to ride him. In intimidating moment he enjoys challenging her to not close eyes when he thrusts deep into her. He starts with slow and almost annoyed pace that soon becomes raw and firm when they both chase their release. Afterward they usually lay in bed in silent, both satisfied and tired. Poseidon won’t say it loud but he really likes when his wife show him affections at that time. Slowly almost lazily massaging his chest, touching his neck and jaw, putting small kisses on his ear or cheek. Her tender words soft him. Poseidon doesn’t entirely return the favour but when she does all this to him, he caresses her back, pretending to be indifferent.