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#and i for once feel like i can let my guard down around someone
ruthplaysthesims · 3 days
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Carlos woke up in his childhood home once more. Everything seemed normal from the last dream: The house was empty, it was around the same time of day. The only difference? He couldn't hear someone calling out to him. Instead, he heard sobbing. He could hear someone sobbing from the hallway and as he looked out the window, he saw a young boy with his head on the table crying bitterly. Carlos quickly ran down the stairs and out to the front yard.
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Carlos: Hey. Are you okay?
The boy lifted his head and Carlos's expression stiffened. He wasn't looking at anyone.. He was looking at his sixteen year old self. His face was covered in bruises and his lip was busted. The boy looked at Carlos before looking away, not wanting to say anything.
Teen Carlos: Who are you?
Carlos looks at him.
Carlos: I'm you.
Teen Carlos looked at him, looking like he didn't believe him.
Teen Carlos: What? Like some guardian angel? Because let me tell you right now, you're doing a terrible fucking job.
Carlos: Did Dad do this to you?
Teen: You mean my face? Nah, this was merely what he added after he found out about the fight I got into.
Carlos thought back to high school. He remembered fighting someone that was harassing him regarding Greta. It was an ex of hers, who was also a bully.
Carlos: Lucio.
Teen Carlos: You'd think after defending her, she'd say "Thank you Carlos for defending me" but what do I get, huh?! She tells me I shouldn't have defended her from a jerk she dated?!?!
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Carlos: Carlos..
Teenage Carlos: And what happens when I get home? Carla comes to me saying she's hungry. What happened to all the food?? Oh yeah, that FUCKING PIG ATE EVERYTHING WE HAD WITH HIS FRIENDS WHILE THEY WERE GAMBLING WITH THE REMAINING FUNDS WE HAD LEFT!!! WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I FUCKING CONFRONT HIM ABOUT IT, HUH?! WHAT HAPPENS? I GET PUNCHES TO THE FACE AND INSULTS HURLED AT ME, ALL OF THEM BEING HOW I'M RESPONSIBLE FOR MAMA'S DEATH!! I DON'T EVEN GET TO CRY! WHY, you ask?! BECAUSE CARLA IS CRYING AND WORRIED SICK ABOUT MY WELL BEING! A SIX YEAR OLD WHO'S SUPPOSED TO BE ENJOYING HER CHILDHOOD, WATCHING HER FRIENDS ENJOY THE NICEST THINGS WHILE HER FATHER IS BEING A PIECE OF SHIT AND HER BROTHER IS TRYING HIS BEST TO GIVE HER A CHANCE AT A NORMAL LIFE. I DON'T KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE BUT YOU ARE BUT I KNOW THAT YOU'LL NEVER KNOW WHAT LIFE IS LIKE IN MY SHOES!! So if you're my guardian angel... WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT MY SISTER?!
Carlos could feel his eyes welling up.
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Carlos: You locked yourself in the bathroom that night...
Teen Carlos: What?
Carlos: I remember... I went into the bathroom.. and wanted to end it.. I heard Carla whimpering behind the door... I couldn't bring myself to...
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He looked at his teenage self, reaching his hand out to hold his.
Carlos : You don't need to have your guard up around me, chico.. I really am you. And I really can assure things will be okay.
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Carlos stood up, holding his younger self's hand, and pulled him in, causing him to sob hysterically.
Teen Carlos: Estoy tan cansado (I'm so tired..)
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Carlos: Lo sé, muchacho… lo sé…
poses by @rebouks and @utopya-cc
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stars-in-our-skies · 2 years
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thoughts of a boyfriend who visits me or even lives with me, cuddling and watching movies together, sharing domestic life and cooking dinner with them, introducing and showing them off to my family -- not out of a desire for any sort of approval, but out of pride for loving and knowing them -- taking them to all of the places i love, enjoying each other's company even when we aren't doing anything, sharing a bed... maybe i am a hopeless romantic
#nblm post#mlm pining#idk mlm nblm love pining yearning ETC ETC!!!!#ok but anyway#thoughts and prayers that i meet a cute boy this weekend at the convention#and that he lives within driving distance so he can visit me during the summer#and maybe we have a cheesy teenage romance that neither of us have ever had the opportunity to experience before#and we hang out at skate parks while i learn to rollerskate#and maybe he skates or maybe he just watches me and writes poetry#or maybe we have a picnic in the shade together#complete with our switches so we can play AC or whatever's on the switch these days idk#and at night we share my full-size bed#and i worry that i'll never be able to let someone into my bed but somehow it just feels complete with him there#and he protests to the plushies but i tell him that The Plushies Are STAYING#but maybe now that he's here i don't need most of them to hold me at night#and he smiles a little bit knowing that i don't lie alone in agony anymore#and he holds me and runs his fingers through my hair and kisses my head#and i for once feel like i can let my guard down around someone#and he's here and i can protect him and he can protect me#i finally feel like someone understands my soul#irregardless of any personal issues we might have#we are two souls who found each other in the sea of fire and flame#and there isn't a tomorrow or a yesterday to worry about#only the right now. only this love. only this one summer night.#GOD can you tell i'm starved for affection#sooo anyone going to an!me oh!o or what#indieposting#yearnposting
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127rkives · 11 months
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uhhhh idk if anyone has discussed this before but... miguel likes to eat pussy from the back!!!
like idk, every once in a while, his brain goes brrrr and something short circuits. idk chalk it up to stress but it's more like some feral, animalistic urge. he can’t really explain it. it’s almost as if someone flips a switch, his mind goes blank except for the thought of needing to be with you, under you, in you. he has to stop whatever he’s doing and go find you.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
and as soon as he makes it home to find you relaxed on the couch, he's flipping you over, contorting you face down ass up, and he’s nuzzling into your clothed pussy like a dog in fucking heat. when he’s finally spent just enough time shrouded in the scent of you, he's yanking your shorts off. he’s been at this for approximately 2 minutes but there's already a wet patch in the center of your panties. that sight makes his pupils dilate before going in for the kill. his claws come out to rip your panties to shreds right before he straight up nose dives into your pussy, and granted you can feel him, the action still catches you off guard enough for you to emit a loud gasp. it’s just too much too fast. “mig- ohhh!~”
“mmm... mmmf” miguel gets so much satisfaction from tasting you that he releases moans of his own. they would be bouncing around the room and intermingling with yours except right now he can't bring himself to pry his tongue from the slick walls of your cunt. 
“oh my gosh- miguel!”
hearing you raise your voice in alarm while saying his name is enough to make miguel pause for a second. you take the moment of reprieve to look over your shoulder— huffing and puffing— only to be stunned by miguel’s animalistic look. his curls are messily hanging near his eyes which are dark, yet spacey as if he’s on another planet. his lips are parted just enough to show a peek of his fangs as he breathes heavily through his mouth after suffocating himself with your pussy, and a gleaming mixture of his spit and your slick is smothered over half of his face and all the way down to his collarbone.
“m- miggy could you just give me a few seconds?” you ask. miguel tilts his head to the side and scoffs. a curt “no” is all you get before miguel locks his arms around your thighs to drag you back to his watering mouth. you don’t have claws like miguel but if you did the couch cushions would definitely be in shreds from the way you’re gripping them. 
the wet slurps of miguel’s tongue lapping at your cunt are soon paired with two of his thick fingers easily slipping in thanks to your arousal. he scissors them for a moment before adding a third. the speed he uses to pump them in and out and the feeling of his slightly calloused fingers against your gummy walls leaves you floating in the clouds. you’re brought crashing back down, however, when a deep groan from miguel sends sparks up your spine. soon enough you feel pressure building at the bottom of your stomach, only it doesn’t feel like it usually does. in a fit of panic you try to drag yourself out of miguel’s grip.
“ohhh my go- miggy!” it’s all you can do to let out little slurred calls of his name, but it doesn’t matter. miguel’s not stopping until he’s satisfied. your escape attempts are useless, but the wiggling is enough to piss him off.
“querida. don’t move so much. be good.” but you can’t be still. the tingly feeling in your tummy is growing and all you can do let out breathy moans as you thrash around in ecstacy.
“ahh- i can- can’t help it!”
all of your moving loosened miguel’s grip too much for his liking. in less than a second, he's yanking you back towards his mouth and hoisting your hips just high enough to wrap his lips around your cute little clit. 
one hard suck is all it takes before you’re squealing at the top of your lungs. a scream of “miguel!~” is the only thing leaving your lips while your vision goes white and your breathing stops for a second. miguel is unrelenting behind you, switching to messily swiping his thumb across your clit and shoving his tongue back into your pulsating cunt in an attempt to catch every last drop squirting in to his mouth. 
even when your arms give out beneath you and you faceplant into the couch miguel is still lapping at your outer lips like he’s been saved after being stranded in the desert for a year.
and like that, it’s like the switch in his brain flips again. he smooths his hands up and down your trembling thighs and scatters kisses in a path up your back to the nape of your neck. “you okay, cariño?” a weak “mhm” is all you can muster up as you turn your head to flash miguel a floaty smirk. he smiles and chuckles, recognizing the foggy look in your eyes. covered in a sheen of sweat and high off the feeling of him is just one of the times miguel thinks you look the most beautiful.
after ghosting his hands across your skin and giving you a few minutes to calm down, miguel goes to gently move you to his lap. he buries his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling all of you. with the little strength you have, you wiggle around in his lap attempting to get comfortable but something is in the way- 
“ohh~” miguel’s breath is hot on your neck as he groans into it. his fangs graze your skin, his hands grasp onto your hips for dear life and oh...
someone flipped the damn switch again...
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horrorartsworld · 4 months
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cozy as a kitten
alastor/f!reader
warnings: there are none straight up fluff with a little bit of mild teasing c:
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You’ve had a long and painstakingly hard day at the hotel.
Every time you thought you could catch a break and sit down someone or something was needing you to do just about everything.
Charlie and Vaggie needed your help for the days activity.
Angel needed your opinion on his new porn shoot.
Sir pentious blew a hole in the side of the hotel with a new invention that you had to confiscate.
Husk well he’s Husk…
Niffty got stuck in a toilet.
At this point you needed just somewhere to slip away for a while and it seemed you knew just the place.
As you ascended the stairs of his broadcasting tower..
Alastor was on the air, so you quietly watched him from the sidelines while he worked. Smiling softly to yourself as you could tell this was truly something the radio demon enjoyed doing (besides causing torment to those who wronged him) and saw how much dedication he put into it.
He finally notices you as he wraps up his last couple words and then signed off turning to you in his chair with that signature grin.
“Hi my dear! Are you feeling alright?~” Alastor taking in your wearisome expression.
“Yeah Al i’m fine…just been a long day and need to get off my feet.” You give him a soft smile as you then rub your eyes tiredly.
He looks around the room seeing as there were no other seats in the room besides his own.
Alastor then puts aside his mic letting it lean against his desk, dusting of his thighs as he pats his hand on his lap.
“Come here” His voice surprisingly soft and inviting which caught you off guard.
“Alastor you don’t have to-“
“I insist~” He cuts you off before you could even protest patting his thigh more demandingly now making you blush.
You walk your way over to him settling yourself on his lap though you sat stiff as a board making him chuckle.
“You can relax now sweetheart, i don’t bite..much~”
Your body went rigged as he said this, shoving your face in his chest to hide your now red face.
“HAHA can’t take the heat..” He teasingly whispered in your ear as the static in his voice was practically humming.
Then an uneasy feeling passes through you as you then hear his tentacles admit from the floor coming up to wrap around you, making your head poke up for a moment as they then stopped once wrapped around you almost like a blanket.
Feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside from the comfort it was bringing to you.
Alastor then runs his hand gently along your hair stroking it as you rested your head on his chest once more feeling your eyes getting more droopy.
“A-alastor~” Your voice tiresome as you attempt to fight the sleep over taking you.
“Shhhhh darling, just rest, you deserve it~” He shushes you softly and could swear you felt a small kiss being placed on your forehead before the slumber completely overtaken you.
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷
I JUST WANNA SAY THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE ON MY FIRST LIL FIC “hell’s little maid”!! i honestly was so iffy on it and felt that my writing was crap to be proven completely wrong 😭 which has now just made me want to write tons more so TY! TY! TY! ᰔᩚ
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gauloiseblue · 3 months
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You always joked about how you'd find out what's beneath his mask someday. Literally and figuratively.
He'd scoff at your attempts, or suggestions to lift up his sniper mask. Some of them caught him off guard, to the point he almost did it if not for his logical mind. But some of them were downright ridiculous, that he couldn't help but snort.
Maybe you already accepted it from the start, that he would never give in, but it had become a harmless jest at this point, so you might as well keep it going.
Until he gives you permission.
The thing is, it doesn't make you happy—it scares you to death instead. He once bit off someone's finger when they poked it in the place they shouldn't have touched. So what's behind the mask couldn't be worth the pain.
At first, you thought of it as a warning. Yet he wasn't showing any signs of threat. He even pulled you closer, so you'd get a better view of him.
His mask stays on, but he lets you touch his face. Your hands hover an inch away from his veiled visage, before you test the water with a touch.
He doesn't flinch away, or charge at you like a venomous snake. He stays still, letting your hands cup his cheeks.
"Didn't you say you wanna feel my face?" He said as he brought you closer, causing a shiver down on your spine.
"I did," Your lips trembled slightly, "I'm doing it."
"You're not doing it right." He tugged your paralyzed hands onto his chest.
You're confused when he firmly grips both of your hands, before slowly sliding them under the hem of his hood.
"Inside, maus." He commanded you, "Tell me what you feel."
And so, you complied.
You reach into his mask, and touch his neck tentatively. For a brief moment, his muscles tense under your fingertips, before they come down relaxed.
"Oh." You murmured as you pressed your palm onto his nape, "You can certainly survive a fighter jet ride."
He doesn't give you any response, so you take it as a cue to continue.
Your hands creep up higher, until your fingers reach the soft bones of his ears. They seem small in your grasp, smaller than they should, for a man of his height. A quiet smile spreads in your lips, as you imagine the tiny shells that frame both sides of his face.
"I'm surprised you have clear skin." You commented when you caressed his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin, "I thought you'd have a problem with it since you always wore a mask."
"Not always." He replied, nudging you to roam further, "I took it off whenever I'm alone."
"Did you take care of it?"
"No."
"How unfair." You chuckled, "I want to have your skin."
He keeps his eyes on you, and you feel the need to clear your throat, before you trace the lines on his face.
"You have a big nose." You mused as you ran your finger down from the bridge of his nose, "It's crooked."
He hums, while his eyes follow your uncertain gaze.
"Why you stopped?" He called you out, and you jumped upon hearing them, "There's one place you haven't touched."
You bit your lips, trembling, as you lowered your hand, until you felt the soft lumps on your fingertips.
They form a thin line, before they split open, inviting your finger inside. Your breathing becomes labored, as he takes a hold on your hand, guiding your thumb into his mouth.
He doesn't break eye contact the whole time, and you're too paralyzed to look away. You feel the sharpness of his teeth as his lips are closing around your digit. You have anticipated the guillotine falling on the head of your thumb, yet what comes after is a soft brush of his tongue.
It was rough, and drenched with his saliva, that it formed a string at the time your thumb left his mouth.
"König—" You gasped when he dragged his lips down to your palm, before stopping on your wrist. Pressing his tongue on your pulse point, where the skin barrier is so thin, that it feels as if he's tasting your flesh.
"Scared, maus?" He muttered, his teeth scraped against your skin, "Are you scared of me?"
You stare at him, as your instinct screams at you to nod. But you shake your head, despite the tremble in your hands.
"Then you'll do as I say." He wraps his arm around your waist, leaving no room for you to run, "Take off my mask."
Your eyes widened, not believing what you just heard from his mouth. Alas, his glare is enough to confirm the truth.
He guides your hands to his mask, pushing it up in a manner that's close to unveiling a white cover. And once the mask is lifted, you have no time to admire him as he slams his lips against yours.
Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, as he pushes his tongue between your lips. You can't do anything but cling to him, as he presses your body down with his, until your back is flush against the cushion.
When you open your eyes, what greets you is a pair of eclipses. Gone was the cruel Colonel, as he's replaced by a voracious brute.
The moment he opens his mouth, you know you'll be devoured by him.
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seiwas · 9 months
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₊˚⊹。 see me through the morning glow | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.0k summary: you and gojo have a slow morning.  contains: f!reader in mind, suggestive if you squint, food descriptions. a/n: unedited, i honestly dk what this is i just really needed to get this out of my system! this is how i cope with 236.
re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!
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You slip out of bed faced with the promise of sunlight. 
The curtains in your bedroom radiate a glow that bounces off the man lying next to you; it’s soft, near-white, almost ethereal, the color of his skin, hair, and bones. His back is exposed, arm reaching out over the (now) empty space beside him—the crinkles and folds where you once were. 
You’ve always thought your bedroom had good lighting, and now you can confirm why: in the shadows, deepening the line that runs down his spine; in the highlights, guiding your eyes to the pockets of muscle behind his shoulders. 
You look away, trying your best not to stare; the only reason he’s undressed is because of a cold sweat, from the nightmares—and the very need for skin-to-skin, to ground him in your touch. 
On mornings like this, you let Gojo sleep in. 
(Because you’re lucky if he can fall back asleep again). 
It’s slow today—no work, no missions that need you or him. It’s your favorite kind of day, and Gojo’s too (once he wakes up and smells the waffles you’ve prepared, double topped with whipped cream and maple syrup—his special, of course). 
A steady stream of warmth flows through the window to your kitchen countertop, the marble glimmering as light hits. The material was his choice; you don’t care much for glamor but Gojo likes pretty things—you especially, he likes to say. 
The batter is quick to prepare, a recipe you’ve done many times before, so you ladle it into the waffle maker before letting it set on its own. Then, you grab a pan to heat up, spooning in last night’s leftover rice, some soy sauce, and mirin, adding salt to taste, as needed. A standard fried rice breakfast, with a yolk to mix in later. 
The sound of his footsteps are concealed by the sizzles of the pan in front of you, but you’re caught off guard by arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nestling itself into your shoulder as he nuzzles you. 
He’s still shirtless, you notice, so you inch backwards in case of any oil spatter. 
“Good sleep?” you mumble, certain that he heard you. 
He hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “Not anymore when you left.” 
This man—a giant baby, puffed cheeks with long limbs hunched over you. 
Your big baby. 
Despite his whines, he’s telling the truth, you know, and you feel warm because of it, affection seeping in the cracks between his arms and the kitchen stove. 
You blow on a spoonful of rice before lifting it up to his lips. Gojo’s breakfasts are always sweet, but every time you cook, he looks forward to this: waiting right behind you to be fed over your shoulder.
His review will always be the same, of course, everything you touch turns out good. 
He reaches for the waffle maker with one hand while the other keeps you close, and you plate his little breakfast for him, whipped cream with little hearts drawn in maple syrup. 
You grab a bowl for your rice and sit by the counter, Gojo sitting thigh-to-thigh beside you despite the abundance of space around you. 
You realize then, that Gojo tends to hover. 
Not necessarily in a bad way, just that, he does it all the time—always wanting to be near.  
And for someone so perceiving, practically all-seeing, he doesn’t really have to for him to know what you’re up to, but with every opportunity he has, he never misses a moment to be close to you.
When you wash the dishes by the sink, he stays beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, even when the sink is wide enough to accommodate him a few inches farther. 
Even the walk to the bathroom has him tailing you, following your footsteps as he traces the footprints of slow mornings with you. 
Your bathroom counter has two sinks, but of course, today, he chooses to stay by yours. 
“Skincare?” you raise a tub of face mask. 
He doesn’t need it, but you love pampering him, so he nods, whatever you want. 
You struggle for a bit (he’s just too tall), so he picks you up by the waist and rests you on the bathroom counter, against the mirror.
He stays in the space between your legs, hands flat against your thighs. His thumb kneads your skin gently, and any other time, this position would end very differently, but there’s a look he’s giving you—all words without speaking. 
And—
“Quit staring,” you mumble, turning shy. You’re about to rub the product onto his cheeks, under his eyes. 
“What, I can’t look at you?” he moves closer, keeping his eyes locked on you as he rubs circles on your thighs. 
“No, you can, but,” you swallow, “you’re looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” his brows furrow. 
“Like that.” you sigh, gesturing to his face. 
“Like I love you?” 
And it is like that. Like he loves you. That’s why he says it so casually. 
Because he does. 
You stay quiet, stunned, before you clear your throat and finish up the final area on his face. 
“Yeah.” you mumble, reaching over to wash your hands on the sink. 
Gojo waits for you to finish before he takes a small towel to dry your hands with it. 
“As if you don’t know.” he scoffs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. 
He’s right—it’s been said before, but there’s something else in his eyes right now, shiny and devoted, as if this is all he could ever want. As if you, on this slow morning, in this too-big bathroom is all he could ever need. 
But he doesn’t say anything. At least, not what he really means. 
“Not my fault you’re so pretty today,” he adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
It should be funny, that he’s telling you all this with a mask slathered all over his face, but his compliments always speak to the depths of you, even when you don’t expect them to. 
His fingers mold against your cheek, to your ears, down to the back of your head, bringing you closer until he kisses you softly, a gentle peck. 
Bits of the face mask transfer to your nose and you giggle, wiping it off. 
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” you joke.
Gojo smiles, that look on his face, “Good for you then, you’re the only one I see.”
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re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!
comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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lace-coffin · 6 months
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Hi! Can I ask how the slashers would feel if they ever accidentally hurt their s/o? Gender and everything is up to you!
How slashers would react to Accidently hurting their S/O
Thank you so much for my first ever request ah! I hope you enjoy 💖
Requests are open!
Warning for blood/injury - mild sexual content/reference to sexual activity and power dynamics -unhealthy relationships (I think?)
Reader is gender neutral!
Bubba sawyer
Most likely happened via Bubba playing too hard and Accidently pushing you over or being a bit too heavy handed with you. If it’s a case of them mistaking you for a victim and catching you with their chainsaw before being able to stop then they’ll be even more in inconsolable : (
Stops and stares for a minute to process what’s happened before devolving into full blown panic.
She’ll drop whatever she’s doing to carry you back to the house, even if that means letting the victim escape and having Drayton yell at her.
Will hurriedly explain in rushed sign to either Choptop or Nubbins to go take care of the victim as he’s busy caring for you.
Checks you over frantically. Please explain you’re going to be ok and help them calm down.
Once he knows you’re not in any danger he’ll feel absolutely awful about it and whine apologies to you even if you tell him that it’s ok and it wasn’t their fault.
Please comfort them once you feel better and reassure them.
Will insist you come up with a verbal and nonverbal sign to give if they’re accidently messing around to hard.
Will make you agree to stay in the house out of the way when victims are around so you don’t Accidently get hurt again.
Thomas Hewitt
After another night of Hoyt berating him for things out of his control, Tommy storms off to the basement to cool off. You follow after him, intending to comfort and wanting to help. You place a hand on his shoulder without thinking, forgetting he doesn’t enjoy physical touch without warning, thinking it might help. Whipping around he grabs your wrist a little too hard, causing you to wince.
He snatches his hand back as soon as he realises what he’s done.
Tommy will bring you to Luda may to have her check you over and assess the damage.
Once he knows you’re safe he’ll confine himself to the basement for a few days, only coming out to eat but even then it’s tense.
He’s truly sorry and feels like all those people who called him a monster and an animal were right, he hurt the one he cares about most, after all.
After a few days apart, a lot of hushed words of affirmation and kisses/nose bumps he’ll feel comfortable being with you again.
You know to let him cool off by himself and come to you when he’s ready after a heated argument now.
Michale Myers
You jump out at Michael thinking it would be funny to catch the shape off guard for once and not the other way around. Unfortunately this backfires and he swings his knife at you, thinking it may be an intruder since you’ve never pulled something like this before, You manage to jolt out of the way but the knife still catches you in the shoulder. Thankfully, it’s only superficial and will heal, but it still looks like it needs medical attention.
Initially Michael looks at you unamused, granted it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling underneath the mask. He gives you a kind of “well If you weren’t being dumb this wouldn’t have happened” attitude. However this is a front for the actual panic he refuses to show on the surface.
Having a few cuts and scratches isn’t super uncommon when your with Michael considering his tastes involving knives in bed ; )
Usually hurting others comes naturally and without remorse to Michael, so it shakes him to his core that he’s actively worrying about your wellbeing instead of feeling the usual indifference.
It disturbs him that he actually cares about someone enough to feel remorse for his actions.
After unceremoniously pulling your shirt off and looking the wound over he forces you go to A&E, practically marching your ass out the door.
Since he’s basically an escaped criminal he can’t exactly casually walk in the hospital with you, however he will stalk you the entire time, lurking close by to make sure you arrive and leave safely.
Although he usually has his guard up he vows to try be a little less bristly with you from now on if it means he doesn’t have to see you hurt and feel that awful tug of regret/worry in his chest.
Jason voorhees
You went out looking for Jason one night after he hadn’t returned to the cabin by his usual time. You were worried he’d been overpowered by a group of trespassers or caught in a trap and didn’t have any way to communicate that to you. The woods were beautiful but so dense and vast, getting lost or injured in the thick of them may as well be a death sentence.
Whilst searching for your missing partner you get your leg snagged in a bear trap he had set out previously for the trespassers. You howl in pain as you hear the sickening snap of your ankle between the traps jaws.
Jason was trudging his way back to the cabin when he heard it. Knowing that wasn’t a rougue teen as he’d cleared them out already, alarm bells went off in his head. He stormed to scene as fast as he could.
He could have sworn his undead heart stopped for the second time as he saw you sitting there in agony, murky blood seeping into the forest floor.
He rushes to your side and looks frantically between the trap and your teary face, he knows he’s going to have to disengage the traps and for you it’s going to be..less than pleasent.
He signs for you to grip onto his arm for support. Since he’s already dead and regenerates fairly quickly he feels it’s the least he can do to let you grip his arm for dear life as he wrenches the trap from your shattered ankle. If you cause any damage to his arm (which is very unlikely) it will heal up in no time anyway.
Once he’s carried you back to the cabin he’ll be frantically following Pamela’s directions in his head for what to do and how to clean/ wrap it.
If the damage is extensive he’ll relent and let you go to the hospital, only if a trusted friend takes you though, he’ll be sitting by the window of your shared cabin every minute until you return back to him.
You’re no longer aloud to be out in the woods after dark alone if he’s set traps. You both carry whistles now so if he’s not home and you need to know he’s safe you can whistle to each other and feel more at ease.
Billy Lenz
Interacting with Billy when he’s having an episode is never a good idea. You thought it would be fine to just be in the room though, providing you stay out of his way. As you enter, Billy is in the midst of trashing his attic once again, the disgusting feelings bubbling in his chest too much to bear. You enter just as he’s angrily thrown an old glass christmas ornament at the floor that the sorority had kept in storage. It shatters and flecks of sparkling glass scatter along the floor. One piece catching you in the hand in a nasty glass splinter. You swear under your breath and rush off to take care of it.
Billy doesn’t even realise what’s happened until you return to him, him now having exhausted himself and you knowing it’s safe to try do some damage control. You bring him a sandwich and juice knowing he’ll need it after all the energy and tears he just used up.
Your hands touch as he’s accepting the plate from you with a muted “thank you” and he notices the bandage.
Billy essentially bristles up like an angry cat at the idea of someone hurting his piggy and demands to know who did it and what happened.
Once you tell him it was actually from the ornament he feels horrible. He doesn’t even remember it happening with the state he was in.
He snuggles into the crook of your neck and mumbles apologies into your skin.
Billy will place sloppy kisses over it as an apology until you forgive him. (Not exactly hygenic since it’s an open wound but i mean…you’re dating the attic rat)
Brahms Heelshire
When living with Brahms there isn’t usually much to injure yourself on considering the estate is fairly out of the way from the rest of the village. You most likely caught yourself on a pair of sheers. Brahms is being stubborn about you being out of the house and slings the sheers in your general direction from the door frame when you ask for them. You don’t even notice you sliced your hand when catching them until you see a patch of blood soaking through your gardening gloves about ten minutes later.
You come in to grab a tea towel to wrap your bleeding finger in, not really fazed as it’s only a small cut. Brahms was lurking from the window as you tended to the hedges, not wanting to be away from you but not yet brave enough to tempt leaving the house he’s been in all these years.
As soon as he sees it he’s panicking, it’s only a little cut and you’re not concerned in the slightest but to Brahms you may as well have just came in with an arm missing. He’s instantly flittering around you asking if you’re ok and if you need a hospital.
You stifle your laugh at his over the top concern, you find it rather sweet, it’s not his fault he’s a little bit sheltered.
After cleaning the cut and bandaging it, it’s totally fine. If anything Brahms needs more reassuring and coddling than you do to get him to settle.
He apologises a thousand times for his attitude because he knows If he hadn’t been stroppy about you leaving the house and passed the sheers nicely then you wouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. He promises to try be more composed when he starts getting antsy.
He may need some ✨punishment✨ in order to encourage his behaviour change and to feel forgiven.
He begrudgingly lets you back outside to garden after about a week.
Asa Emory
If you’re the pet of Asa then it’s likely that most of your injuries are purposefully given from him and are no mistake. You’re poked and prodded often considering your residency in the collection. Wounds from experiments and correctional punishments when you disobey or refuse to submit are not uncommon at all. So it doesn’t bother him since he inflicted them. This also assures he cleans them with clinical precision. If you were anyone else he would leave the wounds to fester, if you died from a complication then that was just inconvenient. Not you though, you’ve caught his attention and heart. He loves you in his own domineering way.
If the wound was created by him on accident then he would give himself a hard time, chastising himself for his carelessness.
For example, if he had more trouble with law enforcement than he thought and that led to you to spending way more time in the trunk than you usually do, causing you to develop a sore from sitting in one cramped position for too long.
Asa would realise you’re injured once you’re let out of the trunk, hissing in pain as you stretch. He makes you show him where you’re hurting so he can inspect over it.
Despite Asa’s stony face his stomach is actively sinking. He knows you’re hurt because of him and it wasn’t purposeful or measured like it would be during a punishment. He sees this as failure in his pet care and it takes a blow to his god complex. Gods don’t make mistakes, but here he is, hurting his dolly by being so out of it.
He’ll make sure to clean it for you and even stop putting you in the trunk for a while. This does however still mean you’ll be attached to him via leash or chain connected to the ring sitting on his belt. Just because you’re hurt and his favourite toy, doesn’t mean he will except anything less than your complete and total submission.
He’ll be more tender and soft handed with you than usual for a while after. Punishments will be withheld until you heal. Then it’s back to normal routine as expected.
Predator/yautja
You were wearing a new perfume you’d picked up at the market during the day, You were only supposed to be getting meats and maybe a new fur for the bed but once the alien at the stand had convinced you to sample it you fell in love with it.
Your mate picks up on an unknown scent entering the house, hackles raising and stalking towards it. As soon as they catch the heat signature they throw a wrist blade in warning.
Their eyes widen in horror, rushing to the door as they catch scent of your tangly blood dripping onto the hardwood floor of your shared home.
The new perfume masked your familiar scent from them, making them believe the house was in danger and being intruded on. If their face could loose colour it would, cringing as they see the wrist blade sticking through your palm, groceries discarded at the door.
They start talking at you in rapid clicks before they realise you can’t actually understand. After making sure to keep the object in your hand so you don’t bleed out and that you’re not going to pass out on them, they insist on carrying you their medic instead of going to an ooman one.
They argue that their medicine is far more advanced and will heal your wound much more efficiently then your “ primitive ooman medicine”
Thanks to yautja medicine being far more advanced, It will heal like nothing ever happened in around two weeks. The wound stitched shut and given some kind of injection.
Your mate purrs and clicks for you deep from their chest the entire time you’re having the blade removed to try calm you.
They beg for forgiveness despite it literally being an accident and will need some reassurance that they haven’t failed you as a mate. Once you’re all healed up they’ll bring back an impressive skull from a hunt as an apology even if you’ve already forgiven them.
Whilst it’s healing you’re probably going be kept in the nest of furs and pulled tightly against them whilst they purr and sooth you.
My requests are open if you’d like to send any prompts or ideas for me to write!
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…
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Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.
Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.
Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.
Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.
However, you were persistent.
You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”
And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.
Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.
Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.
Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.
Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.
Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.
“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.
Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.
Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.
He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.
Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.
Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.
He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.
Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.
Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.
Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.
However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”
When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.
Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.
“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”
Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”
His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.
One second passes. Then two. Then–
“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”
Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.
His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.
And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.
Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.
A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.
Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.
You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.
He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”
Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.
Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.
You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.
He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.
And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.
But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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coco-loco-nut · 2 months
Note
Hii!
Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.
And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.
Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!
Guard Dog
Pairing: Max x Reader
Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit
TW: verbal abuse
A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3
requests open masterlist
----------------
"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.
"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.
"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.
"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.
"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.
"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.
"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.
"I-"
"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.
"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.
"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.
The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.
"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.
"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.
"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.
"Love you, Maxie"
"Love you too, Schatje,"
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ihave-atummyache · 11 days
Text
versace on the floor
hwang hyunjin one shot/imagine
NSFW!! 18+++ MINORS DNI
summary: the most stunning couple at the award show… in matching versace, of course.
3.2k words (OFFICER I CAN EXPLAIN)
(this is the best foreplay i have ever written oh m y g o s h)
i couldn't decide who your best friend is dating in the group so just make it up yourself>_<
also u all already know that i think hyunjin is just the nastiest mfer ever so i, once again, completely indulged that
"I'm insanely lucky," you mumble out, staring straight ahead as your boyfriend walks with his band down the red carpet. Your best friend chuckles beside you before snapping in front of your face.
"Earth to y/nnnn, snap out of it. We get it, you're obsessed with your boyfriend," she playfully rolls her eyes but still pulls out her phone to record her own boyfriend, right up there with Hyunjin in his own designer brand.
"Now who is obsessed with their boyfriend?" you tease and she chuckles but you both turn your attention back to the boys when they start getting bombarded by questions.
You glance at your boyfriend and you can’t help but let your eyes trail down his body. He has on the prettiest Versace suit that you have ever seen. It's just an all black suit with some tiny gold detailing on it but you swear he has never looked more mouth watering. His long black hair is slicked back away from his face and the icing on the cake is the black polish adorning his nails and, of course, his rings.
When you let your eyes trail back up his body, they meet Hyunjin’s and he has the most smug grin on his face that you have ever seen. Of course he caught you checking him out but, in your defense, everyone is checking him out right now.
But he would describe you the exact same way. You're dressed in a black sculpted column Versace gown. The gown itself is pretty simple, but the jewelry adorning your skin is what really makes the outfit. Just like your boyfriend, you're head to toe in Versace, as per his request. Down to the hairpin in your hair.
You bite down on your red lip and Hyunjin's gaze drifts to your lips for a moment before he quickly turns his attention back to the interviewer.
You and your best friend aren't able to meet back up with the boys again until the afterparty. You're at the drink table, grabbing a glass of champagne before you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist and your boyfriend's scent fills your nose.
"I think we're the best dressed couple here tonight," you chuckle against the rim of the glass and you feel him chuckle in response before placing a gently kiss to the side of your neck.
"Mm. I agree. But did you have to wear that lipstick color?" He asks and you frown before turning around in his arms and locking eyes with him. His grip tightens around your lower back when your eyes meet.
"You don't like it?" You can hear the pout in your own voice but Hyunjin immediately shakes his head.
"No, baby. I love it. Maybe a little too much," he leans into your ear, making sure nobody around you can hear you, "I've been hard since I saw you while walking the red carpet. I can't stop imagining those lips around my cock," he whispers into your ear and you choke on a sip of champagne, coughing slightly.
He chuckles and tucks a strand of hair that had fallen loose behind your ear. You clear your throat before taking another sip of champagne. Your boyfriend grabs the fluke from you and downs the rest of it, having no patience for you to babysit your drink.
"Oh no! Your drink is empty. Looks like we should leave," he smiles innocently at you before wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you towards the back door. (lol)
"Wait! Shouldn't we tell someone we're leaving?" you object, glancing over your shoulder but nobody is looking your direction.
"They'll figure it out," he replies before opening the backdoor and peaking out. There's nobody but a security guard there and Hyunjin asks if he can call a car for you two which he immediately does. The car arrives in less than five minutes and you're back at your hotel in less than fifteen.
You step into the elevator and press the button to your floor. Hyunjin's hand wraps around the back of your neck and before the doors can even close, his lips are on your's.
It feels like he's devouring you, like he's going to swallow you whole. But honestly, you love it. The kiss is wet and sloppy and you can't help letting your hands thread into the back of his hair, tugging at the strands.
The groan that leaves his mouth and enters yours is deliciously erotic and you pull him impossibly closer. The two of you are basically one entity but it still doesn't feel like you're close enough.
The elevator door dings and Hyunjin pulls away from you. Your lipstick is every where. It's all over his chin and lips, the tip of his nose, literally every where. You try not to imagine what you look like right now. As if he can read your thoughts, he reaches out and runs his thumb under your bottom lip, presumably fixing some misplaced makeup.
"You're so fucking beautiful," the words leave his lips and he drags you behind him as he makes a beeline for your hotel room, pulling out the keycard and pushing into the room.
He immediately turns you around and pushes you against the door. He reaches one hand up and locks the hotel deadbolt. As his hand trails back down the door he brushes the same hair from earlier out of your face again before reattaching your lips.
You let out a moan when his thigh finds its way between your legs. However, you can barely get any friction due to the dress being custom made and practically skin tight.
Much to your surprise, Hyunjin's hands make their way to the slit up the side of your thigh and before you can stop him, a loud rip echoes through the room.
"Hyunjin!" You exclaim and he leans in again to kiss you, his thigh pressing fully into your core this time.
"Jinnie, this is so expensive!" you object, pushing his shoulders away from you to glance down at the damage but he resists, pulling a moan from you when his grip tightens on your hips and his thigh pushes harder against your core.
"I can afford it," his voice is deep in your ear and he uses his grip on your hips to grind you against his thigh. A whimper leaves your mouth and you let your head fall back against the door.
Maybe it's from the half glass of champagne or maybe its from how good your boyfriend looked tonight but you feel more riled up than you ever have in your life.
"You're so fucking hot," you breathe out, your eyelids low and he tears his eyes away from where you're sat on his thigh to lock eyes with you.
One of his hands leaves your hips but you continue to grind against his thigh, wedged between your legs. He grabs your jaw gently before leaning forward and licking your parted lips. It's simultaneously the nastiest and hottest thing that he has ever done.
"You were made for me," he grunts out before pulling you off the door and turning you around, guiding you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fall backwards. He wastes no time in climbing over your body and biting at the exposed skin of your chest.
The strapless dress made it easy for him to pull the top down slightly, letting your breasts spill out and also be the next to fall victim to Hyunjin's mouth.
He wraps his lips around one hardened nipple, sucking and nipping, making your hips rut up into his pelvis. You make slight friction and he lets a deep noise escape his throat before he lets his hips relax and you are able to fully grind against him.
The more you grind, the harder and faster he bites and sucks at your chest, sure to leave marks that won't go away for days.
"You're gonna make me cum in my pants," he chuckles into your ear before sitting back on his haunches and staring down at you. He is even more covered in your red lipstick than he was in the elevator, it's all over his neck and jaw and face and you can't help but thinking how fuckable he looks right now.
"We already ruined the dress. Might as well ruin the pants too," you tease and he glances down at where he had ripped your gown. He places his hands on your thighs, and you jump slightly at the feeling of the cold rings on your flush skin. He slowly lets his perfectly manicured hands slip under what's left of the fabric until he reaches your hip bones.
"No panties?" he raises an eyebrow at you and you gulp, shaking your head as he begins to rub circles on your hips with his thumbs.
"Been wanting me to hike this pretty dress up and fuck you all day, haven't you?" he teases, letting his hand trail towards where you need him most. His finger tips finally make contact with your wet cunt and you can't help the sound that you let out, a mix between a whine and a whimper.
"I love how wet you get for me," his voice is gruff and you dont have time to reply before he plunges two fingers into you and immediately curls them to hit the spot that has you seeing stars and squirting on him every single time.
"J-Jinnie, you know I w-won't last long if you d-do that," you whine out but he doesn't listen, continuing to plunge his fingers in and out of you.
"I want you to cum until you can't think . You deserve it for looking so damn good tonight. There aren't enough words in any language to describe how gorgeous you are," His words have your head falling back against the mattress and your hands gripping the sheets.
He moves his other hand to the already ripped fabric and rips it further, exposing you to him fully before he leans down and places a kiss to your clit. You back arches off the bed at the contact.
His tongue begins to lap at the bundle of nerves as his fingers continue to brush against that soft spot inside of you.
"J-Jinnie, baby, I'm-I'm-"
"Shh, I know, angel. Cum for me. I want you to squirt on my face. Can you do that?" He interrupts you and you nod vigorously before he lets his mouth reattach to your clit and he speeds up his attack, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you can't hold it anymore.
"Right thereeee, I'm cumming. Fuck I'm cumming," you start to ramble and he hums in response, the vibration adds to the stimulation and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face, the bed, and yourself. He pulls his fingers out but continues to lap relentlessly at your clit, elongating your orgasm.
"Okay okay okay okay," your hands wrap into his slick hair, trying your best to pull him away from your poor pussy. Between his strong grip on your thighs and your weakened state from just having an oragsm, you're useless against him, especially when he gets pussy drunk like this.
"Jinnie, hurts," you whimper out and he replaces his mouth with his fingers, rubbing against your swollen and overstimulated clit.
"Shh, baby. I know, I know. Just want you to cum one more time with me down here, okay? That's all then I'll let you take a breather," his voice is soft and any other time, you would know better than to fall for it but you're already so out of it that you're getting caught right under his spell.
You let out a disgruntled noise, almost an uncomfortable sound when your next orgasm falls over you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and tears begin to fall from your eyes. Hyunjin is happy he switched techniques and is able to see you in all your glory right before his own eyes.
The tears falling down your cheeks and the way your face looks in that moment is more beautiful than any art piece he has ever laid eyes on.
He stops rubbing at your clit when your body starts to jerk under his touch. He pull his hand away and rubs soothingly at your hip, his other hand trailing up your body before it wraps around the back of your neck and he pulls your limp body up to sitting.
"Are you okay?" he leans in, his forehead against your's as his hand that isn't supporting you creeps around your back and unzips the dress. He had some how managed to rip it so severely that he didn't even have to unzip it all the way for the fabric to fall away from your body.
He pulls the ex-dress away from your body and tosses it on the floor. Your wobbly hands reach out and you begin to undo the buttons on the front of his Versace suit jacket. He patiently waits for you to finish before shrugging the jacket off and tossing it onto the floor with what used to be your dress. He makes quick work of his belt next, your eyes focused on his pretty fingers and blushing slightly at the realization that those same fingers were in you, moments ago.
This leaves him in just his tank top and suit pants. The pants squeeze his waist and legs perfectly and with the removal of the jacket, it accentuates his waist in the most delicious way.
You can't stop your hands from reaching out and trailing your fingertips down his toned shoulders and arms. You smile to yourself when the goosebumps rise on his skin, satisfied that your touch has that much of an effect on him.
"You drive me crazy. Take it off for me," he glances down to his own body and your hand dips into the waistband of his pants, pulling his tank top free and slowly pushing it over his head.
Once the fabric is over his head, you let your hands gently trail down his chest and abs, just like you had done with his arms. Once you reach his happy trail, you curl your fingers, letting your nails scrape against the skin, little red marks immediately showing up on his pale skin.
He sucks in a sharp breath before grabbing both your wrists in one of his hands, the other making its way into your hair. He wraps his hand into your hair, the hairpin falling from it's place, and pulls back, exposing your neck to him.
He leans down, his breath hot against your skin and you bite your lip in anticipation. Hyunjin's lips are amazing, no matter where they are on your body.
"You're perfect," he presses a kiss to your throat, making you swallow at his touch, "An angel on earth. You're fucking perfect," he continues, sinking his teeth into the spot right next to your throat before pressing a kiss over the same spot.
"Hyunjin. Just fuck me already," impatience is dripping from your voice and he chuckles, pulling his face away, his grip still in your hair. A small smile sits on his face as he studies your ruined makeup.
"What makes you think you're in charge here? Plus, didn't you say you need a breather? Are you that desperate for my cock? Poor thing," he feigns a pout at you and you feel a blush creep up your neck before he lets go of your hair and slides onto the bed next to you.
"Be patient, my sweet girl. We have all night," he smirks at you as you lock eyes with him again over your shoulder. Despite his words, he rearranges the pillows and lays back, propping his head up. His nimble fingers snap open his slacks button before sliding down the zipper and you already know what he wants without him having to say it. You reach over and grab the waistband of his pants, sliding them down his legs. Even his underwear are Versace and you can't help but chuckle lightly at this before sliding them down as well.
"Ride me, sweetheart," he pats his thighs before you swing one leg over, straddling his hips. Your cunt was only a few centimeters away from touching his cock, red and ready to be inside of you. He can feel the heat radiating from you and it's taking everything in his power to not just pull you down to take his full length.
However, he doesn't have to wait much longer because your patience is also wearing thin. You reach between the two of you, sliding his cock through the slick created from your previous orgasms. You finally line yourself up and slowly begin to sink down onto him. Despite your preparation, the stretch is still slightly painful, making you pause. Hyunjin's hands rub soothing circles on your thighs, trying his best to get you to relax.
"You can do it, love. Just a little more. Doing so good for me. Taking my cock like you're fucking made for me," his words fill your ears and encourage you. You lean forward, pressing your hands to his chest before letting out an exhale and fully sinking down onto him.
“There you go, just like that. Good girl, such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?” he asks before wrapping his hands under your ass. He pulls your body up before letting you sink back down onto his cock, a groan leaving both your mouths.
“Just for you. I’m such a good girl for you,” you ramble as you begin to bounce up and down on your boyfriend’s cock. Grunts continue to leave your’s and his mouth, mixed in with different nicknames as you speed up your pace.
Hyunjin’s hands make their way up your back, slightly pulling you forward before he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth again. The new angle makes his cock hit you completely different as well as rubs your clit against his pubic bone, creating the friction you need.
“Shit baby. So wet around me. Clenching already? Already gonna cum for me again?” His voice is muffled in your ears but you nod and that’s all the conformation he needs before he wraps his arms around your back again and pulls your chest against his.
He bends his knees and plants his feet on the bed before suddenly speeding up and fucking up into you like a madman. The change in speed has uncontrollable moans leaving your lips and you can’t even warn Hyunjin before you’re cumming again, squirting all over his stomach, hips, and thighs.
“There you go, atta girl. Good. Doing so good,” he’s mindlessly praising you, pressing kisses to your temple as you come down from the strongest orgasm of the night.
It only take about ten seconds before he starts to move inside of you again, making you jump and try to get out of his grip.
“J-Jinnie w-wait,” you whine and bury your face into the crook of his neck.
“What did I say, darling? I’m not done making you cum yet. Plus we aren’t done until I’ve painted this sweet cunt with my own cum,” he punctuates his sentence by thrusting up into you one time, making a squeal leave your lips. He chuckles before pressing another kiss to the side of your head.
“God, I love you,” he whispers into your hair and you reply by pressing a kiss to his shoulder, not yet in the right headspace to form real words.
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loveinhawkins · 1 year
Text
During the tail end of November 1984, the stars align in cruel and unusual ways: Eddie ends up sharing a compulsory Phys Ed. class with both Steve Harrington and Billy Hargrove.
Eddie groans when he find out, slams his forehead against his locker when no-one’s looking.
And the thing is, Steve isn’t the problem, not really. In fact, if he had been sharing the class with Steve alone, Eddie might’ve even considered it proof of some benevolent God existing. He’d probably have a few stressful occasions of trying not to make a complete fool out of himself—team sports are truly the worst, although he’s secretly not that bad of a soccer player—but at least he’d have a… nice view.
But no. Instead, the almighty schedulers of the Hawkins High timetable have decided to light the proverbial fuse.
Because sure, Steve’s known for being competitive, even borderline pissy if things don’t go his way on the basketball court. One would probably be subject to his baleful eyes for, like, five minutes at most before he got over it.
Hargrove, on the other hand, is another kettle of fish. In fact, he’s in a completely different fucking ocean.
He stalks through the school like a bloodthirsty gladiator, treats the gym like it’s his personal Coliseum.
Eddie honestly doesn’t know what the deal is, but he only has to witness Hargrove stare at Steve once from across the cafeteria to know that he loathes him. And from the quietly venomous look Steve gave in return, the feeling is definitely mutual.
So now he’s got to suffer through an entire period of playing baseball outside with the pair of them glaring daggers at each other. In a hilariously misguided attempt at easing the obvious tension, the teacher’s put Steve and Hargrove on the same team: Hargrove’s a center fielder and Steve’s the pitcher.
It’s neck and neck. Eddie is the last up to bat.
He steps forward with sweaty palms.
He’s got absolutely zero interest in being witness to the Hargrove v Harrington dick-measuring contest for any longer than he has to.
Please just let the ball be caught immediately, Eddie silently prays. Make my execution swift and painless.
“Hey, batter, batter,” Hargrove calls with his usual menacing sleaze.
Fucking juvenile.
Annoyingly, when Hargrove predictably yells, “Swing!”, it still makes Eddie jolt, swinging the bat on impulse.
But Steve’s not thrown the ball yet; he’s still tossing it up into the air, like he’s got all the time in the world.
Okay, I know you’re pissed, but quit the mind games, Harrington.
Steve catches Eddie’s eye, gaze lingering too long for it to be a coincidence. Then he drops the ball.
Billy chuckles. “Still clumsy, huh, King Steve?”
Steve rolls his eyes. He bends down to pick up the ball.
Even from this distance, the fading bruise on his cheekbone is easy to spot.
Eddie doesn’t like to think about it too often, especially when paired with the nasty gleam in Hargrove’s eyes. It makes his stomach sink.
Steve picks up the ball with one hand, but he stays low, one knee to the ground.
And then…
When he speaks, his lips barely move. “Hey, Munson. Left-handed, right?”
Bewildered, Eddie nods.
Steve stands up.
Eddie’s expecting to be caught off guard, for the ball to suddenly spin towards him.
Steve shrugs one shoulder back, looks Eddie right in the eye.
He mouths, Ready?
… What the fuck?
Eddie nods again.
Steve throws the ball, and it feels as if it’s being drawn, like an irresistible magnet, right to Eddie’s bat.
Eddie swings.
Crack.
The ball soars.
Eddie sees Hargrove’s jaw drop, hears him swear as he dives for the ball. He misses, sprints after it as it speeds through the grass—
Steve laughs. “Dude, what are you waiting for? Run!”
Eddie does.
He hits a home run before Hargrove can even attempt to throw the ball near him.
Breathless and grinning, Eddie lies down with his back on the ground, as his teammates cheer.
But someone else is by far the loudest.
Eddie sits up to see Steve yelling in triumph, hands cupped around his mouth.
Then he winks.
And Eddie thinks he’s never seen Steve Harrington look more delighted to lose.
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writingwithcolor · 5 months
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Author with cultural disconnect: How do I write without making it seem as if I hate my own heritage?
Anonymous asked:
I’m a white-passing Asian author, and I’ve never felt all that connected with my heritage. My current story centers on a fairy (re: fantasy-world POC) child and ends with her realizing that her parents are toxic af and her human best friend’s family takes her in. This is the perfect opportunity to sort through my own issues with my heritage and finally convince my monkey-brain that it’s okay to not know how to cook Vietnamese food or celebrate tet or speak Vietnamese… But I also realize that if I’m not careful, this could easily slip into “Hey, I hate my heritage and so should you!” So how can I stop that from happening?
Writing for yourself first, not an audience
I ask you a simple question: why put pressure on yourself to have any sort of non-offensive messaging for a story that hasn’t been drafted yet and is to convince your monkey brain it’s okay to exist as yourself?
That seems like the fastest way to stop the story from being actually cathartic and instead a performance art piece when you already feel hung up on performing as “properly” part of your culture.
As I said in Working Through Identity Issues and Other Pitfalls of Representation, not all stories you write need to be for public consumption. Especially stories you’re using for your own self-processing and therapy, because you’re trying to get a cathartic moment that is rewriting your own story.
At what point does the public need to be involved in that?
I do understand the compulsion to want to post—I have definitely posted some Questionable™ material in my drive to get validation for feeling the way I do, wanting people to witness me and say “same.” It’s a powerful urge. Sometimes it’s worked, but most of the time it’s just made me feel horrifically exposed.
But you really do not have to post in public to get any sort of validation. Set up a groupchat with friends if you want the cheerleading and witnessing—people who will know your story and give you good-faith interpretations and won’t accuse you of anything. Honestly I’d suggest setting up this groupchat anyway; as someone who just got one again after quite a few years without it, my productivity has skyrocketed from being around supportive people.
Let the monkey brain have its monkey brain moment and shut off the concept the story is for the public. Shut off the concept of performing for an unknown audience. It’s for you. Be authentic, no matter how bad it would look to outsiders. They’re not reading it. Part of getting catharsis, sometimes, is being the worst version of yourself, somewhere nobody else can see it.
Deciding to publish the work
If, after you do write it, you find that you actually do want to polish it up and put it somewhere… edit it. Rewrite it entirely if that’s what it takes. Take the story through the same drafting process every story needs to go through, ripping out the unfortunate implications as you go.
Editing can be its own form of healing, as you try to figure out what this character would need to not be hateful. As you realize, once this longform journal entry is out of your head, what was bothering you now that you can see it pinned down on a page. But you absolutely do not need to write with the intention of editing in that healing. When I’ve tried, it’s fallen flat.
The healing will come from being yourself, no public involved, and writing about your feelings in their rawest form. Anything else is extra.
There’s no point in trying to put guard rails on the drafting process, not for a deeply personal piece. And by the time that drafting process is done, you’ll likely have specific scenarios and contexts that you can ask about, and you might even have ideas on how to fix it yourself once the story has a shape to it.
This is 100% a situation where there’s no real sense in idea workshopping something in the plotting stage. You’re doing something for you. Decide if it’s for public consumption later (while acknowledging “no” is a perfectly valid answer), and only figure out how to make the story not overtly harmful if you decide to put it out into the public.
~ Leigh
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talaok · 1 year
Text
Drooling
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Pairing: Joel Miller x reader
Summary: You find a lake and convince Ellie and Joel to take a swim, according to Ellie, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to confess his feelings for you.
warnings: just fluff
"Hey it's warm!" you shouted, waving at them as your fingers grazed the small lake's water.
"no fucking way!" Ellie shouted running towards you as Joel stayed behind.
"oh my god it's true" she looked up at you, eyes wide with excitement "Joel come here!" she shouted too now, waving at Joel, who reluctantly, started down towards you.
"so what do we do?" Ellie asked, ecstatic
"We go in" you immediately suggested
"wait" Joel interrupted "we don't know if it's safe"
You glared at him "c'mon Joel how long has it been since you showered?"
Ellie chuckled "yeah dude, seriously" she pinched her nose, joking.
"very funny" he sighed " it's not safe" he looked at you
"Well then how about I go in..." you said, taking off your backpack and jacket "and tell you if there's anything wrong..." you continued, taking off your shoes "and if there isn't, you can just join me?" you asked, "how's that sound?"
"no y/n-" Joel tried to talk
"it sounds very good to me, how 'bout you Elllie?"
"sounds great" 
"perfect then" you grinned, not giving Joel time to protest before turning towards the lake and taking off your shirt, only your white tank top left beneath as you eagerly entered the water.
Joel's heart forgot for a moment how to work,
Wow
God, it felt good.
You hadn't taken a bath in so long that you had forgotten how good it actually felt, especially in warm water, something unimaginable in the QZ.
"fuck" Joel breathed out at the sight, and Ellie just glanced at him, smirking amusedly.
"I think you can come in now, nothing's happened to me!" you shouted, smiling as you let your body rest in the water 
Ellie looked at Joel a moment for approval, and once he unenthusiastically nodded, Ellie was in the lake with you in no time, splashing around and laughing mindlessly at the precious feeling.
"this is so great!" she smiled
"I know" you nodded "I've missed this," you confessed, trailing off as your eyes caught Joel's figure, standing still on the edge of the lake, but looking the other way.
"Joel!" you called for him, and when he didn't turn you got closer, ending up right below him "Joel!" you called again, splashing some water onto him.
He turned now 
"what are you doing? get in"
"Someone had to keep guard"
"oh please no one's here" you rolled your eyes "get inside right now Joel"
"I-" he opened his mouth to say something but stopped midway.
"c'mon, just five minutes" you pouted, and once again, his heart took a toll. He could never say no to you, not when you were looking at him like that.
"fine" he sighed, and you smiled happily, as he warily got in.
"it feels good doesn't it?"
He glanced at you, sunkissed, happy, and as much as he fought it, he couldn't help but smile.
"yeah" he agreed "yeah it does"
"see" you smacked his shoulder playfully "you should listen to me more"
"I listen to you y/n" 
"oh you do?" you cocked an eyebrow
"yes, just not when it's about survival"
"What?" you gasped, "you think you're better at it than me?"
"well I do vaguely remember a time you almost shot me in the leg by mistake" he tilted his head, making you laugh, and god, did that sound sweet to his ears.
"That was one time" you complained
"and it was enough" he chuckled
"fine" you surrendered, moving to his side to peek at Ellie, who looked busy testing her apnea skills.
"Thanks for doing this" you rested your head on his shoulder, "I know you don't like to waste time"
Joel wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, just like every time you touched him.
You looked up at him once he didn't answer, and he had to force himself quickly out of his trance.
"It's fine," he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible "I like this"
"I'm glad" you smiled, nestling a bit more onto his broad chest, as you closed your eyes.
The five minutes eventually mutated into an hour, an hour Joel spent pretending not to be staring at you as you rested on him, the warm water drowning out his thoughts as he finally put his arms around you.
he didn't know what he had done to deserve this, but whatever it was, he was gonna agree to all your suggestions from now on.
You opened your eyes, and as you did, you pretended not to notice Joel looking away.
"how long has it been?" you asked, your voice a bit tired.
"an hour I think"
"oh" you breathed "we should go"
"why didn't you tell me?"
Fuck
I didn't want you to move away from me,
I want you this close forever.
"I didn't wanna disturb you"
you smiled "you're cute" 
He didn't know what to say
"uh-thanks?"
Your smile only widened and you called for Ellie, telling her it was time to go.
"We should dry up," you told him, and he nodded, following you as you got out of the water.
His eyes never left you.
As you were busy drying your hair with one of your shirts, he let his glare wander all over you, from the bottom lip you were caging between your teeth, to the cheeks the sun had reddened, and, as much as he tried to refrain, his eyes couldn't stop wandering to the now see-trough tank top stuck to your body, that was granting him a visual of your bra, and of what it couldn't cover.
You always looked beautiful, but now, now a bit too much for Joel's poor heart.
"If you don't close your mouth you're gonna drool"
what?
He looked to his right to see Ellie grinning smugly at him.
He just grunted, going back to dry himself.
"y'know, I gave you some alone time there before, but you wasted it" she shook her head, as if disappointed.
He frowned at her.
"you could have made your move, dude!" she raised her eyebrows "it was the perfect moment!"
He glanced at you to make sure you weren't listening, but still didn't answer, not wanting to give Ellie the satisfaction.
"Listen if you want my advice”
“I didn’t ask for your advide”
She scowled at him“well anyway, I think you should just tell her" she shrugged "I mean, it's not like she doesn't already know "she laughed softly "you're really not good at hiding it"
"shut up" he grumbled, putting on his jacket
"what? it's true Joel, you look like a fucking serial killer" she chuckled "always staring at her and shit" 
He wanted to fight back, but she was kind of right on that one, he had noticed it too.
"Fine" she sighed "maybe I should just tell her then "
“no-Ellie-" He abruptly turned to her
"so you are admitting it!" she smiled "you like her"
"no-" he let out a frustrated sigh "I'm not admitting anything, just don't say shit ok?"
Ellie nodded, still a smug smile on her lips "fine"
"but at one point, you're gonna have to"
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jellys-compendium · 1 month
Text
Steam
A Nanami Kento x F!Reader Oneshot
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Rating: Explicit (18+ Only, Minors DNI)
Pairing: Nanami Kento x F!Reader Summary: You and Nanami decompress after a stressful day with some intimate private time in the bath. Cw: smut, passionate/vanilla sex, bathtub sex, groping, p in v sex, some l-bombs Word Count: 1.6K A/n: It's insane that I am so thirsty for this man and this is my first Nanami smut. Here's to many more!
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The hot steam billows around the both of you as you and your partner sink into the warm water of the bathtub. The sensation is a relief to your weary body and mind after a long and arduous day, and you cannot help but melt into the embrace of the man now lounging behind you in the tub. 
Nanami Kento’s gentle chuckle tickles along your collarbone as you lay your head on his shoulder. His broad chest supports your smaller frame with ease, his hefty arms relaxing along the rim. In that moment, you are reminded of those marble statues of gods, both paradoxically soft yet sturdy. 
“You look like a kitten in a sunbeam.”
You smile. Well, that stands to reason, considering you feel just as content as one. In Nanami’s arms you know you are safe, cherished, and loved. There are very few times where you feel you can let your guard down like this, where you can completely surrender your fragile trust to someone without worry. It’s liberating and emotionally cathartic and it’s all because of him. Nanami Kento is the love of your life, and every second with him is a second you treasure.
Reciprocating your smile, Nanami presses a tender kiss to your forehead. His large hands slip down from their resting place and below the water’s surface. You inhale a soft little breath when you feel him cup the sides of your body, those powerful hands landing on your ample hips before gently massaging them. 
Nanami’s touches are often slow, his fingers always a gentle caress of silent reverence that you are irresistibly drawn to. You instinctively seek out more, moaning softly as Nanami’s hands glide up your sides tenderly before drifting towards your chest and gently grasping your breasts.
You gasp at his touch, arching and turning your mouth to meet his own. Nanami releases a deep, content sigh as he claims your lips, his hands becoming possessive as they firmly squeeze at your flesh.
“That’s it darling,” Nanami groans against your lips, pressing slow and passionate kisses to your mouth as he savors the sensation of your body responding to him so openly and sweetly. 
“Let yourself go.”
“Kento.”
The wanton whisper of his name from your lips stirs the blonde sorcerer’s desire further. Nanami kisses you with unrestrained hunger, tongue plunging into your mouth as his hands grope and play with your puckered nipples.
Feeling so deliciously at his mercy, you return Nanami’s kisses eagerly, whimpering lustfully against his lips as your hands clasp against his thick and hardened thighs that surround and cushion you from the hardness of the tub. Your greedy fingers dig into his flesh as you desperately strain closer, feverishly desiring not a single inch of space between you and him. 
With each passing second of being pampered by Nanami’s passionate ministrations, your body’s aching need for him grows and grows, until you are nothing but a quivering and begging mess—grinding your ass against his hardening cock as you beg for him to touch you in the place you need him most.
With a groan, Nanami releases you, and you make quick work of sitting up and turning yourself around to face him.
Buzzed and love drunk, the two of you exchange lingering glances before you surrender your body weight against him. Nanami sucks in a breath as you press all of your sensual curves against the wet heat of his sturdy frame. He cups your face and sensually guides your mouth to his once more.
As you luxuriate in Nanami’s kiss, your hand traces down his abdomen, gently brushing along the curls of his happy trail before finding his hardening cock. You wrap your fingers around him and a sweet little pulse of pleasure courses through your core at the sound of Nanami’s erotic sigh reverberating along the bathroom tiles. 
You gently bite his lip then swirl your tongue into Nanami’s mouth in tandem with your firm strokes of his shaft, delighting in the shuddering wave that overcomes him as he slowly becomes fully erect in your hand. It’s not long before he’s twitching in your grasp, thick and hot and so ready to be inside you.
“Make love to me.”
Nanami’s hazel eyes meet yours, the silent exchange that passes between the two of you a testament to the love and trust you both share. Without hesitation, Nanami pulls you fully onto his lap, angling your hips so that your sex presses flush against his.
“Are you ready, darling? Need me to prepare you first?”
You shake your head, knowing full well that despite his impressive size you are aroused enough to be able to take him in all at once. Proving your point, you angle your hips just enough to slip the tip of him inside your entrance. Then, cupping his own face just like he did yours, you kiss him as you slowly sink all the way down.
Nanami’s moan is a sweet and deep rumble, his hands coming up to steady your hips and help you along as you slowly start to grind on him. With each blissful movement, your combined moans evaporate in the steam as the water in the tub starts to ripple and shift.
“So tight,” Nanami pants against flushed skin. “Pushing yourself like always.”
You jolt as Nanami’s firm fingers land on your clit. A rare little grin passes his features as he gently grasps the bud between his thumb and forefinger.
“Can’t have you straining yourself, love. Not when you’re supposed to be relaxing after a long day.”
“But I want to make you feel good.” You pant, raising your hips so that you can start to thrust down on him. Nanami is so big inside you, making you feel so good and so full as he takes up all the space you have to spare.
“You’ve had a long day too.”
Your sorcerer presses another soft kiss to your lips.
“I know and thank you. But I would feel better knowing that you’re comfortable too.”
All movement stops, your body’s eager thrusting halted by Nanami’s powerful hold. Even when he is being gentle, you can feel the incredible strength that Nanami possesses. 
“Kento?”
Nanami hums as his hands wrap around to cup your ass.
“Hold on.”
You do, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and your legs around his waist as Nanami gets up from the bath.
While seeming mundane, it truly is a remarkable feat to be able to get out of the bath with you like this without him slipping. But much like a boulder, Nanami has always been sturdy in both mind and body. And despite the fact that he may be stiff and a little awkward sometimes, he is the one person you can always rely on. The only other soul on this earth that you can trust.
And god, do you love him beyond all other things. In the deepest part of you, you know that you’d scorch the earth for Nanami Kento.
Holding you securely in his arms, Nanami sits on the side of the tub, somehow managing to keep his cock inside your tight warmth as he adjusts you on his lap. The sensation of the hot bath water trickling down your bodies coupled with the steamy yet chilled air outside of the warm water starts to affect you.
You shiver and snuggle closer to Nanami’s brazen warmth. He wraps his arms around you, littering kisses across the apples of your cheeks as he holds you flush against him.
“Stay close to me,” Nanami murmurs softly. “I’ll keep you warm.”
He always has. 
So graciously warm despite the stoic demeanour he displays in the public eye. In the private sanctity of your shared home, Nanami has always shown you nothing but kindness and warmth. He’s patient and he listens to you, no matter how frivolous your words may seem. He takes care of you and expresses his gratitude when you take care of him in kind.
You can’t imagine ever going a day without Nanami’s soft laughter, his rare little smiles, or his whispered words of adoration. 
You kiss him, but this kiss is not one of lust or passion.
“I love you.”
Shutting his eyes at your words, Nanami starts to slowly grind up into you, holding you close and helping to keep you steady as you start to bounce on his lap. The wet sounds of your joining fill and echo through the bathroom.
“I love you too,” Nanami rasps, hazel eyes opening to capture yours in a heated exchange. Neither of you break eye contact as the desperation in your grinding against the other intensifies. The burning pleasure ransacking your body reaches its breaking point, and you whimper, pressing your lips to his.
“I love you, Kento. So much, I—" 
You groan, arching up into him as Nanami’s pounding thrusts from below steal your breath. The muscles beneath your quivering body tense, and his breath escapes him in choked, passionate gasps. He’s so close, and you know exactly how to make him reach his peak.
Forcing your weight down on him, you take Nanami’s length as deep as you can. Nanami grunts, teeth scraping along your jaw as you squeeze down on the fat cock that has bottomed out inside you.
“K-kento I–I love you. A-always.” Your voice trembles from the euphoria of his touch, his scent, his heat, his love. 
With one more thrust, you and Nanami simultaneously reach your peaks. Tongues entwining and hands grasping, you both desperately try to get more of the other in spite of being as close as two human beings could ever possibly be. You hold onto one another for dear life, then as your orgasms so sweetly subside, so does the weariness from the day. 
It disappears into the air, fading like steam.
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dividers by @/saradika
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hitomisuzuya · 2 months
Note
YAY UR OPENNN AKSKSKWKWKWKEJW🌸 I MISSED U SM!! here's some flowers for u: 💐🌹🌸🏵🌸🌹🌹🌼
can i request for smut... uhm.. LIKE FRUSTRATED HUSBAND SCARA- AND AND READER JUST CAME HOME AT THE SAME TIME, and scara didn't know that reader went out SO IT FRUSTRATED HIM MORE- AND- AND HE BENDS U OVER THE BALCONY OMDMWJEEHHWHWHEHSH- and an ending where scara and reader fix their argument- if that's okay with u
currently playing genshin rn, farming for father arlecchino🎀
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Rough sex. Creampie. Slight Yandere Scaramouche.
Thank you for the flowers 🥺 Happy farming and good luck with your pulls. I'm skipping her sadly, but Scara's cons call❤️
If it wasn't one thing, it was another. If it wasn't someone messing up, someone was reporting in late. Scaramouche swore he could've squeezed a stress ball to mush in his hands from frustration. And to top it all off, he had to be away from you.
And he fucking hated that.
Thinking about how your lips lingered against his when he pulled away from his departing kiss this morning led to him thinking how much he wished he could be impaling you on his cock instead of dealing with this shit.
Scaramouche instantly knew you weren't home the moment he walked in the door. Which only frustrated him more. He'd told you to stay home like a good girl. And it didn't help that he was incredibly set in his ways. If he couldn't go with you himself then he liked to send an escort, or guard of sorts (as incompetent as his squad was).
You came through the door as he walked out onto the balcony to look around. "Scara, you are home," You said, smiling at him as you set a few bags down on the counter. "I missed you," You trotted up to him, and started to tilt your head up to kiss him.
He put a finger on your lips to stop you. "You went out?" He asked, glancing at the bags on the counter. The discontent was evident in his eyes. "You didn't tell me."
"Yeah, I just needed a few groceries. And we needed cat food," You narrowed your eyes stubbornly before you said what led to you being bent over the balcony once his hands finished furiously pawing your clothes off while he devoured your mouth in a harsh kiss: "I'm perfectly capable of going down the street on my own."
That wasn't the point. He knew you were strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you.
Scaramouche's arm was wrapped around you, holding you against him as his fingers danced over your throbbing clit. You mewled feeling him pinch and roll your nipple, grinding down needily against his fingers.
"You should've told me," He growled, delivering another pinch to your nipple that sent a sharp jolt right to your swollen clit. Your breath hitched in your throat as his hand suddenly came down across your ass, "If I couldn't have gone with you, I would've sent a guard."
"Scara, I-I--" The pads of his fingers rubbed firmer circles on your clit as you cried out, making your words die in your throat as your pussy started to clench around nothing. He continued to assault your clit, soaking his fingers in your juices, watching the way he you grinded against them.
Your head was fuzzy when Scaramouche took his hand off your clit to take out his cock. You jumped feeling the head smack wet against your clit. "Tell me who you belong to," He hissed, swallowing back a groan as he rubbed the head of his aching cock on your clit, "Say it," He smacked your ass again, soaking up your mewl of pleasure.
Grabbing a hand full of your hair, he pulled your head back. "Who do you belong to?!" He reiterated, smearing his precum on your clit before pushing his cock inside of you.
His cock pulsed as it stretched you apart, your pussy swallowing it as he bottomed out. He let out a shaky moan, pulling out half way so he could bury his cock deeper inside of you. His hips angrily pounded into yours, each thrust made your moans rose in octave as his cock kissed into your sweet spot.
"Yours! I'm yours, Scaramouche!" You cried out, your legs shaking as you pushed back against him, struggling to keep up with his pace. Your whole body trembled nearly limp with bliss as he pounded his cock inside of you.
Your words sounded so sweet in Scaramouche's ears. He kept an arm tightly braced around you, holding you against him. He put a hand on your neck, holding your head and sinking his teeth into your neck. He pulled a fold of skin into his mouth, sucking and grinding his teeth as he moaned muffled into your neck.
"Fuck, you are so tight, kitten," His groaned, his mouth sucking wetly on your neck. He prodded his tongue against the inflamed skin. He was fucking you possessively, getting lost in the pleasure of your walls squeezing around his cock while you moaned and whimpered for him.
You let out a broken sob of pleasure, your body shaking as your orgasm hit you. The only thing you could focus on was him and how good his cock felt dragging along your sensitive walls.
Scaramouche continued to bully his cock inside of you, intent on fucking you dumber through your orgasm. You felt every pulse of his cock as it ribboned cum inside of you, his body shuddering with pleasure as his thrusts turned sloppy.
His cheek nuzzled against your neck as he pulled out of you. "Want me to run you a bath?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Mhm," You murmured tiredly. "And feed the cats to," He chuckled as he turned you around, supporting you as you leaned against him.
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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months
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HELLO HELLO I HAVE ANOTHER ONE BUT ITS A 2 IN 1????? ALASTOR AND READER REACTING AND HELPING ONE ANOTHER DURING A PANIC ATTACK??????? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
I GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA-
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Panic attacks
Description: ☝️⬆️
SO-
It's really REALLY difficult to get Alastor to honestly open up to you about ANYTHING, even as his S/O
He will keep everything to himself, not out of any maliciousness but because he's not used to letting his guard down
Hides most of his fears behind his smile and quick wit
But you don't land The Radio Demon himself by not knowing him and his inner turmoil by not seeing the signs
You can see the cracks in his persona before even he can, knowing when he's about to break down
You try to talk to him about it beforehand, but he always brushes you off, telling you that he's fine
He tells himself that he's fine that everything is under control
It's always a little thing that sets him off, the last straw that broke the camel's back
Doesn't even realize that he's losing it until there's tiny tear pricks in the corners of his eyes and he's gripping his head so tight that he's hurt his scalp
Just repeats to himself that everything is fine, everything is okay, he's got everything under control
Breaks your heart when you see his painfully tight smile and watery eyes, shaking like a leaf
"Alastor..? Oh honey..."
Flinches when you place a gentle hand on his back, surprised that you snuck up on him
Tries to lie to you, bottle his emotions back up and may even try to seduce/fluster you depending on how frazzled he is
But you see through it, you always see through him
"Hey no...it's okay to be upset..."
Reluctantly leans on you, letting you hug his head to your chest until his hyperventilating stops and he's soothed by your heartbeat
Will put all of his strength into not letting himself cry, digging his claws into you as he grips you tight
His shaking finally stops once he relaxes into your hold, accepting your comfort
Don't make him explain himself, just help him ride it out until he can be himself again
When you two pull away he'll try to go on as if nothing had happened, springing up with renewed energy
Please don't comment on what happened, he's already embarrassed
"Alastor, come talk to me next time...okay..?"
"...I appreciate the offer, my dear."
That's the most you'll get out of him but he does start listening to you when you tell him to take care of himself
If anybody tries to pry into it then he'll just try to scare them off or redirect their attention
It's hard being so evil
You on the otherhand-
Whether you follow your own advice or not, everyone has a panic every once in a while, it's natural
It sneaks up on you and hits you like a tidal wave when it does happen, you hardly register your body crumpling to the floor
You feel so sick-even the air tastes bad
You can't breathe-where is the air???
Your body is white hot and ice cold all at the same time and your thoughts keep racing and-
You're in someone's lap suddenly, curled into their chest as sharp hand soothing the back of your neck
Your mind is so fuzzy from panic that you can't even recognize who it is, only instinctively leaning into their scent
"Y/N, whatever has you so upset, I promise we can face it together..."
Alastor-
He lets you throw your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, only holding you tighter in response
Pretends that this is just a normal conversation the entire time, talking endlessly about his day and what he did
Somehow it works and you find yourself calming down, becoming invested in his story
Before you know it, you're laughing at something Alastor said Niffty did and you've forgotten that you were ever even having a panic attack
Alastor doesn't let you go even when you move to get off his lap, unwilling to part with you after seeing you so vulnerable
"Let's just take a little time to be with each other, shall we?"
If you want to talk about it then he'll listen while keeping his lips pressed to your temple, giving you reassuring squeezes
If you don't want to talk about it then that's fine, he's not going to force you or even bring it up again
Either way, the moment you two part ways then he's back to his witty, snarky self and he expects you to be yourself too
If anybody asks, he'll just lie and say you two were playing twister
Charlie two years later: They weren't playing twister...
It's a horrible lie but he doesn't care, he dares them to question him and his precious S/O
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I HOPE THIS IS GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU!! I wanted it to be soft 😭
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