#this man can act SO WELL with just his face

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids (pt.2)

[<- part 1]

"Oh, yeah," John jerks his head up like he just remembered the fact people are supposed to have names at all. He gestures to the kids, pointing to each of them as he introduces, "Daniel, Daniel, and Danielle."

This time, all three kids flip him off simultaneously. Bruce clears his throat, trying to figure out if Constantine is messing with him and, if so, in which parts. Since, so far, everything the man has said sounds like a poor attempt at pulling his leg.

"I don't think they like those," he cautiously says, and the kids whip their heads at him, nodding furiously. Bruce can't help but be just a little enamored with the way they behave.

"Of, sod off, at this point I don't care what they like," John straightens up with a dismissive, albeit weak, wave of his hands, and rubs his face, "They are menaces. Sometimes by accident, but mostly on purpose. Their grandfather thought it would be easier to handle them if they were not teenagers, and while I agreed with his reasoning at the time, I-" he glances at the kids, who all have displeased grimaces of various levels on their faces, "I have been made to reconsider. I swear that ancient bitch is laughing his ass off wherever he is now."

The kids suddenly grin. They are not very friendly, nor polite smiles - if anything, they look a bit nightmarish. An old grandfather's clock in his study makes a very loud ticking noise.

"See?" John whips his head to look at said clock, the expression on his face bordering on insane. His eye twitches.

If Bruce doesn't do anything now, he might become one of the very few people who managed to witness John Constantine, the Laughing Magician, have a meltdown. So he sighs and decides to solve the problems one at a time.

Which means that no matter how alarmed or suspicious he is, his first move would not be to interrogate either the man or the kids.

"You can sleep in one of the guest rooms, I trust you can find it on your own," he tells John, almost softly, as he catches the girl from slipping away from his lap, "Is there anything I need to know about children before you fall unconscious?"

John slumps with relief, so obviously that Bruce almost smiles. Hardships of raising - or, watching, for that matter - kids, he understands.

"Yes," he breathes out with an air of exhilaration and turns to the kids again, pointing to the middle child, "Danny is the original. He is from this dimension and timeline, that is. Dan," he turns his finger to the older boy, "is in the wrong timeline, he's Danny's future evil self redeemed into older bratty brother. Dani," he switches to the girl, "is Danny's clone, made by his arch-nemesis of a godfather. If she starts melting at any point, wake me up immediately. If any of them start floating, sprouting tentacles, speaking to walls in static, or glowing, don't."

Bruce looks down to the kids. So, definitely metas, that would explain the government trying to get them... Or, no, it wouldn't because he is fairly certain no government is going to blatantly ignore the Meta Protection Acts.

"Don't let them raise the dead, and if you give them food, make sure it doesn't have a face. If you find more than three of them, it means one of them has duplicated, don't worry, they will absorb it back later. Absolutely don't let them touch any guns," Constantine is backing down to the door as he speaks, his gaze flickering from the kids to Bruce and back every second. Like he is leaving a ticking bomb in Bruce's lap, and not three children. "Danny is, comparatively, the most responsible one, the other two are up for any dubious trouble they can get to at any moment. Oh, and their memories are wonky because of de-aging, they remember some things but not others, so if they say something particularly disturbing, it's most likely some random piece of knowledge they managed to keep."

Bruce raises an eyebrow. He did get the part about the kids being, well, abnormal in the matters of their origins, but the disjointed set of rules and advices doesn't help as much as Constantine probably thinks it does.

"Allergies, preferences, ages they were before?" He tries to get at least some more info down before John disappears through the door. Actually, maybe he should send someone to handcuff the man to the bed lest he disappears completely.

"None, but don't let them eat cutlery. Danny likes space, Dani has a thing for exploring, and Dan likes violence." The older kid stirs in Bruce's lap and says something in the direction of Constantine. No sound comes out, but the man seems to get what he's trying to say anyway, "Okay, yes, that was rude of me, sorry. Dan likes... exercise," he ends up with, and that placate the boy enough to slump down and cross his arms. John sighs, "They were seventeen, fourteen, and twenty respectively. Now," he snaps his fingers, and suddenly Bruce can hear the girl - Dani - humming a tune under her breath. So, he lifted the silence spell, it seems.

"Good fucking luck," John wishes to Bruce, earnestly, and all but vanishes away.

Bruce sighs and looks down to the kids.

"Are you hungry?" He tries, and all eyes are on him at once, attentive and unblinking.

"Fruitloops," Danny says, and while Bruce is positive that's the name for a cereal, he gets a feeling that's not what the kid meant.

[heart-eyed-love]

Your Stupid Little Fucker

Summary | Eddie teases you about a said stuffed animals that turns out you don't have anymore and he takes that to heart.

Contains | Fem!Reader, Friends-to- Lovers (eventually), Cursing…

Word Count | 1.3k

An | Soooo, I kinda want to make series of oneshots and drabbles and what not for a bestfriend!eddie and bestfriend!reader, so i think this will be my first installment of that… and i’ll write stuff for the timeline that will be put out, out of order but i’ll make a masterlist so everything can be ordered correctly @_@ (which is also heavily inspired by the way wheels-of-despair sets up her amazing evil woman series)

“And you still sleep with it?” Jeff laughs as he questions Gareth, whose face only seems to be getting redder. But you’re not sure whether it’s from embarrassment or building anger.

“No, I don’t sleep with it, Asshole.” Gareth glares over at the boy, “Just because I still have it doesn’t mean I sleep with it.” 

“Then why do you still have it?” Grant questions with a grin. As he lifted the stuffed animal off of Gareth's bed as he seemed to inspect it.

Gareth was 100% not enjoying the interrogation on the stuffed rabbit that he had had since he was a baby. If he had known that everyone would have ended up in his room after band practice he would’ve hidden the ratty old thing.

“My mom is making me keep it.” It was a lie, and obvious one at that, but just in time Eddie cut in. Ultimately it wasn’t to benefit Gareth, but rather to put you on the spot.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man. (Y/n) still sleeps with one too!” He looks over to you with a smirk, teasing tone he knows will piss you off. And he’s proud to be met with a glare already staring back at him.

“No, I don’t.” The other boys giggle, but Gareth feels your pain so he stays quiet.

“So, you don’t still sleep with that stuffed bat?” He eggs you on.

Ah. The stuffed bat. One that Eddie himself had so proudly won for you back in your freshman year. He was pleasantly surprised with himself that night at the fair, an “athletic” game that involved him throwing? And actually successfully knocking down all the pins? Yeah, he was pretty stoked, he was able to pull that off on the first try. If he had missed those with you standing next to him that experience would have been all too humbling.

But no, he had successfully won you a prize. A stuffed bat he picked, and he turned to you with an overly cocky smile for a guy who had gotten lucky with his shots.

But the bat seemed fitting, something he’d selfishly hoped you would see and immediately think of him.

“For me?” You ask with a smirk as he hands the plush over to you.

“Yeah, well I don’t have much use for it…” He’s trying to act all cool about it, but he knows he only even purchased tickets to play that game for you.

“Well, thank you, kind sir.” You smile up at him.

“Yeah, whatever, dork.” He shoves your head playfully and turns away before the slight redness of his cheeks can be noticed by you.

To say the least, that night was a night both of you remembered fondly. One of your favorite memories is Eddie gifting you that stuffed bat, and now he’s using it to try to embarrass you?

“No, I actually don’t, Eddie. I got rid of that thing.” Lie, big lie. It currently sat smack dap next to the pillow you slept on but you weren’t going to admit that. It probably wasn’t the best thing to lie about but right now, you didn’t care, he was trying to embarrass you and you weren’t going to let him get the satisfaction.

But why should you be embarrassed? Is it weird that you kept it after all this time? Is it weird that you feel so attached to it because Eddie gave it to you?

But in the slight blinded anger you felt, the fall of Eddie’s cheeky, teasing attitude had gone unnoticed by you. 

“You got rid of it?”

“Yeah, kinda just outgrew it I guess.” He watches you shrug like it’s nothing, like he had won that thing especially for you.

And truthfully, as Eddie thought back to it he couldn’t actually recall if it had been in your room the last time he went in there, he really just couldn’t remember. 

Thankfully for you though, cause yeah, it was still in there then too.

The boys have already moved on to another subject, and Jeff and Grant recklessly went through Gareth's comics as he screeched at them to be careful snatching it away from Grant. You walk past Eddie and over to the boys, taking your own time to look through the piles, trying to forget lying directly to Eddie’s face.

He stood moderately frozen at the news you just broke to him, but he pulled himself out of it and rejoins the groups, staying rather quiet as he went through the comics.

Staying way quieter than Eddie normally would all the way until pulling back up to your house that evening. And you finally crack…

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a brow raised in confusion as you looked over at the boy. 

“Nothing, wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“Cause you’re barely talking… and while I do love this peace and quiet…” you tease but to no avail, “it’s not like you…”

“Did you actually get rid of it?” He turns to you suddenly, and you’re partially surprised by the harsh tone.

“What?” You know exactly what but you don’t know how to get into this right now.

“Did you actually get rid of it? Like did you give it away or did you just throw it in the garage or something?” His tone becomes more annoyed by the second, and you actually fear you might have made him mad. Which wasn't what you had even wanted in the first place, you just wanted him off your back.

“I never said-“ But he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because honestly it’s kinda shitty if you did either way.”

Now you’re rolling your eyes and he’s widening his. Why don’t you care about this?

Why isn’t he letting you speak? Instead of even trying to explain you just slide out of the van as Eddie watches with furrowed brows. 

Were you actually walking away from him right now?

“Are you coming?” You ask over your shoulder as you approach your front door, and you stand there as you watch Eddie scrambling to turn his van off and hop out to meet you at the door.

You both walk to your bedroom silently, and Eddie trails behind you kind of confused but ultimately letting this play out. And as you open your bedroom door you walk a few feet in and you point to the soft plush sitting next to your pillow.

“Where it literally sits every single time you come over, where it sits every single day. I don’t know how you actually believed me.”

“Why did you lie…?” He asks softly.

“Cause you were obviously trying to embarrass me for still having it.”

“What? No! I was just messing around, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad about it, (Y/n)…” He tries to defend, “Sorry… I’m glad you still have it, relieved actually.”

“Yeah, Well no shit, I thought you were about to start crying in the van…” You tease, lightening the moment.

“I was not about to cry.” He glares, “It’d just be pretty rude, considering I almost threw my back out trying to win that stupid thing for you.”

“Almost threw your back out?!” You cackle out at his dramatics, “Eddie, the pins weren’t even 10 feet away from you.”

“Yeah, I put my athletic abilities to the test for you and this is the thanks I get?” You pull fingers into quotes as he mentions his athletic abilities, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“You did all that just for me?” You tease with a smirk, “You really won that for me?” 

“Yeah, whatever. Thought it would be nice.” He rolls his eyes again and plops onto your bed, purposely knocking the stuffed bat off your bed, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

“Oh my Gosh, you did not just do that!” You screech as you dramatically pick him up and cradle him to your chest with faux shock.

“What? That stupid fuckers causing a lot of drama.” He smiles playfully.

“Yeah, well, he’s my stupid fucker.” You say setting the bat back down in its rightful spot. Smiling down at Eddie as you do.

And he can’t help but smile back. 

God, he hopes he can be your stupid fucker too.

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

The ABCs of Alastor - Dirty Secret

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!

Words: ~1600 TW: oral (female receiving) while on period

"Why are you avoiding me?"

It was a simple question. One simple question, yet the way he looked at you gave away the fact that this was far from the truth.

Alastor never seemed to be so good at comforting people, but with you at least he tried. He'd spend hours with you whenever you were sad, giving you his wise advice that most of the time implied killing someone. He'd bring you different gifts whenever you said you were interested in something. And you damn well knew he would murder someone who dared to do you wrong.

So it was kind of hard to understand why he avoided you so much every time you were on your period. Every time you needed him by your side, he'd disappear without a trace. You'd cry for days from how crazy your hormones were acting and how bad your cramps were and he would be nowhere to be seen. Why?

You thought that maybe it had something to do with his human life. Perhaps he was repulsed by the whole idea, but it was kind of hard to believe that someone like him would get so easily scared by something so simple.

Alastor avoided your gaze and looked elsewhere, he shifted from standing still to leaning against the wall with one hand still placed behind his back. You could tell something clearly bothered him, but it was hard to understand what. "I'm not avoiding you, my dear."

"Then why do you always disappear when I'm on my period?" You saw his smile faintly twitching, his ears pressed back on his head. "Are... Are you disgusted by me?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit emotional at the thought that it would affect him this much.

"No! Of course not!" He said in a somewhat surprised tone, clearly shocked by the question and immediately approaching you. He stands in front of you, towering over you in height. He was still unable to look into your eyes directly as if there was something else bothering him. "It's just..."

"What?"

"Blood," he said bluntly, his tone so low that you could only guess that's what he said.

"It's... what?"

Alastor sighed, looking down at the floor as he did so. He was struggling to explain himself and his facial expression gave it away. He was ashamed, and his pride was slowly shattering at how weak he felt. "It's your blood, my dear... It makes me feel..." he was tapping on his cane, a dark blush spreading on his face. The sight of him all flustered made your heart tingle, but you kept it to yourself, knowing he wouldn't talk to you for days if you said something that you shouldn't.

"... horny?" you asked, not really finding a better explanation for his embarrassment.

Alastor's face went beet red at your question, as he slowly raised his head to look at you, a bit taken aback by your bluntness "I- What- ...That is-" He stuttered, speechless for a few seconds until he finally mumbled out something. "That's one way to put it I suppose, my dear."

You let out an audible 'Oh.' as you made the connections in your head. It made sense considering his preferences, but you never imagined it could have such an impact on him.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked.

Alastor still tried his best to avoid your gaze, now placing a hand over at least half his face to try and hide his expression. He was too embarrassed to speak, and he was silently scolding himself for acting like a fool who didn't know how to talk to a woman properly. "I..." he began but then gave up trying to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell you that he'd eat you up like a starved man whenever you got your period? How was he supposed to say to you he's so weak he can't even control his urges over a normal, biological process?

"You know..." you started, making him look at you, your face blushing softly as this new idea popped into your head. "I think we can... solve this... somehow..."

"Fuck! Fuck, Alastor - Ahh~"

His tongue was driving you crazy, as his claws dug into your things, making sure you keep your legs open for him. Alastor was completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the intoxicating taste of you and the animalistic urge to lick every drop of blood, his senses heightened and all control slipping away. He can't think straight, can't even form a coherent thought, overwhelmed by the need to have you completely.

The sloppy sounds of him eating you up so eagerly echoed in the room, as your grip on his antlers tightened, a low growl vibrating through your body. His usual collected demeanour was long gone as his tongue pumped in and out of you, sucking and kissing your clit, desperate to consume you entirely.

His mind was a chaotic, primal whirlwind of raw need, every sense and thought completely consumed by the overwhelming hunger for you. He couldn't hold back even if he tried; every movement, every sound he made was fueled by an uncontrollable animalistic desire. He was practically snarling against you, his growls a stark contrast to the usual suave tone of his voice.

Your heart skipped a bit as his form grew in size, his radio-dial eyes looking at you, a hint of madness in them. His long tongue delved deeper and deeper, exploring every part of you. The suction and rhythmic movement made your head spin, and the sight of his now monstrous form between your legs was almost too much to handle.

"You have no idea how torturous it was for me, my dear..." you heard him say, the static in his voice almost deafening. "Smelling all this blood without being able to taste..." Long fingers entered you roughly, moving at a fast pace as a thin coat of red liquid covered them.

"Ahh~ Shit, Alastor! I'm gonna... Ahhh~"

His pace quickened as he sucked on your clit, the room spinning as your body aggressively trembled against his mouth. The sudden burst of pleasure almost made you cry, as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers.

The thin line between pain and pleasure threatened to be crossed as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm. The lights in the room flickered as his gaze never left yours for a moment. You shivered slightly, feeling as if you were about to be literally eaten alive by him.

His sharp teeth were full of blood, but you knew he craved more. He always told you how addicted he was to you, how much he needed to just have you completely. And he was going to.

His fingers were quickly replaced again by his tongue, the familiar feeling inside of you rapidly building up again.

"Alastor! Ah~ I can't!" you begged, feeling as if you were about to pass out any moment now, a low growl vibrating against your aching core. If you were being completely honest, you weren't even sure if he heard you. You squirmed against his grasp, only for his claws to dig deeper into the soft skin of your things, making sure you were not moving until he was satisfied.

Your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping the bedsheet that was now probably drenched in your blood. Alastor is in the thralls of primal ecstasy, his whole being hyper-focused on consuming you, giving into the animalistic needs that have taken over his mind entirely. The taste of you on his tongue, the sight of you writhing desperately beneath him, are driving him wilder and wilder, his self-control completely shattered.

You scream his name as you orgasm once again and you could swear you almost fainted when you reached the peak, even the feeling of his tongue sliding out of you becoming a torture.

Your vision was blurry as your body relaxed, the sudden feeling of his hand on your stomach, slowly caressing it, making you shiver. You turned to face him, and his appearance returned back to normal as blood was scattered all over his face.

He is panting heavily, the intense primal need somewhat sated for now, replaced by the more familiar persona of the charming radio demon. His touch on your aching skin was a stark contrast to the wildness he'd just displayed. His gaze, although calmer than before, still held a hint of raw hunger. He looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion.

"Are you alright, love?"

The way he used that word always made your heart skip a beat, especially now when you saw him so hungry... only for you. You just nodded, not a single word being able to make it out of you. He let go of a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through you, as he enjoyed the effect he had on you.

Alastor moved closer to you, his frame enveloping your smaller figure protectively. He gently wiped some sweat from your forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair too. He was being affectionate and caring, his usual composed demeanour returning, though you were sure it was not gonna last long.

"You're quite a mess, aren't you, darling?" he teased with a smirk, his voice low and sultry. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he got up, making his way to the bathroom to prepare you a warm bath.

So, no, Alastor may never have been good at comforting people the way others were, but with you, he always found a way. Even if his methods were… unconventional, they were his way of showing you just how deeply he cared.

And in the end, you were left to wonder—how many other secrets did he keep even from you? Secret passions, secret dreams... maybe even secrets dirtier than this one. You lay there, smiling to yourself, eager to uncover the rest of his secrets—one by one.

Tags: @ratsematary @littlebluefishtail @xalygatorx @martinys-world

@alastorthirsty @diffidentphantom @itsaubreyofcc @n0tmentallystable

@lettuce-frog16 @eris-norwega @readergirlstuff

@vxllys @xghostnuggsx @ohmylovewhereartthou-blog

@l3rittany @ustulia @catticora

[ask-me-later23]

Can you write a little blurb about reader having a sleepy cuddly afternoon with Spencer?

Soft rays of light drifted through the curtains and across your face, a gentle reminder from the sun of its limited time with you. As much as you wanted to continue your adventures within your dreamscape, you were quickly stolen away, back to the real world. Back to the too small couch currently hosting you and your too tall boyfriend, Spencer. 

Afternoons like this were rare with him, he was always on call and even when he was home you both were typically too busy to spend an afternoon doing nothing. You both got the afternoon off and while you had said it would be just a few minutes of rest, those few minutes turned into a few hours, which had developed into the entire day.

Spencer was still asleep, you try not to move too much and wake him. His insomnia refuses to let him sleep for more than a few hours, so you know he needs what rest he can get.

This was also your favorite time to look at him, when he had his guard down and looked the most at peace. The beams that drew you from sleep now dance across his curls, making them shine a golden color that reminds you of honey. Freckles are sprinkled across his skin. You remember how you used to make a game of kissing each of them when you first got together. The memories bring a soft smile to your face as you listen to his snores. 

As if realizing he’s being watched, Spencer finally stirs. His eyes flitter open, revealing the rich, brown color that always reminded you of dark, vintage books. The corner of his lips tilt up into a smile and he pulls you in tighter. 

“Good afternoon sleepy,” you mumble as you nuzzle into his neck.

He plants a soft kiss onto your forehead. “Sleep well?”

“As well as I can having to listen to your loud ass snoring,” you tease, sitting up to check the time on your phone. 

Spencer rolls his eyes and rests his head back against the arm of the couch, stretching his arm across his face to cover the light. “45% of adult males snore on a regular basis, and it only gets worse with age. You should really get used to it.”

“Guess I’ll just have to go find somewhere else to sleep then.” You act like you’re going to stand up, only to have Spencer jump up from his resting position and drag you back down with him, his grasp unusually strong for a man of his stature. 

“Not gonna happen.” His grip holds firm as you attempt to wiggle away, giggling.

“We really should get up and be productive,” you murmur into his chest where he currently has your face stuck.

“Productivity is for tomorrow, today is for sleeping and comfort.”

While your mind tells you that his logic is faulty, you can’t ignore how his sweater smells strongly of books and laundry detergent, or how comforting that smell is. You also cannot ignore the circles he is currently rubbing on your back, just underneath your own sweater. So, instead of protesting, you nestle in closer and shut your eyes once more.

“Sleep it is.”

You both drift off to sleep again, locked in each other’s arms and isolated from the outside world. When you inevitably wake again and hear Spencer’s soft snores, all you can do is smile.

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[mononijikayu]

gum— ryomen sukuna.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!

WARNING/S: nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, smut, oral (female receiving) fingering, orgasm, humor, teasing, flirting, playfulness, possessiveness, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, depiction of sexual acts, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, bad boy bf! sukuna, goodie two shoes gf!;

WORD COUNT: 1.2k words.

NOTE: the song ggum by txt's yeonjun is stuck in my head and i just??? i can't stop listening to it right now. i want to stop, but like??? its really really good. anyway, i'm working on other things right now and most of them are going to be in the longer format. but i hope you enjoy them anyway. i'll be back with something new soon!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IF THERE’S ANYTHING SUKUNA’S GOOD AT, IT'S CHEWING GUM AND WINNING YOU. And your boyfriend revels in it. Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your fingers tangling in the sheets beneath you as Ryomen Sukuna’s mouth works you over with expert precision.

It’s a sight you never thought you’d be part of—a "goodie two-shoes" girl, everyone’s picture-perfect student, tangled up with the campus bad boy. But here you are, completely undone. He’s the only one who can do this to you. And he knows it.

You could feel his rough hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you pinned down while his tongue moves skillfully against your throbbing core. He grinned as though he was delighted. Because you know he was. You knew that he was happy, that none would see him the way he does. No one's allowed to see his goodie two shoes like this but him. And no one will.

You can't stop the loud echoing moans spilling from your lips, the intensity of his mouth sending sparks through your body. Your hips move on their own, grinding against his face as his tongue flicks and curls in a rhythm that drives you to the edge.

You glance down, and the sight of him between your legs only adds fuel to the fire. His bright scarlet eyes lock with yours, a wicked gleam in them as he gives you a grin, never slowing his pace. Your face twists in pleasure, a mix of gasps and whimpers falling from your lips. Your boyfriend’s the most wicked man in the world. And you’re excited about it. 

You feel like you’re going to lose it, your body trembling, legs shaking as he pulls you deeper into a euphoric haze. You haven’t come in a while, not even when you want to. You were too crazy about not failing your exams. And Sukuna respected that. But you know it too well that it got the best of him too, to wait. He likes pleasure as much as he loves you. And Sukuna adores having both. 

Even with his tongue buried deep between your thighs, Ryomen Sukuna’s bad-boy persona never falters. You catch the faintest scent of mint—he’s chewing gum, the same cocky grin stretching across his lips while he devours you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

You don't know why he does it. But he does this sometimes. And he enjoys it. So you feel the sweetness of his mouth and the mint of his breath take you in as though there was nothing sweeter or delicious in the world than you.

The rhythm of his tongue never stops, even as he adjusts his jaw slightly, that damn piece of gum rolling from one side of his mouth to the other. It’s maddening, the way he’s so casual about it, like he isn’t unraveling you entirely, like he’s not completely in control.

Your body’s trembling, skin on fire as you push your hips harder against his mouth, chasing the wave of pleasure building with every stroke of his tongue. He hums against your soaked core, and the vibration sends a shudder up your spine. 

"Mm, tastes better than gum, doll." he murmurs, his voice muffled, laced with amusement. "You tastin' so good, even better than before."

He doesn't even stop to swallow his words, just dives back in, his grip on your thighs tightening, pulling you closer to his face. You bite your lip to stifle a scream, overwhelmed by the sensation. It was all too much. And yet you still craved for more.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably, and Sukuna seems to revel in it, his mouth never losing its cruel, delicious pace. You’re so close, teetering on the edge, and the sound of him lazily chewing that gum only heightens the absurdity, making your head spin.

You grind against his face, desperate for release, and with a low growl, Sukuna pushes you over the brink. The world around you shatters into blinding pleasure as your body shakes and trembles under his relentless mouth. His tongue doesn’t let up, riding you through the waves, leaving you breathless and spent, pinned under the weight of his wicked grin.

Your chest heaves as you struggle to catch your breath, still trembling from the intense orgasm Sukuna just pulled from you. Unshed tears pooling in your eyes, your head slanted to the side, as you take a breath. He made a mess out of you.

He pulls back slightly, lips glistening with evidence of his handiwork, and that damn piece of gum is still in his mouth, rolling lazily over his tongue. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and then, with that smug grin of his, he looks up at you, eyes dark with mischief.

"Didn't expect the good girl to be such a mess, doll." he teases, his voice low and full of that rough-edged charm. His fingers trace lazy circles along your inner thigh, sending aftershocks through your overstimulated body. “You sure you're not addicted to this already?”

You try to glare at him, but your body betrays you, hips still twitching slightly, aching for more despite everything.

"S-Shut up!" you manage to gasp, but it’s weak, your voice shaky from how thoroughly he wrecked you. The smirk on his face grows wider as he leans forward, his breath hot against your thigh.

"You’re all shy and innocent in class, doll." he continues, his voice dripping with arrogance. "But when you're spread out for me, you can’t stop begging for it, huh?"

His words are teasing, cruel in a way that makes your pulse quicken, but there’s something magnetic in the way he says it. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and it’s infuriating. You try to sit up, but he pushes you back down gently, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before trailing his mouth back up toward your sensitive core.

"What’s the rush, doll, hm?" he purrs, eyes locked on yours, completely unbothered. "I’m not done with you yet. I’m still…hungry."

You can feel him smirking against your skin as he slides a finger through your slickness, deliberately slow, watching your reaction. "Look at you, doll." he drawls, clearly enjoying every second of your helplessness. "Already soaked again. Guess I’m pretty good at this, huh?"

You grit your teeth, trying not to give him the satisfaction of another moan, but your body betrays you, heat pooling in your stomach again. His finger teases you mercilessly, sliding just barely inside before pulling away, leaving you aching for more.

"Come on, just admit it, doll." he coaxes, clearly reveling in your frustration. "You love it when I do this, don't you?" His finger circles your entrance again, maddeningly slow, as he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, doll. Tell me how much you love it."

You want to resist, but the words slip out in a breathless whisper before you can stop them. You mewl in pleasure. "I love it. I love it so much, baby!"

Sukuna chuckles darkly, satisfied. "That’s my bestest girl, hm?”

[sneppu]

The Reasons Why Severus Snape is Secretly a Cat, Actually.

I'm saying he's a neglected and abused stray little black cat and here is why

He's very meow meow. VERY kitten.

Black cats are vilified and assumed by some to be evil. Coincidentally, both of these things happen to Snape as well.

Difficult to befriend. Cats are already picky about who they like, and Cats who have had it rough are even more difficult. One cannot just waltz up to a cat like that expect friendliness, or even indifference for that matter.

Extremely bad, no good, very bad luck with dogs. Seriously, the man MUST have dog trauma by now. Werewolves? Sirius, one of his biggest haters and tormentors, a dog animagus? even Fluffy mauling his leg?? The first two were marauders, yes, but that's not a good thing when it comes to Snape. (not all dogs and cats dont get along, but its certainly interesting. Personally, I headcanon him as a definite cat person who has a bad associations with dogs but thats a whole other post.)

Very hissy and snarly and unpleasant when threatened - and sometimes, even when YOU think there's no apparent threat! This is premium Gato™ Behavior. An abused little shelter cat, horribly unsocialized, becoming hyper defensive anytime anything happens to him, even if the thing that is happening is kind.

it fits with the idea that hes "mean for no reason" because there IS a reason - cats are complicated little guys! Where you see a nonissue, He might see a threat. Where you see kindness, he might see mockery. Where you see playfulness he might see cruelty, and so on. After all, he's been on the receiving end of it all too often.

Cats like this usually end up stuck in shelters - not a home - because no one will take them. They're too offputting, they're too mean, they're too much trouble. One could argue that Hogwarts itself IS that shelter in this scenario; a place to be, but not a home. Not really.

Worth noting: maybe to Harry, Hogwarts can be considered a sort-of Home, but he actually found kindness and friends there. Severus lost his only friend and was tormented there. Better than his incredibly shitty situation with his family? Certainly! but Shelters often are.

SWM fits as well; A moment of extreme distress from being humiliated, afraid, and overwhelmed? all those jeering laughing faces while he is vulnerable and unsafe, defenseless at the hands of people who have continuously hurt him for years?? and to see and know that his friend - his BEST friend - the only friend; the only PERSON, he has, is there holding back a smile as it is happening too? Have you ever met a cat in distress? of course he lashed out. It's honestly astounding that he didnt lash out MORE.

and while on the subject of SWM, him lashing out at Lily applies here too. A cornered, distressed cat (especially one with a history of abuse) sees everything as a threat , even people it is normally friendly to, if it's distressed enough. Have you tried to bathe a cat? or maybe tried to coax one to get into a cat carrier for the vet? these things are very difficult but manageable at the best of times but "vulnerable, afraid, humiliated, and threatened" are NOT the best of times, I fear.

it even works with his occlumency and the way he deals with vulnerability as well. Cats, when in pain, do their best to hide that pain. This is because to be outwardly hurt is to be vulnerable, and that can lead to predation by bigger animals. Severus too, hides his vulnerability. The things that truly matter to him, his worries, his soft and squishy bits, and loyalties all carefully locked away.

Rivalry with Minerva?? that's just good ol' unserious cat drama. Have u ever seen an indoor cat staring down a stray through the window? silly little creatures. They'll grumble about it and act like its on sight (and maybe it is!) but when you're not looking, there'll be sniffing through the glass and pretending they dont care while they nap suspiciously close by.

Starved for affection and touch. An abused stray, past all the hissing and the fear and violence, once they're finally given a chance and finally understand that they are safe, just wants to be loved. They usually end up being the most affectionate and loyal cats of all! only to those they feel safe with, of course.

And speaking of loyalty, that applies here too. He was loyal to Lily, the first and only person to show him kindness (though my feelings for her are very complicated) and he was later loyal to Dumbledore. Unfortunately, neither of these people ever truly took in the stray, not really. And so the Stray was never actually socialized, and never completely safe, and never actually given a home.

and finally.. his death. Cats have a tendency to hide when nearing death, or dying.. and as such, often die in solitude. Severus may not have exactly had a direct hand in this of course, but.. there's something about him dying in this shitty little shack, far away from the action, presumably alone (or so he thought until Harry and his friends materialized out of nowhere under the cloak.). He wasn't actually alone in his actual final moments, but in the time leading up to it? Very lonely.

In a way, one could say that Lily came closest to adopting the stray Sev cat. And maybe she would have! maybe she wanted to take in the stray at one point - had planned to, even! But her friends told her he was dirty and gross, "who knows where that things been! he's probably diseased". and The marauders kept tormenting him, making him increasingly defensive and hissy and violent, as cats often are in that situation and then it was also "look how cruel and mean he is! he'll only hurt you". and maybe when the time finally came and that defensiveness finally WAS aimed at her it only confirmed what she had already begun to believe. And then she decided she wasnt a cat person after all. Who knows? One could make an argument for all of that. Do i see things that way? maybe, maybe not. My feelings toward every character who is not Snape are largely indifferent for the most part.

Verdict: Severus Snape is a Cat. He is a little kitten meow meow. Give this man a little cauldron to curl up in asap

[0omillo0]

Keep it secret | Jeongin x Reader

Even tho your relationship is secret, Jeongin asks you to come with him at the milano fashion week. You have to try your best to perfectly fake being a manager.

a/n: you can tell I LOVE fashion shows!

⋆ ˚｡♡𝜗𝜚˚

The chaos of fashion week was palpable from the moment you touched down in Milan. The air buzzed with anticipation, a hum of energy that clung to the cobbled streets, and the world’s finest designers and most iconic models seemed to glide over it effortlessly. You had to remind yourself to keep your cool, though it was easier said than done when you were walking into one of the biggest events of the year — the Bottega Veneta fashion show. Not as an ordinary attendee, though. No, this time, you were walking into it as the secret girlfriend of Yang Jeongin.

Jeongin, with his signature charm and confident smile, was as much a part of the event as the models, yet your heart still fluttered when you saw him, even after months of keeping your relationship under wraps. Every stolen glance, every subtle touch shared away from the limelight, had built an intimacy that you treasured, but hiding it was becoming increasingly difficult. Especially now.

You could still hear his soft voice from this morning in your head. He had smiled at you over the breakfast table, his eyes dancing with mischief, as he casually dropped the bomb.

“I want you to come with me,” he had said, his lips quirking into a smile.

“To Milan?” you had asked, nearly choking on your coffee.

“To the Bottega Veneta show at fashion week. I’ll get you in as a manager, and no one will suspect a thing.” His eyes twinkled with excitement, but you knew better. The man could have been a professional poker player with how well he masked his emotions in public, but you could tell by the way his fingers had tapped the table lightly that he was nervous.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you there — quite the opposite. He wanted nothing more than to walk arm in arm with you, to show the world that you were his. But, as one of the rising stars in the K-pop scene, there were pressures and expectations, fans and media that scrutinized every single move.

You had agreed, of course, but as you sat in the limousine that was slowly crawling toward the venue, the gravity of the situation weighed down on you. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest. Jeongin sat across from you, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his hair styled to perfection, his features sharp and striking. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he looked like he belonged at these events, while you, draped in an elegant dress that he’d handpicked for you, felt like an imposter.

“You look stunning,” he said softly, as though reading your mind.

You blushed, glancing out the window to avoid his gaze. “Don’t say that. You’ll make it harder for me to act like your manager.”

His chuckle was low, barely audible, but it warmed you nonetheless. He leaned in, his fingers brushing yours ever so slightly. The gesture was small, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll do great,” he whispered. “Just… don’t let them catch us.”

---

The fashion show was a dazzling blur of lights, music, and beautifully crafted designs. The moment you stepped onto the plush carpet leading into the venue, cameras flashed in every direction, capturing every movement of the celebrities and fashion icons in attendance. You kept your distance from Jeongin, trailing behind as any good manager would, though your heart tugged with every step that separated you.

Every now and then, you felt his eyes on you — a fleeting glance here, a brief brush of hands there — all while pretending you were nothing more than a member of his team. He greeted the designers, smiled for the cameras, and even posed with a few celebrities, his face lighting up in that way only he could manage.

You tried to focus on your role, to blend into the background as you observed the crowd. But every time your fingers accidentally brushed against his, or your shoulders bumped as you navigated the tight spaces, a spark ignited. It was intoxicating, the way the most innocent of touches held so much weight. The world may not have known, but between the two of you, every glance, every whisper was charged with a secret.

At one point during the show, when the lights dimmed for a brief intermission, Jeongin leaned over. His voice was barely a murmur, his lips just inches from your ear. “You’re handling this better than I thought.”

You smiled, trying to suppress the warmth that spread across your cheeks. “You’re not making it easy.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. But I can’t help it.”

The fabric of his hand brushed against yours once again, but before either of you could react, a photographer’s flash went off close by, reminding you both of where you were. Jeongin quickly pulled back, his expression shifting into one of professionalism as if the moment had never happened.

But it had, and you felt the lingering effect long after.

---

The after-party was another test in patience. The music was loud, the champagne flowing freely as models and designers mingled with guests in an opulent ballroom that overlooked the city. Jeongin had kept his distance for most of the evening, busy making the rounds and schmoozing with industry insiders. Every now and then, he would send you a discreet smile or a playful wink, but it was never more than that.

You couldn’t wait for the night to be over. The tension between you two was almost unbearable, a tight string that threatened to snap at any moment. And when it finally did, it wasn’t in the way you expected.

As the party began to wind down and people started to trickle out, Jeongin found his way back to you. His hand grazed yours briefly before pulling back, a reminder that you still had to be careful. "Ready to leave?" he asked quietly, his eyes scanning the room.

"More than ready," you replied, your voice barely audible over the music.

Together, you slipped out of the venue, avoiding the main exit where paparazzi were camped out, waiting for a glimpse of any celebrity they could get. Instead, you followed Jeongin through a quieter side exit, where a limousine was waiting. The driver opened the door for you both, and as soon as it shut behind you, the pretense of professionalism dissolved.

The moment you were out of sight, Jeongin’s hand found yours again, but this time he didn’t pull away. His fingers intertwined with yours, and he let out a sigh, his body relaxing into the seat.

“That was torture,” he admitted, turning to face you.

You laughed, leaning your head against the back of the seat. “You’re telling me. I think I nearly forgot how to breathe back there.”

He smiled, his eyes softening as they roamed your face. “But you did amazing.”

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you teased, though your voice was softer now, more intimate.

Jeongin shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, his hand now resting fully on your thigh. “I hated every second of pretending you weren’t mine,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and before you knew it, you were leaning in, closing the distance between you. The kiss was soft at first, slow, like the two of you were still testing the waters even though you had kissed a hundred times before. But it didn’t stay that way for long.

The tension that had built up throughout the night — the stolen glances, the brief touches, the whispered words — all came crashing down as your lips met his. The kiss deepened, your hands sliding up his chest and into his hair, pulling him closer. Jeongin groaned softly against your lips, his hands slipping to your waist as he tugged you into him.

The limousine felt smaller by the second as you struggled to get as close to him as possible, the weight of the evening melting away with every kiss, every touch. His hand slid up the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips never leaving yours.

“I missed this,” he murmured between kisses, his voice breathless. “Missed you.”

You smiled against his lips. “We were together all night.”

“Not like this,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against your jaw as he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“No,” you agreed softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Not like this.”

For a few moments, neither of you said anything, just held each other close, basking in the warmth of the moment. The city lights outside flickered by, casting fleeting shadows across the inside of the limo, but in this space — in this quiet, stolen moment — it felt like you were the only two people in the world.

As the car rolled on through the streets of Milan, Jeongin’s arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead. "One day," he murmured against your skin, his voice barely a whisper. "One day, we won’t have to hide anymore."

You smiled, closing your eyes and sinking into his embrace, content with the secret world you had carved out for yourselves, even if just for tonight.

"One day…" you whispered back.

[trulyumai]

belittling the reign

synopsis: the people began to doubt Geta, and in return, so did members of the senate. The emperor began to act wildly, his temper just a reach away. It all came crashing down when a man of the senate brought the empress up and how she would fall with the emperor.

pairing: Emperor geta / empress! reader

Warnings: Violence, anger, choking, death. Protectiveness/Possessive.

The room was dim, save for the flicker of torchlight dancing across the stone walls. Geta sat at the long table, his goblet half-full, eyes fixed on the dull gleam of his dagger. He had been deep in thought, tired from the endless political maneuvering of the Senate, when the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted his silence.

The door creaked open, and a figure entered—Marcus, a senator known for his sharp tongue and sharper ambitions. Geta didn’t look up as the man approached, choosing instead to swirl the dark wine in his cup.

“Geta,” Marcus began, his voice oozing with false politeness. “I trust you’re well this evening.”

Geta grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disdain. He knew this man all too well—his visits were never without some form of scheming. Marcus circled the room slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of the table as he moved closer.

“You know, it’s funny,” Marcus continued, his tone casual, though laced with something more sinister. “There’s been a lot of talk in the streets lately. The citizens are starting to wonder how much longer Rome will have to bear the burden of a violent ruler.” The man let out a chuckle, it reverberated through the room and Geta swore his fingers shook with an emitting anger.

The emperor’s eyes flicked upward for the first time, meeting Marcus’s gaze with a steely intensity. The senator smiled, a smirk dancing on his lips as he leaned against the table, arms crossed.

“They say,” Marcus went on, “that there will soon be a new emperor. A man who leads not with blood, but with wisdom. One who doesn’t lose himself to rage every time a senator dares to speak out. The people... they’re excited, Geta. They’re waiting for the day Rome is free of your wrath… Maybe Caracalla would be a better fit?”

Geta’s grip tightened on the goblet, the muscles in his arm tensing as he fought to contain his growing anger. “You tread on dangerous ground, Marcus,” he warned, his voice low and cold.

Breath in. Breath out. Remember your wife, the sweet laugh, those little dimples that littered your face when he told a good story.

But Marcus was undeterred. He leaned in closer, his breath hot and smug as he whispered, “Perhaps you’re the one who should be careful. People don’t fear you anymore, Geta. They’re waiting for your death. And when it comes, oh how they’ll cheer. Finally, a ruler worthy of the Empire will take your place.”

A dark laugh escaped Marcus’s lips, but it was quickly cut off by Geta’s sudden movement. In a flash, the emperor had risen from his seat, standing tall over the senator. Marcus stiffened, but continued, confidence seemed to block the mans rational fears. “What will your pretty little wife do when you’re gone, I wonder? Maybe she’ll find solace in someone with real power.”

That was the last mistake.

Geta’s fury ignited like a wildfire, burning through every shred of control he had left. Before Marcus could react, Geta’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around the man’s throat. The senator’s eyes widened in shock as he gasped for breath, his hands clawing uselessly at Geta’s iron grip.

“You dare threaten my wife?” Geta growled, his voice trembling with rage. His face was twisted in a snarl, the veins in his neck bulging as he squeezed tighter. “You think you can speak to me of death? Speak to me of weakness?” He spat the words with venom, his grip tightening as Marcus’s face turned pale, then purple.

The senator’s eyes bulged, and his mouth opened and closed in silent pleas for mercy, but Geta’s rage was far beyond words now. He lifted Marcus off the ground, the senator’s feet dangling as he struggled weakly. The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls as Geta’s expression darkened with each passing second.

“You thought you could replace me? With my own brother?!” Geta whispered, leaning in close to the dying man’s ear. “There will be no one else, dear Marcus.  I am Rome, hm? I. Am. Rome.”

Marcus’s body jerked one last time, and then he went still. Geta held him there for a moment longer, the senator’s lifeless eyes staring into nothingness, before finally letting the body fall to the ground with a heavy thud.

The room was silent, save for the sound of Geta’s ragged breathing. He stood over Marcus’s corpse, his chest rising and falling with the aftershocks of his rage. Slowly, he lowered his hand, twisting and turning the jeweled rings around his fingers while wiping the sweat from his brow. His gaze dropped to the dead man at his feet, his heart still pounding in his chest, though calmer now.

A twisted calm, one born of violence.

“Threatening my liege. My Wife,” Geta muttered to himself, stepping over Marcus’s body as he made his way toward the door. “They will all burn before I leave the throne.”

-

The hallways were dimly lit, the flickering flames of the torches casting long, distorted shadows along the stone walls. Geta’s breathing was still ragged, his pulse pounding in his ears as he moved through the empty corridors. His hands, still tingling with the memory of squeezing the life out of Marcus, twitched at his sides. Sweat clung to his brow, slicking his skin and making his tunic stick to his chest.

He could feel the weight of what he had done. The senator’s limp body, the satisfaction that had come when his struggles ceased. It was a different kind of battle—one where no soldier could see him, and no one could speak of it.

Yet, the thrill of victory felt different this time. It wasn’t the fight he was used to. He wasn’t on the battlefield, brandishing his sword, earning the respect of his men. This victory had been personal, quiet... but more satisfying than he could have imagined. Marcus had been wrong—there would be no new ruler. Not while Geta breathed.

He thought of the senators who whispered behind closed doors, plotting to strip him of his power. He thought of the citizens who questioned his rule, who had dared to entertain the idea of another emperor, a more peaceful one. And now he thought of those who might still move against him. They had made one fatal error—they underestimated his resolve, his willingness to do whatever was necessary to protect what was his. He had been lenient for too long.

His footsteps echoed in the silence as he neared the door to his chambers. The weight of his actions, the violence he was still capable of, burned beneath his skin, but as he pushed open the heavy wooden door, the tension seemed to soften.

There, lying in the massive bed, was his wife—your form draped in blankets, the soft rise and fall of your chest showing the example of a  peaceful slumber. You were so..  completely unaware of what he had just done, unaware of the thoughts that now consumed him.

Geta stood in the doorway for a moment, simply watching. His wife had been the one constant in his life, the anchor to his rage. You had calmed him when no one else could. 

His breath still came in short bursts, his chest tight with the remnants of his fury. Slowly, he approached the bed, his legs heavy beneath him as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with him. He collapsed beside you, the bed creaking under his weight. He was slick with sweat, the heat of the earlier confrontation still radiating from his body. He exhaled deeply, his muscles sagging as he sunk into the mattress.

His wife stirred slightly, your hand brushing against his arm as she mumbled something incoherent in sleep. Your touch was soft, gentle—so unlike the violence that had consumed him only moments before. For a moment, Geta considered waking you, telling just what had transpired, but no. You didn’t need to know about the bloodshed, the threat to their life. You didn’t need to carry the burden of his thoughts.

But in the stillness of the night, with his wife sleeping so peacefully beside him, his mind churned with plans. He would not be overthrown. He would not be replaced by anyone who dared to dream of ruling Rome in his stead. Geta would seek out the usurpers, one by one. He would find every senator, every noble, every conspirator who dared question his rule, and he would deal with them the same way he dealt with Marcus. There would be no mercy.

His wife shifted again, pressing closer to him, your hand now resting on his chest, and for a brief moment, the thoughts of violence faded. He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her warmth, the way your perfect body curved against his.

But even as his breath steadied and exhaustion began to pull him into sleep, one thought remained clear in his mind: no one would threaten his reign. No one would ever threaten you again.

And when the time came to deal with the rest of them, Geta knew, deep down, he would not hesitate. Rome was his. And he would destroy anyone who thought otherwise.

[thespianinthebackcorner]

Y'know I didn't really get the appeal of sonadow and then..well. Hardly two seasons into sonic prime and I'm already laughing about how fucking gay Shadow is acting. What do you mean you've been following this man and calling out his name every time you can see him just to have a chance of following him through worlds. What do you mean you've been relentlessly trying to stop him from going between worlds just so that you can talk to him and beat him up. If the face he made when he had to admit they had to work together wasn't enough Shadow's entire side of things makes him look so down bad

[hugejk]

2 years.

due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3

cw: addiction mentioned, rehab

||_________________||

After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.

you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.

“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”

the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.

You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,

“my flight got rescheduled for today.”

“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”

“my parents have a room for me at their place.”

heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.

as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.

“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”

the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.

fuck.

“…do you want a picture?…”

you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.

you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.

“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“

he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.

“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”

you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.

“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”

the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.

“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”

you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.

now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.

you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,

“what’s this all about?”

“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”

that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?

But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.

you open the door and walk up to the front desk,

“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”

you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.

“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”

crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.

You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.

||_____________________||

tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr

[lil-gae-disaster]

This takes place before they get together btw! :3

Also inspiration for this was the message I put in the discord chat yesterday evening because those gay guys are eating my brain

[ @hamalicious-soup @papers-pamphlet @paradox-complex @imobsessedwiththeatre @schnitzelsemmerl @cacaobeans ]

"Truly, Sir, I do not see the necessity of such services when I am well able to do such on my own." Such words were uttered with a laugh by none other than Jonathan Smith, who had the- ill?- fortune of sharing a tent with one peculiar Frederick Kenneth.

The reason for such protests was quite simple; Frederick had insisted on tying his tentmates cravat ever since he had done so once during their shared winter and Jonathans fingers had been too stiff by the cold to do such mundane task for himself. The blond man- of schottish heritage if he had guessed the accents origin right- had offered his services when he had seen the Englishman struggle.

Not only had Frederick been aiding Jonathan with his quite long hair, now he had been insisting on tying the mans cravat for months now, as it was late spring and nearing summer, he had no such necessity for such generous services. And yet, his protests were not genuine.

Such acts made the blue eyed man look at him, genuinely look at him, and Jonathan found he thrived under such given attention.

"Why, I do enjoy such tasks. They are of repetitive nature, much unlike a lot of things in life." Frederick begun to explain. "Such motions are calming, unlike life itself. I find enjoyment in them." He continued while his hands were expertedly repeating such motions, which he had yet to do on himself.

Thus, leaving part of his lightly freckled neck revealed.

Jonathan found fascination in the man before him, especially in the pattern that decorate his cheeks and nose, and now apparently also his neck, but by far lighter than the clear spots of stars on this mans handsome face.

"Much like blacksmithing, I suppose. The motion with the tools are repeated ones. And yet, they bring different results." Jonathan added as Frederick was pulling at the cravat to make it appear as orderly and proper as possible.

Frederick nodded in agreement, but did not add anything further on the topic of blacksmithing, instead opting to speak of his own profession. "You are right, but I had thought more of sewing. The motions are repeated, I cannot switch to another kind of stitch halfway through sewing two pieces of fabric together, and result in similar and yet different works." He said while he was loosening the cravat where it was too tight for Jonathan without the latter having to tell him.

This was what Jonathan appreciated about his tentmate; the slow mornings and the small acts of kindness that have proven to be just as pleasant for Frederick as they are for Jonathan. And such mundane discussions of life and their professions, as if they are two young men, yet unexperienced of life, talking greatly of how they would spend their lives doing what they enjoyed.

It was bizarre for him. Not even a decade ago, he was trapped under his father and fiancé, but now he is here, free, with a profession his family would have never approved of, and in the presence of another man doing tasks that might belong to a housewife. But Jonathan found himself opposing little to none of this arrangement.

Frederick seems to be satisfied with Jonathans cravat now and has taken to straighten his coat, his deep blue eyes never leaving the other man, his lip between his teeth in concentration. "Sir, I would like to ask of you to cease such abuse of your lips for we are provided with enough food for you to not need to eat them." Jonathan asked his tentmate in good humor and genuine concern. Said man let loose of his lip, which is already quite rough to look at, but the Englishman can tell the other mans teeth have not ceased to bite.

Frederick has finished nitpicking everything about Jonathans attire, accompanied with mutters of what he should seek to repair with his own thread and needle he took with him when he had joined, and looked Jonathan in the eyes with his intense gaze.

Oh lord how had Jonathan just wanted to reach to cradle this mans face, to hold all the intense emotions he may portray in his hands and to trace the star-filled nightsky this man was bearing on his face.

He wanted to run his fingers through this mans near golden mess of curls and hair. He wanted to tell him how much he meant to Jonathan and how much he would loathe should Frederick perish in battle or fall victim to the harsh winters.

He wished to make Frederick understand just how dearly he is regarded by many, but mostly he wished to tell Frederick how he felt, he wanted to pour his heart out while gazing into the intense and endless blue that seemed to be this mans eyes. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs just how dearly he regards Frederick, how much this mans existence has kept him afloat when should he be sinking instead.

Frederick is the embodiment of sunshine, and Jonathan is the plants that need such to survive.

Jonathan does not know for how long he was lost in the other mans eternal blue, but he gets thrown out of the daze he finds himself in by Frederick breaking the eye contact, excused with a mutter of "I should move to get ready."

Jonathan nods in agreement, but he stays put. He feels he would leave a part of himself behind in this tent should he leave without his friend. This seems to not bother Frederick, for he is too busy searching his coat and cravat.

Once he had found such- his coat had been hiding under their shared cot and his cravat had made itself a home under Fredericks pillow- he hastily put them on and made a move to leave, but Jonathan halted him.

The blond man looked at him intensely with his eyes reflecting pure confusion. Jonathan said nothing, instead he moved to straighten Fredericks cravat and coat, much like the other man did with him. Perhaps it was just an action of camaraderie between them without any other intentions.

Jonathan did not achieve such a flawless result as Frederick, but yet as he stepped back to allow the man to have his space yet again, Jonathan discovered Frederick watching him wordlessly with a slight rose tint on his cheeks, unable to be hidden by the countless freckles that adored the mans face and seemed to add individuality to the universally human reaction of flattery and care.

Jonathan smiled and it took a great amount of restraint to not let any adoration he may hold for the man show in his eyes.

It seems he should not have reason to worry, since Fredericks only reaction was a darker flush of his cheeks and a hurried exit out of the tent.

Jonathan sighed. What was this game of feelings and friendships they were playing?

The Englishman did not ponder on such further and instead opted to follow his tentmate in a hurry to greet the new day they should be thankful for getting to experience, since death seems inevitable in such times where war is looming over them all, threatening to take their life every moment they spend on the battlefield.

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[123-im-writing-lol]

A lesson learned

Word count: around 4.2k YAY :D

Tw: afab reader being referred to as “woman” “good girl” etc. Meandom!matt, soft!matt at the end, brattyvigilante!reader, pet names, impact play (spanking, pussy slapping), degradation, unprotected p in v, cumming inside, praise, forced submission?, reader has daddy issues, lowkey emotionally stunted reader, possibly autistic reader (this is me we’re talking about), daddy kink, subspace, aftercare <- none of the things listed is in order :/

*****************************

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

It was supposed to be a simple mission; sneak in, get the book, and sneak back out. It wasn’t supposed to be whatever the hell this is.

A shitshow, would probably be the best way to put it.

“Sneaking” back out became running and fighting for your life against who knows how many armed men were guarding the building.

You shouldn’t have gone in alone, but you wanted to prove him wrong. He always underestimates you, thinks you can’t handle stuff. You can handle stuff! He just won’t let you! Daredevil. Or rather your boyfriend, Matt Murdock. Says he just wants you to be safe, but he takes things too far! He practically babies you as if you aren’t a fully capable person. He isn’t the only one that’s been doing this vigilante stuff for years.

Tonight was just… a slip up. Your head wasn’t in the right place, no big deal! It’s not your fault his voice was in the back of your mind reminding you to wait for him, only further goading you into doing otherwise. You dont need to wait for him, you’ve got this.

But again, it turned out that you didn’t have this. Not when there’s a gun pointed at your head. If it wasn’t for Daredevil showing up and chucking his billy club at the guys head, knocking him unconscious, you’d be dead.

Your body visibly sags with relief when the assailant goes down, but your relief doesn’t last long when your gaze shifts to your savior. Shoulders taut, chest heaving, fists clenched… he’s pissed. It’s understandable, given the fact that you did exactly what he said not to do and almost ended up in an early grave.

Silence stretches between the two of you for longer than you were comfortable with, only the sound of your panting echoing in the dingy room can be heard. You weren’t sure if you should speak, wondering if it’d anger the man before you even more.

“…we should probably get outta here–“

“You didn’t listen.”

More silence.

“…what-?”

“You didn’t. Listen.” He repeats himself, slowly turning to face you. Normally the sight of him in his getup gets you going, but in this moment you can’t help but feel pity for any of the criminals that cross him. The broken lights overhead cast an eerie shadow around him, emphasizing the little horns on his head.

“…we don’t have time for this, we need to leave–“

It takes him a mere two seconds to cross the distance between you two, towering over you with his lips curled up in a snarl.

“You didn’t fucking listen to me. I told you to wait, to let me help you, and what do you do? You deliberately disobey me!”

He’s so close you can feel his breath on your face, hot and heavy. Despite his intimidating demeanor, his words cause a flicker of anger to rise within you. Who does he think he is?

“Disobey you?! Who are you, my father? I’m a grown woman, D!”

“I might as well be, given how you’re acting like a petulant child that doesn’t know how to do what she’s told!”

Clenching your jaw you shoot him the hardest glare you can muster. “You know what? Screw you.” Turning and making your way to the exit you fling the door open, intent on leaving him behind. If he wants to be an asshole then he can be an asshole, just not around you.

Immediately the autumn chill lingering in the night air nips at any exposed skin, causing goosebumps to break out across your body. You ignore the shiver that runs through you, starting the trek home.

Normally you and Matt would use this time to talk, flirting or bantering with each other before going your separate ways. But not tonight, you don’t even want to look at him.

*****************************

Climbing in through your window you sigh heavily, ready for tonight to be over. The warm air of your apartment greets you like a hug, allowing you to relax just a little bit. You’ve just barely managed to take off your boots when you’re forced up against the closest wall. Your hands instinctively go to defend yourself, assuming someone’s here to hurt you, only for you to stop in your tracks when your eyes scan the familiar figure holding you there.

“Ugh-! What the hell?!”

His forearm presses firmly into your collar bones, rendering you unable to move. Before you can say anything more your lips are being smothered by his, the action catching you off guard.

“Mmph-!”

The kiss is rough and clumsy, teeth clashing and saliva smearing across your mouths. You’re usually not happy with unexpected kisses, even on a good day. You manage to roughly shove him back, putting some distance between you two.

“Get off of me! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me? Take a wild fucking guess sweetheart.” He spits sarcastically, reaching up and yanking his helmet off before tossing it aside. He steps closer, finger pointed in your face. “I told you not to–“

Smacking his hand away, you cut him off. “Don’t lecture me–“ but just as you did to him, he doesn’t allow you to finish.

“Be quiet. For once in your goddamn life just listen to me.” His voice is firm, demanding even, enough to render you silent. Nostrils flaring, you stare up at him expectantly.

Seemingly satisfied by your cooperation, he continues. “…I told you not to go in there alone. I told you to wait for me. I told you to be smart. You almost died. Do you hear me? He was going to kill you, and if I hadn’t been there-“ He can’t bring himself to say the words, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth.

“Okay yeah, fine, you saved me and I was stupid for going in alone. Is that what you wanna hear?!”

“Ugh, it isn’t about what I want to hear! It’s about you doing exactly what I told you not to do and endangering yourself in the process!” He argues. You don’t respond, unsure of what to say. He is right… kind of, but it’s still his fault. Plus he doesn’t need to be so rude about it…

As if sensing he isn’t getting anywhere with you he straightens his posture, a blank look crossing his face. “…get undressed.”

…You’re absolutely baffled. Maybe you heard him wrong.

“…what-?”

“Get. Undressed.” He repeats, voice steady and leaving no room for argument. You know what he’s doing. He’s going to use sex to break you down, get you to agree with him, admit you’re wrong, but that isn’t gonna happen. You’re stubborn by nature, and when you’re frustrated it only increases tenfold.

Still… it’s been too long since you’ve slept together, and the idea of what he has in store is enough for a flicker of excitement to stir in your tummy. Okay, maybe you will have sex, but you won’t agree with him. In fact, you’re gonna make things harder for him.

With a newfound confidence you say those two words that have become a staple in the bedroom, the two words that always set the mood for what’s in store.

“…Make me.”

For a moment he doesn’t react, his sightless eyes staring in your general direction. He then nods, his demeanor calm and composed. A mere second later you’re being tossed over his shoulder, a startled gasp being ripped from your throat.

“Matt-! Put me down!” You demand, kicking your legs and pounding your fists against his back, your head beginning to spin from the awkward angle.

Smack!

You jolt, body frozen with shock as it registers the stinging sensation on the back of your thigh. It hurt. Hurt more than usual, enough to keep you quiet.

Matt’s no stranger to your less than obedient nature. He’s a patient man, using soft words and gentle caresses to ease you into being good. At least, that’s how it usually goes. Tonight’s different. He’s fed up, and he’s through with being patient.

He drops you onto your mattress, an undignified “oof!” getting knocked out of you. He then lowers himself to sit next to you, casually pulling you over his lap. Immediately sensing his intentions you begin to squirm, your face flushing. But his hold is firm, you’re not going anywhere.

You wouldn’t even be able to count on your hands the amount of times he’s had you pulled over his lap. It’s one of your shared favorites regarding bedroom fun. Though right now you know it’s going to be anything but.

The deep rumble of his voice causes you to stop squirming. “Here’s how this is going to work. You seem intent on being a disobedient brat, so I’m going to treat you like one. The more you struggle, the more I hurt you. Do you understand?”

Huffing indignantly, you decide not to respond… that is, until he lands a harsh slap to your bottom.

“I said, do you understand?” To your dismay, the thickness of your pants don’t do much to lessen the sting.

“Yes!” You snap, annoyance clear as day. That’s okay, Matt knows you’ll be a whining mess soon.

“Good girl.” Embarrassingly enough, the praise causes your heart to flutter, just as it always does. Despite being angry with you, and wanting to punish you, you’re still his baby at the end of the day.

Hands gripping the waistband of your bottoms as well as your underwear, he begins to shimmy them downward, just enough to expose your ass to him. Your face feels impossibly hot and he’s only just begun.

He begins to massage your asscheeks, squeezing the flesh in his large, calloused hands. “I tried to make this easier, you know. Told you to get naked for a reason. I was gonna bend you over my lap either way, but if you did as you were told you at least would’ve been more comfortable.” He states, a hint of condescension in his usually kind voice.

Of course. Shooting him a nasty side eye, you stay quiet. He’s dragging this out for a reason, trying to build up your anticipation. Safe to say it’s working. Heart hammering against your ribcage, you inhale a shaky breath through your nose and wait. And wait. And wait.

…smack!

The first hit has you inhaling sharply, fingers digging into the bedsheet. He’s not going to hold back. He doesn’t even bother to soothe the sting like he usually does, instead he begins to speak.

“…I care a lot about you. You know that, right?” When you don’t respond he lands another harsh smack.

“Agh-! Yes!”

“I’m glad, but I have to admit sweetheart, I’m a little confused. If you know how much I care about you, how much I love you, then why would you go and do a stupid thing like that, huh?”

Smack!

Ignoring your whimper, he continues. “The only thing I can come up with is that you don’t care. I mean, if you did care then you wouldn’t have risked your life when you didn’t need to. When you could’ve asked for my help. When you could’ve waited for me like the good girl I know you can be.” He lands three consecutive smacks to your sensitive skin, alternating between both cheeks. Fuck, you’re so turned on right now. You need him bad, and it’s obvious he needs you. You can feel his boner pressing into your side even through the thickness of his suit, proof of how much your pained cries affect him.

“Honestly angel, I’m disappointed…”

His words sting almost as much as your butt, really hitting you where it hurts. Maybe it’s the daddy issues, but you don’t like disappointing him, you like making him proud! Okay, so maybe it was selfish to do the mission alone…

His words combined with the way he’s gently massaging your skin have you debating if you should apologize. Your stomach is churning with a mix of guilt and a regret. What if you had died? It would’ve hurt him so much, especially given how many people he’s already lost…

Matt senses the slight shift in your mood, figuring you’re finally starting to understand what he’s trying to say. He can’t lose you.

But he’s still angry, and you still haven’t been taught a lesson, so you’re in for a rough night. “…you’re going to count every time I spank this pretty ass. You’re going to count, and you’re going to say you’re sorry.” He explains, as controlled as ever.

“And if I don’t?” You can’t help but snark, earning you a humorless chuckle.

“Then you aren’t going to cum.” The statement is followed by the crisp sound of his palm striking your bottom. Gritting your teeth, you try to ignore the pain blooming across your skin.

“One… sorry.”

He tsks. “Oh sweetheart, you can do better than that. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it sounds like you don’t mean it.”

“Yeah, that’s because I don’t.”

He smirks, confident in his next words. “That’s okay, you will soon enough...”

*****************************

You end up counting to twenty, each hit landing harder than the last. By the end of it you’re sure your ass is on fire, tears streaming down your face and pitiful whimpers escaping you. If it weren’t for Matt’s firm grip on you, you surely would’ve fallen off of his lap with how much you were twitching.

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard, was it baby?” Matt coos, thumb idly stroking your skin, enjoying the way he can feel the heat radiating off of your flesh. Shaking your head you mutter a pathetic “n-no!” having been worn down by your harsh punishment.

Matt hums thoughtfully, his fingers trailing down to prod at your opening. Your poor neglected pussy is dripping at this point, making a vulgar slick sound as he rubs up and down. His fingertips dip into your heat just enough to scoop out some more of your nectar, using it to rub slow circles against your clit.

“Ha-! Mmm…” You gasp, humming and eyes drooping as you finally get that pleasure you’ve been waiting for.

“Poor thing, need my cock so badly don’t you?” He coos.

You’re quick to nod your head, hope blossoming in your chest.

“Words.”

“Yes! Yes please!”

“Hmm…”

He’s careful in his movements, lifting you up off of him and standing, beginning to undo the zipper on his suit. Your eyes widen at the sight, quickly scrambling to lie on your back with your legs spread. It makes him chuckle.

“So eager, aren’t we?” He asks, pulling his dick out and giving it one long stroke. You can only manage to bite your lip and nod, said eagerness building. He steps closer, grabbing you by the thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. His member is resting between your pussy lips, providing you with some much needed stimulation as he slowly rolls his hips, grinding his head against your clit. You know better than to speak, not wanting to risk giving him another reason to deny you the dick that you crave so badly.

“Yeah, so fucking wet…” He whispers, seemingly to himself. “You like being punished that much?”

“Y-Yes…”

He pulls his hips back, his hand then coming down on your clit and sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“Ha~!”

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it!”

He clicks his tongue, teasing your entrance with the tip.

“I don’t quite believe you, bug…” Disappointment coats his words, causing tears of frustration to well in your eyes. He’s being so mean!

“Please! Please Matty! Want your dick so bad!” Angling your hips you try to pull him in, but your efforts prove fruitless.

“Yeah? You want this?”

You gasp as he pushes forward, sheathing a mere inch inside of you. Your walls flutter once again, desperate to pull him deeper.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you!”

“Tell me you’re gonna be a good girl.”

“I’m gonna be a good g-girl~!”

You cry out, finally getting what you want. He groans, nice and low as he pushes in, opening you up for him and only him.

“Fuck…”

A mere moment later he’s pulling out until only the tip is left inside, then slamming his hips against the back of your thighs as he refills you, tearing a moan from the depths of your chest.

It doesn’t take long for your bedroom to reek of sex, the sound of skin slapping and raunchy moans filling the air. Matt lowers himself on top of you, his lips by your ear.

“God, such a good pussy… so fucking tight…”

You can only cry out in response, sweat beginning to soak your overheated body.

“Just a stupid little girl, thinking she knows best…” He growls angrily, giving you a particularly harsh thrust. Your hands grip onto his back for support, nails digging into the fibers of his suit as he fucks you.

“Oh god! Matt! Matty! Please! It’s so good~!”

“Yeah? You like how I’m fucking you? I know you do. Can feel your greedy little cunt sucking me in, milking my cock.” He’s breathless at this point, the pleasure in his gut beginning to build just as it is in yours. Your needy whimpers and wanton moans turn him on endlessly, bringing him that much closer to the edge. But he won’t cum, not when his lesson isn’t over yet.

“You gonna cum? Yeah?”

He snickers when you nod, clearly desperate.

“Awww, too bad. You’re not gonna cum until I feel you deserve it.”

You go to rub your clit in retaliation but he’s fast, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress beside your head.

“Ah-ah-ah… I don’t think so. You try that again and you won’t be cumming for a week.” You know from past experiences that he’s serious. His thrusts stall, his shaft buried so deep you can feel him in your throat. “Tell you what, you tell me you’re sorry, you mean it, and I’ll let you cum. Does that sound fair?”

Your answer tumbles out of your mouth before you can even process it, hazy mind begging for that orgasm that’s being dangled before you. “Yes-! Yes!”

“Good, then I suggest you get to it, because I’m not gonna last much longer.” He goads, resuming his quick pace. As soon as his hand wraps itself around your throat you’re babbling.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry daddy! M’so sorry! Just wanted to make you proooud~!” Tears are streaming down your face at this point, the pleasure and guilt intertwining to form an addictive concoction.

“Aww, you wanted to make me proud?” He mocks, voice full of faux sympathy. Slowly rolling his hips, the head of his dick grinds against your cervix, rendering your mind gone. All you can focus on is him; the feeling of his hands on your body, the way his cock splits you in half, the grunts that resound in your ear…

Nodding, you whimper pitifully. “Yeah~!”

“But honey, why didn’t you just do what daddy said? You know daddy loves when you’re a good listener.” You can’t tell if the softness he’s showing you is genuine or not; if he’s making fun of you by cooing to you like you’re a child, or if he believes your words and is hoping to provide you some sense of comfort.

“Wanted to be a big girl! Wanted to be brave, and- and show you I could do it!”

He heaves a heavy sigh, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. “I know sweet girl, I know…”

All of a sudden he doubles down, bracing his hands against the mattress as he pounds the life force out of you.

“Come on sweetie, cum for me. Cum for daddy.” The sudden shift in his tone has your heart aching, your throat sore from whimpering and whining as you cling to him even tighter.

Mouth agape, you’re unable to do anything other than obey. With a silent scream that knot in your tummy snaps, causing your pussy to flutter around his cock.

“Ohhhh that’s it, fuck, y’make me so proud baby… such a good girl…” He huffs, moaning lowly into your ear as his release quickly follows yours, painting the walls of your cunt with his seed.

He stays inside, giving you one more pump of his hips in hopes of stuffing his semen deeper, claiming you as his. The both of you twitch from the aftermath of your orgasms, panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

Eventually he pulls out, removing his daredevil suit and heading to the bathroom. He returns a moment later with a wet washcloth and some lotion. Taking his time he gently cleans up the mess of your combined fluids in silence, smiling softly at the way you jolt and whimper at the sensitivity. Once you’re clean he rolls you over, carefully applying lotion to your sore bottom.

“…I really am sorry.” You whisper, swallowing nervously when you feel his hand pause. But you continue. “I wasn’t thinking, wasn’t careful, just wanted to prove I could do it.”

He sighs, setting the lotion aside and climbing into bed next to you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you’re fully capable of doing things on your own, you’re a strong girl.” He reaches down and begins to massage your scalp, a vulnerable look on his face. “Strong, and brave, and smart… I just want you to be safe. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Instead of responding verbally you climb into his lap, hugging him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest and savoring the sound of your heartbeat. You’ve never been the best with words, with comforting people, so you hope your actions are able to make up for that.

“…my butt really hurts.”

A weak attempt at lightening the mood, but it works nonetheless. Matt chuckles, rubbing a hand up and down your back before pressing a kiss to your neck.

“I’m sorry, did I get too carried away?”

You think about it, wondering if he really did get carried away and you forgot to use your safe word, or if you’re just having confusing feelings post sex. You’ve always had difficulties with your emotions, and with noticing things until it’s too late.

“…I don’t think so. I probably should’ve said yellow, but I was too stuck in my head. I don’t think I do good with spankings unless you comfort me.” You explain earnestly.

Matt nods. “Good to know. Thank you for being honest. I should’ve checked in with you, I’m sorry about that.” Guilt laces his words, causing you to jump to assure him.

“It’s fine, I don’t really care.”

He sighs, recognizing the way you attempt to emotionally distance yourself in hopes of pleasing him. “Alright, but it would be fine if you did care too. You can get upset at me just like I can get upset at you… I still love you, and you still love me.” He softly reassures, taking on that borderline fatherly role you’re all too familiar with.

Internally hoping to avoid continuing the conversation regarding negative feelings, you decide to respond with:

“…I really liked when you called me a stupid little girl.”

*****************************

Later that night you’re curled up against Matt’s chest, watching the slow rise and fall of it as he sleeps. Sleeping never came easy to you, so it isn’t uncommon that Matt would fall asleep first. Your eyes scan his features as best as they can in the dark; making out the outline of his nose, the subtle definition on his chest, the bump of his shoulder. He’s pretty… you love him… you feel bad. Darn it, you feel bad. Yes you apologized, but you could’ve sounded more sincere, he poured his heart out to you and you responded like a middle schooler would. You’re tempted to wake him up so you can apologize properly, promise him that you won’t do anything stupid that could risk your life again, promise to in fact be more careful from now on. But that might upset him more. He had a rough night, he must be really tired, and—

“Why’re you still awake sweetheart?”

The familiar sound of his raspy, sleep filled voice sends your heart skipping, a small gasp slipping from between your lips.

“-! Oh, I uh, I’m just… thinking.”

He hums thoughtfully. “…’bout what?”

You subconsciously snuggle closer to him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on his broad chest. “…m’sorry.”

“Sweetheart, you already apologized–“

“But I’m really sorry!” You’re quick to cut him off, needing to get this off of your chest. “I shouldn’t have done it and then when you were talkin’ to me about it I didn’t know how to comfort you so I was sayin’ dumb stuff!”

He sighs at your ramble, reaching a hand up to rub at his sleepy eyes. “Angel it’s okay, I know you aren’t the best with stuff like that. I already forgave you.”

“…I promise to be more careful, and to listen better.”

Shaking his head affectionately, he kisses your forehead, knowing it’s best to just roll with it. “Thank you sweetie.”

“…you’re not mad?” You ask hesitantly, still feeling the need to get reassurance from him. You hate when he’s mad at you…

“No, no baby I promise, daddy’s not mad at you, it’s okay.” He soothes, knowing it’s exactly what you need to hear.

Authors note:

Hopefully tumblr doesn’t hide this fic 🙏 this was so hard guys, you have no idea. This is my longest fic yet and it was so annoying cause why is it so hard to keep writing instead of just ending it? Still, practice :p and yes I did end it shortly because I couldn’t take it anymore and I needed to post it :3

[sxftkxssxs]

Could you pls do something like the mc has autism and how each of the 6 help them if they’re overstimulated ? (Gender neutral pronouns pls) love your work <33

I certainly can! I hope I did this justice!! It means a lot that you love my work anon <3

Asra

He's sooo in tune with MC it's crazy. (I blame their half of his heart.)

Once they notice that MC is starting to get overwhelmed, which is usually right away, they'll usually try to hurry along whatever they're doing to get them out of there.

If the MC needs quiet, he'll usually take them back to the shop. If thats not possible, he'll cup their ears. MC knows he's using magic because whatever sounds they were hearing just fall away.

Faust is their girl!! Her scales are super chilly and feel so silly with how much she wiggles. If they need something to touch she'll happily volunteer!

If MC doesn't want Faust squeezing around them, they can always have Asra's hat or scarf.

Asra understands that sometimes people just need some time alone, so if MC needs that they'll find something to occupy their time.

Julian

He might be a doctor but he's never been the best at coping mechanisms or anything remotely related.

Julian is the man for distractions and running away. So long as MC isn't so overwhelmed they can't run. (he might just try to carry them with him.)

If MC needs a certain scent to ground themselves, he's got his coat! It smells vaguely like a mix of herbs and a bomb of spices.

Julian can only do so much if sound is the issue, he's not got enough practice with magic like Asra. If need be he'll cover your ears or take you somewhere secluded.

He can offer his palm to trace if MC needs something to touch.

If MC needs time alone to decompress, he can go see Mazelinka and Portia. (and maybe get them to team up on some of that magic soup for you)

Nadia

She understands pretty well. Her experience after she woke up was very overwhelming for a time.

She'll try to take you to her tower, away from the noises of the palace. The water makes it sound so peaceful.

She also offers her tower as a place to decompress. Being the Countess, she can't fully disappear. If they need time alone they can absolutely get it there.

If MC truly needs something to touch or work on something with their hands, Nadia does have quite a lot of hair they could braid.

Nadia doesn't have anything on her person to offer to focus on a scent, but she will offer her hood regardless. If the MC focuses enough they can smell the fancy hair products from the palace baths.

Muriel

He might be the absolute best person to go to for this. We all know this man gets overwhelmed with too many people around.

Depending on what they need Muriel and Inanna got them covered!

Muriel will offer his fur coat if they need it. It smells distinctly like myrrh and pine trees.

MC needs something to touch or burry their fingers in? Inanna's got a whooole coat of fur conveniently laying on their lap all of the sudden!

If MC needs to be alone they're in the perfect place. His hut is literally in the forest. He'll just go sit with the chickens while they decompress.

Muriel can't do too much about sound if that's what is overwhelming MC. He'll likely call Asra over if thats the case.

Portia

Her cottage is the most peaceful place around the palace. She'll lead you there if you need to get away from crowds or overwhelming noise.

MC can absolutely pet Pepi if they need! Pepi could act as a motorboat with all the purring action going on.

Portia will wrap MC in her blankets. They smell like fresh laundry and bread.

Being Nadia's Personal Handmaiden, she can't fully disappear from the palace. If you need her, she'll stay as long as she can. If you need space, she'll go back to work with the promise that you come get her or send Pepi if you need her!

Lucio

He's trying his absolute best and that is what matters here.

Lucio's only gotten overwhelmed when he had to literally face his fears and all his mistakes. But he takes the lesson to heart and applies it here.

He doesn't get a chance to react if MC needs something to touch to get themselves grounded again. Melchior and Mercedes got this covered.

Lucio would offer them his cape if he has it on him, it smells like wherever they're adventuring but there's a cologne-y undertone to it.

If sound is the issue, he literally just holds his hands over their ears. Not the most effective but an A for effort Lucio!

If they need time alone he makes a goofy show of going to a random spot some ways away and walking in a circle. Nutcracker style. He won't come back until they're either laughing at him or telling him to cut it out and get back over there.