#trail takers

[maniatothemaxxie]

Also for those wondering, I am a up and coming writer, an up and coming artist, I came from Twitter to extend and explore the places to learn about well… how the internet works. It sounds stupid sure, but hey, I don’t mind it

Also I make books, currently working on a semi-fan fiction novel series called ‘ The Trail Takers’, just wanted to test out to see if things could work for me being an author.

Might probably post it here but depends if things go okay

[brothersgrim]

Help im sad about the undertaker

[parsleypesto]

hot ppl r such a gift 🌟💖🌟💖🌟

[after-witch]

Bus Stop [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Title: Bus Stop [Yandere Geto x Reader]

Synopsis: You’ve escaped from Geto–but for how long?

Word count: 3200ish

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon sex scene, female reader, degradation

Despite everything that has happened to you within the last year, your hands have never shook so much; your breath has never been this ragged, this desperate; your chest has never heaved and pleaded with the most fervent of thoughts: please, please, for the love of everything I used to believe in, answer your door!

It feels like your knuckles will begin to bleed against the wood grain but then, the door opens so swiftly that your hand falls forward and you nearly stumble over the threshold.

A man is standing in the doorway. A man with a button down sweater and a concerned, fretful expression--well, no wonder, with the way you’d been rapping on his door.

The man is your psychologist. Mr. Mayeda. You’ve been going to him for several years–or at least, you were going to him, before everything happened. Before you were taken and kept and–

His eyes widen. He takes in your state. Oh, how you must look. Forehead beaded with sweat, eyes round and pleading.

And then there is the matter of the collar around your neck.

“Come in,” he says, sounding dazed and concerned all in one breath. “Tell me what’s happened.”

–

“Will you miss me, pet?”

You nod, and keep your eyes downcast. He likes your eyes downcast when you’re in the presence of anyone else–like now. Unless he tells you to look at him. But even when you’re alone with Geto, you’re prone to keeping your eyes glued to the floor, your lap, the ceiling. Anywhere but his face.

“Do speak up,” he says, trailing a finger possessively along your cheek.

“Yes, master Geto,” you murmur. “Please return quickly.”

He pats your head. Like a dog, like a pet. Because that’s what you’ve become, isn’t it? His pet. You even sit at his knees when he’s addressing his legions of followers, most of whom you can’t stand; and the ones you can stand only possess that particular description because you haven’t really met them yet. 

This one, the woman Geto is leaving to monitor you while he’s off on some awful errand, is not someone new. She’s someone who dislikes you out of jealousy or supremacy or perhaps a bubbling mixture of both.

But there’s an advantage in that. She doesn’t try to talk with you, like some of the milder ones do. As soon as Geto is gone, she throws a disdainful glare your way and gets out her phone. She doesn’t even bother staying in the room with you; she goes into the next room and slides the door shut. She’ll talk to her boyfriend until she hears the telltale sound of Geto’s footsteps leading up to the room, then pretend like she’s been happily watching over you the whole time.

Which means she won’t notice when you pry open a loose floorboard and retrieve a backpack you’ve stuffed with papers, with cash, with a few necessities. 

Which means you’ll have an easier time escaping. 

Which means you’ll finally be free.

It almost seems too easy, when you make it out of the compound. You expect Geto to pounce on you at any moment. But you make it out,  you do, and you make it to a bus station and slide some of the money you stole from Geto’s room over to the ticket counter.

You could call the police. But Geto would look for you there first. He would know you’d run, little rabbit that you are, to the only authority you could think of; but they couldn’t protect you. Not from him. 

So your mind drums up the only address you can really remember–that of your psychologist’s office–and you ask the ticket taker for the next bus to the city.

–

Mr. Mayeda does not say anything at first. 

Even though what you’ve told him sounds wild. And crazy. And wholly made up. That is to say, you’ve told him everything. About how Geto Suguru can control monsters, only they’re not simply monsters, but curses. About how he sees them and eats them and hoards them, like he’s tucking them away for some awful winter. About how he kidnapped you and kept you, how he treated you like a pet, how he wouldn’t let you go. 

About how you escaped and didn’t know where else to turn.

“I know,” you say, leaning forward, arms crossed over yourself. “I know it sounds crazy. But you have to believe me.”

Mr. Mayeda frowns. 

You pull your backpack into your lap and rummage through it, until 

“I didn’t believe any of it myself at first.” Memories come flooding in. Those early days,, spent crying, gritting your teeth so hard that your jaw ached for a week, unbelieving everything Geto told you in the calmest, most horrible tones. “But it’s true. And–and I don’t know where to go or what to do. He’ll try to find me, and, and…” Your breath begins to quicken, your heart pounds. How could you think you’d be free? Oh, he’ll find you, and kill poor Mr. Mayeda, and then where will you be? What will he do? 

You’re only barely aware of your hyperventilation when Mr. Mayeda places a firm hand on your shoulder. He says your name. He says it again. And again. And when you look at him, eyes bleary with tears, he speaks again. 

“You have to calm down. I can’t help you until you calm down.”

His voice is an anchor in the storm. Help you, he said. Help.

 Your hand shakily goes up to clasp his; it’s a foreign touch, the first person that you’ve touched since Geto took you. No one else was allowed to, except Manami, but that was only in case of emergencies. 

“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Your voice is a hoarse croak. 

Mr. Mayeda gives your fingers a squeeze, and then lets you go. He stands up and looks down at you with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re very upset, and need someone to listen to you.” He sighs and looks you over. “I’d like to grab your file from my office. Would you like anything? A glass of water? Food?” 

“Oh–oh yes, water, please. If it’s not any trouble.” Your stomach growls, but you don’t think you could keep anything down right now, anyway. 

And what does food matter, when he’s going to help you? When he believes you? You’d imagined this conversation so many times. In some of them, he escorts you out of the building and slams the door in your face. In others, he has you picked up by ambulance and committed to a hospital for delusions. In others, he yells at you for wasting his time.

But instead he doesn’t think you’re crazy and he’s going to help and it’s the best possible outcome. One that you, in your hopeless state, didn’t even foresee.

By the time he returns with a glass of water, your breathing has returned. You smile wearily and wipe your clammy hands before you take the glass. The water is cool and refreshing down your sore throat. 

Mr. Mayeda gives you a few moments before he begins to speak. He has your file now, and opens it up on his lap.

“I need to ask you a few things. Just to get an idea of how we should proceed, all right? Please let me know if you feel uncomfortable.”

You set the empty water glass down and nod. What’s a few questions, compared to the hell you’ve been living?

“Have you been to your home, since you’ve left this mysterious compound?”

“No.”

He scratches the answer on the pad.

“Did you call anyone else, or contact anyone else except for me?”

“No.”

Scratch-scratch.

“So no one else knows you’re here?”

“No.” You bite your lip, and ask questions of your own. “What are we going to do? Where can we go? Do you know anyone that can help?” 

He raises his hand.

“One thing at a time. First, I’d like to get everything straight on your end.” 

You nod, and bring your knees up on the chair, feeling like a child in a doctor’s office for the first time in ages.

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry, I’m just…” You don’t finish.

Mr. Mayeda simply smiles, pity in his expression. You don’t need to explain to him what you are “just,” because he’s confident and calm and he knows exactly what to do.  “That’s all right. I understand this is stressful. I’m going to go make a call, and then we’ll talk about what we can do next. Okay?”

You nod. You don’t want him to leave you–he’s going to help you–and worries begin to creep in about Geto somehow finding you here. Maybe you had a tracker on you that you didn’t know about. Maybe there was a curse attached to your shoulder and he’d simply sniff it out. 

Maybe you were too anxious to think straight.

By the time he returns, your knee is bouncing. He regards it with a frown, and you force yourself to stop.  You don’t want him to be mad at you–you want him to help you. He said he’d help you. You just don’t know what he can do to save you from Geto. What anyone could do. 

But he sits down, and gets out your file again. Then he begins to go through every detail of your story, confirming, questioning, writing down notes. It’s hard–you start to cry, thinking about everything–but it’s necessary to create a plan of action. Right? 

In the midst of all this, the doorbell buzzes.

He sighs, and his frown deepens. He must have forgotten an appointment–you can’t blame him, with your sudden arrival.  “Let me get that. I’ll just have them reschedule the appointment.” When he gets up from his chair, he looks older in the moment; more tired and slow. Well, the stress of you dropping your predicament in his lap can’t exactly be easy to take. 

You wipe your teary eyes, and grab a tissue to blow your nose. You hope he doesn’t have to reschedule too many clients because of you. You don’t want to be too much trouble.  You just want to be safe and free and–

Geto and Manami walk through the open doorway of the office, and your stomach drops to your shoes. 

Behind them, Mr. Mayeda looks remorseful. 

“I had to,” he says, voice quavering. “My daughter–she… she’s used his services, you see.” 

Geto looks back at Mr. Mayeda, who immediately shuts up and stares at the floor. 

Ah. So he threw you back to the wolves to protect someone he loved. You can’t begrudge him for it. Not really.

But it doesn’t change the loss of your short-lived freedom. 

–

Manami drives. You don’t have the strength to look anywhere but your own lap, at your hands curled up so tight that they hurt, resting on your thighs. 

Geto hasn’t said a thing since he collected you. 

“Suguru,” you say, voice shaking through the words. “I… ” You’re about to lie. He knows this. You know this. But he’s never minded you lying, before, as long as you said what he wanted. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” Still, he says nothing. 

“Suguru–” you try again. He finally looks at you, a slow, languid turn of his head. His lips curl just a little. Not in a way that makes you feel good. 

 His voice is soft and sweet as honey. His words are anything but.

“You think you have the right to address me right now?” 

He’s angry. Not just annoyed, not just mad, not just disappointed. Angry. It’s a heavy, dreadful feeling that glues you to the seat just as well as any bonds. 

Gravity seems to pull your chin down, until you’re once again staring at your lap.

This time, you clench your fingernails so hard that your palm bleeds. 

–

You don’t remember the walk back into the compound. You didn’t dare look up from the ground underneath your feet–walking step by step behind Geto, even though you wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction–to see the expressions of those devout followers. No doubt some were glaring as much as they dared.

It’s not until you’re back in Geto’s quarters and Manami has been dismissed that you hazard a glance at something other than your shoes, now dirty from your short journey outside these walls. 

You look up at Geto, who is standing, silent, head tilted just-so as he stares at you. When he finally opens his mouth, he issues a command.

“Go to the bedroom.”

They are words to be obeyed, and you do. 

He’s not yet in the room when he continues the orders.

“Disrobe. Lay on the bed. Spread your legs. Do not speak.”

Dread pools in your stomach, thick and slimy. It makes you want to run into the bathroom and hurl the contents of your last meal into the toilet. But you dare not deviate from what he’s said, not when the world feels so heavy; not when you know he’s angry with you.

So you slip off your clothing and lay on the bed and spread your legs. The cool air of the bedroom does nothing but increase your trembling as thoughts come one by one.

What does Geto intend to do? Something related to sex, surely. Maybe he’ll fuck you so hard that you can’t sit properly for days. Maybe he’ll make you lay here, naked, simply for his own amusement. Maybe he’ll hurt you, finally, and that underlying, coil-tight fear you’ve had since the moment you were kidnapped can finally release.

After far too long for your mental sanity, Geto finally does come into the room, stripped down to only an undershirt and thin cotton pants. Casual clothing he only wears around you, and no one else. Maybe he expects that to be flattering, but for whom, you can’t quite tell.

He crawls on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. 

He places his hands on either thigh, and pushes your legs further apart. 

You wait for some pain–the pain of him entering you without preparation, perhaps, or something more insidious. The crack of his hand. The crack of a leather belt. 

But you wait in vain, because instead of pain–instead of something harsh and cruel–you instead feel the soft touch of his fingers against your folds. His thumb rests softly against your clit, and begins to rub, sending an unwelcome jolt through you. 

“Suguru?” You ask, and boldly prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“I told you not to speak,” he murmurs, and you press your lips together. Now, you think, surely he will hit you.

But no. Instead he returns to his former ministrations, gently rubbing against your clit, other fingers gently squeezing the flesh of your pussy. It almost tickles, pleasantly. After a while, the dull pleasure begins to heighten, and you can feel a mild orgasm beginning to reach its peak. 

He stops. The pleasure hovers for a moment, and then begins to fade. 

He begins again. 

You want to ask him what he’s doing; you want to ask him why he stopped. But his order to remain quiet thrums through your head and you merely keep your head back on the bed, staring at the plain ceiling above you. 

The pleasure is different now. Sharper. Wetter. Instead of a dull, mild orgasm, it begins to feel like the ones you’ve had with him before; the ones where he spends a while building you up, getting you wet, wanting to hear you moan. 

Your breath begins to catch in your throat, and you can’t help but squirm your hips. It feels good,  you don’t want it, but he knows your body well enough to make it feel good.

And like before, you can feel yourself starting to reach your peak, getting to the point when pleasure becomes sparks. And–like before. 

He stops. 

And begins again. 

And stops. 

And begins again.

Until you are wet, and sweating, and squirming. Until your breath is not mildly catching in your throat but coming out in desperate pants. Until your hands are clenching the sheets. 

Until you are crying out, not because of pain and a sharp slap against your skin, but the unbearable heat that has built between your legs. A heat which Geto has carefully stoked with his fingers and his mouth, and the unrelenting pattern of bringing you to the top, only to let you fall before bringing you there once again.

You know you’re not supposed to speak. But you can’t help it, you just can’t help it. Not with the way his thumb is idly circling your clit. Not with the sweat clinging to your back. Not with the way your head begins to turn side to side of its own accord, unable to deal with the teasing. 

“Suguru–” Your voice is a needy whine. “Please, please–”

“Apologize,” he says, simply. Calmly. All the while continuing to slowly rub your clit with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” you croak. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

His thumb pauses, and you can feel your clit twitching against it.

“But do you mean it?” 

“Yes!” You don’t hesitate. Tears leak from your eyes. Wetness leaks from in between your legs.

“Then beg.” He keeps his thumb hovered above your clit. “Beg like you’re my pet. Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?”

Your thighs tremble. Your lips quiver.

“Please, Suguru.” Your cheeks heat in shame, but what shame can you truly hold onto, when your pussy is this wet, when you’re gyrating against him so pathetically? You say everything you think he wants to hear. “I’m your pet, I won’t run again, I’ll do what you say–”

You feel half-delirious, raising your hips towards the air to try to get some friction against his finger. All you succeed in doing is humping yourself against him, teasing your swollen clit with the promise of an orgasm that can only come from his fingers.

After a while, your words trail off into a pathetic whimper.

It’s then that Geto crawls up further on the bed and plants a kiss on your forehead. 

You sigh in relief. 

“No,” he says. “Bad pets don’t get rewarded, do they?”

You have only a moment to think before he yanks your sweaty wrists up and ties them to the headboard with cuffs he must have put there before he even collected you from Mr. Mayeda’s office. You pull against them once before he gives you a harsh look that makes you freeze. Once he’s satisfied with your stillness, he begins to take off his own clothes. 

“I would make you sleep on the floor,” he murmurs, shrugging off his shirt. “But that would be a punishment to me, to deny myself your body, no?” 

You can only shake your head in response as you shift your legs, trying to catch the fleeting orgasm that has begun to fade even further from your grasp. Geto raises an eyebrow and places his palm firmly on your hip to keep you in place. 

Once you stop squirming–it’s useless, you realize–he sighs and cuddles against you. It might be sweet, if he wasn’t who he was; if you weren’t in the position that you’re in. If there wasn’t an aching, warm soreness between your legs that has gone unfulfilled. 

His voice is not so sweet when he whispers against your ear.

“If you ever try something so foolish again, I won’t be kind about it.”

[munsonmuses]

•Sounds of Satisfaction•

Eric (AQPDO) x Fem! Reader

Warnings: mentions of the end of the world. Smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, light oral (f receiving)

I know it just came out. I know it’s new. But damnit…I needed smut with this watery eyed man let me tell you-

Authors Warnings: this was not proof read

Word Count: 1.7k

Eric’s body ached terribly. The impact from the water, swimming one handed. Running on empty for days as he carefully curled up with Frodo. Legs shaking and mouth flapping like a fish out of water, trying to form any thought as he sleepily looked around.

They’d been adrift for about six hours now, on open water and swaying with the waves. His empty stomach queasy from poorly digested stale pizza, bourbon, and fear. Looking around quietly before Frodo wriggled from his arms. Running off as Eric followed. Clamoring desperately as he weaved through bunches of people. “Excuse…excuse me…clear the way. My uh…my cat!” He squealed. Making his way through to a sight strangely comforting.

There you were, eating from your rucksack and carefully feeding Frodo pieces of beef jerky as his paws held your fingers expectantly. Eric blushing in shame as he walked over.

“I’m terribly sorry for his…behavior. He’s very curious, a risk taker.” He laughed nervously as you hummed softly in understanding. Pressing a cheese cracker to your tongue as you looked him over. “You’re from England…” you murmured as he nervously nodded. Sitting beside you and grunting as a massive bag of trail mix hit him in the chest. Gratefully opening and picking through it.

“I just got back from um…my trip across Europe. A study abroad program…didn’t expect this…” you murmured. “I was in my cab…and my parents were waiting for me…and then what looked like stars fell from the sky…then uh,” you mimicked the sound of an explosion while bubbling out your hands. “Parents gone, my little apartment in tatters and my life in shambles…” you murmured as he pursed his lips. Eyes filled with pity as he carefully placed a hand on your knee.

The two of you got to talking. Sharing names and experiences, Eric giving you the cashews from the trail mix as he frowned to himself. Carefully leaning his sleepy head on your shoulder as he hummed in thought.

“Where do you think we’re going?…” he whispered as you rubbed his scalp lightly. “Probably some sort of island or compound…somewhere safe.” You mumbled as you carefully stood. Eric’s big, wet brown eyes boring into you as you gestured for him to follow you as you entered the bottom of the ferry. Finding a storage closet as he eagerly trailed behind with Frodo in step. Watching as you piled up blankets and softer clothes from your bag into a pallet to sleep on.

“Is this um…where you’ll be sleeping?” He asked nervously as you hummed. “Yes. Yes it is…? Why…?” You murmured as he frowned to himself.

“Can…can I lie with you…?” Eric was clingy, terribly so. Thousands of miles from home. Nobody to stick by. He needed someone to keep him grounded in some way. His eyes watching you as you pushed air through your pursed lips.

“Yes but you have to take off the slacks and shoes. I don’t…I don’t think I can fathom sleeping next to someone dressed like a lawyer.” You muttered as he smiled wide. Removing his tie and kicking off his sneakers. Wriggling off his terribly stained slacks as you sighed.

Stripping of your layers, you stood in your thin tank top and your leggings. His face pink in flustered confusion as he shivered. “I um…I can see your…your um…” he gestured to your chest as you looked down.

“My…my what? Oh my nipples. I am a woman and it is cold Eric.” You insisted as he frowned. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before~” you teased as he looked away. “I’ve seen magazines, and pornos! I’m not…im not completely unaware.” He insisted to himself.

He hadn’t…seen a naked woman before, or even like…a barely clothed one in real life it seemed. Pursing your lips as you sighed. “I’ll gladly put on a sweater if it’s bothering…you…” your eyes travelled downward to a very nervous, very stressed, and very hard Eric as he bit his lip harshly.

“Eric…you’re telling me you nearly died a virgin?” You whispered as he whimpered in embarrassment. “I hadn’t had time, to do things like that? For fear of like…losing my way. I came here for one reason. Law school.” He insisted. Picking at his fingers anxiously as you gently took his hands and pulled them apart.

“Well…we’re relatively safe now…and you’re not terrible looking~” you teased him lightly as he scoffed in gentle frustration. “Would you like…for me to be your first time?” You murmured softly as he bit his lip. Thinking about it as he nodded slowly. You were the only person he knew in America with the current situation. Plus you were pretty. With full lips and big batting lashes and a dusting of pink on your cheeks from the cold and-…his thoughts kept spinning in his head as he whined. He felt perverted, to acknowledge how he’d been thinking of you.

“Yes please…” he murmured as he let you lead him to sit on the soft pallet you’d made. His eyes watching you tentatively as you carefully took his hands and placed them on your hips. “You can touch me Eric…just be gentle…can’t be too loud…it’s the end of the world after all,” you teased as he carefully nodded in agreement.

“Can we um…can we have you lying down…and me on top? If that’s okay?” He whispered. Thumbs rubbing idle circles on your hips as he waited for your approval.

“Yes we can do it in missionary…and thank you for asking it’s very sweet,” you assured as you slowly lied down. Eric following as he straddled your lap and tenderly moved up to cup your face. “May I kiss you…?” He whispered as you laughed lightly. Pulling him down to kiss you.

It was clumsy and messy, his body relaxing against you as he held your face between his clammy palms. Tongue swiping across your bottom lip as you allowed him in. His whimpers desperate as he rutted against your thigh. He was *big*.

He whimpered in need as his kisses trailed along your jaw, down your throat. Slowly working up your tank top as he audibly whined at the sight of your breasts. Nipples pebbling from the cold as he continued to kiss down your collarbone. Warm hands slowly working up your sides as he shuddered.

“You’re really fit, you know?” He whispered. Left hand lightly taking hold of one of your pert breasts. Gently kneading it between his wanton fingers and panting lightly to himself. His mouth wandering lower till it lightly nipped the soft skin of your chest. His knee slotted between your plush thighs. Hands slowly working their way down as you sucked air between your teeth. His mouth needy as he left hickeys across your full chest.

“I um…im going to try something…” he whispered nervously as he carefully backed up. Pressing his nose against your soft stomach as he clumsily took the elastic of your underwear between his teeth. Pulling it down with a bit of a struggle. Getting them off as his eyes widened.

“Wow…um…you’re…you’re beautiful…” he complimented as he lifted your left leg just a bit. Pressing warm and wet kisses along your inner thigh before ending at your clit. Placing a firm and warm peck as his fingers delicately traced your lips.

“Thank you…Eric-“ you’d been holding your breath. His passionate and gentle ministrations were addictive as you watched his face dip between your legs. Moaning lightly as his fingers pressed into you. Looking up at your face to make sure he hadn’t hurt you.

His fingers were thick, and careful. Lightly pumping and curling as he fingered you. Not wanting to cause any harm as he bit his lip gently. Drawing a moan from you as he covered your mouth. “Mmmm…shhh~, we don’t want to get caught.” He insisted lightly as he gently rubbed your clit with his thumb.

His motions were calculated, eyes never leaving your face to make sure you were okay. The soft and wet sounds of your cunt the only real noise besides your muffled breathing. His big brown eyes blown up in need as he whimpered loudly.

“When we get…wherever we’re meant to be, you’ll stay with me…” he was asking, though it came out as more of a gentle demand as he wriggled his fingers a bit deeper. Starting to increase the speed of his motions as you gripped the fabric beneath you.

“Fuck-“ it barely came past his mouth as he shuddered aggressively. “I need you…” he retracted his fingers. Your body clenching around nothing as he worked himself out of his boxers.

He was thick, a nice vein along the underside of his shaft as he pumped himself with his soaked hand. Watching you desperately as he pushed between your thighs and eased himself into you.

His grip on your mouth tightened as your lashes fluttered and back arched. Groaning softly to himself as he eased each inch till he’d fully hilted himself inside you. Twitching lightly. He’d cum soon. Inexperienced and desperate.

He slowly rolled his hips. A testing motion to see if it felt as good for you as it did him. Tears pricking your eyes from overstimulated need. His lips lightly kissing them away as he began to thrust.

“So good for me…so pretty…” he whined lightly as he held you close. His thrusts short and deep as he rocked into you. The space a bit cramped as he hissed through his teeth. “Oh your cunt was made for me…” he murmured as he rocked his weight to make sure he could get as much friction as possible. “Such a pretty girl…” he crooned as he held your gaze.

His breathy moans came from between his plush lips. Nervous and needy as he grit his teeth lightly. Legs trembling as he panted loudly to himself. “So fucking good…” his words were simply repeating. Brain fried from lust and exhaustion.

“Fuck fuck fuck-“ his hips stuttered as he pressed himself deep into you. Letting himself cum as you moaned into his hand. Holding his wrist as he slowly lied on top of you. Exhausted pants leaving you both as his hand slipped from your mouth.

“Thank you…” he whispered, eyes closing. Finally able to rest.

[lady-lauren]

Eye of the Storm

↬ Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

↬ Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

↬ Word Count: 1.4k

↬ Warnings/Tags: Praise kink, body worship, mirror sex, use of “good girl”, a bit of overstimulation, Gojo is a definitely a simp, and Gojo is too pretty for his own good and so are you

↬ A/N: my first jump into jjk is Gojo and I’m not ashamed.

He is devastation—the icy bite of a raging blizzard, yet the blaze of a desert sun. There’s no escape from Satoru’s gaze, no rescue from his embrace. He sees all, feels all. And you are all he desires. 

“Look at me, baby—watch me, that’s it, look at what I do to you.” 

Slim fingers press into the plush of your cheeks, forcing you to gape into the full length mirror. 

Satoru’s body is relentless behind yours, chest dewed with sweat as he grinds his cock into your gummy depths. You watch as his hand slides down your stomach, possessive and craving, pressing into your guts so he can feel himself inside you. 

“This pretty body is mine, yeah?”

Every thrust of his hips has your knees sliding farther apart on the sheets, the force of the storm behind you overwhelming. His mouth is everywhere—tongue sliding over your shoulder, up your throat, lips trailing down your spine as he murmurs hushed praises into your skin. 

“All I’ve ever wanted,” he whispers against your flesh, the fingers on your cheeks tightening selfishly. 

Behind you is a man lost; he is greedy and giving, consumed by a lust you’ve long evaded.

Between the pleasurable spread of your cunt and the spray of snow-white hair against your sweaty skin, you see visions of the past. Satoru’s sloppy grin as he chases you around the grounds of Jujutsu High, the bright magenta of camellias in the wind as he prays for your attention. The desperate phone calls late at night still ring in your ears alongside his heady moans.

You always thought that he is too selfish, too egotistical to truly love someone aside from himself. He’s a taker, a gravity well of power and pride. So you’ve kept your distance, kept pushing him away out of fear of getting sucked into him, being used by him. 

Only you’re so so fucking wrong. 

The deft fingers swirling against your clit are begging for you to cum, for him to give you the stars and feel weightless in his arms. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, “don’t stop—please, S-Satoru…”

He wraps an arm around your waist, straightening your bodies until he’s practically bouncing you on the thickness of his cock. A flash of the sky appears over your shoulder, white lashes heavy with desire. His smile is lazy and full of delight. 

“I’ll never stop. I’ve caught you now, sweet girl.” 

You’re a fly in the spider’s nest, entangled by the long limbs of an insatiable predator. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, you know that?” he breathes over the sound of his skin sliding against yours, your cunt gushing with every plunge of him inside of you. He’s in your throat, skating up your spine, sinking into every pore as he takes you, praises you. 

Your bodies meld in the reflection, your hands in his hair, his arms a gilded cage around your curves. In your eyes, you’re a darkness to his shining light, fading against his luminance. How can he find you so beautiful against his brilliance? 

His fingers brush against your clit just right, blurring the edges of your vision as you mewl and buck against him. Still, you can make out how his cock splits you apart, your pussy vulnerable to his onslaught. 

“That’s it,” Satoru coos, “cum for me, let me see how pretty you are when you cum on my cock.” 

He takes your bouncing tit in his free hand, squeezing the fat between his fingers and pebbling your nipple under his thumb. His eyes are catlike as he watches you—eager, ready, studying every twitch of your belly your cunt becomes over sensitive to his touch. 

A gentle tug to your nipple has your back arching, the responsive nerves soaring like fire down your back, tingling your toes. The pads of his index and middle fingers are fierce against your slick pussy, pressing and circling your clit until it’s puffy and swollen. 

“J-just like that, oh fuck me, you feel so good, so..so..” you drift off into the headspace of sex, bemused by the feel of him against you, pushing inside of you. His muscles are tensing against your back, his thighs hot against your own. His shoulders become a safe haven as you become fucked out, your head lolling against soft skin. 

“Please,” he begs, lips kissing against your neck, “so perfect, so fucking perfect.” 

He’s all consuming. The smell of him, syrupy and rich, vanilla and oak; the feel of him, lithe and brawny, soft and strong, the push and pull of tidal waves against the shore of your body. 

You could get used to this—addicted to the praises of the most powerful sorcerer bleeding into your skin, wrapping around the visions of your bodies in the mirror like a vice. 

“Love everything about you, baby, can’t believe I finally get to fuck you and feel this perfect cunt.” 

The blushing shock shows on your face and he grins, rolling your clit faster until it nearly hurts. 

He mouths to you in the mirror, his lips begging do it, do it, goading you to come undone. 

You focus on the shape of his words, on the peek of his hips thrusting behind your own. Every muscle is defined, from his rounded biceps down to the sublime V cresting down to the thick cock spearing between your legs. 

He is truly devastating as he makes you cum, quick fingers determined to keep you spiraling over the edge as his blue eyes shine with ecstasy. You convulse and choke on air, clamping onto his cock as your world goes white. Your body and mind hum against his praises into your hair. “Good girl, god so f-fucking good, so tight, oh my god…”

In your delirium, Saturo forces your body to the bed, spent hips in the air as he takes you from behind. Your neck cranes against the mattress, bleary eyes blinking toward the shapes in the reflection. 

“Gonna make you do that again, baby girl. Wanna feel that pussy suck my cock.” 

Strong hands grip into the meat of your ass as he pushes your body forward with every drive of his hips, your breasts bounding against the sheets. 

“Satoru I…c-can’t, too full, too…” too everything. 

Your senses are exploding and imploding at once, nerve endings shot and simultaneously feeling every small touch. You can count his fingertips digging into your skin, catch his sweat trickling down your spine, feel his cockhead bullying into your spongy depths. Your puffy pussy drags along his length with every plunge, the veins of his cock throbbing against your walls, pushing against your wetness. 

Every time he groans, you taste sin, the deep sound vibrating in your belly. 

“You can and you will.” A hand tangles at the nape of your neck, firm fingers ensuring your head is turned to watch him behind you, taking you, pleasing you. 

“This pretty body was made for me, yeah,” he affirms, tugging on your hip until you're entirely arched to take him. His cock stretches you wider, fills you to the brim until you can no longer breathe. Saturo builds a fast, staccato rhythm, losing himself to the view of your bodies melting into one being. The dazzling sun eclipsing the moon, chasing a fevered high.

“Come on, baby, milk my cock, be a good girl.” 

It takes the barest of touches to set you off again, just a few simple swirls of his thumb against your clit and you’re crashing, taking him with you. 

Satoru hisses through his teeth as your cunt writhes against him, pumping like a heart and sucking his soul. 

“Oh that’s it, baby, oh fuck.” 

You watch his neck fall back as he unloads inside of you, brilliant blue eyes finally closing in absolution as he stills. Time slows as you take in the reflection of your overworked body still connected to his, cum spilling down your inner thighs as Saturo Gojo smiles at his handiwork. Your bodies are perfect together, meant to be together. 

All too quickly, you find yourself empty on your back, staring into the sun of Saturo. 

“You okay?” He barely gives you a chance to answer, eating your affirmative reply as he tastes your lips, licking between your teeth. 

“You’re so pretty all fucked out,” he muses, kissing over your cheeks as you blink yourself back to life. 

“Mhm, I’m not—”

“Oh yeah?” His brow quirks as he settles his hips between yours, slipping an arm around the small of your back. “Then we’ll try again.”   

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Javier Peña

pedro pascal has me in a chokehold and i'm not gonna apologize for it. take this smut. also, this is basically just a self insert cause i couldn't help myself

Summary: All alone at a bar after being stood up by a blind date, you catch Javier's lustful eye.

Warnings: self insert basically (I'm half Mexican so...yeah, I made reader Mexican too. sue me), alcohol and drug consumption, dancing and leaving no room for Jesus (grinding), SMUT (MINORS DNI), one night stand, fingering, oral (m!receiving), spanking, kinda mean dom!Javi

word count | 4.3k🤙🏻

You didn’t think your night could get any worse.

First, you get all dolled up just to be stood up by your date, then the friend you came to the club with abandoned you to hook up with some random guy. You hoped you’d at least meet someone here to soothe your bruised ego, but there weren’t any takers or anyone that met your standards. Yeah, tonight seemed like it would be a bust.

Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Javier Peña couldn’t keep his eyes off you. After a rough day on the job, his partner encouraged him to come to this club to blow off some steam. He was content just hanging out with Murphy, until he saw you. The expression on your face is what caught his eye first, the way you had a permanent frown and look of disappointment. He instantly knew you must’ve gotten stood up, or broken up with. Why would anyone stand up someone as gorgeous as you? He’d never know. He really thought you were. Gorgeous. The way your eyes sparkled in the club lights, the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your margarita glass, leaving a subtle red stain with your lipgloss. Of course, he couldn’t help but notice your attire; a dress just above knee length lined with lace, hugging the form of your torso but flowing around your hips. He followed the curve of your ass down your legs until he got to your freshly pedicured feet that sported wedges that matched the dress. He hated knowing that you must’ve gotten dressed up for nothing.

You were such a stunner, Javier didn’t even register Steve was even talking to him. “Sorry, what?” He tried speaking over the music blaring over the speakers.

Steve only laughed, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer. “You’ve been eyeing that bird ever since we got here. Just go talk to her, man.”

Javier shook his head, turning back around to face his partner. “Nah, I came here with you. It’s fine.”

Steve gave him an unimpressed look, totally not believing him. “You’re so full of shit. Right now, I know the last thing you wanna be doing is spending time with little ol’ me when you could be chatting up a beautiful woman. I’m alright, thinking about heading home to my woman actually.” He finished his drink and started to get up before Javier could even respond. “Enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it after the day we’ve had. See ya on Monday.” 

“But, I-” Javi’s voice trailed out the farther Steve walked away, leaving him alone and slightly buzzed. He looked back over at you, somehow looking even more pitiful and on the verge of completely giving up on fun. He sighed heavily before chugging the rest of his beer. “Fuck it.”

You didn’t hear the approaching footsteps over the music, getting startled out of your thoughts when you heard a voice from beside you. “Te ves como si te estuvieras divirtiendo.” The man beside you said, his voice straining a little so you could be able to hear him. At first glance, you thought about leaving right away, but once you got another look, this man was actually pretty attractive. He was tall, gruff looking, but his smile was sweet.

You smiled apologetically. “Lo siento, no hablo español.” You cursed yourself for never learning Spanish.

“Oh, no problem. I’m originally from the States, so. You’re not Colombian?”

“Mexican, actually.”

“Ah, muy bien.”

You giggled, taking a sip of your margarita to calm your nerves in front of this very handsome man. “Spent my whole life around Hispanics and never seemed to pick it up. My father is very disappointed in me.” His laugh made a blush bloom across your cheeks, but thankfully the lights in the club were dim enough to make sure he couldn’t notice.

“What are you doing in Colombia?”

“Holiday, invited by a friend.”

“And what brings you to this club tonight? Got a hot date?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

You huffed. “Well, I was supposed to meet someone here, but he was a no show. I came here with my friend too, but said friend has ditched me tonight.”

His eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “They left you after you got stood up?”

“Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that. I told her she could, but that was before I was ghosted. She’s probably back at our hotel getting dicked down right now. So, I figured I’d stay here a while to give her some privacy or snag someone here for myself.”

“Any takers?” Javier already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

You sighed with a sad smile. “Nope. I’m completely alone here.”

He leaned in closer to you, resting his forearms on the bar stand. “Well, not anymore. Can I buy you a drink?”

You smirked. “I don’t even know your name.”

He reached out his hand. “Javier Peña.” You closed the gap, taking his course, warm hand in yours. He grinned as you told him your name, as if you just told him the secret of life. “Bonita. Two whiskeys, por favor.” He spoke to the bartender. Oh, this guy was good.

“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” You giggled.

He shrugged. “Have to be in my line of work. Plus, if I wasn’t, I’d never get laid.” You almost spat out your drink. Well, bold was an understatement.

“And what line of work would that be?”

Javier seemed to hesitate at that, scrunching his face in a frown for a brief second. “DEA Agent.” You nodded in acknowledgement, your expression plain so he couldn’t guess what your stance was. You weren’t running away immediately, so that was a good sign.

Throughout the next hour or so, you both talked each other’s heads off. Each of you telling each other about your work, hobbies, likes and dislikes, even some political stances (the alcohol may have loosen your tongues).

Then, your eyes lit up as a popular Spanish song sounded through the speakers. “Oh my god, I love this song!” You beamed, your body instantly swaying to the beat in your chair.

Javier smiled, stepping away from the bar and extending his hand. “Dance with me?”

“You’re just gonna assume I know how to dance?”

“You’re Mexican, aren’t you?”

“Half.” You chuckled nervously.

He shrugged, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the stool you were sitting on. “You’ll be able to keep up. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Promise.” He purred, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Oh, he was trouble.

You let out a surprised squeal as Javier spinned you around with his hand before getting into the dance. The song was more fast paced, so you both settled on a messy salsa. Javier led you well, laughing off whenever you accidentally stomped on his foot. You had taken a salsa class before, so you weren’t too terrible. But you could tell Javier could’ve looked much better with a more experienced partner. But he didn’t choose someone else, he chose you. “See? You’re not that bad!” He shouted over the music, causing you to grin.

“Well, you’re an excellent dance partner.”

As the energy died down and a slower song came on, you and Javier stepped closer together, wrapping each other’s arm around the other as you started to sway to the music. Your heart thumped in your chest as he looked down on you with those dark, mysterious eyes. He didn’t even try to hide every glance down to your lips or your chest that was pressed up against his. Taking a look around, all the other couples on the dance floor were in similar positions, most making out which caused a blush to form on your cheeks. Javi seemed to notice as he smirked, stepping back to twirl you around, pulling your back against his chest, still keeping up with the beat.

“And what about this song? Is this another favorite?” He spoke against your ear, eliciting a shiver down your spine as you felt his breath fan across your skin.

You shook your head. “I’ve never heard it before.”

“Oh, it’s a great song. It’s about getting to know a woman’s body for the first time.” Your eyes widened. “What she likes, how she likes to be touched, learning if she likes it slow…or rough.” You silently gasped as Javi gripped your hips tightly, pulling your ass against his pelvis, bringing one hand to press against your lower stomach. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the music or maybe it was just you, but you subtly smirked as you grinded back against him, a soft groan escaping from his lips as he tightened his hold against you.

“That does sound like a great song. I bet you know all about that, hm?”

“I am a fast learner.” He growled, running his tongue up the side of your neck, instinctively allowing your head to loll back to rest against his shoulder. You bit your bottom lip to keep in a moan that threatened to escape as his teeth dug in gently. You smiled as you felt Javier’s bulge against your ass, the music allowing you to grind against him without raising any brows. 

“Should I guess what you like?”

He hummed. “If you come back to my apartment with me, you won’t have to.”

You turned back to face him, a bright smile on your face. “Will you be gentle?”

He smirked darkly. “I don’t think that’s what you want, querida.”

The both of you didn’t waste any more time in that dance club. You felt your arousal pool in your underwear as Javier all but dragged you outside to slam you against his car, his lips already brushing against every piece of exposed skin he could find before kissing you roughly, his mustache tickling. You moaned at the intensity of it, not having been laid in a long, long time. But you couldn't get too ahead of yourself, you weren’t at his apartment and you were still in public, but by how handsy Javier was being, you figured it didn’t bother him. “Are we going to your place or should I just take off my panties right now?” You giggled as you gently pushed him away, keeping him at arm's length.

“Sorry. I don’t normally take my time…” He whispered breathlessly, placing a feather light kiss on your cheek.

You smirked. “I have some weed if that’ll make you relax.”

Javier narrowed his eyes and pinched your side playfully, making you wince. “You know, I could arrest you for that.”

“Yeah. But from the hard on that pressing against me right now, you really want to get in my pants. Can’t fuck me when I’m in a jail cell.”

“I can be creative.” You let out a whimper as he smacked your ass hard, groping the fatty flesh through your dress before reaching behind you to open the passenger side door of his truck. “Get in.”

You chuckled at his demanding tone, clearly worked up, but you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore so you obeyed. You almost flinched as he slammed the door shut, speed walking to the other side of the car and starting the engine as soon as he got in. On the road, Javier extended his hand towards you, palm facing it. You raised a brow in confusion. “The drugs.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Seriously? It was a joke. I don’t have any weed.”

Javier looked you up and down with a glance before a smirk came to his face. “So you wouldn't mind if I search you?”

“Where would I ever hide it? My bra? My cunt?”

“Scared I’ll find some?”

You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, shifting in your seat to slightly face him, leaning up against the door as you removed your underwear but keeping your dress covering your modesty. “I’ve got nothing to hide, sir.”

Javier’s eyes darkened as he glanced between you and the road. There wasn’t much traffic, so he figured he could get away with it. He reached his hand over and patted your torso down, reaching further and further until he got to your breasts, kneading the flesh softly until his fingers dipped in past your dress and bra. You sighed out as he roamed your tits, pinching your nipples until they hardened. “All clear?” You teased, squeezing your thighs together to get some friction.

“Not yet. I have one more place to check.” You tried not to shiver as his hand trailed down your body, lifting the hem of your dress out of the way and pushing your legs apart to lay his eyes on your glistening pussy. You could hear a soft growl from him as he slid one of his fingers through your slit, your wetness gathering at your entrance quickly. “Been a while, has it?” You gasped as his middle finger started to press against your clit, heat rushing to your face and neck, contrasting against the cold window your head rested against.

“A bit, yeah.” You exhaled shakily.

Stopping at a red light, Javier’s eyes were fixed on your face as he inserted two of his fingers inside you, watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head briefly as your lips parted in a moan. He groaned, curling his fingers rhythmically and trying to stretch you out preemptively. “So fuckin’ tight, babygirl. Squeezing my fingers so hard.” Well, it was hard not to when his fingers were so thick and long. He definitely was an expert in this field, finding that place inside you that always had you panting and whining, which is exactly what you were doing as he paired the thrusts of his fingers with his thumb circling your clit.

“Fuck, that feels so good Javier.” You moaned, holding on to the dash for dear life as you tried not to squirm too much.

“Call me Javi.” A sudden honk of a horn jerked you and Javier out of the moment, the spotlight turned red minutes ago, causing the car behind to lose their patience. You giggled as he cursed in Spanish as he sped off, faster than before, anxious to feel all of you. With his fingers still inside you, Javi hastily parked his vehicle on the street outside his apartment, ripping off his seatbelt to lean over to kiss you sloppily. “You were close before, weren’t you?”

You nodded with a whine, the windows starting to fog with your panting breaths. You held onto his shoulder as he forced you to that peak once more, just the right move to push you over the edge. “Javi, fuck-!” You whimpered, the wet squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you echoing in the truck.

“So wet.” He chuckled darkly. “Gonna come on my fingers, querida?”

“Yes. Yes, Javi!” You moaned loudly, heat taking over your whole body as you rode out that wave of ecstasy on his fingers. Javier groaned as he watched your face contort in pleasure, it almost making him come in his jeans untouched. He grinned as he watched your slick coat his fingers and pool into his palm, pulling his hand away to see your cunt make stringy cobwebs of cum. “All clear on those drugs, agent Peña?” You joked when you noticed his oblivious fixation.

He chuckled softly. “I don’t know. I think you’ll need to join me in my apartment for a further evaluation.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Your hands shook as Javier led you up the stairs to his apartment with heavy and hot gazes towards you, almost to make sure you were following him. Like you’d ever want to leave with the promise of getting laid. He seemed to be antsy like you, fumbling with his keys and having to take a deep breath before unlocking his door. But once you stepped over the threshold, all possible nerves promptly left his body as he pinned you to his wall and kissed you passionately. You whined as his hands wandered until they gripped onto your ass, grinding his clothed erection against you.

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you, hermosa.” He growled before latching onto the crook of your neck with his teeth.

“Then don’t.” You whispered shakily, palming his bulge which elicited a low, deep groan from him, the noise causing a pang of arousal to resonate through your entire body. You wanted to hear more, but Javi grabbed your wrist.

“So eager, babygirl. Want me to make you come again that badly?” He chuckled mockingly when you nodded. He led you to his bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of his bed with his lips latched onto yours. “Wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock.” He hummed as he unbuttoned his jeans. Your eyes widened and mouth watered as Javier took his cock out, thick and long. Obviously his jeans had hidden its actual size, you didn’t know if you’d be able to fit it inside. “Think you’ll be able to take it?”

“I’ve just never had someone as big as you, Javi.” That seemed to make him smirk with pride.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll go easy on you. First, at least.” Javier gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, suddenly feeling intimidated by his domineering stature; but it only turned you on even more. “You wanna suck my cock, princess?” You smiled in reply, licking your lips and leaning forwards to lick up the small bead of precum gathered on his slit, the action making him hiss softly. Making sure to keep eye contact with him, you licked the underside of his cock from base to tip, wrapping your lips around the head and suckling on it gently. “Oh, you’re a tease, huh?” You yelped as Javi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled harshly, taking advantage of your surprise and shoving his cock in your mouth. You instantly tried to relax, sucking on him until he let out a lovely moan. “That’s it. That’s it…good girl.”

His praises and moans went straight to your core, making you even needier than before. He sounded so pretty. Even if your jaw started to ache, you wanted to keep hearing his breathless noises of pleasure. You made a pretty picture, Javier thought. Your lips and tongue around his cock, looking up at him with tears spilling out the sides of your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, your moans of exertion causing a delightful vibration. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He needed to fuck you. Now.

You gasped as Javier pulled you off his dick, kissing you roughly before removing his shirt, your lips upturning in a smile as you admired his body. “Clothes off and lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.” He ordered, and you had no problem obeying, might’ve even been a bit too eager, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your face flushed with heat as his gaze fixed on your breasts, licking his lips and smirking. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous, baby.” You giggled as he pounced on you, sloppily kissing you while positioning himself in between your legs.

You bit your lip as Javier rubbed his dick in between your slick folds, gasping as the head nudged your clit. “Want you inside me so bad, Javi.” You whispered, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other bracing yourself on his shoulder as he started to slowly push in. Your head fell back to the pillow beneath you with your mouth open in a moan, Javi fully sheathing himself inside your velvety walls.

“Fuck, babygirl.” Javier groaned, his brows furrowed, trying to restrain himself from plowing into you right away. He had a vice grip on your hip, while his other hand was groping your tit. “You feel so good.”

“Fuck me harder, Javi, please.” You whined, canting your hips upwards to try and get more friction, but he roughly pinned you down with his hands.

“Ain’t gonna last long if I do that.”

“I don’t care. Please.” You begged, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. Javier growled as he pulled out of you, flipping you over on your front, head down and ass up, pushing himself back in your pussy harshly, setting a cruel pace. “Fuck!” You groaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a pleasured haze. He fucked you hard and slow, each thrust making you jerk and cry out every time he hit the ends of you, a loud slapping skin against skin noise echoing through his entire apartment. You’d be surprised if his neighbors didn’t come banging on his door telling you to keep it down.

“You like this better, slut?” He mocked before letting out moans of his own, the new position one of his favorites, that much you could tell.

“Yes. God, yes, Javi!” You started to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Javi pushed you back down, keeping your face pressed against the pillow.

“Keep your fuckin’ head down.” He demanded, grunting loudly with every thrust. “Anything else you wanna complain about, sweetheart?”

“Can you…can you spank me, please?” You couldn’t see him from your position, but he grinned, followed by a couple hard slaps to both your ass cheeks, making you moan in appreciation. You could tell he enjoyed spanking you, since he did it often, your skin throbbing and raw but it felt so good. His grip on your hip he used as leverage started to turn painful as opposed to the pressure it previously felt, just knowing you’d have plenty of marks afterwards, and you couldn’t wait to see the masterpiece of bruises he left on your skin in the morning.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re making it real difficult to keep it together. I don’t think I’ll be able to last much longer.” You lifted yourself with your arms, trying to turn yourself on your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna watch as you come.” You smiled sweetly. Now how could Javi deny you when you looked like that? He allowed you to turn over, then he sat up on his haunches and wrapped your legs around his waist. He looked so fucking angelic from this angle, looking down at you with a pleasure ridden face, the sweat coating his body making him shine, his hair disheveled and a dark look his in eyes. The sight paired with his ruthless thrusts, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you, made your second climax of the night get closer and closer, you could almost taste it. 

Javier watched as goosebumps rose all over your body, your nipples hardening and your walls clenching around him tightly, signaling you were close. If it weren’t for how close he was as well, he’d surely have an arrogant smirk on his face from how drunk you were getting off his cock. “You gonna come for me again, querida?”

“Yes, Javi!” You cried, your body starting to shake uncontrollably as the first shock waves of your orgasm washed over you. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m coming!”

Javier let out a strained moan as your walls pulsed around him, soaking his cock and your face contorting in pure euphoria. He couldn’t resist grabbing ahold of your hand, giving you an anchor to ground yourself as you came down from your high, additionally giving him something to hold on to as he started to reach his own climax. “Where do you want me to come?”

“Inside…” You whispered breathlessly. “Come inside me, Javi. I want it. I need it.”

Javier grunted loudly as his warm ropes of cum painted your walls, his muscles tensing and soft whimpers escaping his mouth as he stilled inside you, panting as if he’d just run a marathon. He surprised you by kissing you softly, then your chin, cheek, and finally your forehead. Much more tender than he previously was. You almost whined at the loss of contact as he laid beside you, immediately lighting a cigarette, offering you one, but you politely declined, claiming you had your own. Instead, you slightly sat up in the bed and pulled out a joint from your bag, smirking to yourself as you knew he’d throw a fit.

You took glances over at Javier as you lit up your joint, resisting the urge to laugh as his eyes widened at the smell, immediately snapping his head towards you with furrowed brows. “Are you really smoking grass in front of me right now?” He scolded. “Seriously? You lied to me.”

You smiled. “What’re gonna do? Handcuff me?”

His eyes darkened, setting down his cigarette in an ashtray and leaned over to hover above you.“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You only replied by taking a puff of your joint and blowing the smoke in his face. You whimpered as he kissed you hard, biting your lip until he broke skin. “You know marijuana is a gateway drug?”

“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled, putting out your joint so you could focus on kissing him. “You really gonna arrest me, Javi?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, just…just don’t do it around me, alright?”

You raised a brow playfully. “Oh, so this wasn’t just a one time thing?”

He didn’t meet your gaze. “I mean, not if you want it to be. I was going to ask if you wanted to, ya know, do this again sometime?” He spoke softly, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.

You giggled giddily, feeling like a teenager who just got asked out by your crush. The grin that stretched across Javi’s face at your reaction made your heart thump in your chest even faster. “Of course, Javi. I’d love that.”

“Good.” He smiled, kissing you one more time.

You smirked. “Hey, maybe you could use your handcuffs on me next time.”

“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”

fuck sake

[kazumist]

EPISODE 22 ✿ IT CAN'T HAPPEN

YOU + ME = LOVE — A DILUC SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 526.

“stop following me.”

“(name), if you could please just let me explain," he reaches out to you, trailing behind you hastily.

you stopped in your tracks and faced him, fighting and praying for your voice not to crack. “explain what? explain that you’re leaving the country in, like, what? three weeks?”

“i was going to tell you," he says, attempting to gently grab your arm but you pull yourself back out of his reach. “and when would that be? when you’re about to board that goddamn plane? when you’re about to take your first step into another country? when, diluc?” this is precisely why you didn’t want to fall in love. the attachment that comes with it is enough to make you go insane.

“i—”

he was speechless. for once in his life, diluc was speechless. he always knew what to say; there was never a moment where he would be found hesitating in his words. but for some reason, ever since he met you, this is the first time he actually didn’t know what to say. he knew that if he said another word, it would hurt you—the both of you—more.

“thought so.” your words were cold enough to feel like bullets on his skin.

he calls out your name, unsure if he’s making the right decision right now. but you ignored him, taking this as your chance to speak up.

“you know? i knew it was a bad decision. to let myself fall for you, that is. i should’ve kept my balance before succumbing to whatever the hell this pit is, because fucking hell, diluc ragnvindr—i love you. there, i said it. i love you, diluc ragnvindr. even when i don’t want to, i do.”

silence.

say something—do something, anything, diluc. you thought.

he swallowed. “i can’t, (name). we both have bright futures ahead of us and i’m not sure if i’m ready to juggle a relationship with that. you deserve someone who’s willing to take risks for you, and i’m just not that person. i’m a coward. i’m no risk taker. i’m too scared to even take that leap of faith—even if it means that i get to be with you.”

another moment of silence.

diluc continues, moving closer. his steps were cautious, trying to read if you’d let him (which you did). he grabs your arms on both sides at first, then a hand travels to your face, caressing your cheek ever so gently. “i can still help you and continue being your tutor until the semester ends, but this… us…” a deep breath.

“it can’t happen, (name).”

tears started to sting your eyes when you pulled away from him.

“you know what? let's just end it. finals are over, the semester is ending and you'll be graduating soon. thank you for your help, diluc. i really couldn’t have done this without you.”

you walked past him, not even sparing him another glance back. diluc wants to say something—to do something—but no words come out of his mouth and his feet are glued hard to the ground.

so he just watches you leave, lowering his head down after you leave his sight.

extra notes.

i wrote this chapter when i was still working on ep 9. and this is literally ep 22. i was wayyyyy too excited LOL

anyways this is actually one of my favorite parts. hope you guys liked it as well, happy valentine's <3

taglist (open): @ryuryuryuyurboat @g4bbyyy @kizakiss @quackimilktea @mochiboo123 @thystarsshine @cerisescherries @jamieexistss @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @aethion @dottoreworld-page @naishite @sleepyeri @staaarhin @eroxotckv @kiyiiaarchived @fallenssun @lolmeowing @dorryx @astolary @kissingkzuha @axerrri @a1-ic3 @lottierulez @livelaughlovekuni @sorcerersseestars @whipped-for-fictionals @morganadorodo @briluvspnk @venderretta @xiaosoneandonly @angeilix @morgyyyyyyy @kazioli @the-massive-simp @qtange @tiredjxnna @yuminako @acheronie @sn1perz @akitokisser @siu-ssi @artri-ad @hyeinszn @saeskiss @bubblegum-angelquartz @boomie-123 @moni11032 @sandwichmyonetruelove @cherrybb-ily @itztaki @dontmindtheevie @hotgirlshit5 [1/2]

[theendless22]

I Know Places…

Summary: In the third quarter quell, tensions run high, and time is ticking. It’s your last opportunity to confess your feelings to Peeta before it’s too late, but the cameras are watching, and they love a good show. It’s a good thing you know places. (Not proof read, sorry!)

Warnings: Mentions of the Prim Reaper, mentions of voyeurism, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex.

Pairings: AFAB x Peeta Mellark

My Masterlist

It’s the first glimpse of dawn in the quarter quell, you’re stood with your feet in the sand, the grainy specks of gold digging inbetween all of your crevices. Head hung low as the sky is painted with pastels. It’s too artificial for your liking, you know someone who’d like it though. Watercolour splotches in the sky look like the painted canvases you’re now all too familiar with, but these splashes of colour aren’t a sight for sore eyes, they’re a soul shattering reminder of the freedom you’ll never get. You find it shameful that your favourite colour isn’t orange, otherwise you could’ve learnt to grow appreciation for the sunset.

You stand with your hand on my waistline

You don’t even need to turn around to know who’s graced you with the featherlight touches, slender fingers burning patterns into your skin, marking you. You glance over your shoulder, your hand shielding your eyes from the golden rays. Your gaze once fixed on the rippling water splashing against your ankles, now narrowed as you gauge the expressions on his face. He’s nervous, you’re sure. Brown puppy dog eyes flickering from your face to your waist, soft smile with a little bit of teeth as he gauges you too. You’re nervous, and he’s sure.

It's a scene, and we're out here in plain sight

“Lovely skyline tonight…” He whispers, giggling as you roll your eyes at him. “I’m not a fan…” You reply, sighing quietly. “Not a fan of the colours?” He quirks a brow at you his hand wrapping round to rub your stomach, almost maternally as he buries his head in the crook of your neck.

Fuck.

You forgot about the whole fake pregnancy thing. You whip your head round, eyes wide as you push Peeta by the chest, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted as he topples over, falling to his knees, he gasps in shock.

“Knock it off.” You mutter under your breath, becoming self aware of the numerous cameras documenting your every motion, you glance around, frowning when you realise your “allies” are staring right back at you.

“What was that for?” Peeta mutters, looking up at you from his spot on the sand. He runs a hand through his hair, returning to his feet again. Confusion etched on his face as he steps closer to you.

“You know I’m not good at acting right?” You ask softly, soft eyes pleading with him as you trail your hand down his arm, interlocking your hand with his. He nods at you, squeezing your hand in reassurance. “I just…I’m finding it hard pretending, that we’re…something.” You whisper, your gaze dropping to your feet, you kick at the sand in frustration.

The large hand gripping your chin like a vice, tilting it upwards takes you back to the time when he touched you like this, and you have a hard time deciding if you like it or not. “Everybody is watching and I-I know we have a reputation to uphold but I…I don’t like that people will think it’s real.” A stray tear rolls down your cheek,

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

“You don’t want him to think that, do you? You don’t want Gale to think it’s real, do you?” His voice raises slightly, unable to withhold his disappointment and frustration, eyebrows raised as his hand drops from your face. You screw your eyes together, pouting at the mention of his name. It’s not like you liked Gale in that way, not anymore at least, it’s just easy to persue someone like Gale, convenient. You’re not much of a risk taker, and Gale’s not much of a risk, you think it’s better to play it safe than to be starry eyed like Peeta.

But you know the other tributes are staring at you now, and you dread to think what Finnick and Johanna have to say about this ordeal, regardless of if they can hear you or not, your face drains of colour at the thought of everyone finding out that the relationship you and Peeta have is a lie, that your pregnancy is a lie. You don’t like lying because you know the consequences of it all too well.

Somethin' happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

“Peeta I-…” You stutter, cradling your face with your hands to shield your defeated face from prying eyes. “You don’t want the Capital to think this is real, do you?”

'Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

He sighs, gently holding your hands, slowly pulling them away from your face. His thumb trails across your cheek, swiping the salty droplets away before they have a chance to resurface. “I understand.” He mutters

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

“It’s hard to pretend to be in something you’re not, I get it.” He cradles your cheek, smiling sadly at you as you flutter your eyes open to look at him, his face drops. “Pretend to be in something I’m not?” You whisper, eyebrow raised in confusion. He pauses, his eyes sunken as a single tear slides down his soft cheek, voice croaking as he whispers “In love.”

And we run

You grab his hand and pull, fingers interlocking as the skyline etches away, replaced by the tall sways of green foliage in the forest. Stares of your newfound allies and the surveillance of the Capital and the people in Panem long forgotten in the back of your mind as you lead Peeta deeper.

Baby, I know places we won't be found, and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

“Where are w-“ Peeta’s voice trails off as you push up against a tree, chest pressed against his as lips attack his in a wordless promise, hands cupping his face. Your thumbs glide across the chubby flesh of his cheek, caressing so soft because you’re scared he’s going to break.

I know places

His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer, his soft lips departing from yours, foreheads resting against each other. “You’re right.” You whisper, eyes screwing shut as you sigh, your hands on the base of his shoulders. “I am in love.” Peeta sighs, his hold on your waist faltering. “I can’t pretend this is real because I don’t want to pretend, what I feel is real.” You give him an eskimo kiss, maintaining eye contact with him. “What I feel with you…is real.” You whisper, leaning up, your lips ghosting over his before you press against him again.

they take their shots, but we're bulletproof

Tears of an angel drip down onto your own face, you whine against his lips, pulling away to kiss the salty streams away instead, one by one until they no longer come back. He smiles at you, hoisting you up into the air, you wrap your legs around his waist, allowing him to gently sink to his knees, laying you down onto the floor.

I know places

He takes his time with you, because you both know in the end it’s only momentary. Large hands shifting you to your side, pulling the zipper to your bodysuit down, one hand on your stomach as he slides it off your shoulders. He kisses the exposed skin, gently nibbling on your neck. “Peeta..” You gasp, legs bent as you thread your hand into his hair, fear racking through your body when you wonder if this is being documented. You don’t even have to say anything before he reassures you, knowing just by your gaze “I know sweetheart, I know.” He whispers into your ear, hands ghosting over your bodysuit, and then he peels it off altogether. Soft lips dipping to suck on your nipple, his right hand cupping your other breast, rolling the other nipple with deft fingers. You whimper, eyes shut in pleasure.

It’s slightly darker out now, but you feel light. The orange sky highlights the contours of Peeta’s face. His brown eyes complimented by the soft hue. And when his head sinks between your thighs, kissing higher and higher up to your core, you can’t help but sigh. And then he touches you there. Hands digging gently into your hips, pressing you against his face as he kitten licks your clit.

He touches you, and it feels like you want to get married.

and you know for me, it's always you

You writhe beneath him, tugging at his hair with weak hands as you arch and moan. “Please…” You whisper, prying his face away from your core. He licks his lips, humming softly at the taste as he stands up. Peeling his own bodysuit off. Each inch of exposed skin is kissed by you, worshiped by your delicate hands. Your touch feels like heaven, and he smiles, he’s found his faith.

I know places

Hands trailing down his chest you pump his cock, mimicking his movements from before, kitten licking the tip. He threads his hands in your hair, stroking your hair as he whimpers. “You don’t have to do this for me…” You interject him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. Please.” You whisper, pleading with him with a small pout on your lips. He nods softly, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, he watches you with patient eyes. You wrap your lips around him, maintaining eyecontact as you bob up and down his length. He moans, hand gripping tighter in your hair.

in the dead of night, your eyes so brown

Just like you did, he pulls you off, hand on the back of your head, the other on your waist as he places you down once again, you whine in protest and he giggles, prying your legs apart for his view only. “You’re beautiful, I forgot to tell you.” He whispers, slides in between your plump thighs. He rubs his length teasingly up and down your clit. You moan softly, hands trailing up and down his toned stomach. “Can I?” He whispers, hand on your breast as he dips down to kiss you again. All you can do is nod, watching as his eyebrows furrow as you looks at you. “You’re already pregnant so it’s okay if I…” He whispers teasingly, a smile of amusement gleaming in the moonlight. “Come inside.” You blush, tilting your head to the side to avert his burning gaze. Your surroundings fading into a meaningless blur as he sinks inside.

I know places

You moan loudly, his hand slapping over your mouth as he stills inside of you. “Gotta be quiet for me, ‘kay? Can’t have anyone hear us.” He whispers in your ear, teeth pulling gently at your earlobe as he slowly pumps in and out of you, hips pressing against the back of your thighs everytime he’s inside fully. “Peeta…if they can see us then why does it matter if they can hea- oh..” Words die in your throat as he circles your clit, his chapped lips marking you with love bites.

“Because I want you to be mine…my ears only that get to hear your cute little sounds, my hands only allowed to touch…” He pants, moaning and whimpering in the crook of your neck as he thrusts deeper and faster. You thread your hand in his hair, massaging his scalp as you claw at his back, moans of his name leaving your lips like a sacred prayer. “I’m yours, only yours.”

You feel the coil tightening in your stomach. You try to repress your noise but you can’t help it, you clench around his length, moaning softly as you orgasm. He follows shortly after, his warm seed pushed deep inside of you as he thrusts a few more times, prolonging your orgasm. You pull him by the nape of his neck, tongues clashing as you kiss desperately. He pulls out with a groan, his hands on your hips as his head hangs low. He grins at you, peppering your face with sloppy kisses as you giggle.

and I know for you, it's always me

You touched him and it feels like you know that he wants to get married.

He cradles you next to him, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hand tracing patterns on your back. He chuckles softly, beaming brightly at you, eyes full of gratefulness. You lay there and start to giggle too, hand on his chest as you both stare at the sky.

“What’s your favourite colour?” He whispers, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “What?” You ask him in confusion, your eyebrows furrowed. “Your favourite colour, what is it? I’ve never asked.” He whispers, loving eyes staring into yours.

You hesitate, thinking deeply about it before responding.

“Orange.”

I know places

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Hi! I really like your stories and I saw that requests were open, may I ask for a David or Marko X fem reader where they use like vampire mind powers on her? Could be soft or angst

Totally fine if you're not comfortable with it!

Hi! Thank you for requesting (and sorry for the wait. I had to finish uo some chapters of Changes before i lost the inspiration). I hope you like this!💜

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

I was not a risk taker. That much I knew. I'd never speed while driving, I'd never trust someone blindly. I'd never went into a test, knowing I hadn't studied well. I never left anything up to chance, always trusting my own gut instinct more than I did anyone else. I never did anything without calculating the outcome first. So no, I did not take risks.

And yet, here I was, going out on what must now be my twenty-somethingth date with him. The ultimate risk taker. Seriously, if anyone was taking risks, it was him. Marko just loved irking people on and pissing them off just to see what would happen. He loved riding his bike, jumping over gaps and chasms he could find, laughing it off if it almost went wrong. He loved the thrill of the chase, the adventure, the unknown - and somehow that led him to me. Or me to him, I wasn't sure.

As much as all these things terrified me, I liked him. How could I not after dating him for quite some time, hanging out almost nightly and going on official dates every once in a while. He was funny charming, caring - and of course excelling at terrifying the living shit out of me by doing some weird stunt.

"Trust me, you're going to be fine."

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him. "I don't think cliff diving is a good idea when it's day. You really want me to do it at night?"

I looked down from the cliff we were standing on, looking down at the roaring waves clashing against sharp stones.

"I am with you," he turned to me, giving me a soft smile as he took my hand, "what's the worst that could happen?"

"I'd die by hitting those rocks? Or I drown? I've even heard of someone getting paralysed by hitting the water wrong, so-"

"I won't let that happen to you."

I rolled my eyes as i saw how much he struggled to not laugh. "I'm being serious, Marko! I don't think it's smart-"

"When is the last time you left things to chance?"

I shrugged, sitting down and letting my legs hang over the edge. "Can't remember."

"Must be stressful."

Marko sat down next to me.

"I don't know, it's what I'm used to. I'm just - I'm not a risk taker, you know?"

He chuckled, pulling me close. "I know. But I need you to trust me, just this once."

"I don't want to dive."

"I never said anything about diving, you concluded that when we got here."

"You never denied it either!"

He smirked, causing me to sigh as I looked at him. Still, I was curious. "Then what are we here to do?"

"Fly."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You have lost it."

"Come on, you'll love it!"

"Humans can't fly!"

"You know I'm not. And I know you want to. You said it yourself when I asked you about superpowers."

"Yeah, but that was hypothetical. Not real..." I trailed off, not looking at him. He sighed, standing up, offering his hand to me.

"I won't fly off the cliff, but I am going to take you flying."

"But what if-"

"Babe, look at me," Marko stared into my eyes, and I felt a sudden calm wash over me. "You are perfectly safe. You're going to be fine. Do you trust me?"

I blinked as I realised what he was doing. Mind control. And yet, that last question wasn't him controlling me, I realised. It was him asking permission. I nodded slowly, still feeling uncertain, but trusting him regardless.

Marko smiled, hugging me close before I felt the ground disappear from beneath my feet. I closed my eyes, too scared to look, but as Marko had promised, I felt perfectly safe.

"You can open your eyes, you know."

With an uncertain smile I did, looking at him and then at the sky around us. We weren't flying too high, only about six feet. If I fell, I would probably only be a little bruised - but I'd be fine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I nodded softly, adjusting my grip. Marko chuckled, landing slowly.

"That wasn't that bad, was it?"

I shook my head, hugging him tightly. "I just don't like taking leaps of faith."

"Babe," Marko looked at me, "why would you say that in such an apologetic tone? I don't fucking care. You teach me to become a little more careful, I teach you to become more care free-"

"Have I made you more careful?"

"You'd have a heart attack if you'd seen how I drove before meeting you."

I looked at him wide eyed. "I already have to fight a heart attack with how you drive!"

"Imagine," he said, giving me a kiss on my forehead as we walked back to his bike, "How bad it was before."

[avocado-writing]

I had this thought this morning and I have had no peace since and I have to share it with somebody!

I think that Wyll, because he has spent his life being very kind and restrained (something it feels like he forces on himself sometimes, even when it would be healthier to let himself react with other "negative" emotions), would actually get a lot of pleasure from taking a dominant role if you were to bring BDSM into your relationship. I think it would be the first time he ever let himself be "cruel". His favorite is teasing and edging you relentlessly until you feel like you're on the edge of madness, and only once you are a pleading whimpering mess, begging him for release, does he give it to you. If he's feeling extra mean, he'll overstim you after all of that teasing, telling you how beautiful you look as you cum for him repeatedly. I just feel like it would give him a sense of control and release over any negative feelings he feels like he has to suppress in his day-to-day. And of course the aftercare is top notch with this man, so sweet and tender. He loves you so much, and goes back to being a ray of sunshine after reducing you to a babbling mess. Of course there are just as many times where he is just the most tender partner in bed, I just think it would be such a healthy release for him and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, I love him so much.

I don't have the writing skills to make a fic of this, but I'm hoping someone who does feels inspired by this so I can read one, hehe.

~🪷

rated e, minors dni

Your husband must be a devil, for he certainly acts like one on nights like this.

“Please, please, please…” you murmur, sex alight with need, limbs splayed out and restrained to the four posters of the bed. You trust Wyll absolutely but that doesn’t mean he won’t reduce you to a needy mess. Together it is one of your favourite pastimes: he allows himself to be a little more dominant, a little more wicked, and you lay back as he teases you to madness.

“Please what…?” he asks, his mouth breathing a trail of warmth down your thigh. You attempt to clasp his head between your legs but are thwarted by the soft silk bindings. You mewl in frustration.

“I need to come, Wyll, please let me come…”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure if you deserve it… have you been good enough?” he mutters, thinking it over playfully. You harrumph. You’re not sure how long he’s kept you like this for. Not enough for you to lose the feeling in your ankles and wrists - he is surely too attentive to let that happen - but enough that your sex is aching, desperate to be sated, calling out for your husband’s touch like it would be the sweetest salve.

From between your legs, Wyll looks up and you and grins. He has the loveliest smile, even when he is trying to drive you out of your mind with pleasure and need in equal measure.

He is delightful. He is evil.

Four times? Five? He’s taken you to the edge and left you there with his clever tongue, skillful fingers, then just let your release ebb away again. All you know is lust for him. When his tongue traces you, you yelp.

“Please! Please, Wyll! Please let me come, I need you! I’ve been good!”

As if he was waiting on those magic words he finally dips his head down and lets his mouth finish the job. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to sweep over you and he laps up every drop you give him - and it is a lot. You’ve eked this out for a while, after all.

It hits you so hard that your vision goes black and then bursts with stars, your climax a wave over your body, quenching a drought he brought on you. He is both giver and taker like this, and truly you’d have it no other way. You’ve never come so hard in your life since your husband revealed this side of himself.

You remember when he first suggested it: he was so worried, so quiet., as if you’d reject him outright and consider him a villain It was a side you hadn’t expected from him but you were thrilled. You’d snapped the book you were holding shut and made him tie you up immediately. Ever since then this side of him would rear its head, and you were always more than happy to accommodate him…

As you come down from your high, you’re aware of Wyll undoing the ties around you. Your arms and legs relax into the mattress and he wraps you up in his embrace before feeding you a glass of water which he always keeps next to the bed. You drink it down thirstily and nuzzle into his chest. He laughs, his kind self back, the ruthless persona he slips into banished for the night.

“Are you alright?” he asks, voice soft and full of concern. When you nod enthusiastically he chuckles again, and you can hear it from inside his ribs along with his heartbeat. A lovely melody.

“Well, I could probably sleep for about twelve hours after that orgasm, but apart from that I’m fine.” 

Wyll smiles and begins to gently massage the skin where the knots lay, soothing you in body and soul.

“If that’s what you desire, then sleep, my love.”

You bury yourself deeper into the safety of him and indulge.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @snoozeeebee

[straykids-97]

My insomnia is really bad right now and I would love nothing more than for bang chan or lee know to fuck me to sleep.

Just make me so exhausted I pass out in minutes and enter a time of bliss.

Dear lord 🥵 (warnings are below the cut btw NSFW)

I feel like Chan is the type to slowly fuck you to bed, and then Lee Know is the type to exhaust you. Like c’mon. Chan is naturally a giver and Minho is a taker. And lord have mercy take the fckin wheel- I’m soft for both. I’d literally sell my soul for either of these men- (and also Mingi🩷🫶🏻)

Chans just fine asf for being so soft like- 😭 ⬇️⬇️ HES SO CUTE I CANT- I’m such a simp for this man that it’s disgusting.

Lee know is a damn menace. He knows it- we know it. Like, he doesn’t hide it. He enjoys tormenting us. You can see it in the way he smiles. MAN IS A TEASE- I will pass away bc I wouldn’t be able to withstand his wrath istg.

Warnings: soft channie 😭🫶🏻, unprotected sex, fluff 🫶🏻, rough sex (if you squint) cute minho, after care

A.N- unedited so I apologize heh. Anyway, enjoy and thx for the submission!!

Chan

Tossing and turning is something Chan is very much used to. In fact, he probably wrote the definition of insomniac. However, even though Chan is used to the struggle of counting sheep, he doesn’t like seeing the one he loves most share the same fate. As Chan sits at his desk peacefully writing as the time passes midnight, he usually finds solace in the soft snores that come from your parted lips.

But tonight, they haven’t come.

He pauses humming to himself and turns to watch your resting form. He carefully watches your chest to see if it was rising and falling softly to find that you were restlessly fidgeting with the blanket instead. Chan frowns at the sight of your fist balled up in frustration, “What’s wrong baby?” He murmurs. You let out a drawn out sigh, “Can’t sleep.” You grumble. The long period of silence had left your voice slightly gruff and you clear your throat before you speak again, “I think maybe today was just too exciting.” Chan coos at you as he stands from his chair, chooching across the floor in cute short steps toward you.

Slipping his jacket off and sliding in bed next to you, he pulls you to his bare chest, “Maybe this will help?” He offers. You curl into his arms and lay your head against the warm skin of his chest, “maybe.” You sigh, trying to rest finally. You try, to no avail, to fall asleep. Even though Chan is playing with the ends of your hair, which normally instantly makes you fall asleep, isn’t helping. And neither is the rumble of his chest as he hums your favorite song. You sigh, “Chan.” You whine, finally giving up. Chan peeks down at you, “What’s wrong baby?”

“I can’t sleep.” You cry, pressing your face in his neck. Chan giggles, squeezing you tightly to his chest. “Awh, it’s ok.” He says, trying to hide his giggles as you speak into his skin, your voice muffled, “my brain just won’t shut off.” Chan stops laughing and pulls away from you. You look up at him to see that he has a playful glint in his eye. “What?” You ask making him grin, “I have an idea…” he trails off, his right hand sliding down your side, groping your ass. You shove at his shoulder softly, “Channie! That’ll wake me up!”

“But it’ll make you sleepy.” He giggles sleepily, biting his lip as he leans in to kiss you.

This is where you find yourself now; back flush against Chan’s bare chest, his hand digging into your thigh to hold it up. He groans softly into your neck, his curls tickling your ear as he buries his face into your throat. His cock is hitting that gooey spot that only he managed to find. You try to hide your soft moans as he holds you close with his other hand splayed across your abdomen, cupping one of your breasts. “Fucking-fuck!” Chan moans, biting your shoulder as you dig your nails into his hip. You meet his hips, grinding back into him; just as desperate to find the high he was chasing as well.

It didn’t take long before Chan had to cover your moans so the other members of the house didn’t hear you. You shudder as you come down, Chan pulling out of you, watching you very carefully as you settle into the sheets. You look too peaceful to disturb by cleaning up right now. You could do that in the morning when you woke up. Right now, he settled beside you, propping himself up to watch you fall asleep.

Minho

Typically, Minho has no trouble getting you to bed. But tonight was different.

As usual, he’s up reading the book he was almost finished with, the light of his lamp casting a soft warm glow around the room. Usually the sound of your slow breathing would make Minho grow tired, but the lack thereof made him turn slightly to watch you. Your back to him, he can notice that you were restless. “Y/n?” Minhos soft voice murmurs. At first you don’t reply, hoping maybe you could pretend to be asleep, but he doesn’t buy it.

You feel a warm hand on your shoulder, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you sleeping?” He pleads. You lament, “I’m just anxious.” You admit, turning to look at him as he pulls his glasses off his face. “What about?” You shrug, “I’m not sure. Just am.” You fidget as he ticks his book next to his glasses, “Do you want to talk? Maybe that will help you sleep?” You shake your head, “No.” he thinks for a moment. “Do you wanna…” he trails off, giving you a teasing smile. You giggle as he attacks your neck, nibbling and sucking as he wraps his arms around your body.

After losing your clothes, you find yourself face down in Minho’s pillows, his hand holding your head down, “Fuck!” Minho growls, snapping his hips against yours viciously. Your brain had numbed a long time ago around the third orgasm. He really was about to fuck you stupid. Not that you could process that right now. You were trying to keep your face from being smothered by the pillow.

Minho grabs a fist full of your hair, yanking you up and holding your hip with his other hand. You feel his teeth dig into the space between your shoulder blades, his chest pressing against your skin as he marks you. You let out a shrill whimper as he snakes his hand around to your front, rubbing your swollen bud aggressively. You gasp, your eyes rolling back as yet another orgasm rips through your limp body. From how Minho held you, he was close. “Baby-“ he groans one last time before stuttering to a stop.

You both pant for a while, before he slides out of you, rolling over to grab a few wipes and cleaning the mess between your thighs. He follows suit before discarding the mess in the trash. Minho rolls over and pulls you to his chest and you happily allow him to hold you there. “What’s running around that pretty head now?” He asks smuggly. You giggly dumbly and shake your head. He chuckled, “That’s what I thought.”

©️straykids-97

😵‍💫

[tiredlilguy]

Hii! I hope you’re doing well in college :)

If it’s alright to do x reader, can you write about having a romantic relationship with the flags? I rlly liked your hcs so I thought to make a flags request ! Here’s some questions to help you out

-Can they cook? - Are they affectionate? -Cuddling, big spoon or little spoon? -Are they good at comforting you?

If you do not want to do this request, you do not have too! Please take your time I don’t mind!

ASDLFJAHLSDKJFHLAKDSJFH i had to pick this one up immediately despite me having so many drafts. im boutta eat this shit up, the flags are actually literally my favorite. ty for requesting this (ノ・∀・)ノ this is very long... it's 6 pages on my document right now...

pairing(s): The Flags (separately) x GN!Reader cw: slightly suggestive for iceman and chuuya's, not proofread desc: romantic hc's with the flags, the real question is though, can albatross cook? (spoiler: no, he can't)

Pianoman:

he’s always busy, but strangely enough, whenever you ask, he’s always free

for some reason, whenever you’re in the room you’re like… the only thing on his mind and he forgets whatever he was doing before

I can see pianoman being a huge sweetheart for some reason

like… He’s the leader of the Flags, but at the same time he kind of acts like a care-taker a little bit

he just cares very deeply for his comrades and you, of course

his love languages are quality time and acts of service, but he likes to receive physical touch

this man is touch starved, so please give him a little hug when he’s stressing over deadlines and being hard on himself (since he’s a perfectionist)

speaking of physical touch: he LOVES back hugs, receiving them and giving them

he’ll be looking over at some copies of fake notes that he was working on with a frown on his face and -oh- there’s his sweet little bug squeezing him so much that he completely forgot what he was doing (he doesn’t care though, he loves you)

he’s only really affectionate when you both have a moment alone, but he won’t complain if you want a kiss or for him to hug you for a moment

when you two are alone though, he likes to give you surprise kisses or hugs; tends to be really clingy sometimes depending on how tired he is, but if you want space, he’ll listen to you

I feel like sometimes though, if he does initiate PDA, he likes to tease you: if you’re sitting on his lap, he’ll put a hand on your thigh, but then it’ll slowly trail up a little bit higher when he thinks your not paying attention, if he puts his head on your shoulder while you’re talking to someone, he might leave butterfly kisses on the side of your neck

he likes to tease you for sure, and isn’t satisfied until your a tomato…

nicknames for him… I think he’d use nicknames that are a little dorky because he likes to embarrass you, saying: “love bug” or “hot stuff” or “steady” (really old ass, from the 50’s nicknames)

“ You know, (Y/N) likes to call me studmuffin,” he brags to Chuuya, nudging the poor boy on the elbow.

“ Please leave me alone.”

I had to make the stupid reference… im sorry LMFAO

but when he’s feeling a little romantic, he’ll call you “honey”

he’s definitely good at comforting you, considering that he literally drops everything just to pay attention to you

will study every detail on your facial expression the moment that you walk in the room, but if you’re in a bad mood he won’t push you

gives you a back hug and a small kiss on the side of your head and asks if you’re ok and if you want anything

listens if you want to vent, or will leave you alone if you want. Anything you need? He’s there to take care of you.

just want to cry and lay down for a bit, that’s fine with him. He’s not the best singer, but he tries to hum to you

can he cook? He can, but I can also see him just preferring to order take out

at the end of the day, he tends to just be really tired, so cuddling up on the couch with you and some take out is enough for him (if you cook, even better, but he might want to help because he feels bad)

he’s a big spoon

when I saw that question I was like: How does this man sleep? In my brain, he’s a side sleeper, and he’d prefer to be the big spoon

when he’s drifting off to sleep, he likes to whisper sweet nothings to you

though, does he sleep? No not really, you have to drag him way from his desk and if he doesn’t budge just kiss him on the forehead and tell him to join you (he’ll end up joining you like 5 minutes later)

in conclusion, sweet bf, but also busy and tired (please give him forehead kisses)

Lippman:

Lippman is romantic as fuck

like you cannot tell me he’s got the rizz, Doc literally said he has a silver tongue (what else that tongue do *cough*)

he’s always holding your hand in his

his hands are very warm and gentle, and when he holds yours, he’s holding it very gingerly, not tugging too hard and only squeezing your hand to comfort you

love languages are gift giving and physical touch, he loves receiving words of affirmation

being an actor with may fans abroad, he hears a lot of praise from others, but none of their words mattered nearly as much as yours do

like you could just be complimenting him on how he styled his hair one day, and it’s like… the only thing he’s talking/thinking about

early on in your relationship together, he was quite shy actually: didn’t really initiate affection because sitting next to you made him feel nervous, but one day you grasped for him hand and now he just never let go

like I’m telling you, if you two are at home, he will not let go of your hand (even when he’s cooking)

speaking of cooking, he’s an amazing cook, but he’s also (similar to pianoman) busy as hell

he often likes to cook with you, enjoying your presence and closeness as you both work together to make a nice meal

he’s fine with PDA, but only if it’s PG… like he gets shy kissing you on the lips in public, but he’ll hold your hand (because he loves your hands :) )

if you initiate PDA, he won’t complain though

he’s far too shy to tell you no, and he also enjoys making you happy

seeing you happy makes him happy

nicknames for you are old romantic, but not in a dorky way. He likes to use nicknames in a different language sometimes: “mon cherié”, “cariño”

he also definitely uses “darling” and if he’s in a more excited mood, he calls you “sunshine” or “my flower”

“ There’s my pretty sunshine!,” he’d smile, as you’d run up to him and give him a hug.

comfort from him is >>>

he seems shy, but when he gets worried about you, he sort of goes into mom mode

he’s a little pushy, but if he notices you’re upset, he stops immediately

will hold you if you’re upset, and he has a sweet voice, so hearing him talk or sing will calm you down immediately

after comforting you, he’d take care of you for the rest of the day

you have work to do at home? No, you don’t, he’s going to make you tea and tell you how well beautiful you are

I can see him being very strict about his sleep schedule

he cringes at the thought of himself having wrinkles because he slept the wrong way, so he tries to go to bed at a certain time and wakes up at a certain time (mafia orders and job stuff are an exclusion though)

sometimes he goes to sleep earlier than you do, but he doesn’t mind if you interrupt him to crawl under his arms

for him, he definitely prefers to face you his sleep: he can see you face when he wakes up and nothing will make him happier

if he’s really tired though, he might like burying his head in your chest as your massaging his head with your hands

he’ll let out a soft groan before falling right to sleep

he doesn’t mind holding you either though: you being the little spoon or resting your head on his chest

likes to kiss your eyelids before he goes to bed ;;-;;

soft romantic bf, can be shy, but he tries this best to make you happy

doesn’t care just as long as there’s a smile on your face

Iceman:

Iceman is very much a lone wolf, but with you it’s “I literally hate everyone else, but I will give the world to you”

he can and will kill for you, rest assured you are very protective

though despite his rough exterior, he’s a kind man

honestly, he doesn’t really care so much for PDA, but he gladly accepts any form of affection you give him

he’s most likely not the one that initiated it, but the only time’s he does is if he’s talking with the others: he often gestures for you to come over to sit on his lap (and you do so, because who would say no-)

or if he doesn’t initiate PDA, it’s usually out of jealousy or to show people that your his

like let’s say you’re talking with someone for a bit too long, he’s probably going to slide a hand on your waist and giving you a soft kiss on the cheek, telling you that you both have to leave (you got no where to go, he’s just wants you attention instead-)

this man has the best kisses, like if anything those are what make your heart flutter the most

it doesn’t matter what kind of kiss he gives you: one of the cheek, a short peck, etc, it still makes you feel somewhat flustered and a tomato (which he grins at)

he doesn’t seem like the type, but he likes to tease you in more of a subtle way.

You were putting on a pair of pants and adjusting them at your hips: zipping up the front zipper and button. You then reached over to the side to find a belt, only to realize that it wasn’t there. Suddenly, hands slipped around your waist and you realized that Iceman was doing you belt for you.

“ These pants compliment your waist quite well,” he whispered gently into your ear. It almost sounded like a bit of a growl. You felt your chest flutter as you let him do his thing. Though before anything else happened, he buckled your belt together and slipped his hands away, walking away as if nothing happened.

nicknames for you are simple. He doesn’t want to do anything more ambitious and he feels proud that he can call you simple nicknames: “love” and “babe” or “baby”

those nicknames make you feel flustered either way… so I mean

He notices you trying to reach something that was on the top shelf, but stops you. Getting you off the counter, and reaching for it himself,” Let me help you, Love.”

he’s the kind of man that lana del ray writes in her music *cough*

he LOVES YOUR WAIST: he’s always touching it

sometimes he’ll place a gentle hand on the side of your waist while passing you, he’ll take any chance he can to pick you up by the waist (and sit you down on the kitchen counter *cough*), slow dancing with his hands resting just a top your hips while you both listen to his old records

he’s just… always touching ur waist all the time

likes to do a lot of the heavy work for you like if you’re moving something large, or carrying bags

he only does it because he knows you’re entirely capable, he just doesn’t want you to ever lift a finger if he’s around

love languages are physical touch and acts of service

he’s a sweet comforter, but he most likely doesn’t say much

he’s always listening and he’ll do whatever you ask of him, but he just prefers actions over words

will hold you until you fall asleep if you were crying, he wipes your tears too :(

will not feel rested until your completely asleep next to him

the way he holds you is definitely you laying on his chest with your ear to his heart while he’s lying on his back with an arm slung around your waist

definitely does that really sweet thing where he’ll caress your side in circles

he smokes before he goes to bed, but if it bothers you, he’ll stop (or just smoke outside)

always makes sure that before he leaves for work that you’re awake (even if you’re half-awake), happy, and with a cup of tea/coffee

conclusion: lone wolf kind of lover aka everything that I want *cough*

Doc:

I feel like in a romantic relationship to him, there are very few moments where it seems romantic to the public eye

though in between you two, I can see it being very shy love

he tends not to initiate much affection, but you can quite literally see it in his eyes that he’s begging

at first, it seemed rather creepy and you thought he didn’t like you all that much, but in reality he was just silently asking for your attention

Doc is the kind of person that stands… really really close to you, so much that you’re a little bit uncomfortable and when you turn around and look at him, he smiles

he doesn’t initiate PDA at first, allowing you to show affection

he loves receiving head pats from you, it makes him feel proud of himself

though, when he started getting comfortable between the two of you, he likes to lay on you

like I’m talking… laying on your thighs, head on your shoulder, he likes to lean on you

since he’s rather sickly, he tends to be really cold quite often, so to him, you’re his personal heater

isn’t one to kiss you on the lips unless he’s feeling really passionate: a kiss on the cheek or on the forehead is enough for him

usually prefers to receive affection then give it, BUT he’s working on it, and for now standing next to him is enough

love language is very much quality time

he just likes to sit next to you, even if you’re not touching or saying anything

the silence with him is always comfortable with him, doesn’t matter what you’re both doing

the nicknames that he uses are really simple, but weird, yet strangely sweet like “happy pill” or “bug”

As he enters your room, he crosses his arms as he looks around for you. “ Hey, where’s my happy pill…WOAH-!”

You quickly tackled him into a hug. Though not hard enough for him to fall over. Doc let out a small smile as you hugged him albeit a little roughly.

his comforting doesn’t really come out very often

for example: let’s say you get injured

he’ll turn into a completely different person, rather serious and focused when he’s treating you

but if you are in pain, he���ll be holding onto you gently as he’s trying to patch you up

he hushes you if you wince from the pain

can he cook? Nope, and he doesn’t really try to either

because he’s a doctor, he tends to be busy and doesn’t really have much time to take care of himself

so either his subordinates deliver food to him, or you deliver him food (which he’s very grateful for)

I can see him being the kind of person who sleeps on his back, or on you… like from earlier

he’ll very easily fall asleep on your lap if you hand is touching his hair, but to be honest he’ll sleep anywhere

this man does not sleep, so if you offer your shoulder for him to lean on, he’ll most likely knock out

he takes naps anywhere… sleeps anywhere, so it’s quite hard to get him to sleep in a bed

anyways, if you’d like to sleep next to him, he usually lifts his arms so that you can nuzzle into his side as he lies on his back

if you’re too scared to be near him though, he might just hold your hand as you both fall asleep next to each other

he likes watching you sleep though, so sometimes he’ll just prop himself up on a pillow with a book while holding your hand in his other

in conclusion: he’s a quiet and sweet lover

Albatross:

PUPPY LOVE PUPPY LOVE PUPPY LOVE

he quite literally follows you every where

you’re going to the store? Ok, he wants to take you for a ride on his motorcycle. You’re going to go get some coffee at that cafe downstairs? He’s already throwing on his jacket. You’re just getting up to go get another snack? Well, he’s not going to let you leave his arms, so up he goes with you.

he’s always hugging you, doesn’t matter what you’re both doing

greets you with a hug, says goodbye with a hug, will just… hug you if you’re standing within proximity of him

I can also see Albatross taking his little furry jacket vest thing and putting it on you, as well as his sunglasses

no, you cannot argue with him, he’s going to do it anyways if you’re both having a casual moment together

as you can see from just now, he LOVES PDA

he loves to receive it, loves to give it

he’s always holding your hand, or waist, or has his head on your shoulder or on top of your head if you’re standing in front of him, is always hugging you

once again, no you cannot argue with him, he will probably cry, you haven’t tried to argue with him though… but you have a feeling that he would cry

sometimes you tend to forget that he’s behind you, and someone will end up pointing it out (usually Chuuya… the other Flags are used to it)

he lets you braid his rat tail and doesn’t take it out until you do, and you only take it out if you want to redo it

love languages are physical touch and quality time, he loves to receive physical touch back (please hug and kiss him, he enjoy it even if it’s a small thing)

can and will take you out for his midnight drives and shenanigans

once dragged you out of bed so that you could both go to the beach and run into the water (you were both still in your night wear, but seeing him laughing and smiling made you happy too)

he likes driving a lot faster than normal just so that you can cling onto him, his makes butterflies go absolutely HAM in his stomach

nicknames for you are cutesy, he doesn’t really like traditional nicknames and sometimes they remind him of Lippman and it makes him cringe

he likes to call you “Dumpling” or “Marshmallow”… maybe he’s just hungry, I don’t know

“ Dumplin’, can you pass me the wrench that’s in that toolbox next to you over there?”

speaking of wrenches, he feels happy whenever you visit him at his garage

you can just sit there and listen to him talk for hours on end while he fixes things up

he leaves his toolbox next to you on purpose just so that you can hand it to him

I can imagine that if you hand him a tool and he’s laying on his back under a car on one of those rolley cart things

instead of reaching out for it with his hand, he’ll quickly roll up and take it from you, but not before swiping his stained hand on your cheek and giving you a quick kiss

he’s just silly… and he likes to give you little form of affection

DO NOT LET THIS MAN COOK OH MY GOD

he may be great at cars and boats and planes, but do not let him cook

he will somehow find a way to burn the kitchen by just touching the pan with the stove off

though despite being a shitty cooker, he’s a big foodie

he loves to eat literally everything and tries new things because he heard a review

if you bring him to a new restaurant, he’ll be taking photos of his food and be reviewing it as he eats it

I can see him sleeping sprawled out on the bed, if you join him, he’ll unconsciously cling onto you like a magnet

he’s a pretty deep sleeper, but he’s always looking for you in his sleep

if you leave, he’ll whine and try to look for you even if with his eyes closed

in conclusion: he’s very much in his puppy love era, and his face is always red when he’s talking to you… he’s a blushy boy around you

Chuuya:

he’s very much a tsun, so it might be quite hard for him to get close to you, or even show affection

though, just know that despite how much he acts like he doesn’t like your affection, he recretly loves it

he fell first and harder mind you

he treats you like literal royalty behind closed doors though

Chuuya’s not really one for PDA, and he’s not going to initiate it under any circumstance

the only reason is because he has a tendency to want to continue to show his rough exterior out in public

he can get kind of awkward if you initiate it, but will relax into it after a while

though, when he greets you in public he’s a gentlemen: he’ll even kiss your hand and lead you places by the hand sometimes

though that’s about it

behind doors though, he’s… so clingy

bike the moment that you close the door, he already has his arms around your waist

if he kisses you anywhere, it’s on your neck, and he does it in the most dramatic way possible

he’ll take one of your hands in his as he’s behind you and he’ll let out a short breathe on your neck before kissing gently

don’t get him wrong though, he still loves to kiss your lips

if anything, he’s addicted to your taste

love languages are gift giving and acts of service

I just know this man will literally get you anything just to make you happy

expensive jewlery? No problem, baby. You want that coat that’s over a thousand dollars? It’ll be in your closet in a couple of days.

this man is loaded so… (MAKE HIS POCKETS HURT)

he definitely does a lot of things around the house if he’s not busy

the moment that he’s home, all house chores as his now and if you argue with him, he’s going to sit you up on the kitchen counter and uh… yeah.

anyways, he likes to help around the house when he can: if you made dinner, he’s doing the dishes. Even if he made dinner, no, sit down, he’s still going to do the dishes

he simply just doesn’t want you to lift a finger and wants you to sit pretty on the couch and enjoy yourself for a moment

speaking of cooking, yes… he can cook and he’s REALLY good at it

he had no former way of teaching himself other than wanting to find a new hobby, and oh my god if the dishes that he makes aren’t literally amazing

he enjoys cooking dishes that go well with his wine depending on what he felt like drinking from his collection

nicknames that he uses are simple and easy, but they get to the point. He’ll use nicknames like “doll” or “sweet stuff”; not as simple as ice man, but he likes them

He wraps his arms around you as you were cooking dinner,” How was your day, doll? Whatcha makin’?”

I can see him comforting a lot similar to iceman

he’ll listen quietly to literally anything you ask

if you want to be held, he’ll lay down on the couch and hold you in his arms as you’re laying down on top of him

will use his ability to make you both float away from the surface for a moment: something that he used to do that always calmed him down

he likes to caress your hair, so let him when he’s trying to comfort you.

if he’s sleeping with you, he’s definitely a spooner and he is the big spoon

he snores for sure, but he never loosens his grip if he’s holding onto you

sweet boy (-w-)

[soulfulazrael]

My Hellaverse Religions and Marriages. Or how my Asperger made up some odd worldbuilding over the dumbest reason imaginable.

We all know this shot. We all hate this shot (well... I do)

And it's for one, big reason... what the hell are marriages in Hell? Well. I was wondering that too and honestly the answer is very simple... Who gives a shit? Viv wanted a contrived story with forced marriage where Moxxie looks like a total bitch so she did it as well as she could and since she could not do it well it came out how it did.

But it did made me think at least. What would marriages in Hell look like? And that lead me to a downward spiral of thinking up in a few hours how it works and why it works. And here is the result. Ladies and gentleman and all the inbetweens (I don't judge) I present my first rewrite post which I mostly do for myself as a note for future in case dementia catches me like it did with my grandparents. One is dead, the other is dying, but enough about my happy life. Let's get into autistic rambling.

So, before we get to the marriage system I have in mind, first let's delve into another thing. God. Or in this case. Deities. As in my version of HB/HH I write about in my AU there are several of them. All of which are different High authority figures of which the main ones are five and I will name all of them: First one is Lucifer

Who in this version is... not as nice. In fact he is very, VERY cruel being. One that has little qualms about lives of anyone else. A being of Chaos from the times of the Rebellion in Heaven which he lead against God after he corrupted humanity to prove to The Almighty of his superiority, of that he is deserving of love much greater than mortals. Cast out from Heaven alongside all those that took side with him.

Now in Hell he embodies Pride that shaped the top layer of Hell. He is a Deity that preaches ultimate freedom. He preaches the idea of that you deserve all that you want. That every feeling, every desire you feel is correct and that you alone are deserving of those no matter what anyone says, no matter who it hurts. All that is important is you. That is the crux of those who follow him. Hedonists, narcissists, cruel, chaotic beings of pure selfishness who believe in righteousness of their desires and standing up against any authority that wants to keep them away from fulfilling their dreams and when all dreams become reality, there is no other outcome than Chaos which Lucifer adores.

They are called Light Takers. For Lucifer is one who brings light and those who follow him, take said light and all that they want.

That is Lucifer and now let's get to the Deity right under him that sides with him more so than the other one, another creature of Chaos (also be mindful that this is just short summary of those things, I can go more in depth about each one in other posts). Satan:

I don't have a better image as my idea of how he looks is pretty different. I imagine him as a centaur like being with a lower body similar to a bull, more human like torso, a head similar to one on this app with mighty wings and 4 arms. A brutal, relentless deity, one who's philosophy is to spread death and prepare for fight against the Heaven. To drown the world in the blood of his enemies and for the bodies and blood to rise so high so that he can approach the Heaven's gates.

His followers are mostly Imps. Many of them sharing to lesser or greater extent this philosophy of slaughter. It gives them meaning to kill and make their own trail of Blood as they follow in the hoove steps of the Lord of Slaughter. Followers of Blood they are called. A numerous force of berserkers devoted to mindless murder and Chaos.

With all this Chaos there has to be a balance point though right? You'd be correct. As on the opposite end of the Chaos spread by Lucifer and Satan is The Lord Governor:

Lucifuge Rofocale. He is in my version very similar to this depiction, although he very rarely smiles. He is known also as Bitter Governor for his rivalry with Lucifer in which he is mostly ignored by the latter as he tries to gain control over the Chaos of Hell.

He is the creature who values Order more so than anything. He is the Lawmaker. He is the lord of Laws that he writes into his Great Book, many laws there are, some of which contradict each other, some forgotten, other irrelevant. All his. He is the cruelty of order and subjugation incarnate. His name itself Lucifuge is one that was given to him after rebellion in which he took side of Lucifer in order to create a perfect society of his own. A society that was never to be. He who runs from Light for he was a Throne Angel of greater light than any other, a Light so strong he could never know even a smallest shadow. Light that he hated above all and could never fully rid himself off of it's taint.

When he came to Hell his Pride alongside Lucifer's shaped the Entire Ring. Lucifer controls the Central parts where Pentagram City is located and Lucifuge controls outer rings of Pride where his 5 towers on borders of Pride spreading to the blood sky surround the Chaos of Lucifer. His desire of control made manifest. A control he spreads with his Emissaries. Those who follow him and his laws faithfully and spread them with unmatched zeal. And his most faithful and powerful servant is the 4th of the Main Deities. The Silent King of all Ars Goetia.

King Baal. His version in my AU is based on this picture. A creature with lower body of a Spider and torso of a man with head of a King with long hair at the top. Which ever direction he looks, his face changes shape, if to his right it takes form of a cat and left is the frog. Among the deities he alongside Satan were born in Hell and were since time of their Hell's manifestation bitter rivals and his beloved is Queen of Gluttony Beelzebub which is often a target of mockery. A spider who beds a bug instead of eating it, but no care to those words are given, no words... Only silence. Pride was originally meant to be his as it would embody his silence, but it was not to be as the Fall happened and Pride was born from the quiet grounds.

He was named an Ars Goetia by Lucifuge to whom he pledged allegiance to in Silent Promise and ever since his invisible web spread across skies of Pride, woven from threads attached to every life among Ars Goetia and to cut it is to be a Heretic condemned to suffering at the hand of Silent King. Baal's Faithful who are his followers are mostly Ars Goetia. All believing in Hell's security to be utmost priority. To make it safe at any means necessary. To make sure that Hell will be eternal and all who fall into it's flames will never escape it's torment. He is the one who keeps the Ars Goetia in check to follow the laws Lord Lucifuge laid out. For maybe side of Chaos has numbers and ferocity, but Order has power and stability.

A balance that is most crucial to never ending conflict festered by the most enigmatic and possibly most terrible of the Five. Mephistopheles.

Who's looks are as everchanging as interpretations of how he looks. A Demon who fooled the world into believing he was, but a made up Demon in a story about Faust. Always cloaked in shadows creature, that despite looking a lot of times like the most basic denizen of Hell, is anything, but. As his nature is a mystery to all who inhabit it. A creature of Darkness that remembers the time of the first words that is alien to both Heaven and Hell. One that gave Hell it's currency made of Souls it caught with contracts they make on earth. A Creature that always maintains the balance of both sides. Making sure there is never a conclusion to this bitter conflict and flames of Discord never fade. Something that is cherished by his Brethren in Dark.

To be Mephisto's Brethren in Dark is to commune and listen to Mephisto's words. You are what you are. There is no change to that. So live your life as you see fit. Make of your life anything you want. Be it for order or chaos. Be it for your desire or duty. What is important is to know who you are and to believe in his words. It is to be on the side of yours and his and all that you must have will come to you, but the price will have to be paid, but it does not have to come from you now has it? No... You use others as much as you are used. You know that very well. You always will. For you are rotten, but so is everything else. So is that so bad?

There are many other deities. Such as King Paimon, by many considered as one of the if not the mightiest among Kings. A being who's promise of seeing his Labyrinth makes many shudder at the mere thought. Or the Sins who's patronage seek those who live on their rings. But the choice is up to the Hellborn... aside from mostly Hellhounds, who mostly only reside and do labor for the Beelzebub. A Cerberus insect of endless hunger.

But there is one more path. On the side of neutrality is also another side. Hell. To listen to the will of Hell.

Listeners of Hell are those who feel the very wind among the bloody streets. To know intimately the desires of the ground you walk on. To serve Hell as it's listener and to reinforce it's will. This is path for those who seek a different path from all other deities. But to do so is to give all that you are to the home you have. Not to protect, but understand it. Breathe with it and to be a true part of it. Closer than many others.

These are all the paths Hellborn can... or rather have to choose. Because atheism is not possible in this realm. Hellborn have to believe in something otherwise it means they are a traitor to the Hell itself. Whatever one believes in it is up to the Hellborn in question. But the choice it is one Hellborn MUST make.

Now... after this little mythology lesson where does this lead in terms of marriages? Well. The marriage in itself is also a deal between deities. Each side has their own contract that has to be signed by the priest of their respective deity. And each priest is of different kind. Emissary is a political for the most part. Mephisto's Brethren could be of any kind. A soldier of Baal. Hedonistic royal of Lucifer. Berserker of Satan. If both sides worship same deity it means less issues, but both contracts are still required.

Both sides need to sign their respective contract and then place their cut hands on those contracts as they are connected by their blank sides. Letting their blood seep into them as both of them touch them. Letting their blood, believes and word to connect them forevermore, for them both to be servants together. That is unless one has a change of faith which may require redoing of the process at the chance of being shunned by everyone around. For it is a shame to be someone to turns away from their God.

So yeah... This is how I would personally write certain part of Mythology of Hell. I know I did not elaborate on certain other things like Paimon or Sins, but I think this is a good enough of a starting point to the mythology I want to make with 3 sides here. Chaos, Order and Neutrality. All with their own strengths and weaknesses. All with their own stories and people who worship them. All with their own traditions, beliefs and personalities... All of it... because I was iffy by the fucking Exs and Ohs priest. I need serious mental help. This is just sad to look at. Then again if you read this far, I guess we all lost here. Or maybe you liked it. If so then please leave a comment or something. I cherish those. And maybe think of who you would choose to follow.

[starryaugust]

100 au!Dick Grayson - Backstory

Dick’s parents were murdered when he was just a kid, their killer was never found. After their death, Dick was sent to the orphanage.

Very quickly, he noticed how the kids never got enough food. The system was corrupted, their care takers didn’t really care about the kids. The kids were always hungry, including Dick himself.

So, at only 8 year old, he begun stealing food.

He never took anything for himself, everything went to the younger kids.

He managed to not get catched for 8 years. But when he was 16 one of the younger kids was sick and didn’t get enough medicine. So Dick decided to steal them more medicine.

But it wasn’t as easy as stealing food, Dick was arrested and the kid ended up dying.

Not only Dick was locked up, he also felt like it was his fault the kid died.

He spent the next 2 years in the sky box.

A few days before his 18th birthday the guards come to take him, Dick thought he just lost count of time and they were there for his trail. He didn’t even fight, thinking that’s it, it’s his last day.

Instead, he got to the ground.

On the ground, he becomes the leader of the group. Taking care of the rest of the kids.

When they found out people survived to bombs, he tried to negotiate for peace, not wanting to start a war. He didn’t succeed. The 100 ended up going to war with the grounders anyway. And he ended up almost losing everyone he cared about.

When most of the 100 got to mount weather, he was suspicious of their president, Lex Luther. But Luther offered safety, so he and the 100 stayed, even tho some of them didn’t share the same opinion as Dick.

But when Jason disappeared, he decided to investigate.

He found out what mount weather does to the grounders, he was horrified.

He knew they had to escape, for Jason.

[simp2537]

John Wick Fic??

Anyone want a platonic! John wick fix x fem! Reader. Reader is a child assassin gifted to John by the high table before he retired. Any takers?

Here’s a sneak peek 👀

𝙿𝚞𝚙𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚞𝚜

The scent of iron and copper stained the area around him as he lay in the ground. His dark irises looked up at the barrel of the gun in front of his head. Corpses laid around his as he breathed softly.

With every dawn a pupillus is brought home

The girl that stood before him was dressed in an all black suit, perfectly tailored to her. Her hair sleeked back in a ponytail and braided. Her eyes cold and hard, like a killers should be. She couldn’t have been older than ten.

Her face still held that childlike glow that most kids her age had. Her Glock was firmly between his eyes. The man she’d shot before, laid dead at her feet.

“Ты Баба Яга?” The girl asked, her voice that of a pure innocent child. (Are you Baba Yaga?)

With every dusk a pupillus is dead. 

John stared at her and he slowly stood up. Her gun trailed him as he towered over her.

“Yeah.” The girl hummed softly. In a swift movement her gun was in a holster at her side. She let out a small sigh.

“Good, I’m your pupillus.” John froze. A pupillus? A child bought, taken, given and molded into a killer. Only the High Table could grant a person an pupillus. Never in all his life would he think that the High Table would gift him one.

With every star a pupillus conquerors

John nodded softly as he moved a corpse out of her way. She moved next to him in a flash, almost inhumanly fast.

“You got a name kid?” John pondered softly as he began to walk away from the bloody scene. The girl trailed behind him, he couldn’t even hear her steps.

“No.”

John rubbed his face as he opened the door to his car for her. She slide into the car quickly and sat quietly. As John shut the car door he groaned softly. He didn’t ask for this, he didn’t want to have to take care of a kid. But the High Table saw him fit he supposed.

“I like Y/n, think it’s pretty.” John mumbled as they drove towards the Continental. The girl didn’t answer, only furrowed her brow.

“Yes it is pretty.” The girl agreed monotoned. As John drove he would glance at her. She stared out at the city with a small spark in her eyes, liked she’d never seen so many lights before. The girl didn’t speak, she didn’t move, to John it didn’t even look like she was breathing.

She looked almost alien to him. Not that she looked strange but she acted strange. She wasn’t like any child John had ever know, and he supposed she wasn’t. Pupillus were meant to hide in plain sight, she certainly looked like a child….. just not her eyes.

With every comet a pupillus falls

John didn’t know it then but this girl would change his entire life. He would name her, he would love her, he would care for her, and she in turn…. Would destroy for him.

These are the vows of a pupillus

To serve, to die, to kill for our masters for we are pupillus